I Really, Freakin' HATE Melanoma!

And the choir sang, "Amen!"

I know.

One of the things about being on Facebook and being something of the "Chaplain" to some of my melahomies is that I get close to many of them. More than people probably realize. Some message me once-in-a-while and others on a regular basis. I learn what's happening with their disease, their hopes and dreams and fears, their families. I receive their prayer requests and offer up the best I can in hopes and faith that God will take what I place before Him, that others agree with and like and add their own prayers to, and will bring about some type of blessing in the life of the requester-friend. I want miracles, dang it and I want them yesterday.

And miracles come in all shapes and sizes. So do answers and non-answers. Yes, no, not now, wait.

And I might not make sense right now, and that's OK. God knows what I trying to say even if I don't get it out well.

We come to be family on Facebook. Me and my melahomies. Every day of every week of every year 178 people die from melanoma...people around the world, not just in the USA. Some of them I knew thanks to Facebook. It's hard knowing so many die from this disease daily. It's really hard when it's someone you've come to love. Whose faith touched your heart. Who turned to you for hope, prayer, advice, comfort.

So, tonight I see a post on a dear friend's wall...a wall in my dining room on my laptop but that originates halfway around the world from me...that she's not expected to last another 24 hours...her husband wrote the post.

We just messaged Friday! I had no idea. NO clue. Did she? I'll never know. But I know this: she is 31 and beautiful and full of life and faith and love for her husband and her family and was full of hope even when it looked bleak...options we take for granted in the USA simply aren't available in her country. Dammit. They aren't available in a lot of countries. And I mixed the present tense with the past...she's still here...or is she? She's running her race through God's Gates of Praise. And it hurts.

So tonight I cry. I cry for her and her family who have to say good-bye way too soon.

I cry for all the people who think melanoma is a game and think a tan is worth the risk (don't read into that that she was a tanner...I don't know if she was or not...I DO know there are young people who don't get the seriousness of this disease and are courting disaster. Disaster is an awful partner).

I cry because I need to. This disease causes a lot of anguish and heart-rending pain. For all of us.

I cry because I can. Don't ever get so used to all the pain that you become hardened by it.

I cry because it hurts.

I don't cry alone.

Do I, God?

charis