These people, I tell you. These people are my favorites. 

Last weekend, some of the leadership and staff at our church went away for a time of brainstorming and rest. To make the weekend even more restful, we had a few of our favorite musicians/friends from MN come down to lead worship. 

They may be amazing musicians, but these people are some of our closest friends from the great state of Minnesota. 

So of course we did a mini-photo shoot in our backyard... I mean, DUH! 

Thanks so much for joining us this weekend, Joe, Shannon, Rachel and Jason! We love you guys tons. :) 

As many of you know, my dad had surgery last week. He's battled with cancer for several years now, and last week my parents drove to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN to do surgery to remove a tumor in his abdomen. 

This was my dad's second surgery at Mayo. It was a little deja vu for all of us... I felt like I photographed this all before. :)

My in-laws were sweet enough to join us for a few hours in the morning while we waited for dad to be admitted. 

Once we found out when dad's surgery was going to be, Sunil and I made plans to be there. Our drive was a nightmare: the road conditions were awful, the blowing snow gave us visibility that was next to nothing, and the whole trip ended up being so long that we didn't even arrive until 5am. 

And I'd do it all again in a heart beat. 

Once admitted, the gown goes on, the tests are run, and the waiting game begins. 

Waiting for doctors. Waiting for the operating room. Waiting for everything to begin. 

Since dad has had surgery there before, we were able to connect with some doctors that have worked with (and on) dad in the past. We will be forever grateful for their skill. 

Another room to wait in. Another hour goes by. 

Waiting is the hardest part. 

Then someone walks in. "Sir, a nurse is coming up here to take you away." 

Dad makes a joke to make my mother laugh. But we're all holding back tears. 

Hugs.

We say goodbye and watch him walk off. Afraid. Anxious. Ready for it to be over. 

Then the nurse takes us to the room he'll be in after surgery. Sometimes God makes us laugh - it was the same exact room he was in almost 18 months ago. 

We wait. We pray. We watch movies. We cry a little bit. 

We hear the good news - he's done. We wait for his return. Everything moves in slow motion until he arrives... then it's all a blur.

Too intimate for photos. Some things are just too close to the heart to photograph. 

The following day we celebrate little victories: his first meal, his first time sitting up, his first walk. 

And we Skype with grandkids to cheer him up. 

A few hours later, it's time for us to leave. We need to go home. 

But we leave knowing he's safe. 

And we trust that God will bring healing.