Grief is in the small things.

Hello friends and family,

I know that it's been a long time since I last wrote.  I hardly seem to have words to say to explain what I'm feeling these days.  It's so dichotomous - though my world is rife with pain and grief, yet I am also sustained by that unimaginable peace that comes only through a tight tether with the Holy Spirit.  I have truly been blessed for the last several weeks by His grace and His comfort.

I've been through a few of those "firsts" that are notoriously difficult in the first year after loss.

The first birthday party (for Colton):

First major family event that Ryan had expressed he had really wanted to be at (Corey's graduation):

First Mother's Day (which Ryan had done an excellent job celebrating with me for three years prior):

Mother's Day at Comerica: WIN!

First wedding anniversary without him - May 13.

Somehow, the "firsts" have not been as bad as I worked them up to be.  Maybe the first Christmas is where all of the anxiety and sadness is going to hit me like a freight train, but I've been okay so far through these "firsts".

It's the small things that have been getting me:

• The silence
• His handwriting
• Seeing an article of his clothing
• Catching a whiff of his brand of cologne somewhere
• Disconnecting his phone
• Hearing a song that reminds me of him
• Checking the "Single" box on a piece of paperwork
• Seeing his traits in his son
• Seeing a TV show that we watched together
• Seeing his horse
• Seeing any horse

I lived with Ryan 365 days a year.  Only 10-15 of the days in any given year are holidays or special days that we celebrated together.  So the other 340 days of the year is where it feels like we really did true life together.  The laughing, loving, arguing, negotiating, encouraging, bantering, and just living - we did that all together and that's the part that I miss the most.  As I write this, it's Saturday morning and I am waiting for Colton to wake up.  If Ryan were still here, he would be awake and we would be probably a quarter of the way through a pot of coffee and watching SportsCenter, our Saturday morning routine.  I miss having the need to make an entire pot of coffee on a Saturday.  I miss the SportsCenter theme song.

I just miss Ryan.  And all of the sights, sounds, activities, hugs, phone calls, letters, and everything else that accompanied him.

And yet - however wrenching the pain is, my God is greater.  I know, without any doubt, that His grace will be sufficient for today, even without a pot of coffee and SportsCenter - and my best friend.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort; who comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Oh Lord, please heal my broken heart and help lessen the pain.  I know that somehow Ryan's death was somehow meant for my good and not for my harm.  May I and my family continue to glorify you even through tears.  I trust you implicitly and I love you desperately.

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.

Trust, Obey, Be Joyful.

Another season has arrived since Ryan's diagnosis.

Green leaves, red leaves, no leaves, little leaves, green leaves, red leaves, and now no leaves again.

And here I am, still learning the same lessons over and over again.  I think that I am probably causing my Heavenly Father to facepalm several times a month - "Will this girl ever learn?"

And the answer is, no, probably not.  Even though we (Christians) continue to grow and stretch and become mature in our faith and more Christlike, I think we all have moments where we backslide or forget who is boss.  At least, I hope other people experience moments like that - anyone?  Anyone?

It seems like lately, the Lord has breathed three words into my ear.

"Kendra, my dear daughter...TRUST.  OBEY.  JOY."

And I'd like to tell you more about what I'm learning from Him.

Trust

Essentially, our relationship with our Lord boils down to a trust issue.  When we first become a Christian (side note: that was exactly 12 years ago today for me!  Happy anniversary, Jesus.  I love you), we trusted our hearts and our souls to Him.  And from that moment on, the trajectory of our relationship with God is directly proportional to our level of trust in Him.  After all, how can you have a relationship with someone that you cannot trust?

God's sovereign will is often in conflict with our human selfishness.  Anytime that He has other plans for us that would not be our choice, we are faced with the choice of whether to trust Him or to try to wrest back some semblance of control and live selfishly.  But until we take the plunge and simply make the choice (because that's all it is - a choice) to trust Him, our relationship will be stagnant and our attempts to mature in our faith will shortcircuit.  In no way can we be content in our circumstances until we simply trust.  And then choose to trust again.  And keep trusting.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3: 3-5

Obey

Out of the decision to trust, we are called to obey.  When I read the Bible, I don't see that the faith of the saints was one of passivity, but rather one where they almost constantly pursued advancing the kingdom of God.  I don't think that God intended for us to rest back on our laurels and enjoy the comforts of eternal security.  Personally, I think that comfort is a dangerous, dangerous place for us to be.  Comfort breeds complacency.  And complacency lets us believe the lie that we are only called to faith - but recall that faith without works is dead.

As Ryan and I have attempted to learn what it means to live in radical obedience, we've been pretty shocked at some of the stuff that He has suggested we do.  Sometimes it has been stuff that I haven't personally liked or agreed with or understood.  However, that is another exercise to trust.  Trust and obedience are intricately intertwined, and we cannot do one without the other.

Joy

Even though I don't like what God has placed in my life, even though He has asked me to do some tough stuff that I didn't want to do, I still have had to learn to live my life with joy in spite of that.  Consider that Paul tells us:

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing. James 1: 2-4

I have learned that joy is not an emotion and not akin to happiness.  Joy is a lifestyle.  Joy is being thankful for what we have, and it is a submission to the Lord's will.  It is an acknowledgement that despite pain sometimes entering our lives, despite disagreeing with the nature of the task at hand, that God's plan for our lives is always good and always best.  When I choose to live my life with joy, my attitude is one of thankfulness and peace, not bitterness and discontent.


It is a far cry from being able to write a blog about the three themes in my life, and actually living them.  Every moment that I think I've arrived, the Holy Spirit seems to shine a giant spotlight on another area of my life that needs polishing and cleaning up.  I am a total work in progress, but grateful that the Lord considers me an object worthy of his cleaning rags.

Sesame Street wisdom?

I admit that I'm not opposed to my toddler watching a bit of TV every now and then.


Okay, maybe almost every day.


You see, since summer vacation started, Colton and I have started a new rhythm. We generally wake up between 8 and 9, get breakfast together, I make coffee, and then we snuggle up on the couch to watch a recorded episode of "Sesame Street" together. Generally we do not watch the entire episode. After all, if it's a segment of the show that does not have Elmo in it, Colton isn't interested. Generally we will watch the opening segment if Elmo is in it, but we usually fast forward through "Abby's Flying Fairy School" and Bert and Ernie's segment. No Elmo = No Dice.


However, we regularly watch "Elmo's World" together. It's so pathetic that I can sing all of the words to the intro, "Elmo's Song", "Elmo's Ducks", and "I'm Elmo and I Know It". Colton just loves that little red monster. I don't get it, but at least he isn't into Spongebob. As a matter of fact, one of my goals as a mother is to make sure that my son does not even know who Spongebob is.


Anyway, I digress. I love this time with my son, watching the high-pitched red monster and his goldfish Dorothy on the screen. I get to smell my boy's hair as he sits on my lap, sip coffee, and point out the shapes, numbers, colors, and objects on the screen. If my son is going to watch any TV at all, it's going to be interactive - NOT a babysitter. If you're not familiar with "Elmo's World", it is based around the premise that Dorothy and Elmo want to find out more about a particular subject - how to get dressed, how to take care of pets, what are fish like, how to play drums, etc. One of the first things that they will do is consult their friend Mr. Noodle, who lives behind a curtain in Elmo's World.

Mr. Noodle, Elmo's friend and consultant

I cringe every time Mr. Noodle comes on the screen. Mr. Noodle is kind of a dunce. Okay, not kind of. He's a MAJOR dunce. If Elmo asks Mr. Noodle how to walk like a monkey, Mr. Noodle will misunderstand him and try to walk like a chicken.  It's just ridiculous.  I'm sure that preschoolers love it, as Mr. Noodle is definitely very silly.  Eventually the off-screen voices of four-year-olds teach Mr. Noodle how to do the correct action, and all is well.  Colton thinks that Mr. Noodle is very funny.

Now, I'm not knocking on Mr. Noodle.  He serves his purpose in teaching preschoolers about the right way and wrong way to do a particular action.  I just think that Elmo and Dorothy should have learned by now that Mr. Elmo is probably not the best person to consult when they have serious questions such as how to tie shoelaces.  This is crucial business, people.  Get a clue! :)

But you see, I'm not so different from Elmo and Dorothy, as I am not always known for seeking the wisest of counsel when I am faced with a problem.

Proverbs 3: 1-8

New International Version (NIV)

1 My son, do not forget my teaching, 

    but keep my commands in your heart,

2 for they will prolong your life many years 

    and bring you peace and prosperity.

3 Let love and faithfulness never leave you;

    bind them around your neck,

    write them on the tablet of your heart. 

4 Then you will win favor and a good name

    in the sight of God and man.

5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart

    and lean not on your own understanding;

6 in all your ways submit to him,

    and he will make your paths straight.

7 Do not be wise in your own eyes; 

    fear the Lord and shun evil. 

8 This will bring health to your body 

    and nourishment to your bones.

James 1:1-8

New International Version (NIV)

1 James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ,

To the twelve tribes scattered among the nations:

Greetings.

2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.

Have you ever had a problem that you tried to fix on your own?  I think we all have been guilty of this at some point.  My husband says that I am possibly the most fiercely independent person that he's ever met, with a thick skull to boot.  I regularly reject wisdom and guidance from people that are probably a lot more attuned to God's wisdom than I am because I am very wise in my own eyes.  I regularly reject the notion of asking for God to give me wisdom and guidance because I have it all under control (ha, ha, ha).  I would rather rely on the opinions of the Mr. Noodles of this world sometimes than God's wisdom and am often guilty of running to my own wisdom or Mr. Noodle's wisdom first (figuratively, not literally).

Did you notice what God's word says about asking for wisdom or relying on the Lord's understanding?

• "This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones."
• "...when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind."

I have had many valleys and mountaintops during my Christian walk, and the valleys have gotten deeper and the mountaintops have become higher since Ryan was diagnosed with cancer.  As I look back on the eleven and a half years that I have been walking with Christ (or periodically running away from Him, too), I can unequivocally ascertain that the mountaintops have been when I was not wise in my own eyes, but humble and broken before the Lord, not doubting a word He says.  The valleys have been their deepest when I have been trying far too hard to keep control over a situation, and shunned God's wisdom.  Trust me, the mountaintops are much better.  I understand what King Solomon means when he says it brings health to our bodies, to lean on God's understanding.  When I'm truly walking in tandem with the Lord, I literally feel better - God's grace washing over me has an emotional and physiological effect on my well-being.  I am more peaceful.  I sleep better.  I have better relationships with the others around me.

What would it look like if we, as the collective body of Christ, had a renewal of our desire to seek the Lord above all else?  What would it look like if we shunned the wisdom of Mr. Noodle, or the wisdom of our own selves?

My igloo

A storm is swirling around me.

I don't know what the storm is bringing.  High winds?  Lightning?  Hail?  Snow?  I'm not sure.  I can't see a weather forecast, so I'm clueless.

All that I know is that the storm is going to be hellish.  Painful.  Scary.  I have to protect myself from the storm somehow.  What should I do?

There are a couple of ways that I could go about this.  I could stay outside and chance being struck down or injured.  If I stay outside and pay attention to what's going on, I will feel the storm.  I will feel the full brunt of the rain.  I will sway on my feet as the winds scream about me and threaten to knock me down.  On the other hand, I might catch a glimpse of a beautiful rainbow when the storm is done, or appreciate the way the thick clouds swirl around me, appreciating the beauty in the midst of the pain.

But that's not what I've chosen to do.

I've chosen to build an igloo to hide in.

Slowly but surely, I have gathered large ice bricks.  Clink, clink, clink.  I laid the foundation of ice carefully, ensuring that no strong breeze would knock over my igloo.  I sealed the entire igloo, so that no rain or wind can come inside.  The ice is thick.  It is cold.  It is protective.  The ice is so thick that when I sit inside of my igloo, I cannot hardly see or hear the storm.  I also cannot see those beautiful, dark clouds that display incredible power, nor can I see even the most brilliant of rainbows.  It is dark in here.  It is blank, all-encompassing darkness.

Inside my igloo, it is quiet.  It is so cold, though.  I have gone numb inside of my igloo.  Long ago I stopped shivering.  I just wait inside of my igloo with my eyes shut, ignoring the faint sounds of wind as the storm approaches.  Wait.

When will the storm end?

I have no idea.  It shows no signs of letting up.  The rain and snow and sleet are coming down in wide sheets, pelting the ice barrier around me.

But I'm beginning to have second thoughts about this igloo.

Yes, it has protected me so well.  But what am I missing outside?  How have these thick ice bricks blinded me?

What joys of the storm have passed me by while I sit inside my protective ice shell?

What joy have I missed that the Lord has gifted me, while I've numbed myself to the pain?

Lord, give me the courage to step outside.  Give me the courage to break down these walls of ice that I have so carefully constructed.  Allow me to dance in the rain while the lightning strikes around me, trusting that even in the midst of shrieking wind and punishing hail, that Your protective hand is around me.  I want to experience the joy around me, and even catch sight of that most beautiful promise, that exquisite rainbow, a promise of peace and provision.

On horses and blind faith

Every once in a while, I become a horse racing enthusiast.

Since 2003, when a pretty gelding named Funny Cide captured the heart and imagination of America as he made a run for the Triple Crown, I have halfway followed the sport of horse racing.  Really, I only follow it for the major races: all of the jewels of the Triple Crown, the Santa Anita, the Breeders Cup races, and the Kentucky Oaks.  This year might prove to be the first time since 1978 that a horse will win the Triple Crown, as I'll Have Another has already captured the first two races (the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes).  [Edit: while this blog was in draft status, I'll Have Another scratched from the Belmont due to tendonitis, and then promptly retired from his race career.  Such a shame that an injury has made it impossible for him to be able to continue his career, but I am glad that the horse's health is of paramount importance.]

David J. Phillip/Associated Press

So this week, I'm going to be thinking a lot about horses.  Hopefully that will remind me to catch my own horse and grain him more often, but we will see how that goes. :)

Horses are a funny animal that I struggle to embrace with open arms, even though by marriage to my husband I find myself the owner of three equids.  I would probably feel more confident around horses if HORSES were more confident.  They are fidgety prey animals, prone to spooking at the slightest of provocations.  If they were the size of a domestic cat, this would not be a problem, but horses typically weigh over a thousand pounds.  Not our miniature horse, though.  He is only a couple hundred pounds.

This extreme anxiety in horses can render them useless or dangerous in some situations.

There is a scene in my favorite movie, "Gone with the Wind", where Scarlett and Rhett are attempting to flee Atlanta as the city burns.  Sherman's army is approaching, and the Confederate army is burning the depot and their military supplies so that the Union army does not benefit from the use of their items.  As Scarlett and Rhett try to maneuver their horse and cart past a burning three-story building, the horse balks at the fire in front of and around him.  Try as he might, Rhett cannot convince the horse to budge, so Scarlett tosses him a garment for Rhett to wrap around the horse's face.  Once the horse cannot see any danger around him, he moves forward and Rhett and Scarlett successfully escape the charred city.

For all of our talk about how living in high definition has been the ticket for us to walk this cancer journey well, it has recently struck me that living by blind faith has been just as equally important as we attempt to maneuver our way through a figurative fire.

You see, when Ryan was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer, I felt like I had been punched repeatedly in the gut, struggling for breath and composure.  Life was a pane of glass that had just been shattered into a million pieces, and I struggled for months trying to glue the little shards back together.  As I frantically tried to figure out what my husband's cancer diagnosis meant for my family and I, I came to a point where I realized that I could not move forward and be an effective vessel for the Lord, an effective caretaker for my husband, and be a good mama to my son unless I learned to place my trust in the Lord for what my future was going to hold.  In other words, until I decided to strap on blinders and trust my Jockey to steer me safely to the finish line, I was not going to finish this race well.  In case the word "blinders" is not in your vocabulary, it is a piece of tack that is often used in racing and driving disciplines because some trainers feel that it helps keep the horse focused on what is directly in front of him instead of the distractions around him.

Hebrews 11:1 Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we don't see.


I do not understand fully why God has placed us on this journey.  At times I see glimpses of the purposes that He has for us in the midst of this, but I do not get the whole picture.  Thankfully, that's not my job.  I am only to concern myself with my faith in God.  Hebrews 11 lists a lot of things that the giants of the Bible did because of their faith.  Then it continues as such...

13 All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. 14 People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15 If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.
...
39 These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, 40 since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Read the rest of Hebrews 11.  We are talking about people that have literally wandered the desert for years upon years, people who have taken gutsy risks, people who have endured unimaginable hardships, and waited years upon years to see their heirs materialize.  Not by choice, we have been placed on a difficult journey with seemingly insurmountable odds against us.  Our walls of Jericho are seriously tall.  And we may both die without completely understanding why God has thrown us this curveball.  Maybe Ryan will be healed, maybe he won't.  But just as a horse could easily be distracted by the perils and problems around him, so could we also fall prey to the tempting idea of self-pity and fear.

There is another choice, though, one that I'm thankful we have both resolved to make.  To live by blind faith is both a difficult and yet a very simple choice.  It is difficult because it requires us to lay down our very lives before the Lord and say, "Do what you will."  That is far easier to type than it is to actually do.  But truthfully, the actual process is simple.  Trust.  Trust.  Trust even when it makes no sense.  Strap on a set of blinders and quit looking around you at all of the potential danger.  Trust God even when your life is threatened.  Trust God even when you're seething with anger against Him.  Trust Him even when life is easy and it's so easy to drift away from His control and you don't "need" Him.  As a horse has to trust his master that he means him no harm, so we must trust that our God's plans for our lives really are intended for our spiritual prosperity.  Trust, trust, trust.

Proverbs 3

5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart

    and lean not on your own understanding;

6 in all your ways submit to him,

    and he will make your paths straight.

7 Do not be wise in your own eyes; 

    fear the Lord and shun evil. 

8 This will bring health to your body 

    and nourishment to your bones.

So how does a horse make the decision to trust when there is a fire raging around him, or twenty other horses are jockeying for position around him?  And how do we trust God when life circumstances seem so daunting?

First, the horse leans not on his own understanding.  In all his ways, he submits to his master.

Throw something over a horse's eyes and ironically, instead of being fearful of not being able to see, he relaxes.  Instead of relying on his own poor eyesight to guide his steps, he relies upon the skillful, watchful hand of his loving master.  So also should we submit to the will of God in our lives, as His ways are truly higher than ours, but also have the promise that He works all things out to the good of those that love Him.

And secondly, we have to retool our thinking.  I think that if I were a horse, I would be a bucking horse.  I'm the type of person that bucks when a difficult situation crops up.  That is because I often forget this concept:  Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1: 2-4)  A wise person does not see problems, but only opportunities.  Trials are opportunities for us to mature in our faith, to encourage people in similar situations, and to demonstrate the work that God has done for us thus far.  God has done so much in my own heart in the last fifteen months that I can hardly remain bitter for this fork in the road.

What is holding you back from trusting in God?  Are you too distracted by the problems you face?  I would encourage you to embrace both concepts of Living in High Definition (knowing what truly matters in life and living life to honor God) and Living by Blind Faith (trusting God no matter what the possible outcome).  You will find your life richer for having placed blinders over your eyes and your reins in His hands!

A thought for this painful week.

This week I have doubted God.

In a weak moment, I lashed out at him in anger on behalf of a friend who is dealing with way more sorrow than I can even comprehend. I doubted His goodness. I doubted His plan for her. I doubted whether He even really listens to us when we cry out to Him, as it seems as if He already has His plans made out for our lives, like it or not.

But then I stumbled across this passage:

I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands,
and I would not be comforted. I remembered you, God, and I groaned;
I meditated, and my spirit grew faint. You kept my eyes from closing;
I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days,
the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night.
My heart meditated and my spirit asked: "Will the Lord reject forever?
Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
Has his promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful?
Has he in anger withheld his compassion?" Then I thought, "To this I will appeal:
the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works
and meditate on all your mighty deeds." Your ways, God, are holy.
What god is as great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the peoples. (Psalm 77:1-14 NIV)

How quickly I can forget the awesome wonders my God has done for me, for us, and for generations before us. He has called us out of darkness and placed us under His tender care. He has provided for us, and will not stop doing so. My God is the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph...a God who has shown mercy and miracles in countless stories across the course of time. Who am I to doubt the goodness of a God who even cares for the well-being of a sparrow?

This next part of our journey will bring tears, sorrow, and pain as we struggle to comprehend the question "Why?". But I know at the end of the day, we believers have eternal security in the palm of a loving Father. And that, my friends, is a beautiful place to be.

How do you pray for the Lord's will to be done...and really mean it?

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the blessing of another day with my wonderful family.  My husband and son are gifts that you have given me, and I know that they belong to you along with everything I own.  Lord, I pray that your will would be done in our lives.  But while you're at it, can you double-check that your will includes healing my husband?  Thanks.

Okay, I have never said that verbatim.

But that's honestly what runs through my head sometimes.

And it's insincere.  My lips say "Lord, may your will be done", but my heart fears that He may actually do His will and I won't like the end result.

Even though I have made the choice (over and over again) that no matter how this situation ends, I will trust God to do His perfect will in my life, I still find myself all the time questioning whether or not Ryan dying could really be the best possible outcome.  Lord, healing him would bring You glory!  Think of all the years that Ryan could live, do ministry, speak truth to so many people, and show people how to have hope in their own lives!  Yeah, if cancer is anything like the grieving process (which there are some pretty huge similarities), I waffle between bargaining, acceptance, and denial several times a week.

My father-in-law is much more submitted to God's will than I am (at least so it seems!).  He constantly asks people for prayer in this situation, but he always asks "please pray that God's perfect will would be done".  Sometimes I want to interject and say, "No, Steve, ask for healing!"  I'm almost afraid that if too many people pray for God's will to be done, my husband will surely die.  It panics me. It's almost as if I have this constant struggle in my chest between knowing what I want, and knowing that this passage is truth:

⁸ “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
   neither are your ways my ways,”
            declares the LORD.
⁹ “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
   so are my ways higher than your ways
   and my thoughts than your thoughts.

                                       Isaiah 55: 8-9 (NIV)

So the thought that has crossed my mind this week (and Ryan's too) is how do we ask for the Lord's will to be done and really mean it?

Hours before Jesus was arrested, he spent time praying in the Garden of Gethsemane.  He knew, as he was both fully man and fully God, exactly what was about to happen to him.  Despite knowing the end result (i.e., resurrection and atonement for the sins of all people), Jesus was clearly not looking forward to what was about to transpire:

Matthew 26 (NIV):

³⁶ Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” ³⁷ He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. ³⁸ Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

 ³⁹ Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

So there we have it.  Even the son of God prayed for "this cup" (the crucifixion) to be taken from Him.  Of course He knew that it would transpire, and why.  After all, He was/is God: He planned this.  But for one moment, we see an example of Jesus' humanity.  And yet still in spite of the momentary glimpse of human frailty, the end of verse 39 remains: "Yet not as I will, but as you will."

Jesus trusted in the plan.  As painful as dying on the cross was going to be, He knew that the outcome would glorify God and provide redemption for the rest of us scallywags.  Here's some different about me, though: I don't know the outcome of Ryan's cancer.  I don't have the same luxury of knowing the future as my Savior did.

Regardless of not knowing, do I trust Him?

Do I trust Him, that whether my husband lives or dies, that is the best outcome for God's Kingdom?

Praying for God's will to be done is SCARY.  That completely takes the control out of our hands (ha, like we really had any to begin with) and places our future squarely in the palm of our Lord.  And I know that is the best place for me to rest, is in the care of my Lord who loves me.

So like so many other choices that I've had to make for the last ten months, I am forced to make a decision of whether or not I am going to trust God:

• to pray for His will to be done and truly mean it (trusting Him with my/our future),
• or continue to only ask selfishly for Ryan to be healed (not trusting Him entirely).

No, it is not wrong to continue to ask for healing.  But what the Lord has convicted my heart of is that when I pray, I am not fully trusting.  I don't truly mean it when I say, "Your will be done, Lord."  I have said the words, but they haven't always been sincere.

So what decision will you make when you pray for yourself or even for us?  Do you trust that God's will is perfect, or are you still focused on what you think is best?

Starbucks, Jacob, and Rachel

This afternoon around 3:15 p.m., I stopped at the Grand Haven Starbucks for the second time today and ordered another grande Blonde roast with one creamer and two Splendas.  Now, lest you think that I'm a freewheeling spender, I was gifted a Starbucks mug for Christmas (from one of my students!) that allows me to go to Starbucks the entire month of January and fill it up with brewed coffee for NOTHING.  I didn't even know that such a thing existed.  Now, since I am a quarter Dutch and it's January 30th, you'd bet your sweet bippy that I'm going to get every last drop out of that mug.  I've got quite a reputation around the GH Starbucks for being the blonde that likes Blonde roast and Splenda.  I totally get their marketing strategy though.  They sell those mugs so that people can give them as Christmas gifts, and people like me who normally brew their own coffee at home to save money get totally HOOKED on expensive coffee and become regular customers.  Yeah, I'm onto you Starbucks...and guess what, your evil scheme totally worked.

So what does this have to do with Jacob and Rachel?  Absolutely nothing, except that I'm awake at 11 p.m., no thanks to my Starbucks addiction... and I likely will be awake for quite some time...so why not blog about a topic that's in my head?

So, God taught me an important truth about attitude through the story of Jacob and Rachel as I read it recently.  While I can't relate to bigamous relationships, manual labor, or really anything about their culture, I can relate to certain parts of their story and namely, their attitudes.

Here is a link to Genesis 29, which tells their story.  As you read it, notice a couple of things.  First of all, Uncle Laban was in the sheep business.  I don't know how much you have been able to experience sheep, but my best friend growing up had sheep for a couple of years.  Sometimes I'd be at her house, and she would have to do something regarding the care of these animals and I would tag along to their pen with her.  I remember very little about sheep except that they are stupid, that they excreted really foul-smelling stuff, that they were messy and difficult, and and that hers were named Salt and Pepper.  Helping my best friend occasionally feed her sheep (or chase one if it got out of its pen) is really all I ever want to do with them.  So I find it very remarkable and frankly - depressing - that Jacob agreed to work for seven years in a disgusting job to marry the woman that he loved.  However, he put his nose the grindstone and kept a positive attitude during those seven long years (v. 20).  I like that about him.

Contrast that with the woman he married, Rachel.  As lovely as Rachel was on the outside, if you look closely at her character, she has a lot of problems.  Rachel suffered from a condition that I can relate with, the "I want what I can't have" syndrome.  The biggest object of her desire was to have a child.  It wasn't enough to be Jacob's beloved and preferred wife, but she possessed an all-consuming desire to have a child and went to great lengths to procure one.

However, even when she finally had a natural son, she wanted more.  And her greed didn't stop there. If you keep reading in Genesis, she took her father's terephim so that her husband would be the principal among Laban's male heirs.  She was continually discontent in her circumstances, always looking for the greenest grass.  Contrast that attitude with the humility that her husband showed to his deceitful uncle and to his tricky wife, and I'd say that you have a pretty huge divide in their character at this point in their lives.

Sometimes lately I have felt like Rachel.  I have to check my attitude to make sure that I'm not allowing discontent to breed itself within me, and I will tell you that it is hard.  Keeping an attitude of thankfulness is not an easy thing when I feel like my life and my dreams have been ripped away from me.  It's so easy for me to become jealous of others like Rachel was jealous of her sister Leah, and to forget the blessings that God has given me in abundance.

I think that Jacob is the one that I'd rather emulate.  He treated his difficult wife very well, which is an admirable thing in and of itself.  His attitude was good in the midst of his hard labor. Yes, he chose to endure his hard labor for Rachel's sake, and I didn't choose my situation.  But rather than complain about the sheep droppings in my life, I too could focus more on my Beloved (and I'm talking about my Heavenly father here, not just Ryan!) and minimize my self-centeredness.  My attitude in the midst of this journey is positively correlational to the amount of time I spend praying for God's will to be done in my life.  Being like Rachel and continually looking to what's around the corner or how I can squeeze out of a situation that I don't like only leads to discontent, anger, and a loathsome attitude.

So today, after I have had a really long, hard day of feeling sorry for myself, I choose to act more like Jacob and put my nose back to the grindstone.  I'm not sure how long we'll be on this journey, but no matter how long it is, my complaints and pity parties would be better left by the wayside.  After all, positive attitudes sound much more melodious than negative ones.


P.S. Shout out to my grandpa-in-law for the bippy comment!

Keep looking up!

Our son, Colton, loves bathtime.  As soon as I mention the word "tubby", he goes racing to the bathroom door.  Once inside, he cannot strip his clothes off fast enough.  It's one of his (and my) favorite times of the day.  We laugh, play, and talk.  Only I cannot understand this foreign language that Colton speaks in the bathtub sometimes.  It sounds like an Ewok.

But as happy as he looks/sounds in that clip, what you have to realize is that we haven't gotten to the hair washing part of the bathtime routine, given that his hair is still dry.  Colton despises hair washing time.  I use gentle shampoo and take the greatest pains to ensure that no water/soap get in his eyes, but he thrashes around violently and screams when his hair is getting washed, so soap inevitably ends up in his eyes.  Life is rough.

Yes, I've heard about those fancy visor things that can prevent kids from getting water in their eyes, but I flatly refuse to pay money for something like that.  So I have had to come up with a plan for him to be able to cope with this "horrible" situation in his life. Lately I've been training him to "look up!" whenever the time comes for us to wet or rinse his hair.  "COLTON!  Look up!  Keep looking up!  Honey, don't look down.  Look UP!  Look up at the ceiling!  NO!  When you look down, you get water in your face.  Baby boy, look UP!"

As you can tell by the conversation, this is a constant reminder that he needs.  Sometimes he follows my instruction clearly and he stares at the ceiling the entire time I rinse his shampoo out.  However, more times than not, he screams and drops his chin to his chest, causing the hated shampoo to flood his eyes and make his situation even worse.  It's quite a battle.  I get really wet sometimes.

And it would just be so much easier, so much less of a hassle, if he would stay focused on my instruction.  But the moment that he questions me, his loving mother, who wouldn't ever harm him or mislead him, he breaks my command and he begins to suffer.

Are you catching my drift?  I'm sure you see by now where I'm going with this.

In Psalm 105, we are exhorted (verse 4) to Look to the Lord and His strength; seek His face always.  Always does not mean that we are to praise God and follow Him only when it's convenient or easy for us, but to train ourselves to keep seeking His will even when he is leading us through the most harrowing of situations, whether it be the risk of getting shampoo in our eyes, or having the most excruciatingly painful, long, dark period of our lives.  Following the Lord's instruction in our lives is not always easy, but I can tell you that this last week, God has asked me to do some pretty humbling, difficult things. I have had to trust as I've gone out on this limb, that He would not allow me to get soap in my eyes. It has been a total blessing to do what He's asked of me.  I have been so privileged to see Him working not only in my own life, but the lives of people around me. It has given me such joy and such peace to trust, trust my God.

Once my son finally begins to trust me that I have his best interests at heart, he will begin to experience a peace about hair washing that he never thought possible.  He'll be such a happy, clean little boy.

And maybe I'll get through bathtime without having to change my shirt afterwards.

Keep looking up.  Our God's strength is unlimited, His will is perfect, and His instruction is infallible.

The scans, they are a-coming!

One week.

One week from today, Ryan will undergo PET, CT, and MRI scans in Zion.  We will get the results in approximately 184 hours (noon CST on Tuesday, Nov. 8th).  My stomach is returning to that familiar flip-flop state, where I go between taking comfort in the fact that Ryan has seemed absolutely normal and healthy lately, and fearing the worst that could happen.  It's a weird place to be, not knowing what the near future looks like.  I don't like it.  I don't even know for sure how many days to plan to be gone from school.  I'm planning for three, and hoping for only two.  If anything significant happens with Ryan's progress, then it's entirely possible that we might stay some extra time.  (Gosh, I hope not...)

I had the thought the other day on the way to work, "This really is just the beginning."  I know that things are going to get worse before they get better.  It just isn't feasible that we are going to continue to stay in this lulling, comfortable rhythm of Ryan having treatment, a short recovery time, and then two weeks of feeling completely normal.  Even if miracles come about, there would be serious, debilitating, life-altering surgery before Ryan is healed.  If the worst happens, then things would get very, very ugly.  I have had some people share with me what "the end" is like, and it makes me want to throw up and then punch a wall when I hear those stories.  I love my husband so intensely, and sometimes I go crazy with worry and sadness even when he has a bad reaction to chemo.  I can't imagine what it is like to go through what some people have already been through.  I just can't enter into that.

But I was thinking about these things, and how there are tough times ahead, and I felt overwhelming peace in spite of these scary thoughts.  I contemplated how I have been able to move from a shaking, sobbing mess in April as I sat at a friend's kitchen island and declared that I would not be able to handle getting more bad news if Mayo didn't say things that we wanted to hear, to someone that by October can think about the toughest of times while being accompanied by a peace that transcends understanding.  And it struck me.

It's as simple as making a choice that I made.

"I am going to do this well. I am going to trust."

And then you have to stick to that choice.  Sometimes you have to remind yourself of your choice 10 times a day.

I am a very emotional person by nature.  I love big, I can cry at the drop of a hat, and I have a seriously quick temper.  But somewhere along the way, emotions have been (somewhat) overruled by logic.  I learned an equation this summer, thanks to Beth Moore and beautiful, soul-penetrating Scripture.

If "x" happens, then God will still be good.  Solve for x. Answers will vary.

(That is the most helpful equation I've ever learned.  I never really had much use for math class.)

I knew last week as I was driving to work, that even if God takes us through the valley of the shadow of death, His goodness will not change.  His provision will not falter.  He will give us grace for THAT moment.  And I just knew very, very deep in my heart that no matter what happens, I was going to be okay.  Leaning on Him is what I will choose to do at that time, and therefore I. Will. Be. Okay.  This is a wonderful feeling, and unlike anything I have experienced in my life.

Lest I come across as some sort of superhero again, this is not by anything of Kendra that this assurance has come.  This is a result of the heart surgery God has performed on me for the last seven months, prayer from thousands of people, and a strength and resolve that is completely not characteristic of me - that's how I know that it's not my own power.  Additionally, this is not something that I'm even close to perfect at.  I still have my moments of weakness where my focus wanes and I panic.  But in my moments of greatest clarity, I know the truth.  And it sets me free.

Free from worry.

Free from anxiety.

Free from reliance on Kendra (who is decidedly unreliable).




One week.

Your will be done, Lord.  And help me be okay with that.

Superhero Me?

Actual picture of Kendra? 

I have one of Colton's books memorized.  Okay, actually I have several of his books memorized, but one of the ones that I have (inadvertently) committed to memory is titled "Superhero Me".

Who's a superhero?

Me, that's who!

Would you like to be a superhero too?

Then it goes on to talk about how sometimes the kid in the book is Super Rexosaur, Super Puddle Jumper, Sir Strongheart, or Astrokid (basically a rocket-propelled toddler who can fly into outer space).  Colton LOVES this book.  I think that he's going to be a superhero freak when he gets a little older.  He already has the Super Rexosaur Dinoroar down quite well, and he also is the proud new owner of a Jedi lightsaber.

In other news this week, I spent time reflecting on Paul's letter to the Ephesians, and more specifically on the fourth chapter.  Here's what it says in the middle of it:

⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

 ⁸ Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ⁹ Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
 ¹⁰ I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. ¹¹ I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. ¹² I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. ¹³ I can do all this through him who gives me strength. 

So you may be wondering about my literary leap from talking about superheroes to quoting scripture.  But here's the liaison: I used to think that Philippians 4:13 meant that I was privy to some sort of supernatural strength or wisdom because I was a follower of Christ.  I would invoke this verse before a big final exam in college: "Oh crap, I didn't study!  No worries...I can do all things through Jesus."...as if I were to switch on my high-powered Christian brain and/or Popeye strength and pwn my way through every sticky situation.  But friends, that is not actually what this verse is about.

It is about learning to be content, no matter what your circumstances.  Yes, always content, no matter how much your kids are screaming and driving you insane, how many eighth graders gave you an excuse about not doing their homework the night before, how much money you make, or even how many of your dreams have turned out to be true.

In Ephesians 4, Paul is referring to the many great trials that he had been embroiled in by this point in his ministry, and how no matter what odds were stacked against him or how much he disliked the situation he was in, that he had learned how to have peace in the midst of terror.  Happiness in the midst of sorrow.  Hope when any average person would have thrown in the towel.  Supernatural peace, not supernatural strength.  In our moments of weakness is when Christ's strength is most evident in us:  “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor. 12:9)

This is actually a relief to me.  I don't have any right to have an "S" painted on my chest, and I certainly did not find that Philippians 4:13 was any kind of help when I needed an extra dose of knowledge about 17th century French literature.  At this point in my life, I'm just glad that I am not called to be Wonder Woman...and that my command is to trust my God and rely on Him and trust Him instead of myself.

Trust (or a lack thereof)

This past weekend Ryan and I got into an argument.

I know.  You're shocked.

Either you sensed my sarcasm in that last line because you know Ryan and I well enough, or maybe I might have actually surprised you.  You see, just because we are now living life in high definition, does NOT mean that we are perfect or that we have learned all of our lessons.  We didn't fight for about a month and a half after diagnosis, but different situations (including going back to work, adjusting to new rhythms in life, figuring out how to divvy up household responsibilities now, and just the plain stress of cancer life) can really make us edgy.

So here's what it was about.  Basically, Ryan wanted to go for a horseback ride with Colton and I.  That sounds innocuous enough, but it made this mother's blood run cold.  HORSES?!  Those wild beasts.  What if the horse bucked?  What if Colton was thrown from Ryan's arms and he drowned in a pond?  What if a deer jumped out and Colton and Ryan were thrown off from a rearing horse and Ryan broke his back and Colton broke a bone too?  What if Colton got too cold?  What if he cried?  What if the Abominable Snowman, the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot all converged on our hapless little riding party and the Snowman ate Ryan, Nessy ate Colton, and Bigfoot ran away with me and forced me to marry him?  What if?  What if?  What if?

Now that you've seen the crazy side of me for a second, let's go back to reality.  Ryan was asking to go on a horseback ride with two completely trained, well-broke camp horses from Grace Adventures that routinely carry tiny children around with no incidents.  In all reality, there was about zero reason to worry.  He had the situation handled.  But I lacked trust in my husband, whom I know and love with all of my heart.  In my head, I know that he always has my son's best interests at heart.  But for a minute, I doubted.  And HOO BOY, it created an argument. :)

I know that I've written on this before, but I have had to work on overcoming worry and fear almost every day.  This is something that is on my heart constantly.  I also know for a fact that I have some friends that struggle with worrying even worse than I do, and I'm ninety-nine percent certain that they read this blog.

"Worry is the result of a lack of trust in God's care and providence."  This quote, just read recently, really sums up the lesson I've been learning.  My worrying about our future is directly related to the amount of control that I'm trying to wield over the situation and my lack of faith in God's care of my family.

None of us have the assurance that our lives are going to be easy.  I see lots of my friends around me with stable, comfortable lives and I wish two things for them: #1, that they thank God for that blessing, and #2, that they practice living out their trust in God in the midst of a lulling peace.  Nobody knows when their lives will be flipped upside down, when God is going to call them on a horseback ride through a dark, scary forest.  When God calls your family into danger, are you going to trust that He really does desire for you to live lives of peace?  Jeremiah 29:11 does not promise us that our earthly lives will be devoid of problems.  But it does give us assurance that there is a future of hope, even though the current situation sucks.  The Israelites were being called to wait, and to have faith that at the end of their captivity, there would still be a blessing.  Even if they (I) lose everything, God will still be God and He will still be good.

Beth Moore's Esther study summed it up like this: "If _________ happens, God will still be faithful."  You can fill in the blank with any of your worst nightmares.

I would like to happily report that we went on a great horseback ride and we had a fabulous time.  Ryan was right.  Things were just fine.  I'm so glad that we didn't miss the blessing of a great afternoon because I was too scared to allow us to enjoy it.

Live in the moment and do not worry for tomorrow.  Count your blessings.  They are so numerous, my friends.  We are so blessed.  We are so blessed.