Oh, Facebook Timehop. How you slay me. I knew this photo would pop up soon.
But at the same time, I know it hasn’t been that long since we had a hospital sleepover. Since we talked in the middle of the night when the pain was too much and Kara couldn’t sleep. Since she asked me, how’s Corrie? Who’s checking on her since she moved? Because that was Kara. Always checking on everyone. Knowing that her cancer was painfully hard not just on her, but on us. If I had to pick a word to describe her, I would say selfless.
She was headed down to an MRI in the moments after this picture. The nurses giggled as we snapped a selfie, then redid it, because after an all-nighter, two selfies are in order. I stood and prayed over that hospital bed before they wheeled her down for the MRI that we prayed held good answers. Time. We wanted time. Really, we wanted healing. On this earth healing, just to clarify. You know, one of those moments when you tell God what to do. Because certainly we must know more than him. Than his infinitely good plan. Or maybe it’s just that we don’t understand.
It hasn’t been that long. But it has. A whole year since this moment.
In the last three months, I’ve done countless interviews about Just Show Up, about Kara. Some have been filled with laughter. Others, I’ve fought tears. So many people have reached out to tell their story of loss and suffering. I am constantly humbled that I was asked to walk this journey and write this book. There are so many hard stories in the world. But there are so many people clinging to their faith. So many declaring, just like Kara, that God is still good. That the nearness of God is their good. That suffering is not the absence of God’s goodness.
And there are so many living–just like Kara. Living out the forever promises of God. Dancing without pain. Knowing all of the secrets of Heaven. For this truth I know: Kara is alive. She is more alive than we can imagine. Where my mind falls short, God’s promises are still true.