We have a follow-up MRI in the next week, so I hesitate to post this. After all, the emotion will be different after the results. Regardless of the results, it’ll feel different – good or bad. Still, almost anyone who has faced cancer knows the feeling of this season.

It’s the “in-between” season. It’s a grind. It’s the time between the initial diagnosis and either cure, progression, or recurrence. You’re headed somewhere, but you don’t know where you’re going or when you’ll get there.

The day of diagnosis is dramatic & forever burned in our memory. It is a light switch – cancer off, now cancer on. Even thinking about Jason’s diagnosis day now makes my stomach tense and face flush. The vomit taste comes to the back of my throat almost instantly.

And… there will likely come a day in the future when the news at a doctor’s appointment is not good. Or, maybe we’ll learn that there’s a cure after all! It could be in a week, or it could be in years.

But, right now, we’re in the in-between.

Every new pain, every changed symptom, even every bad dream comes with a twinge of fear. Everything is questioned – “Is this good?” or “Is this bad?” “Is this the chemo working?” or “Is this the cancer growing?” “Can we plan for that event?” or “Should we wait just in case…?”

At the same time, we still wake up in the morning. We go to work, drink coffee, attend our kids’ activities, laugh, argue, fold laundry, and then crawl into bed.

The in-between looks pretty normal. A lot of the time it feels pretty normal.

But, it’s not. It takes only a concerned look on his face to instantly remind us that we’re not normal anymore.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.”

Psalm 56:3