Senior Photos Class of 2018

Senior photos Class of 2018

My daughters have been blessed with wonderful classmates!

E and E sharing Elaina's hair. :-) 

The Wonder Twins. 

Everyone wants to rub your head when you're bald. 

Not sure what's going on here, but I'm in. 

The Fun Bus She Is a Rollin'

So, we had an odd little party tonight. It was a head-shaving party. The boys wanted to do something as a show of support so Elise doesn't feel alone. Now, we know it's not the same for boys most of the time, but these three? They LOVE their hair. Love it. But they love Elise more than they love their hair and wanted a physical, tangible show of force. And I will be forever grateful. And humbled. 

Carter, Liam, and Walker--Before. 

The obligatory crazed girlfriend pose while the
fake 'boyfriend' has hair.  

And now they match! Cute couple. 

This is what happens when your "friends" help cut your hair. 

Everyone took a turn. 

Elise hacking at Walker's hair. 

Taking turns butchering each other's hair. 

Liam taking the plunge. 

Best anecdote--the boys were cutting hair with a small, goatee-sized trimmer. They decided halfway through the cut that they needed larger, better trimmers. So, they took their half-shaved heads and went shopping at Wal-Mart. Weird part? No one even checked up. 

This is what love looks like. 

And these are what superheros look like. 

Elaina proving that she has enough hair for everyone. 

Um..

And even though he didn't make it to our house, here's Landon (a basketball teammate of Carter's and 9th grader) shaving his head at his house. 

And here is Andrew (another basketball teammate of Carter's and 9th grader) shaving his head at his house. 

Tatumn, a 9th grader who lives on our block, had her own head-shaving party when Elise was diagnosed. :-) 

Joseph K. (who is also on the basketball team and in 8th grade) shaved his head at his house. 

Worth It.

Never forget, you were and are always worth it. 

There has been no greater joy in my life than to parent my children. It's not over by a long shot, but based on everything that's been happening in our lives, I just want it on record. I'd do it all over again exactly the same way. I'd endure every pain to mother my babies.

When we were going through a very difficult battle with infertility that spanned almost four years, a wise man and mentor said something that I've never forgotten.

His college-aged daughter drowned in an accident while on a mission trip. She was doing what the Lord called her to do, and she died in the process. This has to be one of the most difficult tests in life--where is your faith when God responds in an unexpected way?

Nothing can separate you from my love. Nothing.

So, we were in the funeral line for this remarkable young lady who had been in our youth group when Steve was youth pastor of this church. Steve and I, the same people who were still in active treatment to get pregnant, were waiting to hug the family.

Our infertility was like a third person in our marriage. We'd paid out countless amounts of money, endured horrifyingly intimate tests, blood work, drove to and fro having tests run, injected all manner of medication into my body, had sex on a schedule (which will kill a marriage faster than maybe anything), and were in the middle of that hard journey. I was discouraged and afraid and felt abandoned by God.

There is nothing I won't endure on your
behalf or do to help you be successful. 

In the funeral greeting line, this grieving man, his face covered in sores from where he had been crying night and day, took both of my hands into his and said, "Charlotte, you may need to consider that not having children is the path for your life. It's so hard having children. It's so hard. There is so much pain associated with children." And he sobbed.

I smiled at him, squeezing his hands in mine and replied, "But there's only one real question here--Knowing every single thing that you know right now--knowing that your daughter dies, would you go back and undo it? Would you skip having the joy of her life in yours to avoid the pain of this present loss?"

He gripped my hands almost painfully and said, "Never. I'd do it all again to have the time with my daughter."

You are the greatest joy of my life.

"Then you know why I must go forward. It's going to all be worth it."

 I thank God for you and that I get to be your Mother Bear. 

And I stand by that answer.

Knowing that they are going to cause me pain.

Knowing that they are going to fail and fall and reap and sow.

Knowing that they are going to be hurt and possibly die or abandon me.

Knowing that they are fallible and cruel and selfish and demanding and intolerable sometimes.

Knowing all of that, I'd do it exactly the same way all over again.

And I'll say this--it's all worth it.

Every second.

To love and be loved--that is the meaning of life.

Maybe a Little Too Real.

Seven days between the two photos. 

So, we knew this was coming. Some things look one way on paper and another in your bathroom mirror.  The top photo is one week ago. The bottom one was today. E knew that when the time came she was going to shave it. Today was that day. 

We had a three-day hospital stay that resulted in more and more hair dropping off of her head until she couldn't take it any more. I was at a basketball game watching her siblings play an hour away and by the time we got home, she had almost half of her hair in her hands. 

It's the first time she's appeared to be sick at the house. I've seen her in pain at the hospital and in treatment and after surgeries, but the house has been insulated to some degree. Watching her hair fall out in chunks was more than we could collectively bear. We cried in the bathroom. We cried in the kitchen. We cried while we processed. We cried when it was done. 

This was in her lap out of her hairbrush. 

Because there was enough hair on her hairbrush to make Mellie a wig.
And we are freaking Johnsons. It's what we do.  

And to make Lillian a hairpiece. Stylin'. 

Then, because we are a total gangster, it was time to shave it. 

We literally let her hack at it with sheers. There is something empowering
about hacking your own hair off. In the middle Elaina said, "Oh now you
look like Britney Spears in the middle of her life crisis. Bonus!"  

Got that Mr. Clean thing going on.

Sinead O'Connor wishes she were as beautiful as E. 

 And anyone who says, "It's only hair," is a freaking moron. The Bible calls it a woman's crowning glory. It's feminine and sexy and fabulous. It's personality defining and part of the who you are. If it weren't, no one would dye it or shave it or style it at all. It's important. 

Getting it done.

She can always stand super close to Elaina and share hair. 

Little sad. (Lotta sad.) 

Because the selfie queen is still the queen of the selfie with or without hair. 

Yup. 

   

 And now it's real. 

My daughter has cancer.

And God is still on the throne.

Psalm 46

1 God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.[c]

4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;
    God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
    he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

7 The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

8 Come and see what the Lord has done,
    the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease
    to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields[d] with fire.
10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.”

11 The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Wasted Time

Your Squad should remain your Squad no matter what. 

So, on the first day of treatment we had a little minor scare. E ran a fever. Fever, infection, and bacteria are the most harmful, dangerous things right now. Her nurse checked three times. The charge nurse came in. The floor doctor came in. They called her managing doctor at the clinic. Ordered cultures of her port and sent the serious antibiotics in here. Fever came down. All was well. The fever? 100.1. All of that for two little degrees.

What yesterday would have been no big whoop, today was a big, fat, hairy situation. It made every other really high fever she has run in the past look ridiculous. 

Sometimes life is like that. Things you thought were terrible become nothing in light of the next surprise. Maybe a friendship or a relationship that instantly changes because of circumstances. Or a life change like a divorce or death or loss of a job. 

Just recently...

• My husband resigned from full-time pastorate after 20 years in the pulpit. This was traumatic, but surprisingly, the main emotion my kids felt was relieved. (That ought to tell you everything you need to know about what pastoring does to your family.) 
• We moved into a new home. (After ten years in the previous one, that required two dumpsters.) 
• We left our church family. (People who have helped raise my kids.) 
• I lost people in that process that I thought were heart friends. (They weren't.) 
• I also gained people I didn't recognize yet were heart friends. (They were all along.)
• People were mean to my children and myself because of things out of our control.
• My children and their faith were damaged in the process by people who claimed Christ with their mouths but didn't act like it when the push came. (See the first bullet point.)
• Our bonus child got married. (This alone would have been enough stress for one year.) 
• Our twins started their senior year. (I can't even.)

Our lives had literally the biggest upheaval ever all over the course of three months. 

Resolving your interpersonal relationships is perhaps
the most important thing in a life well lived.

And at the end of the three months, one of the twins was diagnosed with cancer. 

I can assure you that all of those other things that happened--things I thought were devastating and overwhelming and scary--They weren't anything. Nothing. No big whoop. They were cake. Because this right here is a big, fat, hairy situation, and all other things pale in the light of my sick baby girl. 

You prioritize rather quickly when that happens.
Job? temporal.
Church? malleable. fallible.
Career? bah. change it.
People? damaged, sinful, corruptible. 

Your people will love you no matter what
if they are really your people. 

It's how I've been able to forgive some people who have wronged us who I don't particularly feel like forgiving. It's ridiculousness. I know the secret of what is important and what is chaff.  I know what is kingdom work and what is selfish gain. I know what matters. And this circumstance has emboldened me to tell it, because there isn't a better time and there might not be a better opportunity. 

What matters is this one thing--how you resolve your personal relationships, starting with Christ; second, with family and friends; third, with the world around you.

Fun Bus be rollin'. 

I encourage each person who reads this--get your personal life in order.
Spend time with people you love.
Make room in your life for friends.
Look outward more than inward.
Forgive even when you don't feel like it.
And above all, make each day count.
There isn't any time to waste on ridiculousness. Not any time at all.