You Don't Notice Things Until You Do

You don't notice things until you do.

It's October now—probably the best month of the year, in my humble opinion. Texas Tech (at the moment) looks good at football again, which makes fall in Lubbock special.

With football on TV, I'm noticing commercials about breast cancer. Breast Cancer Awareness Month happens every year, but it never meant anything to us before. Now, breast cancer is the focus of all those slick pharmaceutical ads for some new medicine or treatment or potion.

Hot take: Big Pharma shouldn't be allowed to advertise new drugs. But they do.

Now, every commercial draped in pink with the infamous ribbon jumps out of the TV. Last night, one came on during the Tech game with friends, and I swear it felt like someone cranked the volume to max for that thirty-second ad.

Funny thing—I've never noticed those commercials before.

Two weeks ago, flying home from Dallas, it was about 2 p.m. on a Wednesday. At Love Field, I started noticing all the people in wheelchairs. Many looked sick, bald or balding, probably leaving town after a doctor appointment or procedure.

And here's the thing—I've never noticed that before either.

If I'm honest, I can't remember ever seeing anyone sick or in a wheelchair or bald from chemo while sitting in an airport.

Now, it's all I see.

Maybe it's because it was a 2 p.m. flight on a Wednesday.
Or maybe it's because our eyes are opening—to the struggle, the fight—not just in our own lives but in the lives of so many others.

We've asked the Lord to give us His eyes.
And He is.

Love, the Murrays