Grace for the Journey

Learning the Hard Way

2011-11-23T21:56:00.001-05:00

There have been a few lessons I’ve had to learn the hard way over the years. Such as:

Don’t drop off your best baby doll to the neighbor boy who is pretending to play barber shop. (I carried Susie around by a tuft of remaining hair for the rest of her days.)
Always, check the rear view mirror, even when backing down your own driveway. (Because someone might be backing up your driveway at the same time.)
Buckle your seatbelt every single time you get in a car. (Because the one time you don’t, you might leave an imprint of your face on the windshield.)
Do not attempt to iron your skirt while you are wearing it. (Now I know that one sounds so completely obvious, but I was late for class. I had a book on my lap under the skirt, it just wasn’t large enough.)

And just within the past three months:

Always, always, ALWAYS use a stick to check a steel trap. (That’s actually a lesson I remembered a fraction of a second too late.)
Sometimes skunks and groundhogs share the same burrow. (Woo, boy! Not a pleasant discovery.)
If a surgeon tells you he’s going to take out some pieces of hardware from your face, make sure he counts them and shows them to you before you leave. (Or you might be surprised to see some appear in a dental x-ray the next time you need a filling.)
And sometimes, you just can’t prepare yourself for what’s to come. (At least not in this life. Thank goodness we can know how to make sure Heaven will be our eternal home—“These things have I written that ye may know that you have eternal life…” I John 5:13)

Understanding

2011-08-23T13:06:00.001-04:00

I know there are things that happen here on earth that, hard as we try, we just cannot understand. This morning, as I was lying in my bed, reflecting on the time spent with a friend yesterday, I was praying. Wrestling with this very topic. She is facing cancer yet again. This beautiful soul, desperate to reflect the love of Jesus, keeps running into this formidable enemy.

My mind and heart were grappling with understanding all over again. Why does God allow suffering in those individuals who live steadfastly for Him? And maybe a more accurate question would be ‘Why doesn’t He provide them with miraculous healing? A sign of His favor?”

Outside of faith, I cannot even begin to make sense of any of it. And yet, as I allow my faith to seep into my questioning, I am reminded that we have more grace than we deserve in simply being His children. I remember that God does allow things, but that He doesn’t necessarily cause them. We have sorrow and disease and death because we live in a world cursed by sin. And so, in the midst of these afflictions, God chooses to manifest his grace, but not necessarily healing. Humanly speaking, it seems unfair. But it helps perhaps to view it as being chosen to endure a hardship because He knows that person will bring Him glory in spite of the pain. I can only grasp at the fringes of how that works.

And as I lay there, praying and thinking, my radio came on to wake me with music. Songs of praise, songs of blessing. Then the announcer shared this quote:

When before the throne we stand in Him complete, all the riddles that puzzle us here will fall into place and we shall know in fulfillment what we now believe in faith—that all things work together for good in His eternal purpose. No longer will we cry “My God, why?” Instead, “alas” will become “Alleluia,” all questions marks will be straightened into exclamation points, sorrow will change to singing, and pain will be lost in praise. – --Vance Havner

I’ve got lots of question marks that need straightening out into exclamation points. I’m sure you do as well. So even as I pray for my friend-- for wisdom, for peace, for comfort, for relief—I choose to believe that even this will be used for God’s glory. And for today, I’m thankful for the promise that one day, we will understand.

A Promise Kept

2011-07-02T20:42:00.001-04:00

Last Monday, on what would have been our nineteenth wedding anniversary, I stood with our children looking down at the Grand Canyon. Keeping a promise that you and I had made them a couple of years before –that we would make our next family adventure a visit to the Grand Canyon. I missed you and wished you could have been here to laugh at the boys’ comments. If you could ask Ethan, he would tell you that “It’s just a really big ditch, Dad.”

I lingered at the edge longer than they wanted. It was warm, and they were ready for ice cream. I could have stayed all day and watched the sun set.

Already on this westward journey, I had navigated across seven states (if you count ours- which I did since we live in the northeastern quadrant of it.) I had driven to the top of Pike’s Peak and back down—all without overheating the engine or the brakes, thank you very much. While we were at the top, we decided to try the famous high-altitude doughnuts. Out of habit, I ordered five. I didn’t even realize I had done it until Megan asked me whom the extra one was for. None of us could bring ourselves to eat it.

I wish you could have been with us to see all the tumbleweeds in Utah and Arizona. The kids thought they were so amusing, rolling across the road ahead of us and getting all tangled up in the fence so that it looked as though someone had lined them up like wispy round hay bales. Sometimes one would roll under the car in front of us (when there was another car, that is) and explode into bits as it hit the undercarriage.

I wish you could have been there at the Lincoln Log Cabin in Illinois when just as Henry had finished teasing Megan for wigging out as a cicada buzzed by her, one landed on his shoulder and he ran around screaming his head off. We all laughed for what seemed like twenty minutes after that.

We saw so many beautiful places, and I think the kids will remember this adventure for many years to come. I know you would be proud of us, proud of me. And though you couldn’t be with us in person, you were there in our hearts. We sure do miss you.

The Song I’m Singing

2011-02-11T13:21:00.001-05:00

I’m cleaning today.

I know. It’s terribly exciting, isn’t it?

Anyway, I just haven’t had any idea what to write in this blog for awhile now. But today while I was cleaning, a song popped into my head. It’s called Because He Lives. I thought it was worth sharing.

The chorus goes like this:

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
My live is worth the living just because He lives!

One thing is clear, there is much uncertainty in this life. Our own family tragedy has been followed by watching several friends suffer disappointments. It is enough to make one to wonder if the journey is worth it.

Personally, I wonder sometimes how I’ll ever manage to bring up these three beautiful children on my own. But I am thankful for the gentle reassurance from the Holy Spirit that I am not alone. Sometimes it comes as a Scripture verse to my mind (Heb. 13:5b). Sometimes as encouraging words from a friend, and sometimes in the form of a song.

And so today I’m singing.

A New Year, A New Normal

2011-01-03T22:26:00.001-05:00

Jeff’s service was beautiful and uplifting. I think it was everything he wanted it to be, and I’m thankful for the conversations we had to plan it, as hard as that was at the time.

The kids are holding up marvelously and started back to school today. The guidance counselor at each school contacted me today to assure me that they are looking out for their well-being and will be available for whatever needs might arise. It is good to know. I want my kids to feel like they have a safe place to go if they start feeling overwhelmed during the day. I wish I could protect them from that, but I know that isn’t realistic. And probably not healthy, either.

While they were at school, my parents came over and helped me put away all the Christmas decorations. I usually feel wistful about putting Christmas away, but it felt good today. I need to take back my house. *chuckle* It’s a bit of a mess.

I have been accumulating paperwork, too. And that will be addressed tomorrow. Lots of forms to fill out, accounts to notify, health insurance applications to complete. I’ve put that off long enough. But I know I’ll feel better once that is all taken care of.

Then I can get back to just being a mom. Planning meals. Doing laundry. Packing lunches. Making the library run. Dusting.

~well,

Maybe I can put the dusting off a little longer.

With Hope

2010-12-22T20:37:00.001-05:00

Jeff entered into the arms of Jesus yesterday at 2:20 pm. We will miss him terribly, but rejoice in knowing he is whole and no longer in any pain. And we have the blessed hope that we will be reunited with him again one day in Heaven because he knew Jesus as his Savior.

Prayers Needed

2010-12-16T10:07:00.001-05:00

From Jeff’s Caringbridge site:

On Monday, Jeff was extremely agitated. He had been awake since 5 am on Sunday with no naps, very restless and having trouble finishing sentences. The meds we had on hand were not able to relax his state of mind at all, so the doctor called in Thorazine. He finally fell asleep after 8 pm on Monday. He's been unable to really communicate since then. He cannot swallow without choking and all the fluid his body was retaining is going to his lungs which makes his breathing sound awful.

The doctor came to see him yesterday and told us it won't be long now. We are giving his medications through two ports that are just under his skin. And he has a patch to help dry up some of the excess fluid in his lungs I know you probably have questions that I haven't thought to address here. I apologize for that. It's so hard to know how much information is too much or not enough.

We know he can still hear us, as his eyes flutter when we talk. He smiles when we say "I love you." So please feel free to continue writing messages to him, and I will read them.

We declared last night to be our "Christmas Eve." One of Jeff's family's traditions growing up was to open a gift on Christmas Eve. I am a purist and always thought we should wait until Christmas morning. (Partly because I'm one of those silly people who is still wrapping after the kids go to bed on Christmas Eve.) Last year, I finally gave in and we announced the beginning of the "One-gift-on-Christmas-Eve" tradition. When I told Jeff's doctor how much Henry was hoping Daddy would make it until Christmas, he said "Christmas is a season, not just a day." So when Henry asked again if Daddy would make it until Christmas, I decided we should just make last night our "Christmas Eve." And don't you know, they got two gifts out of it instead of one. :)

I know there's no good time to lose a loved one, but Christmas seems to be an especially hard time for this to be happening. Please pray for a swift and peaceful passing. And continue to pray for our family as we make our way through this unfamiliar territory.

Reinforcements

2010-10-24T11:03:00.001-04:00

It’s been a few weeks ago, now, that I felt like I just couldn’t handle this situation anymore. It was right about the time Jeff had been battling a cold for several days and then I caught it, too. I was so exhausted and sick. He was bed-bound. I began feeling angry and resentful. Like if I got the chance, I’d be really tempted to get in my car and drive for a very long time.

I reasoned with myself, that driving off would be a really pointless move. Even if I could selfishly get past my conscience, I wouldn’t get any further than pulling my first kid out of school before I’d have to scrap the plan. Reason for Early Dismissal – “We’re running away.” Yep, pretty sure that wouldn’t fly with the staff as a valid excuse. That gave me a good chuckle, and the temptation was over pretty quickly. But the fatigue and frustration were still very much there.

I’m not sure if Jeff’s mom sensed my desperation, or if the Holy Spirit just whispered to her “It’s time.” But the next weekend, she moved in to help take care of Jeff. She is an independent technology consultant which means she can do her job from anywhere there is quick access to an airport. Mom can’t be here all the time, of course: she does travel for work. But when she is here, she takes the night shift so that I can sleep.

Some friends and neighbors have also been helping out at night when his mom is out of town. And several have come during the day to sit with Jeff so that I can do errands, take kids to the doctor/dentist, etc. Jeff’s sister came for a weekend to help out, too.

I haven’t even mentioned the meals. Several ladies have been signing up to bring meals throughout the week. It has been such a relief to not have to worry about cooking dinner all the time. I feel like I’m doing pretty well if I can keep up with the laundry and taking care of Jeff and the kids, so dinner is a very welcome blessing.

And then there’s the yard work and maintenance projects. One couple has taken on the regular mowing. Other former patients and their families & friends have come to trim, weed, rake and cut down a tree. One friend is on groundhog duty. (I think we’ve gotten them all now.) The outside faucets are all winterized, the play set and fence are stained. When I write it all down, it overwhelms me the way people have offered to help.

So all that is to say that I’m grateful. God hasn’t chosen to intervene and heal as we had first hoped and prayed. But what He has done is that He’s made it very evident that He cares about the details. That He will not leave us. And just as the Bible promises, His strength is made perfect in weakness. It wasn’t God’s plan for me to do this care-giving alone. But He allowed me to start feeling pretty weak so that I’d be in the right frame of mind to accept help just when we needed it most.

He knows me so well.

Eagles’ Wings

2010-09-27T09:21:00.001-04:00

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. --Isaiah 40:31

Juvenile Bald Eagle at Nimisila Reservoir

I love that verse—such a comforting promise to cling to in hard times.

For His Glory

2010-09-16T23:05:00.001-04:00

I find myself needing to apologize yet again for allowing so much time to pass between posts. I finally figured out how to have Live Writer (the program I use for blogging) on more than one computer since I don’t spend much time in the office anymore.

I wanted to thank you all for your prayers, for your understanding, for your encouragement. Some posted comments here, and some sent e-mails, some phoned; but all of you were so sweet and gentle in reminding me of God’s goodness and giving me permission to be human. I love each of you for that.

My pace through the Bible has grown very slow. I have always read at night. It’s the only time the house is completely quiet, and I usually am relaxed and ready to learn. I admit there have been nights when I’ve fallen asleep before I finished a chapter. I do a fair amount of re-reading. But that’s not such a bad thing because sometimes reading a passage twice really helps me get it.

I’m in the book of John currently. In Chapter 9, Jesus heals a blind man. It’s a familiar story to me, and I must have fallen asleep somewhere around the part where the Pharisees put the man and his parents on trial to hear testimony about who healed him and how. So the next night I read it again. And this time, the part that jumped out at me was the first few verses.

And as [Jesus] passed by, he saw a man which was blind from [his] birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. (John 9:1-3)

Have you ever been facing something really hard and wondered “What did I do that God needed to punish me like this?” I know I have examined my heart each time Jeff’s leukemia showed up. And when I came to the conclusion that this cancer isn’t punishment for something I did or he did, I started to wonder if God is trying to get someone else’s attention by punishing us for their wayward lifestyle. (I realize it sounds crazy. I’m not implying it’s a rational line of thought, it just happens to be a common thought process among those who suffer and those watching someone suffer.)

Punishing you to teach someone else a lesson? That’s what terrorists do, and God is certainly no terrorist!

So then why the suffering?

Jesus answered his disciples’ question about this issue by telling them it wasn’t a punishment for either the blind man or his parents, but that there was a reason for it. God had allowed it so that His glory could be shown when Jesus healed him.

Could God restore Jeff’s sight and health?

Absolutely.

I do not anticipate a miracle like this one for him. But if I am interpreting the message of this passage correctly, I can trust that the work of God is being made manifest in Jeff. We may never fully grasp the ways God has used leukemia for His glory until we get to heaven and our understanding is perfect.

And when I think of it that way, my perspective can shift from questioning God’s plan to feeling humbled for having been entrusted with so great a task as to bring God glory in the face of suffering.

Grrrr!

2010-08-31T22:27:00.001-04:00

My mom enjoys telling a story of me losing my temper when I was very small. I had a tricycle that my parents allowed me to ride around in our apartment. There was a wall that partially divided the kitchen from the living room and hallway in such a way that I could ride in a big circle through the rooms.

As the story goes, the tricycle worked great in the kitchen. But when I got to the living room, I would get stuck because the carpet slowed me down. You see, I could just barely reach the pedals with my tippy toes. And when the going got rough on the carpeting, I needed my whole foot to push the pedal forward, but I couldn’t do that. So I would have to crookedly scoot forward on the seat stretching my foot down. Then I’d have to repeat that on the other side as soon as the first foot reached the bottom position.

One day, I apparently had had enough of this. I growled loudly at my tricycle and decided to chew on the handle grip to let that dumb thing know how mad I really was!

I’ve been feeling like I’m on the verge of a major temper tantrum for about a week. Well, that does not entirely describe it. It’s more like teetering back and forth from dread and sadness to frustration and anger. Today was a particularly bad day for Jeff.

--In a string of not-so-good days.

Cancer stinks. This whole situation just makes me mad. I feel like I’ve been at the point where I have accepted death as the outcome for so long now. I stopped praying for a miracle months ago and simply asked for God to do what is best—for all of us. And I meant it! But I am really struggling with how this is best for anyone. And I’m angry because I just don’t feel like it’s fair to feel guilty for wishing it was over when it seems like God is dragging it out.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest:

I still choose to believe that God is good all the time, that He really is working this out according the plan that best brings Him glory. I believe He has big things planned for my kids and me. Why else would He be testing them so early in life? I still believe He is a great and mighty God. I firmly believe that He cares and that He is big enough to handle my conflicting emotions. Big enough to handle the anger and the hurt.

But I am wondering, “Where’s a good tricycle handle when you need one?”

Peace, Be Still

2010-08-17T12:57:00.001-04:00

Are you familiar with the origin of these words? They are a quote from Scripture, the command Jesus gave to a raging storm in response to his terrified disciples. It is probably one of the best-loved stories of the miracles of Jesus.

The new disciples spent all their time now with Jesus; they’d seen some of his miracles, but their faith was still growing. They had not yet realized He was [is] God in the flesh. Jesus, even though he was exhausted, even though they had awakened him from much-needed rest, had compassion on them. The Bible says He rebuked the wind and the waves, saying “Peace, be still.”

At once , the wind stopped its fierce howling, and the sea was completely calm. Only then did he turn to ask how they could be so afraid, to comment that they had so little faith.

His sensitivity reminds me of when I was little and had an irrational fear of spiders. I guess it started one night when I awoke to get a drink of water. When I climbed back into my bed and pulled the quilt back up to my chin, there was a huge wolf spider resting on my chest looking at me. (Can you imagine the 5-year-old girl kind of screaming?)

My mother was always calm in these situations—I don’t know how she manages that, because I am prone to freaking out a little bit when my children are upset. But she never did.

Anyway, she came into my room and somehow figured out what was upsetting me. I don’t remember what she did to remove that particular spider, but from then on, I remember shoes being involved. She hugged me tight. She whispered, “Shhh, Baby.” over and over, while she stroked my hair. She never said I was foolish. And once I calmed down, she did take time to point out how small that spider was compared to me and to explain that I probably frightened him much more than he had frightened me.

I’ve outgrown that particular fear. Oh, I still do not like spiders in my house, and they are likely to meet an untimely death by vacuum cleaner if they decide to come in. But they don’t send me into hysterics like the mere sight of one used to do.

Back to the Bible story:

Jesus did not get angry with the disciples. He was sensitive to their fears, to their human emotions.

Jesus had spoken to the disciples as the embarked on that journey across Galilee, “Let us cross over to the other side.” He fully intended to arrive at the other side. And I believe they would have made it even if he did not calm the storm. Perhaps the storm would have dissipated as quickly as it blew in had they only waited a few more minutes. But in their fear, they had forgotten his words. “Carest thou not that we perish?” they cried.

We are going to have moments when we think everything is completely out of control, when we get totally overwhelmed by our circumstances and forget that God has a perfect plan. The storm seems so dark and powerful that it blots out the face of God. It’s so easy to forget that we can trust His heart.

Fear can be a robber of peace, an under miner of our faith. Yet even when our prayers sound more like accusations, still he cares for us. For the disciples, it served God’s purpose to eliminate the cause of their fear, demonstrating His power over nature. Because we now have Scripture to teach us the lesson that Jesus is God, such divine demonstration is no longer required. But he still cares about our circumstances and our fears. He may not choose to eradicate our source of fear. But if we allow him to, Jesus will calm our troubled hearts just like he calmed that storm.

Peace. Be still.

Tweaking Meds

2010-08-12T14:26:00.001-04:00

As predicted, the pace of last week with hospice was much more relaxed. One of the benefits is weekly massotherapy which targets Jeff’s shoulders and back to help relieve some of the pain.

The nurses also suggested tweaking the meds a little. The doctor increased the dose of the steroids, adding another pill mid-afternoon. Their hope was that the extra medication would help reduce inflammation thus reducing Jeff’s headaches. And by taking the second pill mid-afternoon instead of at bedtime, it would not interfere so much with his sleeping. He also resumed taking one of the long-acting pain pills before bed.

Those changes have helped a great deal in managing the pain, especially first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, the increased steroid seems to be causing some sleep interruptions. Perhaps there needs to be a bit more tweaking of the afternoon dose.

Though he continues to feel weak, Jeff is in good spirits and enjoyed going to lunch with a friend on Monday. And we all went out for ice cream on Tuesday after the boys got their back-to-school haircuts.

Thanks for all your encouraging messages. I appreciate you!

Hospice

2010-08-02T10:13:00.001-04:00

Jeff fell about three weeks ago as he was getting up from the couch. He landed with his full weight onto our coffee table.

As you know, Jeff is essentially blind in the right eye and has very little vision remaining in his left eye. He has been able to see shapes and shadows, but in the last couple of weeks even that has been growing dim. And the cancer in his brain is affecting his sense of balance as lesions in the spine are affecting the nerves in his toes. All those things combined make him very unsteady, and by the time he realized he was falling, he was leaning too far backward to correct.

He hit hard. But God was merciful, and Jeff didn’t break anything or cause any serious injury. He had quite a bruise across his back, and two weeks later when he still wasn’t recovering, I insisted we go to see his doctor.

While we were there, he requested a wheelchair. And when they had discussed how much difficulty he was having getting upstairs and just taking a shower, Dr. Morgan suggested it was time to give hospice a call.

I made the call for the wheelchair and it was delivered the next day. I called hospice and arranged for them to come and discuss strategies for showering. What I didn’t realize was that when you call hospice, they engage their organization like a precise military operation.

It felt like an invasion. And yet a compassionate invasion. (Can there be such a thing?) The phone was ringing several times a day to arrange for all the different visits.

The coordinator came on Tuesday and ordered the shower chair. The medical supply company rang the bell at 9 am on Wednesday to deliver the chair. A massage therapist called Wednesday and left a message stating he would be here at 2 pm.

On Thursday, his nurse came and a social worker as well. They were here for three hours.

Then a hospice aide came on Friday. She called and told Jeff she’d be there in twenty minutes. (Can you sense that I was starting to feel frustrated by this?) I was finishing up at the grocery store/pharmacy when Jeff called me to say she was coming and to please hurry home.

She was lovely, and in truth her visit was the most helpful. Jeff was having a rough morning, and he didn’t think he could make it upstairs to shower, so she bathed him and helped him dress in the half-bath on the main floor.

I just kept telling myself all week that this was all for Jeff, to make him comfortable and safe. But they said it’s for me, too. To help me feel a little less like his nurse and more like his wife. I just about cried when his nurse said that. I had been feeling so guilty about calling them because I thought I should be willing to take care of his personal hygiene. I had actually told my mom the night before I called hospice that there was so little of me left that felt like Jeff’s wife. I wonder if that is a common sentiment among caregivers. That the more intense the care becomes, the more it overshadows the relationship? So perhaps having the hospice staff take over some of that will help me focus on just being Jeff’s companion.

Now that everything is in place, I think this week will go more smoothly. We know which days to expect which person at an approximate time. And I know that as his condition worsens, it will be a blessing to have their skilled help to care for him.

God Leans Down

2010-07-20T09:03:00.001-04:00

Psalm 116:1-2 reads: “I love the Lord because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live.”

He hath inclined his ear unto me…

I have this mental picture in my head of a little girl sitting on her daddy’s lap. She wants to tell him something really important, but doesn’t really want everyone in the room to hear it. And so he leans down close so that she can whisper it in his ear.

God leans down to hear our prayers.

Happy Anniversary

2010-06-20T14:51:00.001-04:00

We’ve shared so much through the years—the triumphs and the heartaches, the special days and the ordinary ones. In fact, I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if you hadn’t been a part of it.

And I just want to tell you that if I had it to do all over again, you’re still the one I would choose to share it all with me.

--My anniversary card from last year

Jeff and I were married 18 years ago today. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure we’d get to celebrate that, but here we are. Praise the Lord! In fact, I’ve decided to stop thinking that this is the last birthday/holiday/celebration that we’re going to have him with us. Evidently, he is a fighter.

In terms of updates, I’ve been lax to write. It’s not that I want to keep information from you, but that I don’t want to depress you with weekly updates of the latest symptoms or how nothing’s improved. I’ve been unfair—asking you to pray and then not informing you how things are going. I am sorry.

The decline has obviously been slower than predicted, but there is a definite decline. It’s not something you notice daily, but looking back over the last six months, it becomes very evident. Jeff can only see shapes and shadows now, and only in well-lit conditions. Eating is a challenge that we handle by explaining locations of food on the plate: Roast @ 6 'o’clock, peas @ 2 o’clock, roll @ 9 o’clock, etc. He does better with foods he can pick up.

Walking is difficult, not only because the disease is making him unsteady, but mostly because he cannot see where he’s going. He got a walker a couple weeks ago, and that has helped him so much. He can now move with confidence through the first level of the house. And if he does begin to stumble, the walker is supposed to help him catch his balance. Today it helped him not to trip over the kids’ shoes. (We’re still working on not dropping things in the middle of the entryway or placing things on the stairs to be carried up later. Those were bad habits before that are now quite dangerous habits.)

Probably his most significant complaints aside from the vision loss are pain and some loss of taste. Most days his pain medication does a fairly good job of keeping him comfortable, but occasionally he just can’t seem to get adequate relief. Those are really rough days. I was concerned about how summer break was going to shake out with three noisy kids and one person with a constant headache. I think we are managing okay so far. (And yes, I have thought about sending them out after breakfast and locking the door after instructing them to ring the doorbell at lunchtime. But I haven’t done it. LOL)

The loss of taste is frustrating for him, as he was a bit of a “foodie” before. Not that I am a great cook, but he did enjoy fine food and the subtleties of flavors. Some friends have shared some tasty spicy recipes that he enjoyed. Fortunately our kids actually enjoy spicy food, too, as long as it is not too hot and they are great about trying new things. Mainly, Jeff eats pickles and chocolate these days. Oh, and salad. His doctor would be pleased to know that he can taste and does eat salad.

I had mentioned hearing loss before. That doesn’t seem to be any worse, really. The radiation oncologist had told us that there might be some hearing loss due to the treatment, and since it doesn’t seem to be progressive, I tend to think that’s all that is. On Friday, I was in the kitchen and he asked “Is that the ice cream truck?” I had to completely stop what I was doing and hold my breath to hear it, but he was right. A few moments later, the ice cream truck drove past our house. So he can actually hear, but he has trouble distinguishing between two sources of noise. For instance, listening to the TV while someone is talking in the next room is frustrating. He can’t make out one over the other. Honestly, I wonder if that is more from the headache than from hearing loss. But I’m not a doctor, so that’s just my humble opinion.

In all reality, we are very blessed. I truly thought we’d be in hospice by now if he was still living. He’s still Jeff which is something he was fearful of losing, worried that the radiation or the leukemia itself would alter his personality. His speech remains only lightly affected to the point where I wonder if anyone else really noticed the slight change but me. He’s still able to hug the kids every night and tell them he loves them.

And he’s still my best friend. Still finding ways to encourage me when I’m supposed to be encouraging him.

He’s always been like that. :)

Waiting for Normal

2010-06-02T09:25:00.001-04:00

I don’t even know what normal really is anymore. But I find myself wishing for it. *insert chuckle* Don’t we all?

I am tired of waiting. But in the meantime, I am learning. With each task (which used to be Jeff’s) that I’ve taken on, I find a huge sense of empowerment in its successful completion.

Last week one of our smoke detectors began chirping intermittently. It took two days to figure out which one was making the sound. It would chirp about three times then quit for a few hours. After narrowing it down to the second floor, I finally happened to be standing in my bedroom doorway when it chirped again.

“It figures,” I thought. The smoke detector in the master bedroom is located about halfway up the vaulted ceiling. I decided that if I was going to replace one battery, I was going to replace them all. No sense in lugging the ladder up and down the stairs more often that necessary!

One quick trip to Wal-mart, and about 30 minutes later, no more chirping. I was pretty pleased with myself. (Incidentally, we have a LOT of smoke detectors!)

Last night, I assembled a wooden glider all by myself. Do you know how difficult that really can be? The hardware parts that were included did not match the pictures or counts in the instructions. I phoned the customer service hotline and put the goofy thing together while I listened to the recording on speakerphone : “All of our agents are currently assisting other customers.” Once I figured out where the different bolts were intended to go, I just hung up. Ha! Turns out, I didn’t need any help. :)

All that to say this: I am learning that I can do this. I don’t want to do this, but I can. God’s grace is sufficient. Even if normal never comes.

Thirsty

2010-04-28T15:54:00.001-04:00

I try to make things seem as normal as possible. Lots of things are still the same, in truth. Household chores, lawn care, kids, daily stuff… My brain finds solace in routines: a way to move from one task to the next without really thinking, some might even say “ignoring the situation.” I wonder if that is a defense mechanism of some sort. A way for my heart to disengage in an effort to make things seem normal. I have felt numb for weeks now.

So, I was surprised to be suddenly suppressing tears on my way home from church Sunday night. Jeff had come to evening services with us. (No longer able to sit upright for very long, he listens to the service over a speaker in the pastor’s office where he can lie down on a couch.) Afterwards, I watched him walk his unsteady walk and stand waiting for me to come lead him to the car.

The ups and downs get to a person, especially when it seems there aren’t very many ups anymore. I hate seeing Jeff in pain. And in my frustration over it all, I’m afraid I’m not the comforter I ought to be.

With the increased weakness and intensifying pain come the questions “How bad might this get?” and “How much longer before things get really bad?” And then sometimes, when he is feeling comfortable, I think he could do this for a long while yet. I have no idea what to expect.

This is a dry and thirsty land, spiritually-speaking. This weariness of walking on with unanswered prayer. Does Jesus care? I can say with certainty that he does.

I’ve been through dry spells before—periods when my Christian growth seems stalled even while I am truly desiring His presence. Have you been there? You are thirsting for God, for evidence of His working in your life, but He seems elusive.

Could it be that He has designed this time as well? It would seem so. For when we are desperate for His presence, His leading, His comfort, no earthly substitute will satisfy. Like the Psalmist, I cry out “O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is. –Ps. 63:1

The Bible promises relief: For I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: I will pour my spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring: --Isa. 44:3

A friend read a passage to me this morning from Revelation 21 describing what the future holds for believers in Jesus:

1And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. 2And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God. 4And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

5And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. 6And he said unto me, It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.

Freely! No more dry spells! We will be whole. We will be satisfied in the presence of God.

And so having been reminded of these truths, I determine to keep walking. I keep asking. I keep longing for God. Knowing this: that He has always proven faithful, and He is bound by His essence to continue in that faithfulness. I will keep trusting.

In Your Hands

2010-03-11T08:15:00.001-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I heard a song on the local Christian radio station about being in God’s hands when our world is shaken. As we struggle through difficult times, it is not necessary that we understand all the reasons why, though we definitely wonder. God has us in His hands, and so we can rest that whatever this life brings, however shaken up our world might be, we can be secure in the knowledge that He is holding us.

I heard the song again last night on my way home from church and made a mental note to share it with you.

Lord, I hope you are not frustrated with me that I keep praying the same prayers over and over. I really do not know what else to ask. And trusting that You know what is best, I want to rest in Your hands today and always. Amen.

Living

2010-02-13T11:08:00.001-05:00

We are well-past the timeframe that Jeff’s doctor had given him. And though his sight is almost completely gone, he is still living. I don’t mean merely surviving, I mean truly living.

It would be easy to fall into despair having heard the news that he had only weeks to live. But Jeff has taken charge of his situation: insisting we take that vacation, recording audio and video messages for our kids, spending time with friends and family, having dinner at our favorite place downtown.

That’s not to say there are not moments when we wish this wasn’t happening. Or days when Jeff just feels too tired to get up off the couch. We have those, too. And we are spending increasingly more time driving to and from the doctor and the pharmacy.

This past week, he has been battling a blood clot and bronchitis. The kids have been sick as well. We are feeling rather cooped up. But everyone seems to be on the upswing now, and we are really looking forward to attending our daughter’s musical, Guys and Dolls this afternoon.

Jeff won’t be able to see her, but Megan will see him in the audience. We may even go to the movies this weekend. Even though he can’t see the screen, he can hear the story and he loves popcorn!

I just want to encourage you that none of us know when our time will come. Even when the doctors think they know, they are often wrong. Either way, long or short; in light of eternity, our lives here on Earth are so brief. Make the most of yours. Invest your time in things that really matter. Be sure of your eternal standing. If you do these things, then should you receive news that your time will be sooner than you expected, it will be easier to bear knowing you have truly lived.

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. --Abraham Lincoln

P.s. I apologize for allowing so much time to pass without an update. Something’s gotta give, as I am sure you understand. (I feel guilty blogging when the house is a dust-covered disaster.) I am thankful for your inquiries and prayers. Encouragement is a beautiful gift that makes this road easier to travel!

Wisdom and Encouragement – Part 6

2010-01-21T16:37:00.000-05:00

A Spiritual Prescription

Greet the morning gratefully, and let the day begin
with God's eternal nourishment of peace and joy within...
Take the cup of blessings measured out for you today
And let it overflow with loving care to give away...
Exercise the power of the Spirit in you deeds,
and keep your vision focused where the light of Heaven leads,
For God gives courage to the strong, and to the weary rest,
hope to lead a better life, and help to do our best.
And complete assurance of our soul's good health and care,
Our Lord, the Great Physician, calls us near to Him in prayer.

--Ambassador Cards

Wisdom and Encouragement—Part 5

2010-01-20T16:36:00.000-05:00

You are never alone, never left to your own ability, never found in a situation apart from God's knowledge, control and purpose.

--Kay Arthur

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you...Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. --John 14:27

Wisdom and Encouragement—Part 4

2010-01-19T16:32:00.000-05:00

May you feel the Lord's love and be blessed by the warm thoughts and wishes this brings you today...
May you rest on the faith that He answers our prayers in His will...in His time...in His way!

The Lord bless thee, and keep thee;
The Lord make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee; The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. --Numbers 6: 24-26

Wisdom and Encouragement – Part 3

2010-01-18T16:30:00.000-05:00

No ocean can hold it back.
No river can overtake it.
No whirlwind can go faster.
No army can defeat it. No law can stop it.
No distance can slow it.
No disease can cripple it.

No force on Earth is more powerful or effective
than the power of prayer.

--Author Unknown

Wisdom and Encouragement – Part 2

2010-01-17T16:28:00.000-05:00

God has not promised skies always blue,
flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God has not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God has promised strength for the day,
rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
unfailing sympathy, undying love.
--Kristone

Wisdom and Encouragement

2010-01-16T16:13:00.001-05:00

I’ve been going through a drawer filled with get-well cards. I had saved all of them that Jeff had received since his first diagnosis in 2004 until now. Because I was having trouble getting the drawer to close, I figured it was time I sorted them, keeping only the ones with personal messages.

Some of the cards had great messages of wisdom and encouragement, and I thought I would post some of those over the next few days.

Difficult things can cause us to ask, "Why did this happen?" But if we're trusting in Christ we never need to ask, "How could He let this happen?"

God may never reveal all His reasons to us, but He has revealed His character to us. His character assures us that He never makes mistakes, is never uncaring, and that He never separates Himself from our need.
--Roy Lessin

Fear not

2010-01-01T11:30:00.001-05:00

“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

Isaiah 41:10

There is so much comfort in that verse of Scripture! Isn’t that beautiful to know that ahead of time. No matter what 2010 will bring to us, God will uphold his children.

I have some idea of what is coming this year, and I know that on my own, there is not enough strength to bear it. Yet, I read this precious promise in Isaiah, and I know that God will help me. He will give me strength. He will even hold me up when I feel like collapsing under the weight of it all.

I’m so glad I got to know Him long ago. Long enough to see His working things out in the past. Long enough to know I can trust Him. Long enough to know I need not fear.

I hope you know Him like that, too.

The Way Things Are

2009-12-27T23:31:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in awhile, and I apologize. I guess I was reluctant to write this all out at such a special time of year. No one wants to receive bad news at Christmas. But I'm realizing that there just isn't any good time to deliver bad news.

Jeff had an MRI scan on December 10 to determine whether or not the treatment has been working. On the 17th, Jeff's oncologist at the Cleveland Clinic told us that leukemia had not responded. Not only that, but the MRI showed significant progression into the cranial nerves, brainstem and spinal cord.

I sat motionless, trying to absorb the conversation that followed. There is nothing left to be done, medically-speaking. But we're still praying for a miracle and for time. Jeff hasn't got much left.

We decided to tell the kids right away, only because drawing it out makes it that much harder. Kids can sense when something is going on, and we didn't want them to feel like they were the last to know. Please, keep them in your prayers.

That's the way things are around here for now.

And in the midst of this storm, there is still peace--an unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit. I was reading a passage of Scripture today about the work of the Holy Spirit. It's in Romans 8, verse 26, and it says "the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." This passage is teaching that the Holy Spirit prays for our infirmities--our sicknesses. That is such a blessed truth to me right now because I cannot tell you how many times I have started to pray and could not find words. I hope that truth encourages you as well.

She Hath Done What She Could

2009-12-12T15:11:00.001-05:00

Some weeks ago now, as I was making the bed, I caught a bit of an interview on the radio. The host of the show was speaking with someone about a devotional book based on the story from Mark 14 where Mary breaks an expensive box of perfume to anoint Jesus’ feet.

Either the phone rang or one of the kids called me away, but I was not able to hear more than just the introduction. But that little snippet got me thinking about that story and how it relates to having a servant’s heart.

And that’s when I started thinking of all of you.

So many of you that have prayed for us live great distances away. Some live right here and have wondered what you can do to help our family. But every one of you have demonstrated that heart to serve like Mary had.

For those of you that live far away, chances are that there is someone in your own neighborhood or church that could benefit from your help. And so, I’m going to make a list of all the “little things” that friends have recently helped us with:

•   Taking my turn in the nursery so that I could sit with my
        husband during the church service
•    Winterizing our lawn
•    Raking, mowing, and trimming shrubs
•    Rigging up our outdoor Christmas lights
•    Making meals
•    Planning special evenings with our children
•    Babysitting
•    Encouraging with calls, notes, e-mails, cards and such
•    Maintaining our aquarium
•    Hugs
•    Helping Jeff do some Christmas shopping
•    Picking him up to have lunch together
•    Listening – It is a tremendous blessing to have friends who
        don’t feel pressured to give answers, who simply listen.
•    Praying – this is no small thing!
•    Driving me and the cat to the vet and staying with us while she
        died. Then bringing us home and burying her for me.
•    Meeting me for coffee or lunch to just so I could feel normal for
        a little while

And here are just a few more “little” things that people have done in the past, either for us or for others:

•    Helping with bedtime routine--When Jeff was hospitalized in
        2006, a dear friend would come over on Friday nights to
        help with bedtime. I bathed kids, she helped with PJ's
       and read to them. After I tucked them in, we'd sit and talk.
•    Organizing the pantry or cupboards
•    Vacuuming under the couch and cushions
•    Cleaning out the garage
•    Winterizing the outside faucets
•    Shoveling the driveway
•    Sending music or links to encouraging music

And I’m sure there are a thousand other seemingly little things I could add to this list.

The bottom line is this: none of you can take Jeff’s leukemia away just like Mary couldn’t prevent the suffering Jesus would endure on the cross. But Jesus praised her in His answer to those questioning her extravagance. He said, “She hath done what she could.”

I love your servants’ hearts. You have blessed us by making our journey easier. You have done what you could.

Thankful

2009-11-25T16:46:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow is Jeff’s birthday. He reminded me that his driver’s license expires this year, and though he wouldn’t pass the eye exam for driving, we went anyway because he needs current photo identification. The lovely lady that waited on us quietly asked if he understood he would need to sign a form relinquishing his driving privileges. Indeed, he did.

Jeff handled today’s encounter just like he’s handled this whole illness—with graciousness and humor. He joked that maybe we should let him take just one more spin around the parking lot. Jeff has a way of making people feel at ease. When the ID form asked for “hair color,” we chuckled a bit. I wrote “red” because that’s what it was. (He hasn’t had any for years.) The clerk hesitatingly told us that the system would accept “bald” as an answer. “Oh. Well, ‘bald’ it is, then.” ☺

I am so thankful for the grace that God has given my husband to accept this loss of independence. It wasn’t gradual. He really did not have time to adjust to the idea. In July he was driving himself to and from radiation. In August, I drove him to his chemotherapy appointment, and he never drove again after that.

I just think his positive attitude is inspiring. Right now, that’s just the way things are, and he accepts that.

We really do have much to be thankful for, and we are counting our blessings.

May each of you have a blessed Thanksgiving!

I Believe, Therefore I Trust

2009-11-10T23:54:00.001-05:00

(Originally posted on Jeff’s Caringbridge page)

Jeff finished his steroids this weekend. He is able to sleep again finally, but the headaches and nausea are returning. It's been a rough evening.

His skin is really showing the radiation damage now. It is very red, and looks like it may blister. Of course, that is adding to his discomfort.

Our boys started asking some very pointed questions after bedtime prayer tonight. They are worried, but it provided a wonderful opportunity to review some of Jesus' miracles and talk about the power of God and our privilege to pray.

Are you facing anything right now that seems impossible? I would encourage you to take some time to think about the power of God. By him all things are and were created. That idea gets me every time. His creation is amazing--and yes, I believe it happened just as the Bible describes. Just as I believe he raised the dead, and healed the sick and restored sight to the blind. He is God! And I believe he has the power to heal Jeff. I don't know if that's part of His plan for us or not, but I believe it is possible, and I'm going to keep asking.

"Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth." Mark 9:23

Still trusting,
Adrienne

Grace

2009-11-08T13:17:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite hymns is “He Giveth More Grace.”

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater;
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction, he addeth his mercy;
To multiplied trials, his multiplied peace.

His love has no limit.
His grace has no measure.
His power has no boundary known unto men.
For out of his infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance;
When our strength has failed e’er the day is half done;
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

~~Annie Flint

What comes next?

2009-11-04T13:18:00.001-05:00

Since we hadn’t heard back from the Cleveland Clinic, Jeff called this morning to get his blood work results. Everything looks good in that regard.

Once his brain has had time to heal from the radiation, he will begin chemotherapy again. It will involve the same method of administration (intrathecal aka “spinal” ), but Jeff’s doctor has decided to use a different drug.

We have another MRI appointment in December and pray that those scans will show improvement. In the meantime, Jeff will be resting. He is extremely fatigued, and the steroids cause insomnia. As I am sure you all have experienced, a good night’s rest can make a world of difference in your overall outlook. Pray for restful sleep.

Two to Go…

2009-10-28T21:40:00.001-04:00

Just two radiation treatments left now. That drive to and from Cleveland takes a lot out of me. But then I remember that at least Jeff isn’t hospitalized. He is able to come home after every treatment.

The side effects from the treatments were really severe. This past weekend, he wanted to attend church but got very sick as we were getting ready to leave. He was able to hold it together for about forty-five minutes on Sunday afternoon while our good friend Angie took some family portraits.

Jeff was worried about his appearance knowing that the radiation can cause the skin to burn and blister, but I reassured him that his skin was clear. (I noticed today, though, that he looks like he is sunburned all over his head now.)

Having the session at our home meant that Jeff wouldn’t have to travel in the car or try to walk in an unfamiliar setting. (Going down the deck steps made me nervous enough!) Not long after Angie left, Jeff was terribly sick again, but I am so thankful he was able to participate. We had a good time being silly, tossing leaves and just being outside for a little while.

At Monday’s treatment, the doctor gave Jeff the OK to start steroids again. The effect really is dramatic as far as relieving the nausea and headaches. What a blessing that is! But he will also have to take the other meds now to deal with the side effects of the steroids. I think the relief that the medication brings is worth it.

We meet with the medical oncologist on Friday to hear what comes next.

Angie Arthur has finally started her photography business, and I am so excited for her. I think she is amazingly talented! Clicking on her logo below will take you to her Facebook Fan Page.

So far…

2009-10-25T16:10:00.001-04:00

Jeff has had five of the ten radiation treatments. He goes this Monday through Friday to receive the rest of them.

We have been blessed with friends and family that have stepped right in and said, “Tell me what you need.” The kids were taken care of and dinners were prepared and dropped off. Both efforts were such a huge help since we didn’t have any say in the scheduling times for Jeff’s treatments.

The side effects have been hard. The treatment only takes a couple of minutes, but by the time we are about thirty minutes down the road, he has a splitting headache. Nausea follows soon after. I am hoping that once his treatments wrap up on Friday, he will start to feel much better.

Change of Plans

2009-10-20T10:28:00.001-04:00

Yesterday’s visit to the Cleveland Clinic was a difficult one. Jeff’s new MRI showed more changes in the optic nerve as well as in his brainstem. That being interpreted means the leukemia is continuing to infiltrate his brain.

The team of oncologists responsible for Jeff’s care consulted other even more specialized oncologists and determined that the best course of action is to discontinue chemotherapy and begin whole brain radiation. Today.

So I’m rearranging schedules to accommodate this new development. That’s just the way life is sometimes. Unpredictable. We plan ahead to the best of our ability with the information we have. And sometimes we get new information that forces us to change gears.

You might be surprised to know that Jeff and I both slept very restfully last night. How is that possible? Well, a couple of thoughts come to mind. But, mainly, we are just that sure of God’s goodness. This is rubber-meets-the-road kind of faith in practice. And I tell you what, I am so glad to know God! I can not imagine how someone could digest the kind of news we received yesterday without being confident that God is faithful and good and wants to bear all our burdens.

What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do your friends despise, forsake you? Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield you; you will find a solace there. --Joseph Scriven

“But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me.” Psalms 3:3-5

Gramma

2009-10-19T08:40:00.001-04:00

In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I would like to introduce you to my Gramma Maxine. Diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993, she battled and won. I do not recall her ever being depressed or discouraged other than commenting that everything tasted like metal while she was undergoing chemotherapy. (I remember her saying that the only thing that tasted good was French fries. ) She took that diagnosis like a soldier and asked what the best battle plan was, then followed it-- mastectomy, chemotherapy, wigs, bone scans, and all-- until she prevailed.

She remained cancer-free for a number of years. On the day this photo was taken in 2003, she told us that the cancer had returned in her other breast. She also told us she would not be fighting this time. It was hard for us to hear, and harder to accept. But she was ten years older now, and I believe she wanted to enjoy the time she had left. “Chemo was too hard,” she said.

She made it until September of 2004. Long enough to see our youngest born. Long enough to hear Jeff’s diagnosis that August and tell me she had peace that he was going to make it. She died a couple weeks later and went home to be with Jesus.

I miss her so much.

I ♥ Faces is celebrating survivors and honoring the fallen this week. Clicking on the badge below will direct you to their site where you can view other photos and read their stories.

Think on These Things

2009-10-18T16:30:00.001-04:00

A dear friend of mine sent a message last night suggesting I meditate on Phillipians 4 before going to sleep. That is one of my favorite passages in the Bible, and so I thought I would share part of it with you, too.

Whenever a situation is looking dismal, remember these words:

Phillipians 4:6-9

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.

So I am reminded to lay my cares at the feet of Jesus through prayer, and fill my thoughts with things of beauty and truth and goodness.

MRI and Treatment #4

2009-10-17T09:40:00.001-04:00

This is something I’ve been dreading. While I desperately want to know if the radiation and chemotherapy have helped, I am frightened at the possibility that the news might be that the lesion has grown. Will an MRI be able to show the difference between the inflammation that the chemo obviously causes and an actual change in the size of the lesion? I don’t know.

I’m afraid to know.

And yet, I do need to know. The doctors need to know, of course. Is the treatment working? Do we need to be more aggressive? Is he ever going to see clearly again? Questions, questions, questions…

The uncertainty is enough to make me crazy. And when I start feeling that way, I remember that God sees clearly and knows everything that lies ahead. I can trust His goodness even when I don’t understand His plans.

Praying for good news from Monday’s MRI and for a smooth procedure on Tuesday for treatment #4.

Alone Time

2009-10-12T14:19:00.001-04:00

Having two Type-A personalities share the same living space 24-7 is not really the best scenario. Add a little stressor like, oh I don’t know, say Cancer, and things can get pretty dicey. Jeff is home and sick, and I should be overflowing with compassion and understanding. I find myself sorely lacking. My patience is thin. At a time when I should be bending over backwards to make him comfortable, I am more prone to bicker over silly things.

Any couple that enjoys a successful marriage will tell you that time spent apart is healthy. The trouble is that when I decide to go ahead and take some time to get out, I feel guilty that Jeff is sitting at home with virtually nothing to do.

It doesn’t seem right.

Over the past month or so, a couple of Jeff’s friends have come to pick him up and take him to lunch. One of the things Jeff has missed about working is the daily social interaction, so going out for lunch and good conversation really makes his day. That has been a help to me, too.

But I wish I could figure out something else that he would enjoy to pass the time. So far, the books on CD haven’t been a hit. He says listening just makes him sleepy. (Except for the Bible. He has listened half-way through that in just two months.)

So if you are praying for us, you can be asking for God to give me patience and inspiration. I’m all out of ideas.

Steroids

2009-10-01T20:43:00.001-04:00

It seems the recovery period after a chemotherapy treatment is a slow dance with a heavy-footed partner. How many days can you go around with the nausea and pain before begging for steroids to “cut in” as it were?

Jeff’s headache and nausea were becoming increasingly worse over the weekend, to the point where he actually was thinking this was as bad as the last treatment. I asked him on Tuesday if he was ready to start a steroid taper, but he wanted to see how he felt Wednesday morning.

He awoke feeling absolutely miserable, and decided he had had enough of the pain killers and took two Aleve instead and asked me to cut up his steroid pills into the appropriate dosages for the next five days. By mid-afternoon, Jeff was feeling so much better.

Now you might be wondering why someone might be reluctant to take something that helps so well. I suppose it could be different for every individual, but for Jeff, the side effects of steroids are very frustrating. He can’t sleep more than an hour at a time. They make him sweat, and then his skin breaks out. He feels irritable. His joints become tender. And then there are the long-term side effects for his heart as well, and that really bothers him.

But steroids may just be the only way to get through these treatments. It was nice to have Jeff feeling well enough to get out of the house for the day. I had several errands to run, and we got a lot accomplished along with lunch at Chick-fil-A and an ice cream cone later in the afternoon. (That’s more food than he’s eaten in four days!)

When he’s feeling better like today, I can actually picture him feeling normal again someday. And so, I’m thankful for the steroids for giving him relief.

I Love the Lord

2009-09-25T07:55:00.001-04:00

One of the reasons my love for the Lord continues to grow is that throughout my life I have seen Him answer prayer after prayer. Perhaps not in the way I asked Him to or as soon as I would have liked, but His ways were always so much better than the solutions I could have devised myself. His timing was always perfect. And so I trust that this situation is no different in that regard. I believe it with all my heart.

I love the LORD, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live... I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the LORD; 'O LORD, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.' Gracious is the LORD, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful. The LORD preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and he helped me. Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the LORD hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling. I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living. I believed, therefore have I spoken: Psalm 116:1-8

Update

2009-09-22T13:51:00.001-04:00

There was a slight delay this morning getting the chemo to the procedure room, not sure why exactly since we were just there yesterday to make sure the orders were where they needed to be. But everything after that went very smoothly. Every single member of the Summa staff we encountered was pleasant, some were downright delightful! I am so grateful for all of them who helped make our morning pass quickly. God is so good to take care of even smallest details.

Jeff is resting comfortably, hoping to catch up on some sleep. Thanks for all your prayers so far! I'll update again later.

Chemotherapy Today

2009-09-22T07:05:00.001-04:00

I’m getting everyone ready for the day. One kid’s off to school already and two more to go. Then it’s off to the hospital for Jeff’s spinal chemotherapy infusion. I can’t say I’m looking forward to this—the side effects last time seemed so severe. He developed a spinal headache and his vision deteriorated so rapidly and so much that he was not able to read much less return to work. The sudden loss of independence was quite a strain on the whole family as you can imagine.

So today I’m praying for minimal side effects, while I wait. Jeff’s take on this is a bit different. He feels that if there are side effects, the metho-trexate is doing its job. I understand that, but given the amount of vision he’s already lost, I’m worried this treatment could make him completely blind. Also, if he experiences another spinal headache, then a permanent port inserted into his right ventricle becomes more likely.

I’m trying not to worry, trying to put today along with this whole situation in God’s hands and rest in the truth that He always does what is best for us and for His glory.

I’ll post more later today. Thanks for checking on us and for praying!

Thank Heaven for Mothers

2009-09-15T08:00:00.001-04:00

Jeff’s mom called early last week and said that she and her husband were going to come for the weekend. Jeff’s step-dad wanted to spend some time with Jeff and help him with some various handy-man tasks that have come up. Mom asked if there was something she could help me with while they were here.

Well, I didn’t have to think hardly at all. Our routine is completely out of whack, and dinner around here has suffered. It isn’t as though I’m spending too much time away from home to get dinner ready. I think I’m just overwhelmed by everything and planning dinner has been the task my brain has abandoned to make room for other things that need attention.

So when Mom asked what she could do to help, I knew just what to say. I asked her to go through some of her recipes and help me make some meals to put up in the freezer. She loves to cook and has tons of wonderful recipes. And if the meals are already prepped, all I have to do is take one out of the freezer, pop it in the oven, and set the timer. I’m pretty sure I can handle that.

We spent about an hour on Saturday morning browsing through the recipes and writing out a grocery list for items I didn’t already have in the pantry. To make things even easier, I bought three of those rotisserie chickens from the deli to use for the chicken casserole dishes. (Less prep, and it was only about $1 more per chicken than if I had bought them raw and cooked them myself.)

I stacked up our 9x13 and 8x8 foil pans in the middle of the island, and we got cooking. Mom started an assembly line of sorts, mixing up the other ingredients while I took the meat of the chickens. Megan helped, too, mixing crumb toppings and running our finished products down to the freezer. In all, we made 4 main dishes, 2 side dishes and 4 desserts that day.

By the time all my ground beef had thawed, we were pretty tired and decided to do the rest later. Jeff and I finished prepping five meals yesterday morning.

You can click over on the sidebar for the recipes we used.

An Answer

2009-08-30T08:25:00.001-04:00

“I cried unto God with my voice, even unto God with my voice, and he gave ear unto me.” Psalm 77:1

God hears our prayers.

I think it is important to write down the ways God answers our prayers. Important because it serves as a reminder to praise Him, but also as an account to reflect upon while we wait for His answers to current needs. It strengthens our faith.

Jeff is doing so much better just after two days of the steroids. The nausea is gone, and the headache is much improved. Now we wait to see if it will also help his vision.

Weary

2009-08-28T20:48:00.000-04:00

I am exhausted.

Jeff's treatment was over a week ago, and while the procedure itself went well, he has been on bed-rest since Monday for a spinal headache. The house doesn't care, the laundry hasn't offered to do itself, the grass keeps growing , and the school year started anyway. I can't keep up. And I can't keep the kids quiet enough. Cooking? I can't even do that right and gave myself food poisoning yesterday. I feel constantly distracted.

These are the days when I wonder if God is paying attention. (This is not going to be one of those uplifting posts, I'm afraid.) Today I didn't hide my frustration with the pharmacy who refused to dispense Jeff's prescriptions even after I had called first and they assured me they were ready to pick up. They were filled according to the computer, but the doctor's office was unclear on the dosage instructions for one of the medications and so I could not have them. I still don't understand why they would not give me the other one at first, but I insisted that I wasn't leaving without it. I was really trying to hold it together, and I'm afraid I could have been so much more gracious about it. They finally decided it would be okay to give me the one without questions, so I checked out. I cried the whole way home.

Why does this have to be so hard? I want so much to handle this with grace, but some days, the stress of this gets to me. I know God really is paying attention, of course. Today He is stretching me, and it is terribly uncomfortable.

The pharmacy did finally get the medication issue straightened out, and I was able to pick it up before they closed. I'm praying that between the two medications, Jeff will start to improve. I'm going to go to sleep and rest in the knowledge that God loves us and wants to be our source of comfort.

Jesus said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28 Rest sounds good.

Be Still

2009-08-23T14:45:00.001-04:00

There’s just something about waking up early to discover everything shrouded in light fog that makes you want to be quiet.

To be still.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons God allows suffering. Maybe in the midst of a situation where we can’t see very far down the path, we more easily rely on His guidance. Maybe He doesn’t heal right away or find us a new job right away because once we’ve stopped squirming and crying in resistance and come to a form of acceptance that this is our path, He has an opportunity to reveal more of himself to us. We come to learn that He is able to truly sustain us through the most difficult of times.

“Be still and know that I am God.” the Psalmist wrote. God wants us to get to know Him, but we get so busy with the everyday. In the book of Job we find a man in the midst of terrible suffering, anguished in his pain, wearied of trying to defend his virtue to his visitors. God speaks to him and says “Stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God.” He wanted to get Job’s focus off his own suffering and back on the power and goodness of God.

It’s good be still. To be amazed in the glory of the rising of the sun, to marvel at His imagination in the design of His creation, to reflect on the wondrous ways God has answered prayer in the past, to just be, recognizing that each breath is a gift—this is what it is to be still.

Beautiful Ending to a Good Day

2009-08-21T10:51:00.001-04:00

Hello, all. We had a good, albeit long, day at the Cleveland Clinic yesterday. Traffic was not too heavy in the morning, which is a huge blessing. That drive really stresses me out sometimes. The lab was running on-time, so Jeff got right in for his blood-work. The tests showed that his blood is still 100% donor, and that means his marrow remains unaffected by this recurrence in the brain. That is great news.

We met with Jeff’s oncologist then, who explained the treatment plan. At first he said he was still uncertain how many treatments Jeff would need. This was because they’ve never caught this type of recurrence before the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) contained blasts. (The spinal tap from July was clear.) Typically, there is a treatment regimen to clear the CSF of blasts, then the spinal chemo once a month for 12 months. As he was explaining this to us, he decided to go ahead and treat Jeff aggressively. He won’t need a treatment regimen to clear the fluid since it is already clear, but he will receive the monthly chemo for 12 months. Since he had one injection pro-actively at the time of diagnosis in July, and one yesterday, he has 10 more to go.

We had quite a bit of time to wait between that appointment and the procedure time, so we walked over to the main hospital to have lunch. Au Bon Pain is one of the redeeming points of having to spend a day at the Cleveland Clinic. :)

Then we headed down to radiology where Jeff’s spinal chemo would be administered. There were some delays with getting the drug mixed and delivered, but it still started fairly close to the scheduled time. (This is done in radiology so that they can see exactly where to place the catheter.) After the drug was administered, Jeff was required to lay flat for one hour. So we left Cleveland about 4:15. Traffic was a bit congested, but not yet to typical rush hour proportions. Overall we had a smooth drive home.

Last night was also parent orientation night for our local schools. Since I was the only parent representative from our family available, I decided to attend Megan’s. (I understand that they don’t want to draw this out over a whole week, but I hope they are understanding that I cannot possibly be in three schools at the same time on one night.) I could have probably made it to the last 15 minutes of Ethan’s, but the sky opened up as a huge thunderstorm rolled in, and I just wanted to get home.

As I was pulling into our neighborhood, the storm was moving out and the clouds cleared behind me to reveal the sun. I thought to myself, “This is perfect conditions for a rainbow.” I turned the corner onto our street and this was the scene that greeted me.

I thought it was a lovely way for God to welcome me home. The sign of promise-- what a wonderful reminder to thank God for the blessings of the day!

Still, Small Voice

2009-08-19T23:46:00.001-04:00

I am so grateful that when Jesus ascended back into Heaven, he promised that the Holy Spirit would come to dwell within each believer. I am convinced that the peace I’ve come to know is a gift from the Holy Spirit. His voice isn’t audible, but if you are paying attention, it is unmistakable. It is a still, small voice—thoughts of scripture that suddenly come to mind just when you need them; gentle tugs at your heart as you hear a message or a spiritual song.

Whether it’s convicting or comfort that you need, the Holy Spirit is gently dealing with your heart. I knew it the day I realized that Jesus died to pay for my sins. Though I was in a room packed full of other campers, I knew just as surely as I know my own name that God was talking to me. He was compelling me. I responded immediately and as my counselor read to me John 3:16, I asked Jesus to forgive my sins and be my Savior.

That was 34 years ago last month. What a blessing to accept Jesus as a child. I had plenty of opportunity to exercise childlike faith. I fully accepted that the Bible was God’s divine word and I still trust it as such. Years of Sunday School and VBS provided a motivating environment to learn Bible verses. (Yes, the teachers gave us reward stickers or ribbons, but I tell you what—I still know those verses!) I do remember the teachers telling us that the reason we learned the Scripture was actually given to us in the Bible (of course!). Psalm 119:11 says “Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.” and later in verse 105 of that same chapter: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.”

The path of my life has been rather ordinary, I suppose. The last ten years have had some sections that felt increasingly difficult, but that Still, Small Voice kept reminding me of God’s goodness. In each test, there has been a Scripture that came to mind to bring comfort—to light my path, if you will. With Jeff’s initial diagnosis it was 2 Corinthians 12:9, the verse I have featured in the blog banner. When he relapsed, it was Isaiah 26:3-4 “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee. Trust ye in the Lord forever, for in the LORD Jehovah is everlasting strength.”

The verse that keeps speaking to me this time is found in Ecclesiastes 3:11. It says, “He hath made everything beautiful in His time.” Now, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that there is really nothing pretty about cancer. But that Still, Small Voice keeps assuring me that this is just a part of something beautiful that God is making. And I am listening. And trusting.

Joy

2009-08-16T22:19:00.000-04:00

This experience has been quite a bit different from the first two episodes. The previous diagnoses were followed with immediate hospitalizations that lasted one month the first time, two months with the relaspse. Then months of return trips to the hospital. There was a daily confrontation with the disease for all of us.

This time around, while perhaps more serious, our daily life has remained fairly normal. Jeff has been able to return to work part-time which means there has been little upset in our kids' routine. We are enjoying Jeff's days off which resulted from his being unable to operate until his vision clears.

One of Jeff's collegues wisely advised that no matter the outcome, we could never get this summer back so he should make the most of it. No sense dwelling on uncertainty or moping around the house. Aside from the headaches, Jeff is fairly healthy. So we determined to use his extra days as opportunities to make memories with our kids.

This past week was our last chance to plan some activities before chemo this Thursday and then school starting the next week. We took the kids hiking and rafting in a nearby state park on Wednesday and Thursday. And we spent yesterday at the beach with some dear friends.

We are determined to find the blessings--to focus on the good, to celebrate the joy. We have so much to praise the Lord for even in the face of cancer.

Good Day

2009-08-11T08:19:00.001-04:00

I had one of those empowering got-so-much-accomplished-today kind of days yesterday. I love those! Let's see, I had to take the van in to have a seal replaced. They finished it earlier than expected so I had time to run to the grocery store. Did about 5 loads of laundry, took the kids to the park, hit the nature store on the way home, made phone calls,paid bills, cooked dinner, cleaned up the dishes, then assembled dinner for tonight as well (Crock-pot chicken). And then Megan and I even had some time to scrapbook together.

Interspersed throughout the day, I received such encouraging messages and e-mails from friends. You are a blessing and I am so grateful for you!

Chemo’s coming

2009-08-09T15:51:00.001-04:00

It’s been about a week and a half now since Jeff finished radiation. The oncologists’ office called to say that he would be starting chemotherapy on the 20th of this month.

I still don’t know much about the treatment plan. And I know basically nothing about this type of recurrence. There’s nothing at the library on it, and even the specialists could only find three published studies in their medical journals, none of which suggested a clear treatment plan. When the people who are supposed to know this stuff tell you they don’t know yet how many treatments we are going to do, it is a little disconcerting.

I know their goal is to knock out this tumor before the cancer cells find their way back to the bone marrow where leukemia usually takes hold. (I’m still really fuzzy on how they ended up in his brain in the first place.) Since the drug will not cross the blood-brain barrier, these chemo treatments will be injected through a catheter into Jeff’s spine. (Think epidural and you’ve got the basic idea.) The cerebrospinal fluid will circulate the drug around the brain and the optic nerves where Jeff’s tumor is, killing off any cells that the radiation may have missed.

You probably have even more questions. Questions don’t scare me, so if you ever want more explanation, just ask. I’ll do my best to clarify. Questions foster learning. I ask them all the time.

When it comes to questioning God, you can be sure I have. But not, perhaps, in the way you might imagine. My questions are not angry or full of self-righteousness--though I can understand when people do that. And I do wonder “Why him?” and “Do we really need to do this again?” But really my questions are more along this line: whispering to Him that “I just don’t understand.”

Asking: “How will we do this?”
and: “Was there some lesson we failed to learn
the last time?”

My husband is a godly man, and I can think of plenty of reasons why he does not deserve this. And if God used cancer as a way to punish sin, then I would feel justified asking those angry questions. But the truth is, we live in a world marred by sin, the effects of which are violence, death, and disease. Those were not part of God’s perfect plan for this world or for us, but those were the consequences when sin entered the world. Cancer doesn’t care if you are a Christian or not, it just happens.

So if cancer wasn’t God’s plan, why does he allow it? Why doesn’t God just heal people right away? Those are good questions, too. I don’t know why. But I do know that He promises to work it out for good, and for His glory. Somehow, these experiences are part of a plan that God is working out to make something good. And for today, just knowing that is enough.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

Welcome

2009-08-07T15:07:00.001-04:00

I set up this blog so that I could have a separate place to write about my feelings and thoughts as my husband battles leukemia yet again. Some of what I have wanted to write lately seems too heavy to post on my other blog which has become more about nature and photography more than family “stuff.” Still, I imagine it will be hard to completely compartmentalize my thoughts to just this site.

It is my sole intention to write as I walk beside my husband through this valley. I often read back over the journal I kept the last two times and marvel how God gave us grace for the journey. As you read along, I hope you will be inspired to deepen your own relationship with God. And if you are encouraged by what you read here, well, that’s just an added blessing.