Last night my throat felt scratchy. My first thought: I won't be able to see Elena for a while.

The new normal.

Yesterday I went back to work as though nothing had happened since I left Thursday. Thursday--the day I rushed out of work with a to do list that looked like this:

• Shop for groceries & gift
• Clean the house
• Make a relish tray
• Thread the elastic through the casings on the sister skirts
• Fix dinner for 6 adults and 4 kids

I was looking forward to that evening: dinner, followed by a bridal shower, followed by skirt fittings and then some good quality girl time when everyone left but my daughters--all my daughters together!

The phone call came while I was standing in the baking goods aisle. Eric on the phone, his voice sober. He wanted to put me on alert. The doctor thought Elena had leukemia. Briana wouldn't be coming to the bridal shower. They were probably headed to Primary Children's Hospital.

Again.

They were there two weeks before when Lily was sick and Elena was with me.

"Time for medicine, Elena."
"It's not green."
"No, it's not green."
"It's not blue."
"No, it's not blue."
"It's not purkle."
"No, it's not purple."
"It's pink!"

I wonder if chemotherapy comes in pink.

I returned to work yesterday, as though I was coming back from any other weekend.

"Hi, how are you doing?"
"Did you have a good weekend?"
"The weekend wasn't long enough, was it?"

No. Not long enough to grieve and try to put life back together again. I've never been good at small talk. I don't know how to answer the questions.

Playground duty gives me time to think. I'm grateful for sunglasses that provide privacy as I walk among the children.

Life goes on, but how can I? My heart aches for my angelic granddaughter and for my little boy in a big body, and for my daughter who I never carried, or nursed, or read to--but love.

It doesn't make sense. None of it does. Yet my mind returns to the song our choir sang Sunday.

"In this very room, there's quite enough love for all of us.
And in this very room, there's quite enough hope for all of us.
There's quite enough love, and quite enough power, to chase away any gloom.
For Jesus, Lord Jesus, was in this very room."

We were encouraged to think of the room where Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Instead, I thought of a hospital room where blessings were given. In that very room there was quite enough love, and quite enough power, for His Spirit was in that very room.

Faith will get us through.