“Not exactly the summer I had in mind.” Jenny Runkel


Jenny Runkel, my blond thirty something friend possesses a figure taut from tennis and sun kissed skin. She’s just bronze enough to show off her pearly whites with out the tanning bed look. It’s a very healthy I-have-been-on-the-tennis-court-wearing-sunscreen type of bronze combined with the potential to model for one of those dentists that specialize in whitened teeth.

Her blue eyes dance and laugh and disarm.

Jenny is conversant on a wide range of topics from the dramatic and important to the spicy and obscure. So in a given day we can chat about Shakespeare, Jesus, and Tabasco Sauce. Her mind sharpened by great literature, a smart--slightly smart aleck husband, and brilliant senior high students, generates the kind of humor that produces in me those deep down in the gut kind of laughs.

When I am with her, for a few minutes, I forget to take myself so seriously.

After an exhilarating and often exhausting year of teaching high school juniors and seniors, Jenny Runkel planned to enjoy her kids, her husband’s growing writing career, and some time to write a bit herself. She planned a trip to Houston, a vacation in the tropics, and plenty of tennis. Meanwhile, lymphoma has forced itself into her body, into her consciousness, and now challenges all of her plans.

Thankfully, Jenny is not just conversant about Jesus, she’s conversant with Jesus. Besides the fact that we have both lived in south Louisiana and both teach high school, we have the Jesus thing in common.

For now, since lymphoma has reared its hatefulness, I am admitting to having a few angry and sad conversations with Jesus about all this. After being thankful for Jenny’s friendship and registering my unhappiness at this turn of events, I am asking for few things. Immediate healing will do just fine. If He chooses the chemotherapy route to heal her, then I want Him to give her an overwhelming sense of his peace and joy in the process. I am asking Him to equip her with everything she needs to enjoy her kids, her husband's growing writing career, and write a bit herself.

As she requested, I am praying for Hal and Hannah and Brandon to feel the love and support of God and of the many others who love them so.

As she temporarily lets go of the blond, I am asking that she be able to keep up her tennis game and bit of bronze. I am asking Jesus to keep shining through her dancing blues eyes and her brilliant smile. And I am asking Jesus to provide to her, in increasing measure, pressed down and running over what she has given to me, the sense of being loved and respected, and an inability to take myself too seriously.