In a funky room, with funky curtains

I am in a FUNK. A cloud of Funkiness has settled. There is a haze of Funk. I am looking at the world through Funk colored glasses.

Last week I found out that a friend has Lymphoma (of the Hodgkin variety, which is the good of the bad). The Funk is two part.

Funk Part 1
What a horrible thing to go through. I feel for him, and for his family. Although he'd felt sick-ish for about 5 months, I know for myself I would have chalked it up to allergies/colds/seasonal crud. He had a chest x-ray late last week, and the next thing you know it's a biopsy & lymphoma. He'll be working with doctors this week to find out the extent of it, and come up with a treatment plan involving radiation, chemo or both.

Funk Part 2
I confess, illnesses of this proportion are something I reserve in my head for other people's parents. Great uncles. Maybe a grandparent. NOT PEOPLE MY AGE. I have heard of a few others, but this is the first within my acquaintance circle. And it slaps me like a 2x4 with the sense that life is so very fragile. Not even in the sense that it could end at anytime, it can also just flip you upside down at any time. You can just be rolling along, set on cruise, and the next thing you know you're plopped down on a completely different road in another country where you don't even speak the language. Hence, the FUNK.

Yesterday one of the songs I got to sing with Tony (just days after a biopsy on his neck -- are you kidding me? I'm at home in bed if I'm him) was Not to Us. "Not to us, but to Your name, be the glory," based on Psalm 115. So ultimately, that is my prayer. And I think once it soaks in, the Funk will lift. Grace and Joy will remain. Because of God's Love and Faithfulness. Because that is what is true.