A Joyful Noise.

This past Sunday in church, the children's choir sang two songs. I always, always cry when kids sing, and Sunday was no exception. The songs weren't particularly sad or emotional (or in tune), but I always get overwhelmed with the earnestness and tenacity with which the children approach the performance. Sometimes it looks like their jaw is dislocated, like their mouths are just not big enough to contain the sound that's forcing its way out. The younger ones in particular are unselfconscious, making joyful (loud) noises, letting their song ring out with wild abandon. Most of them have yet to suffer public humiliation, and they stand and sing with unbridled confidence. It's wonderful.

Davis and his sister Grace are both in the choir, and though Grace, a 5th grader, was on the back row and was a bit more reserved, Davis stood on that middle row in the midst of all the other kids and sang his heart out, his little puffy cheeks filling up and then exhaling the most beautiful of sounds.

My heart tightened when I saw him. He was completely at ease, comfortable with his role of virtuoso, but I couldn't help but think about the card that he's been dealt, and the race that he now finds himself running. He's just trying to live the normal life of a 1st grader, singing, playing, laughing, but when your normal involves steroids, vincristine, and methotrexate, just to name a few, I daresay it can get tough.

The title of Sunday's sermon was "The problem is"...if you wait until you have enough money to have children, you'll never have children; if you demand perfect neighbors, you'll find yourself moving a lot; if you wait to tithe until it doesn't sting your bank account a little to do so, you'd never tithe. Ultimately, our minister claimed that we must take the first step, no matter how imperfect the situation.

As adults, we make choices every day, sometimes weighing our options carefully, sometimes acting on instinct, sometimes acting out of fear. In the case of Davis' fight against cancer, he's found himself in the middle of an imperfect situation, one that he will find his way out of with the help of his doctors, his mom, his family, his friends, and prayer.

He has no choice but to fight for his life, and he'll do so because he doesn't know any different, because he's working towards a new normal. He continues to run the race to beat this beast, and it's good to know he can sometimes make a joyful noise while he's doing it.