...Yet not my will, but Yours be done.

Luke 22:42
"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."

The prayer of our hearts for two years:  Father, please.  Please.  PLEASE!  Take this cup from us.  Heal Ryan.  Please restore him to health.  Please give us normalcy again.  Please do not let him go from this earth too soon.

But Lord, we do trust you.  We know Your character, and we know Your truth.  We stand on that knowledge, and that knowledge coupled with Your enveloping grace, are the only cards we have to play.  So Lord, we ask that Your will would be done, because we trust that even though it doesn't make sense on this side of eternity, somehow these plans are meant to prosper us (and to further Your kingdom, more importantly) and not to harm us.

I imagine that as Jesus prayed that prayer in the garden of Gethsemane, that he was probably feeling a lot like we are right now.  Dreading what lay ahead.  But yet also peacefully resigned to the will of the Lord.

You see, friends, we have been grappling with our own future this week, much the same way that Jesus grappled with his.  My blog post last Monday was almost triumphant in nature.  That was the tone of the day.  Things were looking up.  We were going to get out of the hospital.  Bleeding had stopped.  Our oncologist was starting to talk about the possibility of doing more treatments in the future.  We were ecstatic.

And then the bleeding started again.  In earnest.

And our doctor, full of compassion and concern, told us last Tuesday the words that we have so dreaded hearing.  We are out of options.  We have done everything that we can do to save Ryan's life.  It was now time to go home and enjoy what time we have left.  And that time is probably better measured in days and weeks than in months.

We have always wanted to keep this community, you, our support network, as up to date as possible, but facing what seems to be approaching has been difficult.  We needed time to process. I do hope you'll understand why we haven't been forthcoming with this news - it has ripped our hearts to shreds and we have struggled with how and when to tell all of you. I know that this post is going to be a tremendous letdown for literally thousands of people, and I so wish that I had better news to bring.

Thank you for the grace, love, and support you have shown our family for now over two years. Please pray with us for courage, comfort and peace right now. We continue to place our hope in the Lord, and we always will.

We love you.

He's out of surgery!

Waiting to see him still, but he is out.

Surgeon said that they were able to suture and coagulate the bleeding that was happening in a tumor just outside of the large intestine.  Praise God that there was no need to resect any of his bowel.  There was no bleeding happening when they closed him up.  We are so grateful for the balance that the surgeon took in being aggressive enough to fix the problem, yet delicate enough to not cause any damage to him.

So now what?  Ryan is being moved to the surgical unit to recover for the next 5 to 7 days (could be longer, depending on how he recovers).  We will be trying to make arrangements to come home as soon as we are able.

Oh Lord, you are so good to us and so faithful.  Thank you for loving us extravagantly and for covering us in your grace today.


In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

Pizza and baseball

Allow me to let down the walls for a minute.

A lot of you know me as a very strong person. I have a gift for mostly being able to compartmentalize my life and to throw my tantrums in private, but I also know that sometimes it's good to let people in to what's on my mind.

It's simple, really.

Pizza and baseball.

Now, before you think that Ryan really has hijacked my mind since being married to him, allow me to explain.

We live in a beautiful section of West Michigan, very close to a local dairy that has a pizza shop. We love the dairy and if you picked through our garbage at any given moment, you'd often find a black and white pizza box there, stained with the grease that serves as a reminder of delicious cheese, fresh veggies, and pepperoni that we enjoyed.

On many Friday nights, I pick up salad ingredients at the grocery store and when Colton and I get home, I make a salad. I call Ryan and ask him to pick up the pizza on his way home from work, and then wait for him to walk through the door with that familiar box.

After noshing on too much of our favorite pizza and probably too little salad, we head over to the couch, a remarkably short distance in our small starter home, and turn on the TV to watch the Tigers (when in season). Lots of cheering and hissing ensues.

I love pizza and baseball.

Normalcy.

On March 1st, my son and I were on our way home from a normal Friday. However, Dad wasn't coming home. He was on his way to CTCA with his father to be admitted to the hospital.

Colton asks me from the backseat, "Where my daddy?"

"Daddy is in a car with Papa. A doctor is going to fix his owies, Colton."

"My dad otay?"

"Yes, sweetie, he's ok."

"Mama, I want Daddy to come home. I want to eat pizza with my daddy. I want to watch baseball."

There was nothing that Colton could have said that could have driven the stake in my wounded heart deeper. I had an instant, almost visceral reaction to his words. Tears flooded my eyes and I immediately cried out, ME TOO.

There is nothing I want more than pizza and baseball. To sit at home. Snuggled with my husband. Tigers on the tv, pizza in our bellies. Colton begging us to pitch him his foam balls so that he can whack a "ho'run" like the boys of summer on the big screen. I want to kidnap Ryan from his hospital bed, rip out that drain that constantly reminds me of the uphill battle we are facing, and rush him and Colton home in time for tomorrow's spring training game. And pick up a black and white box along the way.

Normalcy.

Oh, how I ache for normalcy.

On Christ the solid rock I stand.

...all other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand.


Hello.  Here we are on Sunday, March 10.  I'm trying to keep the "clack clack" of the keyboard to a minimum as Ryan sleeps beside me.

The last couple of days have been both wonderful and rough.  Some close family members came into town for the weekend which was AMAZING, and we just said goodbye to the last of them.  We are back down to just immediate family plus one Amy. :)  It was wonderful to see people, but Ryan has been increasingly uncomfortable with some nagging GI symptoms.  Please pray for relief to come from those problems.  I think he'd be a thousand times happier if that were the case.

The bleeding has not stopped; if anything, it has increased slightly.  His hemoglobin is hanging in there, though, and we are grateful for that.  Radiation starts TUESDAY, please make sure that you circle and star that date on your calendar! When I know appointment times, I will make sure to tell you all so that you can specifically pray at the time of day that he has radiation.

Not much else to report medically.  Emotionally I think we are all just very drained and tired.  Monday punched us in the gut, then we got hopeful when there seemed to be some treatment options, and now it is very hard on everyone to see Ryan be uncomfortable.  Spiritually, Ryan continues to be our mouthpiece - or rather, God's mouthpiece, reminding everyone that our hope is in Christ, not here on earth.  I continue to remind myself of Romans 8:18: "I consider that our present sufferings do not compare to the glory that will be revealed in us."  Won't it be sweet, someday, for us all to have forgotten about these earthly troubles and to be in glory?  I'm shivering at the thought of that. How sweet that day will be!

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus' Name.

Pray for Dr. Eden!

Hello everyone.

Today has been a pretty calm day.  Ryan hasn't really had any procedures done except for another blood transfusion.  A slight downturn in both hemoglobin (darn) and bilirubin (yay!).  Bili will probably go up again tomorrow as a result of the transfusion but it's trending in the right direction.  It's important for it to go down so that we can do chemo.

Ryan met briefly with Dr. Eden (incredible, Christian radiation oncologist) today to talk about the upcoming IMRT treatments that he will start.  Good news: scans are first thing tomorrow morning and he can probably start radiation Monday, Tuesday or - HOLY COW, that was expedited.  Dr. Eden specifically asked for us to galvanize prayer support on our blog for him and his team.  A LOT hinges on these radiation treatments.  The outcomes that he is hoping for: stop/shrink new tumors and stop the exudative "leaking".  This is an extremely critical piece for Ryan to be able to continue treatment.  Please pray that Dr. Eden's hands will be guided by the Lord - that his team will be able to correctly map the radiation treatments and that the treatments will be effective.

More questions than answers

Hello.

Sigh.

I really don't even know where to begin.

Today has been so hard.  Could it have been worse?  Yes.  Was it what we were hoping for?  No.  Was it what we were expecting?  Yes and no.

I could go into a really long and drawn out explanation and tell you about all of the times that opinions and plans have been changed today, but I'll spare you.  Essentially, there are some big hurdles that we have to overcome in Ryan's journey, and here they are:

• The theraspheres did what they were supposed to do! But...
• Ryan's cancer has advanced in other areas.  There are new lesions on his liver, near his colon, and in his pelvis...
• ...but he isn't experiencing pain nearly to the level that he would with so many lesions, so there are questions as to whether all of these masses are truly cancer, or are they something else?  (Blood? Infection?)
• Ryan is starting to present with ascites (LOTS of it), but when he was drained, the fluid was mostly blood...
• which leads us to the question: from where is this blood coming?  Is he bleeding internally?  His doctor has never seen this from a Theraspheres patient.
• His bloodwork also brought some concern.  His electrolytes are out of whack.  His bilirubin is creeping up, which we are seeing in the color of his eyes and his face.

All of these problems and questions are leading to the conclusion: Ryan has to be admitted to have further testing and to get his counts stabilized.  We are able to do this in Muskegon, so once he is done getting a magnesium infusion, we will hit the road.  Long, long day.  No chemo today.  Hopefully we will start treatment next week as soon as this all settles down.

We so appreciate your prayer and concern and we desperately need more prayer for wisdom as we attempt to navigate all of these new developments.

My fear for our son

That precious face is my pride and joy.

That little two-year-old makes me alternately want to scream in frustration and yet also in exultation at his accomplishments.  He makes me laugh, and I shed tears over him often.  I spend much of my time thinking about his character, his integrity, his heart, his future, his needs, his happiness, and his hurts.

I also spend a lot of time thinking about how he could lose his father.

And I just can't imagine what it would be like to grow up like that.  I had both of my parents - still do.  All of my friends growing up were children of two-parent families.  I have no frame of reference for what it is like to be raised as the only child of a single parent.  And to suffer the excruciating loss of a parent at an early age...no, I cannot identify with that whatsoever.

You see, I have come to a certain level of acceptance of what the possibility of Ryan's death could mean for me.  I know in my head - no matter what is ahead of me tomorrow, I will have abounding grace to tackle it.  Whether that is the weariness of being a cancer caretaker for many, many years, or the heartache of burying the love of my life - I know that somehow, some way - I will endure that.

But the thing is, I am in my late twenties.  I have been a Christian long enough and I have been in this situation long enough to know that God will sustain me through any pain that might be in store.

But that sweet boy that is pictured above - he doesn't know that yet.

And likely, I will be one of the major people in his life to introduce him to this concept of contentment despite heartache, and commitment to God through any circumstances.

Gulp.  No pressure, ya know?

Ultimately, I'm afraid for my son and his future.  I'm afraid he might grow up bitter if he loses his dad.  I'm afraid that he will always feel an aching and a profound sense of loss that no male relative or family friend will ever be able to begin to ease.  And I'm afraid for myself - how would I ever provide for my son's emotional and spiritual needs?  What if I fail my son?

What if I fail my husband and his expectations for our son's upbringing?

"God is an ever-present help in trouble." Psalm 46:1

"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling." Psalm 68:5

As much as my head can start spinning when I consider all of the possible outcomes and all of my shortcomings as a mother (and a person in general), I have to just stop.  STOP.

My God is sufficient.  For me.  For my husband.  For my son.

For you.

And - deep breath - no matter what is in store, God is going to support me (us), hold me (us) upright, gird me (us), and defend me (us).

Psalm 23

A psalm of David.

1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

2     He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

3     he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths

    for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk

    through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil,

    for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

    they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

    forever.

Thank you, God, for being enough for me.  For Ryan.  For Colton.

Thank you for protecting all three of us.  And I know you will continue to, no matter what lies ahead.

My new years resolution; a year of surrender and faith

I attended a conference last month put on by the Christian Camp and Conference Association for all camping professionals in the country and Canada. It is a combination of professional development, relationship building, and spiritual renewal. The theme this year was Strong and Courageous. This was taken from:

Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

9 Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.

I was asked to speak briefly about my experience with cancer and my perspective on Strong and Courageous. As I prayed about it the words surrender and faith came to mind. 

Since the conference I've had this rattling around in my head and I can’t get loose of it. 

Strength come through surrender, courage comes through faith. 

At first it sounds like courage is something I’m supposed to “do”. Go out and conquer the world no matter what. Before cancer I probably had that approach. I could go and do anything I wanted to. There was nothing I put my mind to that I couldn't accomplish. 

Now that’s totally different. I’m a shell of myself. I’m weaker and more worn down than I've ever been. I know I’m commanded to “not be terrified, do not be discouraged” but the more I try not to be the more I am some days. Some days “terrified” is exactly the word to use to describe how I feel. So what am I supposed to do? 

I don’t have the strength to overcome right now. I can’t cowboy up and push through. I've tried. These emotions aren't fake or a figment of my imagination. They’re real. It’s proof that I've got a long ways to go in my walk with the Lord. If my faith was greater, maybe I wouldn't struggle... but I might make a speculation that Jesus himself was afraid and weak the night he prayed for mercy and relief in Gethsemane. His humanity shines through in that moment of pure vulnerability. 

First, in order to gain strength and “be strong”, I must surrender all that is dear to me. Maybe it’s money like the rich young ruler, maybe it’s family like Abraham, maybe it’s comfort like Paul with his thorn in the side, maybe it’s your children’s decisions like David. Whatever it is, the more I cling to the things that I don’t want to lose, the quicker they slip through my fingers. 

We’re all familiar with:

2 Cor 12:9-10
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 

This makes no sense. The weaker we are the stronger we are? It’s 100% opposite what our culture tells us. When you fight cancer everyone comes and tells you to “keep fighting”. I know what they mean, and that they mean well. However, ultimately I don’t think one lives or dies from cancer solely because they choose to keep fighting. I won’t deny that attitude and determination play a part, but I know that I may very well choose to buckle down and fight like crazy and still lose this battle. 

I think that’s like life. We are so afraid of losing the precious things in our lives, we hold onto them tightly. Then when we face adversity we buckle down and fight like crazy to “overcome, persevere, or get through”. We’re called to do the opposite though. It’s only through our weakness that God will take those things we once held dear and use them for His glory in a way that we never imagined. 

Being willing to submit yourself to the will of God - no matter what it might mean in your life - is a scary idea. Deep down in our hearts, most of us have things we’re hiding, holding onto, or avoiding. If we want to be strong, we must be willing to truly surrender those intimate and vulnerable places we’ve been keeping God out of. 

I was forced to surrender a lot in my life. So that was out of my hands. I’ve learned more about how to willingly surrender things along the way, such as Colton’s future, my wife’s future, the ministry goals I’ve had, and more. I wouldn’t say I have that lesson down, but like I said, I’ve been forced to learn this one. The lesson that I’m struggling with is courage. 

I’ve always thought of myself as a courageous person. I rode unbroken horses, I wasn’t afraid to have hard conversations, and I’d like to think I would do what was necessary to defend my family or my country if called upon. There was a lot of bravado wrapped up in that, though. That kind of courage is about me, what I can do, how brave I am. The object of the courage is the individual.

As I read through scripture though there’s an overwhelming pattern that when one is told to be courageous it’s almost always in the context of, “the Lord is with you, the Lord will guide you, the Lord will provide”. I haven’t done a study to know if it’s every time, but it’s a lot. For instance:

Isaiah 41:10

New International Version (NIV)
So do not fear, for I am with you;
    do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I’m told to “do not fear”. That’s great but I still do. Why am I afraid? What causes me to fear? Well right now the circumstances of what I’m facing are greater than my perceived capacity to overcome them. In other words, I can’t get out of this jam. 

I’m told that God is with me, not to be discouraged, for He is my God. He will strengthen me, help me, and uphold me. So what am I afraid for? Again it has to do with my faith. Do I really trust that God is in control when life feels so out of control? Do I really trust that God’s still got a plan for me when all my plans have fallen a part? Do I really believe that God is still MY God, when it feels like He has abandoned me? 

When I’m afraid, the answer is no. I’m not trusting that God is God. I do not believe He is still sovereign. 

When I am at most peace is when I’m most dependent upon Him and I’ve chosen to surrender and trust Him. These moments are indescribable. It feels like a high of thanksgiving, peace, and hope. I haven’t found anything that compares to this feeling. Not only that, but God has used me in ways I could’ve never imagined before cancer. He’s opened doors for Kendra and I that we’ve dreamed of only now it’s happening and bigger and better than we dreamed. 

So as I look to this New Year my goals and my encouragement to you is let’s be a people of surrender and faith. Let’s be a people that commits to being brave enough to let God into the recesses of our hearts and use our weaknesses to His purposes. I may not make it through the year, but whether I do or don’t, if I live my life like that - it won’t be wasted. 

I'm at war with a nasty enemy!

"I'd rather be in pain than be nauseous."

That's a statement I've made many times.

Well here's a new one. I'd rather be in pain than itchy! For the last six weeks I've had persistent pain that has had varying degrees of severity. At times early on it was pretty intense. Now it seems to come and go and I mostly feel it when I take deep breaths or bend the wrong way. After tests and more tests we all feel that this pain is a rare side affect from the Therasphere radiation treatment.

I can handle pain for some reason. I've had horses flip upside down on me and kept working. I've been kicked, punched, clobbered and more through many years of sports. I've broken bones, twisted ankles, and torn ligaments. The worst pain I ever experienced by far was pancreatitis due to a reaction from yet another medical test. That's another story though.

Every year during the Spring, Fall, and periodically through the winter the itchiness sets in. I'm not talking about a fleeting itch that a simple scratch can absolve. I'm talking about deep, burning, persistent, nerve-wracking itchiness. Sometimes it's all over. My thighs, belly, arms, legs, scalp and everywhere in between. Lately it's been more concentrated in my lower legs and feet.

This is concerning for two reasons.

One, it could be a symptom from the cancer called pruritis. The bile building up in my body causes me to itch, become jaundiced and more. It could just be the regular battle I do with extreme dry skin exacerbated by all my treatments. Either way, it's impossible to tell and so you always wonder.

Two, it's driving me nuts. I hate being itchy. It keeps me up at nights, wakes me up in the morning, distracts me through out the day, and overall is a constant nemesis. It is a battle I have to fight against a faceless enemy to chicken to show its face. Instead it torments me from afar. The more I scratch and dig the worse it gets. No amount of medicated lotion cures the problem. Don't even get me started on how insecure I am about being a cowboy with softer skin and smoother hands than a Johnson baby soap model!

Kendra asks me all the time if I'm afraid of the potential future effects of this cancer. If I'm in pain now, am I afraid of more intense pain in the future? I'm really not. I have always been able to handle pain, and there are things to help with that.

You know what I'm afraid of? Non-stop, intense, make-you-want-to-burn-your-own-skin-off itchiness. There's two reasons why.

1. I hate being itchy!

2. It makes me so grumpy that I could give Walter Matthau a run for his money! It tends to drive me nuts. I'm edgy, irritable, short, and frustrated. If this is just the beginning, I'm afraid of the test of my character that it will be. Do I have the seasoning to face this foe with the grace and charity that my family deserves? I sure hope so. I know I won't be able to do it out of my own strength.

I've really been thinking through the words "Strong" and "Courageous". This was the theme of the Christian camping conference I just came home from and I can't get it out of my head.

I'm going to expand more in a different post but basically I keep coming back to the thought, strength comes through surrender, courage comes through faith! It doesn't matter what it applies to, facing cancer or wanting to scratch my eyeballs out.

So here I go God.

I surrender my physical comfort to you. Should you in your infinite and perfect wisdom allow or place me into a place of temporary or permanent displeasure I will trust that you are God and that is where I'm supposed to be. God if I really love you and trust you then even though I'm afraid of the future and what it might mean, please give me the faith to obey you with my heart and my spirit. Please give me the grace to face the future no matter what it is in a way that honors and blesses you. I pray that those around me would be encouraged by my heart condition and not provoked, discouraged, or pulled away from you. God transform my character during this process. Teach me to manage my emotions and to not let my physical conditions affect my spiritual and emotional state of being. I pray You would remove this from me, but more than that I pray Your will be done. Thank you for all the blessing I do have. Thank you that twenty months later I'm really only complaining about being itchy. I don't deserve any of it, and yet you are a giver of good gifts. In Your name, Amen.

I'm Ornery

This week has been a great week. I'm not sure why. Even though I've felt up and down physically, I've had a deep sense of joy, peace, and fulfillment for a little over two weeks. I keep walking around just feeling so blessed and overwhelmed by what God has provided for me. Whether I was at a conference in San Diego, or sitting with my family reading books or watching movies, or having a couple really great days at work; I've emotionally and spiritually been in a great place the last couple weeks.

It's been wonderful.

Now I'm ornery! Why? I just found out today that we're going to be getting scans on December 26th. We knew they were coming but hadn't been able to pinpoint the date. Now I know, I'll be driving to a hospital to get scans and go through my least favorite part of this journey... on Christmas Day.

I'm not usually one who gets too hung up on holidays having to be celebrated on a certain day. For some reason this just isn't sitting well with me. I've been having the best time with my family ever lately and I am so excited for a little more quality time over Christmas. The last thing of all time I want to do is drive to Chicago to go to a hospital.

I'm so mad that Colton is going to spend Christmas night in a hotel. This combined with insomnia lately and not feeling too great today physically, have all led to me being a grouch tonight.

Here's the worse part. I'm mad about losing quality time with my family, and my response was to be a grump to my family???!!!!

What's wrong with me?

Can you relate to this one at all? Why is it that we often take out our frustrations on the people we love the most who may have nothing to do with the circumstances?

There's a lot of things I hate about cancer. I hate how it steals things from my life. I hate how it makes me feel violated and robbed. It intrudes into areas that I've tried to protect and keep "normal". I can't hide anything from it. Two summers ago we were blessed to spend a week at an incredible Lodge that friends allowed us to vacation at. Instead of totally relaxing, I was puking my guts out and had my worst cycle yet. Again, all I wanted was family time, instead I got more cancer crap!

Cancer invades like a plague. It looms over every part of your life. Like a dense fog that overtakes everything in its path, sometimes you just can't avoid it.

Sometimes it just plain makes you ornery, and that's okay. To be ornery. Unless you're a stepford wife or a robot, you're going to have emotions. What do you do with them though?

Ephesians 4:26

²⁶ “In your anger do not sin”...

I crossed the line when I took things out on my family. Emotions are powerful. The same high I've been riding the last couple weeks was just as emotionally driven as the low I experienced today. If we rely solely on our emotions we'll either think too highly of our selves or before too long we'll come crashing down to reality.

It's God's truth that we must cling to so that our emotions don't betray us.

One of my favorite ways to praise God is to remember the names of God. My grandmother taught me this.

ELOHIM......Genesis 1:1, Psalm 19:1 meaning "God", a reference to God's power and might.
ADONAI......Malachi 1:6 meaning "Lord", a reference to the Lordship of God.
JEHOVAH--YAHWEH.....Genesis 2:4 a reference to God's divine salvation.
JEHOVAH-MACCADDESHEM.......Exodus 31:13 meaning "The Lord thy sanctifier"
JEHOVAH-ROHI......Psalm 23:1 meaning "The Lord my shepherd"
JEHOVAH-SHAMMAH.......Ezekiel 48:35 meaning "The Lord who is present"
JEHOVAH-RAPHA.........Exodus 15:26 meaning "The Lord our healer"
JEHOVAH-TSIDKENU......Jeremiah 23:6 meaning "The Lord our righteousness"
JEHOVAH-JIREH.........Genesis 22:13-14 meaning "The Lord will provide"
JEHOVAH-NISSI.........Exodus 17:15 meaning "The Lord our banner"
JEHOVAH-SHALOM........Judges 6:24 meaning "The Lord is peace"
JEHOVAH-SABBAOTH......Isaiah 6:1-3 meaning "The Lord of Hosts"
JEHOVAH-GMOLAH........Jeremiah 51:6 meaning "The God of Recompense"
EL-ELYON..............Genesis 14:17-20,Isaiah 14:13-14 meaning "The most high God
EL-ROI................Genesis 16:13 meaning "The strong one who sees"
EL-SHADDAI............Genesis 17:1,Psalm 91:1 meaning "The God of the mountains or God Almighty"
EL-OLAM...............Isaiah 40:28-31 meaning "The everlasting God"

(taken from http://www.smilegodlovesyou.org/names.html)

Regardless of how I feel, when I remind myself of who the God I serve is, my faith is encouraged.

Regardless of where I will spend my evening Christmas night, or what tests, stress, and anxiety await me the next day, my God is still; the God of the mountains, the Lord my shepherd, and the everlasting God!

The question I hate the most.

I'm so frustrated of being asked that question. Everywhere I go everywhere I turn around I get asked, "so how are you doing?". As soon as the words start coming out my anxiety rises and I start getting irritated.

Here's the catch though, it's not the people or the question that bothers me. I actually really feel cared for when people ask how I'm doing. Many people apologize before they ask and there is really no need. I don't mind you asking.

I'm also very comfortable talking about myself and my condition. I don't have a problem discussing my medical experiences, treatments, and options.

So what drives me nuts?

The answer, I can't answer this question. It's getting steadily harder and harder to try and share how Kendra and I are doing. Physically is a simple answer. It's emotionally and personally that is almost impossible to describe. So I get frustrated not at you or the question, but at me and the answer.

Here's why it's so hard. The answer is complete opposites most of the time. I'm doing great and terrible all at once. I'm healing and I'm dying all at once. We feel an indescribable sense of peace and God's grace and also cry into each others arms during moments of fear and terror.

For example, Kendra and I may drive down the road and see a house or a condominium and start having a very casual conversation about whether she would want to live in a condominium if I die. Five minutes later we might be talking about where to take our grandchildren on vacation.

I can go from feeling closer and more intimately connected with Kendra to irrational emotional outbursts and a hard heart from day to day.

The longer this battle wanes on the better and worse we are doing. The pressure is still very real, and for Kendra the grind of living life, working full time, being a mom, a caregiver and more are overwhelming at times. For me due to the side effects I continue to feel further removed from the person I always used to be.

So how do I answer the question? To answer "great" or "terrible" would only be giving half the answer. I can't figure out how to describe this duality of emotions though. So I'll probably continue telling folks that I'm doing well but it is a daily battle.

So please don't stop asking me (or others in my situation) how I'm doing.  I appreciate your concern.

But know that sometimes, it's the most difficult question of all.

And if the answer may not make sense to you, perhaps you'll know why.

...aaand, we're back.

Hello friends,

We are back home after a (thankfully) short trip to the ER.  Essentially, we didn't get much news, but our ER doctor and CTCA doctors think that Ryan's pain is likely a reaction to the treatment.  That's not necessarily normal, but after running tests (all which showed nothing of concern), it appears that is the most likely explanation.  Also, since his pain could possibly even be attributed as a muscle strain/spasm in a normal, healthy person, there is even a possibility that he may have tweaked his side.  Ironically, we were almost in a car accident on Wednesday just a short time after his procedure - someone cut in our lane and I had to slam on my brakes after they did the same thing right in front of me.  We slid back and forth and came extremely close to hitting them.  Ryan may have braced himself and it wasn't too long after that near-miss that he started to feel really poorly.

So, since blood work seems to be nondescript and none of the doctors seem up in arms about this pain, we are not going to be alarmed, either.  We are grateful for your prayers and covet them in the coming days as Ryan tries to relax and manage his pain through ice, heat, and anti-inflammatory drugs.

We love you all.

-Kendra

Thankful, yet worried.

Hello friends,

This is a day to remember what the Lord has done for us!  We are grateful for His provision and his mercies and since last year, we have tried to live each day with Thanksgiving. (See this previous post.)

Yet today is a concerning day.  I write this post from a Marriott in Kalamazoo - another day, another hotel.  We came here last night to rest before our family's Thanksgiving dinner today in Gull Lake.  However, Ryan has been having increasingly concerning symptoms, most notably intense pain.  We are not sure why the pain is here.  He has had slight, intermittent pain throughout his whole journey, but not this prolonged and not this severe.  He literally can hardly breathe or move.  We are unsure whether or not this is cancer metastasis, or simply irritation from yesterday's procedure.  We are praying for the latter.  We are also praying for wisdom.

We will keep you posted, but in the meantime - enjoy your Thanksgiving and please pray for us!

It's not normal to feel so ...... normal

I've been off chemotherapy for a couple of weeks now. After the last set of scans we decided to move towards an aggressive and relatively new form of radiation called Theraspheres. Basically they'll inject radiated glass beads (smaller than the width of a hair) into my body which will then flow through arteries and veins to target the cancer internally.

We've been waiting for some scheduling conflicts to work out and I don't have a full update but here's what we know now. I'll be getting the "mapping" procedures done on Monday. This includes some blood work, but really it's a trial run to make sure there are no abnormalities in my vessels and that the radiated material doesn't leak into my lungs. Then the following Monday the Dr.'s will review my results to determine if we move forward. There is very little chance of a complication but just because it's unknown makes it worrisome. Please pray that all these test go well and there are no issues.

If I clear all the tests then I'll most likely receive the injection the Thursday after Thanksgiving. This is later than we expected and it has been frustrating trying to work around multiple Dr.'s schedules and Thanksgiving. The concern is how long I've been off of treatment. You can't do chemo for a couple weeks before the radiation. Not knowing it would take this long I've been off treatment longer than I expected.

This is a bittersweet circumstance. We're nervous about not treating for a month and a half. I do trust that God is in control but this isn't what I would have liked. However not doing chemotherapy for this long has allowed me to feel great the last couple weeks.

I forgot what it felt like to feel so normal. I have more energy, I've been able to help out more around the house, even played volleyball this week. More than that I've just felt more like myself. The indescribable effect of a year and a half straight of chemo has become my new normal. It affects my energy, my motivation, my appetite, everything. These drugs are designed to kill things and they do their job well.

I don't have a lesson or point to make. I just wanted to give an update on what we've been up to lately. I'm extremely excited to go to Chicago this weekend. I get to see my youngest brother Corey complete his final college football game. I can't tell you how proud I am of Corey and the Godly man he's become. He's a leader on his team and has been an incredible encouragement to me over the last year. It's so exciting to see what God's got in store for him.

I will also be giving the devotional to the team on Saturday morning. This will be the third time I've had the privilege of speaking to this team this year. I don't know what their win loss record is after hearing me but they keep asking me back. It's extremely rewarding to be able to encourage and hopefully inspire these young men to live their lives fully committed to Christ. Please pray for me as I really want to make sure what I share is what God has for these men to hear.

Thank you so much for all your prayers and support. Kendra and I don't get tired of hearing "I'm praying for you". We don't take it for granted and we know we're only in the position we're in right now because of God's grace and your constant lifting us up. This has been an up and down month for us and we have needed all the prayers we could get. Please pray that the procedure goes well, that the cancer is not spreading, and that my family would continue to be protected from the toll and effects this could take on them.

Is Wednesday more important than Tuesday?

(In the most dramatic voice of all time...)

"This Tuesday the fate of the world rests in your hands. Your vote and your vote alone will save all of humanity from imminent and complete certain destruction. The choice is simple. Candidate A will close the holes in the ozone, save the unicorns, and bring our country back to the good ole days of milkshakes, leisure suits, and wood paneled cars! Candidate B hates you and everyone you care about. They revel in your pain and suffering. Nothing they do has ever been, is not currently, nor could ever be remotely successful because they're the worst human being ever."

In my younger years (I know I'm only 26, some of you are rolling your eyes pretty hard right now), I used to get pretty animated about politics. I was very excited that I turned 18 on a presidential election year. I exercised my right to vote then, and took it seriously... until I got into the booth and learned that judicial candidates don't have party affiliations next to their name.

Whoops. Missed that one. Hopefully eenie meenie miney moe was spirit directed that afternoon because that's how we overcame that bit of poor planning.

The last presidential election I was 22. This time I was married, had a full-time job and felt much more "adult". I don't know if that was why I felt so much more anxious than the first time around. I remember the night of the election I stayed up way too late. That whole day I furiously checked the internet, the news, and the radio for some sign or indicator that my candidate was winning.

I was afraid of the consequences of the other guy winning. What would it mean for America, for me, for my family some day? The stakes felt so important that I was uneasy and irritable all day long.

This year things are quite a bit different for me. I still care. I still take it seriously, and know it's a special privilege to live in a country where I have the right to vote. I believe we should be informed, discerning, and judicious in our decisions when we cast our ballots.

So what's changed? I'm not worried one bit about who wins. I'm not anxious, nervous, or concerned about the outcome.

What it boils down to is God will still be the sovereign God of the universe on Wednesday morning. His plans can not be thwarted no matter who is President of America. My daily walk with the Lord should not and will not change based on who the President is. My purpose is still the same, the commandments I've been given are still the same, and God's plan for the world is still the same.

The question I've been struggling with lately is, why was I more emotionally concerned about elections in years past than I was about unsaved friends and family, orphans, or suffering people? I rarely, if ever, have stayed up late at night full of anxiety about the salvation of the people I love. Can you relate to this? Maybe you're a better person than me. I felt pretty guilty when I realized where my priorities have been the last couple years.

Cancer changes things quickly. I'm not advocating disengaging from society and not playing your part. I'm not saying that voting isn't important. Quite the opposite.

What I'm asking is: do you care more about what President you're following or what purpose you're fulfilling?

Panic at the Home Depot

Full disclosure: I am really, really struggling with fear right now.

Yes, I know Joshua 1:9 tells me to not be afraid.  I've been commanded.  I know that my God is a strong tower in a storm.  I know that the He has plans to prosper me and not to harm me.  But with very important scans staring us in the face and my husband mysteriously has dropped weight recently, I am almost at full-scale panic attack.

My meltdown this afternoon came about very strangely.  I had a lot of time to kill between parent-teacher conferences, so I decided to go wander around and enjoy the beautiful warm air, so unlike a late October day here in The Mitten.  I walked into a Hallmark store and began to browse around.  I picked out a couple of Christmas ornaments for friends with new babies, and I was scanning the aisles for other treasures.  Suddenly I came upon a rack of recordable books, the tagline "Recordable Books - for when you're not there to read it yourself".  All of a sudden, I had this "flash-forward" (kind of the opposite of a flashback), envisioning my son listening to one of those books at seven years old with his father's voice coming out of the book.  Because his dad isn't there.  Because his dad had died of cancer.

I froze.  Dropped the ornaments right there next to the books and hightailed it out of the store.

My mind a jumble and my nerves shot, I decided that Home Depot would be a nice, big place to get anonymous and lose myself in admiring appliances.  But I could not shake that image of my son listening to his dad's voice through a recorder.  I actually began to cry (in public) while standing in front of carpet samples.  I was horrified and I'm pretty sure that the Home Depot employees were, too.

I trust in you, Lord.  I know that no matter the outcome of these scans this week, that your will should be done.  And it will be.  But I'm so darn scared.  I'm so darn scared of that image of my precious son, fatherless.  I beg of you, God, please heal my husband.

Sounds of silence

Do you ever feel like life is piling up on you? You feel like you have so much to do that you're doing everything okay but not anything great? That feeling of treading water indefinitely but you're not sure how much longer you can hold on?

Maybe you're beaten down because of work, or family, or finances, or health. Maybe it's all of the above. Sometimes the anxiety of a big decision or even a bunch of smaller ones can create this feeling of uncertainty and unknown.

I have no idea what the next three months, six months, a year, or five years look like. That can scare me. As a long-range planner, I rarely find myself in this position. Yet no matter how much time I spend thinking about things, asking others for advice, and praying there is just no way for me to know how to prepare for the future.

I can make the best made plans and due to my health they can become irrelevant in an instant. I could never make any plans and then even when I feel well and things are going well I'd never do anything because I didn't plan.

I'm stuck. It's not just big stuff like jobs, and cars, and houses. It is little stuff too. Do I accept a speaking opportunity not knowing how I'll feel? Can I make this appointment for work? Can I take Kendra out on a date? I just don't know.

When I look to the future I see so many incredible and exciting opportunities. I could be headed in any one of a couple different directions and they're all excellent opportunities. I just don't know how to prepare.

I think the problem is I've been doing too much talking. When I pray I do most of the talking. I feel like I'm missing half the conversation. A spiritual discipline that I haven't developed enough is listening to God.

A mentor challenged me to stop trying to figure things out and start listening. He gave me a book by Mary Geegh called God Guides. This incredible woman was a missionary in India for over 35 years. The book is a collection of stories from her life and how the habit of listening during times of uncertainty, confusion, or turmoil led her to some incredible places.

As I read the book I started trying to do it myself. I was doing my radiation in Chicago at the time and was alone during the week for 8 weeks. It started out rough. My mind raced, distractions danced around the room. I could barely scratch out ten minutes at a time.

I never recieved any clear direction about anything. I did start to become very aware of my own sin and lack of ability to focus on God. I was embarressed and frustrated. I can watch a movie, read a book, and watch a game for hours but I couldn't spend ten unadulterated minutes with God? What was wrong with me?

The first clear message I got from God was to get on my knees.

Literally.

I had been in a chair, reclined, with my eyes shut. I know, that was dumb.

The act of getting onto my knees in this physically uncomfortable position kept me more alert. More than that though was the mental and emotional feelings of being face down before my God.

The first time I did that I went for almost 45 minutes straight!

Over the next couple months I started to build this into my life more regularly. Sometimes it was ten minutes sometimes an hour. Often times I never felt anything specific but always felt at peace.

I'm still a greenhorn at this discipline. I'm raw and unskilled and inconsistent. Even then, it's begun to change my life and how I live it. When you take the time to listen to what God is telling you, you start changing your thought process from what I want to what God wants. My thoughts become molded to His thoughts.

As I write this, I'm in Wyoming about to head out on a five day pack trip this morning. I'll be riding in God's country with a few friends, some horses, and Wyoming mountains. This is something I've been looking forward to, but now I feel like I have a purpose for it as well.

You see, I don't hear too well. The chemo has affected my ears and "what" is one of my favorite words now. I feel like I have a lot of decisions, pathways, and unknowns ahead of me and I need to be ready when the time comes to make them. I don't hear to well, so the best thing I could think of was to get closer to the source.

As God is in heaven, I had to get up in the mountains to hear him better. So I am asking for your prayer on a couple fronts.

Please pray that I would be physically able to endure the trip. I've felt better this cycle than any other cycle so far, but I'm definitely not 100%.

Please pray that as I spend time listening to God, so that I can hear that still small voice, I would be given direction on what God has in store for me. I am not necessarily asking Him for specifics, more a vision of how He wants to use me.

When you're done praying for me, why don't you spend a little time listening for yourself while you're at it!

What's a poor man going to give his son?

I'm a rich man, but I don't have much. When I think about my Legacy for Colton I often think about the things I might leave him someday. I have a few special things.

1. My baseball glove - I have both my little league and my high school gloves. He already has his own but maybe he'll want his dad's too!

2. My saddle - I have a custom made saddle that was form fitted to my backside. Assuming he gets my rear end and not Kendra's he'll have one nice saddle that was hand made for his daddy. 

3. Winchester Model 94 lever action rifle - It was a gift from my uncle, and this trusty old .30-.30 is a lot of fun.

Each one of these things could tell part of the story of who I am. I loved sports, but baseball held a unique place in my heart as my dad was a pitcher in college. My first saddle, like the rifle was a gift from my uncle who cowboy'd out west like I did and helped cement my passion for horses and cowboys. All of these items are tied to my past and my family. They're part of my heritage. As much of the gift is the story that goes with it. 

None of it however tells my entire story. I have thought long and hard about what is the one thing I could give Colton that tells him my story? 

I'm still searching. No one object completely wraps me up. Yes I'm a little weird, but surely something can represent me after I'm gone.

The problem is the things I can give him, and the legacy I want to leave him aren't the same thing. Yes I want Colton to know me and who I am, but more than that I want him to know my God. 

To be known by my God! 

As Kendra and I attended family camp at Miracle Mountain Ranch last week, the speaker was challenging the families about leaving a legacy. One practice this man has is he reads through the Bible once a year. Every year he changes to a brand new Bible and gives the old one to a grandchild. This hit home with me as I stared down at my Bible. 

Back home I had left the worn out, falling apart, tattered brown Bible I'd been given. It was the same sword my grandfather wielded for many years as he labored and fought to save kids and families through the camp and treatment center he and my grandmother founded. It has decades of notes, underlines, scribbles, and prayers. As I read my grandfathers bible I encounter the same God he encountered so many years ago when he first opened this book. More than that I get to see how it impacted my gramps. 

The power of this book in his life is so evident that it jumps off the pages. I can hear his voice as I read his thoughts and it's almost like sitting there studying with him!

This book is so important to me, I hand copied every line, note, jot, tiddle, and scratch to "my bible". It too is worn and showing its mileage. It's a blend of all my grandfather's thoughts and mine added into it as well. It encompasses my heritage, my faith, and my personality. 

It still doesn't tell Colton about every passion, hobby, or experience I've ever had. The thing is, my prayer is that I become less, and God would become more. 

I probably can't leave him an inheritance, a business, or a boat. I can leave him the one thing he'll need to face every situation he'll ever encounter. I can leave him a bridge to his father, his great-grandfather, and his heavenly father. I can give him something that inspires, educates, matures, and protects him. 

I will give him the most valuable thing I have... my Bible.

The story of the slowest mad dash to Zion, ever.

Hi friends,

I realize that some of you are pretty sketchy on details of what went down with Ryan yesterday.  Of course, most of you know that we got amazing news this week about his cancer.  What you may NOT know is that we also met Chris Tomlin this past Thursday after his Unity Fest concer, which was super exciting!  I'm planning on writing a post about that soon. (I was going to write it yesterday afternoon, but yesterday fell apart...more about that right now.)

So after a phenomenal week, Friday morning started out kind of sluggish.  Because Ryan and I were out whooping it up late Thursday night (my parents watched Colton that night, so we were certainly footloose and fancy free!), I slept in kind of late.  Ryan woke me up around 9 a.m. to tell me that he had not slept well the night before and felt like he was coming down with some sort of cold or something. I got up and made him breakfast and sent him to work late with a mug of green tea and a kiss on the cheek.  I was mildly concerned because he was developing a "cold" and had had such low white blood cell counts this week, but didn't think much of it.

I went and retrieved Colton from my parents and went to a farmers market to get vegetables for a soup that I was planning on making Friday evening.  As I was chopping veggies and Colton was busy making total chaos of the house with his toys, Ryan texted me and asked him to come get him.  I texted back that I would come get him as soon as I got the soup going, which would only take a few more minutes.  Five minutes later, he called me and asked me again to come get him.  I told him, "Sure.  You just texted me a few minutes ago, though.  I was already planning to come."  He told me that he had no recollection of texting me and that he had just thrown up.  So I dropped the veggies, grabbed rain boots as it was super soggy outside, and Colton and I loaded up quickly. 

On my way to get Ryan, he called me two more times (it's not THAT far of a distance).  Each time he sounded more and more distant and "out of it".  I was beginning to get really scared because he wasn't acting completely conscious and he was talking very strangely.  When I arrived at Grace to pick him up, I found him laying down on the couch at his parents' house next door to camp, with his summer media specialist Brian sitting by him.  Brian told me that he had been in a meeting with Ryan when Ry suddenly started to act...not lucid.  Ryan abruptly got up and left the room, and Brian heard him throw up and try calling me from the bathroom.  Brian, if you're reading this, know that I'm really thankful for the way that you took care of him and didn't leave his side while I was coming to get him!  You are a gem. (Even if you DO go to U of M.) ;)

Ryan's dad arrived at his house and we decided that Ryan should get to an ER ASAP.  We decided that I would take Ryan to the ER and Steve would stay with Colton for the afternoon.  So I loaded up my groggy husband and we took off for Muskegon.  Mercy Hospital's ER turned out to be an exercise of patience, futility, and frustration.  Essentially, we were there for four hours, Ryan did not get any fluids or meds, and he started to get belligerent when I tried to give him gentle suggestions.  This belligerent side of Ryan is NOT something that I've ever seen before.  Plus, he started to get some seriously strange GI symptoms.  Muskegon and CTCA corresponded on the phone and it was decided that Ryan needed to get to Zion that day.  Unfortunately, we could not go by ambulance (still trying to figure that one out), so we went in Steve's car.

This is when things got really dicey.  Ryan was still fairly disoriented, and was asking Steve and I the same 10 questions every five minutes: he inquired about his horses, our dog, our son, his brothers, he asked if Brian the media specialist was okay, he had no recollection of anything that had happened to him that week, and he wanted to stop and use the restroom every fifteen minutes.  We made three stops between Muskegon and the Michigan/Indiana border.  Then, as we crossed into Indiana, Steve's car started to act weird.  We pulled off at a gas station in Lake Station, Indiana and decided that it was not wise to risk going any further.  After checking several nearby car rental agencies and discovering that no one in northern Indiana rents a car past 6 pm, we called Ryan's younger brother Corey who goes to school in Deerfield, Illinois to come get us (this was an hour and a half from where we were).  As we were waiting, Ryan's demeanor started to return to normal and he was starting to feel better.  We were relieved that his symptoms were not nearly as intense, as waiting was hard enough on us already.

Finally, Corey arrived and took us the rest of the way to Zion.  We FINALLY arrived around 11 pm Central time and he was processed and admitted within the hour.  All in all, the mad dash to Zion took seven and a half hours.  Steve got a hotel room across the street and I stayed in the room with Ryan.  When we woke up this morning, Ryan was definitely beginning to recall some things that happened this week (he remembered the previous trip to Zion, and the Chris Tomlin concert), but he remembered almost nothing from Friday.

So far, he has had an Xray, a CAT scan, an MRI, blood cultures, urine samples, and several physical exams.  The doctors have ruled out high ammonia levels, there is no metastasis of any kind on his brain, his white blood cell count is normal, but his platelets are low and they won't entirely rule out some sort of infection until the cultures come back.  We thought that we would probably go home tomorrow (Sunday), but the on call doctor told me that she doesn't think that we will probably go home until Monday at the earliest, when Ryan's primary oncologist can visit him and evaluate him.  If Ryan does have some sort of infection, we might have to rule out treatment this week AGAIN.

Sooo...that is the long story of what has transpired.  We are doing okay.  My heart was in my throat the entire afternoon and evening yesterday when I had no idea what was wrong with my husband and he was acting so unlike himself, but today it is reassuring to see him at his normal self, eating food, being a polite, sweet man again, and able to recall things that have happened.  His GI symptoms are lessening, too, so that is an excellent sign.

We covet your prayers for wisdom for the doctors, peace as we continue to try to get answers about what's happening, for grace and strength to get through these long days of waiting and cooling our heels, for continued healing...and for this mama's heart as she so sorely misses her little boy.  I have only seen Colton for about an hour in the last forty-eight, and likely will not see him again for at least forty-eight more. :(

We will continue to update Facebook and our blog...especially now that I know where they hide the computer lab in this huge hospital. ;)

-kp

Exodus 14:14 "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still."

Update!

Brief update as Ryan is getting a few things done to him by his nurse...

1.) We met with the doctor this afternoon.  He is pumped and thinks that Ryan's prognosis is just amazing and miraculous!  The fact that it is out of the lymph nodes is really, really encouraging.  He said that we're starting to enter into "uncharted waters" because there are so few Stage IV cholangiocarcinoma patients that reach this point.

2.) For the time being, we are going to do four more cycles of 5FU/Erbitux before we do more scans - this will make the next scans sometime around mid to late October.  He might be restaged at the next scans.

3.) Around the bend: pending the results of the NEXT scans, we are going to look at possibly meeting with a surgeon (!!!!) to get the rest of the tumors OUTTA there.  <--- That means REMISSION, folks!

4.) Unfortunately, Ryan's counts are so low that we are not able to do treatment this week.  He is going to get 3 neupogen shots this week and we'll try again next week - yes, that means another trip to Chicago. :(