I've been remiss in updating this with the latest good news on the TL Hines health front: I had clear scans and blood work the beginning of July. So, no evidence of disease (which usually gets capped to No Evidence of Disease and called NED)--great news for me. I took a much-needed vacation with my family, and it was a wonderful, celebratory time.

And yet, smooth sailing physically doesn't always mean smooth sailing emotionally. In this journey, I've met many other wonderful people affected by cancer--lymphoma and other kinds--and it's hard not to agonize with them when they're in the midst of struggles. This past week, one person I met at a local support group passed away from ovarian cancer. Another author/colleague passed away from brain cancer. Two other friends I met online continue to struggle physically...one with a lymphoma relapse, and one with ongoing heart and other physical issues after treatment.

These are the times, I think, that test us so much...maybe even more so than when we are personally struggling with life-and-death issues. No, we don't have any control over a thing like cancer in our own lives; but in an odd way, we have even less control when the cancer is affecting a friend or loved one. You want so much to do something, say something, that will make it better. And yet, in spite of our medical advances, we're human after all. So much of life, and death, remains a great mystery to us. It seems unjust, unfair, unbearable.

And it is all that, really. That's part of the broken world we live in, I think. Evil exists. Not every story has a happy ending. That grates against the overcoming-all-odds, triumph-of-the-human-spirit dynamic that's so ingrained in our consciousness.

But if every story was filled only with happiness and joy, faith would be meaningless. Perseverance would be meaningless. More than that, they would cease to exist, because unending happiness (in this life) would be a mere fact of life we take for granted, in the same way we don't think much about the air we breathe. Without complete darkness, we can't understand what light is. Without suffering, we can't understand triumph.

That's what faith is about, for me. We all choose to believe what we believe. I choose to believe there is suffering and pain we can't understand right now. But one day, we will. One day, I believe, all this unimaginable evil will be put into context, because we will know unimaginable joy.

I choose to believe that, because the alternative--that all of this happens for no reason it all--is the most unimaginable thing of all.