What’s Your Pleasure?

 

I will praise the LORD with my whole heart,

In the assembly of the upright and in the congregation.

The works of the LORD are great,

Studied by all who have pleasure in them.

Psalm 111: 1-2

In what do you find pleasure? What makes you happy? What makes you feel joyful and free? Is it finding extra money in your bank account? A lower number than you expected on the scale? Perhaps it’s the weekend that makes you feel happy, or praise from your boss after an especially difficult project. These things are all good, and there’s nothing wrong with feeling happy about them. But today, I’d like to suggest a different approach to finding happiness, and it comes from these two little verses in Psalm 111.

These verses caught my eye in my quiet time this morning, because of that last line: “Studied by all who have pleasure in them.” Having done my time in school, I can’t really say that I’ve used the words, studied and pleasure in the same sentence too many times! I do appreciate studying because I like to learn new things, but pleasure to me is more indicative of recreation or relaxation, not the diligent work of learning that studying is.

Yet, the Lord says that those of who take pleasure in His works will study them. So, what are the works of the Lord? Well, this word is repeated a number of times in the Psalm. In verse three, we learn that his works are honorable and glorious. Verse four says they are to be remembered. Verse six tells us that the power of His works has been declared to His people.

But the really important clue about God’s works comes in verses seven through nine:

The works of His hands are verity and justice;

All His precepts are sure.

They stand fast forever and ever,

And are done in truth and uprightness.

He has sent redemption to His people;

He has commanded His covenant forever:

Holy and awesome is His name.

Truth and justice are God’s works! Think about that. In light of all the “fake news,” lies of our culture and the enemy, and even our own self-deception, God’s works are always true, and His precepts (or commandments) are always sure.  For all eternity, they will never fail, and they will never change. They will never be unfair, or partial to a particular people group. Always upright and true, God will remain absolutely unaltered and unquestionably pure and perfect.

I’d like to encourage you today to take some time to dwell on this truth. Truly take pleasure in the study of God’s unchanging perfection. In the midst of struggles with your bank account and the scale, your difficulties at work, or your dread of another Monday, take a moment just to think about God’s unchanging nature. He is always right, always true, always just. He will never change, even as your account balance, your job, and the seasons of your life surely will. These truths will bring you to that place of pleasure that I described in the beginning of this article. I can relax because I know that my sovereign, unchanging God, who redeemed His people (including me), will never change, will always do what is right, and will always be holy and awesome. Praise Him with your whole heart, and then go tell the whole congregation of the pleasure you’ve found in studying His works!

 

 

Our Cancer Journey: Epilogue

If you're new here, and would like to read about the rest of our journey through Leukemia, you can start here. 

We have finally made it to the two-year mark! John’s 2-year biopsy showed 100% donor cells, and no Leukemia! We are so grateful to the Lord for these last two years, both for the return of physical health, and for the growth in the Lord that we’ve both experienced. If a picture paints a thousand words, then a video paints a million! Here’s John, ringing the gong for the Two-Year All-Clear!

 

Our Cancer Journey, Part 12: Where We Go From Here

This is the final installment of a 12-part post, sharing our leukemia journey. If you're just joining us, you can start at Part One here.

The Right Timing

It has brought me great joy to write out our leukemia journey. It was a long time coming! Honestly, I’ve known for a while that I wanted to write about it, but I think it was just still too real, too raw, for me to be able to write objectively about what happened. Of course, all experience is subjective, but I think the perspective I developed in waiting til now before writing about it was helpful. I hope you have found it encouraging, and I hope you’ll pass it along, maybe to someone who is going through something similar, for their encouragement.

As I write this, my dear leukemia-surviving husband is suffering with Influenza B, and is quite miserable. Even just a few months ago, I think this illness would have sent me into a terrified panic attack. I can imagine all the what-if’s I’d be running through: What if his immune system can’t handle it? What if he develops pneumonia? What if I come down with it—who will take care of him? But, much to my joy, I had none of these thoughts. The Lord has been so faithful in caring for us throughout this entire journey that my trust in Him has become quite sufficient to keep me calm and unafraid.

Different Wife, Different Life
I am not the same wife I was before my husband got a life-threatening illness. The trial brought on by this deadly, aggressive cancer has taught me a lot about my faith and the God in whom I have placed it; and I thought I had been through some pretty tough stuff already! Surely my battle with chronic pain and all the limitations that come with it would have humbled me, would have deepened my faith and matured me. That is true, but this trial of seeing someone you love—on whom you have depended for most of your adult life—fall  victim to an aggressive, deadly disease? Well that is a trial on a “whole ‘notha level,” as they say.  

John has always been my go-to friend; my buffer in difficult situations; my safe place to go when life is scary. Experiencing the most frightening thing in my life so far, without his strong shoulder to lean on, has taught me much about myself and about God. I’ve learned that in some ways and seasons, I have made an idol of my husband. In seeking comfort, solace, and protection in him, I have become unaccustomed to seeking it in God. Of course, our spouses are to be a source of all these things, but they should never be the primary source of any of them. I’ve learned through this leukemia journey that God is my refuge and strength, my very present help in trouble.   

John’s illness gave me the opportunity to learn this dependence on God through experience. Though the trials in my life had prepared me to some degree for this one, I don’t think there’s any way we are ever truly ready for such a challenge. The Lord had given me many opportunities to learn this dependence on him through previous trials, but I believe that in my self-sufficiency, I had come through most of them without really disciplining myself to depend on Him. This time though, there was no choice.

Learning Submission Through Love
I can’t tell you how many nights I sat on my back porch after coming home from the hospital and just cried out to God for his mercy and help. I cried for John’s pain and suffering, and I cried for my loneliness and fear. I cried for the possibility that I might never bring him home, and I cried for the loss of life as we’d known it, even if I did. Those were gut-wrenching nights, exhausting but humbling. In the end they left me softer, more willing to be shaped and molded by my Creator God, and more eager to submit to his loving will.

I’ve learned more about submission over this past year and a half than at any other time in my Christian life. But what’s taught me about submission wasn’t the practice I got in submitting. It was the overwhelming, awe-inspiring, all-encompassing love of God. He showed me in countless ways throughout this awful ordeal how much he loved me. He comforted me in my pain; answered my husband’s prayers in ways that deepened his faith; provided for my every need, and heard my pitiful cries. But most of all, he came alongside me and walked me through it. This is the simple, beautiful, perfect love of God: He is near.

I sensed God’s presence with me in ways I had never experienced before. But the wonderful thing is that this closeness, this intimacy with the Lord has remained with me as this illness falls further into the rear view. My God is my own now. The God of the Bible, whom I studied diligently to know; the God of the counseling room, whose Word I studied to show myself a competent counselor; the God of the universe, who inspires awe and wonder every time I open my eyes: That God became my God over the course of these two years. A distant God I'd known intellectually became my sweet Friend and Counselor; my Abba; my Jesus.

What’s Next?
In just a few short months, Lord willing, we will have a final bone marrow biopsy, and the doctors will declare John “cured.” (There’s even a gong he gets to bang, and a certificate involved! I’ll pop back in here then with the update, and possibly a video of said gong-banging!)  The lessons I have learned on this journey will stick with me. I know this because those lessons were not self-taught or learned from others. They were seeds of assurance, planted by the One who can guarantee their growth and longevity. I’m not worried that I’ll lose this deep relationship we’ve developed, because I am not the one who sustains it. Jesus is the creator and sustainer of all things, including my relationship with him, and He will hold me fast. Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Our Cancer Journey, Part 11: Zooming In

Last time, I shared with you more of the ways God worked in our lives and in our hearts during the course of John’s treatment. He was so faithful and so good to us, I think I could probably get to “Part 100” of this blog series and still not list all the ways! Today, I’d like to narrow that bird’s eye view of God’s work in our process and share a bit about how our marriage was renewed along the way.

Answered Prayer

Like most Christian wives, I have prayed every day since our salvation for my husband’s spiritual growth. Neither of us knew the Lord when we met, and we were both saved after about 10 years of marriage. Being academically inclined, I dove in right away and learned all I could of the Scriptures and Christian doctrine. All along the way, I prayed that we both would have this desire to know our Creator better and when John got sick, I began to see the Lord taking hold of him as never before.

Though I was with John as much as I could be during his treatment, there was much of it that he had to endure alone. I was not present with him in the radiation machine, the many bone marrow biopsies, or the long nights of sick sleeplessness in the hospital. I believe these were the times the Lord’s presence encouraged and matured him.

“It Shouldn’t Work!”

There’s one story in particular that John loves to tell. After he developed a blood clot in the first picc line, they removed it and placed a temporary IV in his arm. It was only meant to be functional for a day or so, but they wanted to leave it in as long as it would function, just to postpone another insertion. The first day it worked just fine. The second day the nurse said, “It probably won’t work today, but we’ll give it a try.” It worked perfectly all day and night! The third day they said, “We probably will need to get this out today, but let’s check and see if it will work.” Again, no problems. The same thing happened the fourth day, as the techs kept saying, “This really shouldn’t still be working!” But each time they came to draw blood or hang meds, John was praying. He was so weary of the pain of his treatment, and he just wanted this one little blessing from the Lord, not to have to be stuck with needles yet again. He asked the Lord, before and during each attempt, to allow it to work one more time. God was gracious. He knew what John needed, and He generously provided.

Now this may not seem like a big deal, but for John it was just one of many faith-building providences. It deepened his love for the Lord and his trust in God's goodness. Not only were John’s prayers answered, but mine were too. My husband is a different man today than he was before he became ill. He is even more sensitive to my needs, more humble in our relationship, and quicker to see his own fault. These changes didn’t happen right away, but as time has passed and we’ve both gained perspective on what we’ve been through, we are seeing the changes the Lord has made in our relationship. There is a deeper connection than ever before between us, and between each of us and the Lord.

Grateful

If I had to choose one major change I’ve seen in our marriage as a result of John’s illness, I would say it is gratitude. Gratitude for each other, for our relationship, for our family. We don’t take each other for granted. We don’t get hung up on little things or petty differences, because we know something much more important: Life is fragile. The Lord gave us this marriage, and He can take it away at any time. We are both so thankful that He saw fit to let us keep our marriage, and to continue to grow in Him through it. We both love the Lord more deeply than before, and we treasure our relationship with Him and with each other.

And Even More Grateful

There was a couple we met one day at the clinic as we waited for our turn to see the doctor. Joe was the patient, and Jill was his caregiver. Though he had a different disease, Joe had had the same type of transplant as John, and after striking up a conversation we decided to exchange numbers and try to keep in touch. Jill was a sweet lady who texted me often and always had words of encouragement for me. I tried to encourage her too, though her husband suffered many more complications than mine and their journey was much more arduous. I was so grateful for her kindness and her interest in me and the challenges I faced. She was my “caregiver buddy” and her support was invaluable.

We kept in touch for over a year, and the last I’d heard her husband was doing well. One day, I texted to check in, and I received this reply: “Joe passed away last week. We buried him yesterday.” I can’t describe to you the shock and sorrow I felt upon reading that. In her last text, she'd said they were headed on a trip to visit family, and things were looking really positive. This news hit me hard. I struggled with whether to reach out to her, trying to put myself in her place. Having just lost her husband, would she want to hear from me? I did respond to her text, but never heard back from her. My heart still aches when I think about it, and John and I still pray for her nearly every night. This was another providential event that deepened my gratitude to God and my love for my husband.

My dear reading friend, who in your life do you treasure? Who do you love and value? Who has God blessed you with in your life? I’d like to urge you right now to tell that individual how much you love them, and how much of a blessing they are to you. Tell God how thankful you are for that person, and how grateful you are that He allowed you to have them in your life. We are not promised tomorrow, and none of us knows when the Lord will ordain the end of that relationship. Now is the time to reach out, both to God and to your loved ones, to express your love and gratitude.

Our Cancer Journey, Part 10: Reflections at the One-Year Mark

Last time, I promised you more details about all the answered prayer, and the many ways the Lord blessed us, throughout the time of our treatment. There are so many things to tell, it’s hard to know where to begin!

Blessed From the Beginning

For starters, the news of the leukemia was not the first time we’d heard there was an issue with John’s blood. He had actually begun to have some abnormal numbers in his routine blood work about 3 years previous to the diagnosis. While they continued to be a bit off, there was never really anything too alarming, so they just kept checking them once a quarter or so. John remained outwardly healthy and seemed perfectly fine, so the doctor wasn’t concerned other than to keep checking. Finally, there did come the day the numbers were alarming, and that led to the first biopsy, which confirmed the diagnosis.

Of course, having bad blood counts doesn’t seem like a blessing, but the knowledge and the monitoring allowed us to catch the disease early, before John even had a single symptom! In fact, when we arrived to check in at the hospital, the charge nurse looked at both of us and said, “Where’s the patient?” John has always taken pretty good care of himself, eating well and exercising regularly, so with no symptoms of disease, he looked normal and healthy. His good health was a huge advantage, and the doctors kept commenting how great it was that he had no high blood pressure, diabetes, or heart disease, as these can cause awful complications when undergoing treatment.  

A Wise Move

Another wonderful provision the Lord made for us is that we live so close to the hospital.  The University of Kansas Medical Center is just about 20 miles from our home. KU has one of the leading stem cell transplant departments in the nation, collaborating with other major centers such as John’s Hopkins. So essentially, we had a team of the best and brightest in the country practically in our back yard, and ready to pounce on John’s disease with everything they knew! We marveled then (and still do today) at God’s provision for us. When we’d moved back here to Kansas City (we’d both grown up here but had moved when John joined the Navy), we thought we were doing it so our kids could know their grandparents and cousins. But God had other reasons, which we wouldn’t know about for over two decades. We are so grateful that he moved us then, and that He let us think it was our idea!

Financial Provision

Shortly after diagnosis and the beginning of treatment came the discussion of how we would pay for it. John had been at his job for only a short time, and would not be eligible for short-term disability. After visiting with the finance person assigned to our case, we had a moment of panic: Would John keep his job? What would we do for income during the year of treatment, during which he would be able to work only sporadically, and that only if he was allowed to keep his job.  Providentially, that moment of panic was brief, as John was informed early on that his job would remain his, regardless of how much or how little he was able to work. He remained fully employed, and fully insured, throughout his treatment.

Even the insurance company was amazing. We had a Transplant Coordinator specially assigned to our case, and she called me every week to see how John was doing, and how she could help. Those calls were such a comfort to me, as I was very concerned about the cost of all this and how we would pay. It turned out our benefits were excellent, and each time I thought something might not be covered, I would get a call from the coordinator letting me know it was all taken care of. Of course, there are always deductibles and the out of pocket max, but even those are being provided by our good and gracious Father.

Early Wisdom Pays Off

One other side note about the finances: We decided early in our marriage that we would live well below our means. We’d agreed I would stay home with the children, so we always lived on one income, regardless of how much it was. This early decision proved very wise as we navigated this journey, and I am so thankful that I don’t need to go out and get a job to pay off our medical debt while supporting a lifestyle at or above our means. Just one example that careful, wise decisions made early in marriage will bear lasting fruit.

There are many more examples of God’s faithfulness to us during this time, but they will have to wait till my next installment. Meanwhile, won’t you take a moment and praise God for His provision in your life? I’m certain we are not alone in marveling at the goodness of God. If you’re reading this, you’ve had some trials in your life too, I’m sure. Why not take the time, right now, to praise God for the many blessings that have flowed from His nail-scarred hands into your life?

Our Cancer Journey, Part Nine: The One-Year Mark

In my last post, I shared how we slowly got back to normal (whatever that is!) as John recovered from chemotherapy, radiation, and a stem cell transplant after being diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia in May of 2018. It was like a whole new world for us that spring, as we slowly ventured back out into life. We began to go thrift shopping together again—something we’d always enjoyed--and it was so wonderful! In fact, it was almost surreal to be doing regular things again after such a traumatic series of events over the course of a year. We were so grateful, and full of joy at this opportunity to continue life together after thinking that might not happen.

Testing, Testing 123
About this time, they began to schedule our one-year post-transplant follow up testing. This included some tests for GVHD, a disease that can happen as a result of donor cells and host cells battling for dominion in the body. This can be deadly, but by the grace of God, John never had any symptoms of this dreaded disease, which had struck fear in me from the moment I heard about it. Along with those tests, John would have another bone marrow biopsy to make sure he was still in remission. This test would also show whether he was still 100% donor. This is also called a chimerism, or engraftment test. At each of his previous engraftment tests, the results had shown 100% donor cells in the sample. This means it is very unlikely that his own cells will return, threatening a relapse of the original disease.

One complication that had occurred as a result of John’s central line placement was a blood clot in the right atrium of his heart. While that sounds really scary, the doctors did not seem all that concerned about it! The details of that are way above my pay grade, but John did have this blood clot for about a year before it finally resolved. Re-checking this was another of the follow-up tests we had at the one-year mark.

For me, all this testing meant more anxiety (AKA sanctification), and I found myself continually going back to the Lord for strength and help. Earlier that year, I had begun to have some medical issues. This really isn’t a big surprise, considering the stress level we were under, but these were persistent, and I was having some testing of my own shortly before this one-year mark. Thankfully, there was no serious disease, just a chronic condition that could be managed with diet and/or medication. An unidentified growth in my thyroid brought another scare (when you go through something like this, you think every symptom means cancer), so more testing was in God’s plan for me, too. Again, no serious condition was found, but I did have to have surgery after John’s testing was completed.

Provision Through Many Channels

Overall, it was a crazy-making time, and the stress of waiting for results did nothing to restore my sanity! Praise the Lord though, He was with me every minute! Always by my side, the Lord never allowed me to feel alone or hopeless. There were definitely many desperate days, as my journal from that time attests, but never a moment I felt abandoned or without strength. Our God is an amazing Friend. He always know what is needed, and He always provides it.

For me, that provision came primarily through His Word, but a huge part of it was my church. Not just while we were waiting for results, but throughout that year of treatment my brothers and sisters in our local church body were so faithful in calling, sending emails, texts, letters, always letting us know they were praying. The women’s ministry team frequently checked in to see what we needed, and many individuals showed up at my door with sweet gifts, smiles and “virtual hugs” There were many notes in Facebook Messenger and few days went by that I didn’t hear from someone in my church through one of these channels.

Friends and family were indispensable, too. Our boys were very faithful in keeping in touch with both John and me, and talking to them was always encouraging. My daughter-in-law, my siblings, and several friends all came in turn to get me out of the hospital for lunch or coffee, and those were really sweet times of support and encouragement. My take-away from this? If you know someone who is going through something like this, and you’re not sure whether to “bother” them or not, do it! There were times that I turned down offers for one reason or another, but just knowing people were thinking of us, that we had not been forgotten, was so very precious, and a key factor in our ability to keep going. If the Lord leads you to reach out, you should obey.

The Results

OK, now I will get to the results: In a word, they were perfect! Total remission, 100% donor, no GVHD, and no blood clot! Though there were some anxious moments, there couldn’t have been any better news for us on that day we got the results. God was so faithful to bring us to that one year mark, but I believe I would still be proclaiming His faithfulness even if the results hadn’t been so good. God is who He says He is, regardless of our circumstances. His Word tells us that He is faithful, and we can believe it simply on that basis. But oh, how he shows that faithfulness! I’ve shared with you only a fraction of it in this post. Next time, I’ll give you more details about just how faithful He has been to us, providing so many things we didn’t even ask for, and many that we did. 

Our Cancer Journey, Part Eight: Date Night In: Life After Treatment

Last time, I shared about the crazy anxiety I suffered during flu season, and how the Lord helped me and guided me through it. But that winter wasn’t just about fear and worry. There were also some sweet times that we enjoyed as we stayed in and away from all the bugs out there.

A New Tradition
Before John’s illness, we’d had a dinner date every Friday night, rotating our favorite restaurants. During our “education” session before the transplant, we were instructed on the dangers of restaurant food. The clear message was that, with way too many variables in play, restaurants really are not safe and should be avoided. That stuck with us, so we decided not to resume our weekly date nights out. Instead, we had a “date night in” each week. We chose a recipe—something new I hadn’t made before—each week, and cooked together. We also did some baking. We had never cooked together before, and we found that we really enjoyed it! Some weeks, we even dressed up for our date. It was a very special time, and we made some wonderful memories.

We discovered that we had gotten into somewhat of a rut with our date nights, and this new practice got us out of it. Working together in the kitchen helped to build back our relationship, which had become somewhat sterile over the months of his treatment. The patient/caregiver dynamic is quite different from the husband/wife dynamic, and it can be tricky to maintain the marriage relationship in this situation. While John was happy to have me calling the shots during his treatment, as he got better, I saw that I had gotten a little bossy! During that winter, we began to piece back together the “couple” relationship we’d had before, but I think we put it back together a little better and a little stronger this time. Rather than letting things just play out in our marriage, we became intentional about building our relationship, and more active in serving one another.

Relationship Matters

That intentionality is important in any marriage, but especially in a marriage where one or both partners has a disability or long term illness. It is easy to let the relationship slip into all the practical issues in this kind of care, but we must remember that we are first husband and wife. Love, compassion, respect, and service all have to come together in the situation. I think it is easy, especially for women, to go into serving mode and neglect the sweet things that a wife offers her husband. It can be exhausting caring for someone 24/7. There were many days in the beginning when I just wanted to get done with what I was doing, and I noticed that I had become rather cold at times. I am glad the Lord brought this to my attention, and I did my best to add a smile when bringing his pills, or a hug when taking away his dishes.

Those were sweet months, and before we knew it, that long winter was over and we were freer to get out. We went back to church for the first time since the diagnosis in April. It had been nearly a year since we’d attended, and it was so very exciting to be back! Our church family had stayed in close touch with us the whole time, through calls, cards, email and social media. We never really felt isolated from the body or out of touch. I also had sent frequent emails updating the church family on what was happening with John, and I think this also helped to keep us in the minds and prayers of our friends at church. What a blessing it was to get back there, and actually see everyone face to face! We are forever grateful for our church!

Finally, our season of isolation was over. Next came all of the one-year testing. Would he be in remission? Still 100% donor cells? Had his organs come through the chemo and radiation without damage? More on that next time!

Our Cancer Journey, Part Seven: Anxiety, Microbes, and the Sovereignty of God

In my last post, I shared with you all the ways God graciously provided for us during the 100 days of isolation required after a stem cell transplant. Those three-plus months were probably some of the most difficult of my life. Every part of me—spiritual, physical, and emotional— was stretched to new limits and the Lord was incredibly faithful to give me all the flexibility I needed to accommodate those demands.

Battling Fear...Again
Our 100 days of isolation ended on November first, which is pretty much the start of cold and flu season here in the Midwest. This is when the fear and anxiety really began for me. For the first few months after diagnosis, it was all business, as far as I was concerned. I guess you could say I am a doer. When there is something to be done, I get busy doing it. I’ve never been a procrastinator. So, in this case, I quickly shifted from shock at the diagnosis to full-on task mode: Get to the hospital before rounds each morning. Get John’s laundry done. Get the bills paid, insurance ironed out, medications sorted, house cleaned. Get the guest room set up for him to come home; line up guys to come sit with him while I swim, and on and on the to-do list went. By the grace of God, I was up for the challenge, and we survived that first 100 days.

Because of the pace of life during that period, I really didn’t have time to worry about much. I was focused on doing everything to the best of my ability to keep John well. But, after the 100 days, when requirements were somewhat relaxed, I did begin to have some time on my hands and, as has been my habit for years, my mind tended to go to the “what-ifs,” especially regarding illnesses. I became very anxious about the possibility that he could get an infection of some kind as we were venturing back out into the world. When we inquired about precautions to take, the doctors had told us that if I was exposed to a virus, I could pass it on to him without ever actually coming down with it myself! I had never known before that, even if you fight off a virus or bacteria, you could be shedding it in the process to everyone you are close to. 

Panic vs Prayer
At that point, John was still not going out much, but after hearing that from the doctor, I began to be fearful of every little sneeze or cough I heard when I was out and about. I was so afraid that I would unknowingly bring home some devastating illness that I was obsessive about hand sanitizer, and refused to be around anyone who even remotely seemed like they might be sick. If I happened to learn someone I’d seen was sick, I would worry for the next three days until I was sure I hadn’t caught it.  In some ways, it was reasonable to be extra cautious, but I began to see that there was an issue with my trust in God when the anxiety really peaked. It was a constant discipline I had to engage with my mind, to remind myself that God is sovereign over microbes, and that if He had ordained for John to get some kind of infection, then His will would be accomplished in it and He would be with us through it.

I had such a sense of responsibility for John’s well being—really his very life—because it had been so thoroughly drilled into my head during the “education” portion of treatment. That voice that told me his life was in my hands often out-shouted the voice of truth, that God was in control and that He loved us and had a purpose in everything He allowed. I’m not going to say it was easy, or that I had victory every time. But, over the course of that flu season, the Lord continued to help me correct my thinking and He comforted me oh, so many times. He was, and still is, so very patient with me, and I am grateful.

Opportunities to Trust

Even now it is flu season again, and John has actually come down with a couple of illnesses. But each time his own immune system, with the help of an antibiotic when necessary, has kicked in and he has recovered. The Lord was so kind to wait until I had learned to trust Him in it before bringing these sicknesses. He always knows just when and how much to pinch this clay as he molds and shapes me! He gave me that whole long winter to build my trust in this area (with the help of the Holy Spirit, of course), before a real sickness came along.

I continue to marvel at the way God works. His patience and love for us could fill my thoughts for hours. His love and protection for my heart, and His sweet friendship became more and more real as the weeks and months went on. That winter was a sweet time for us as a couple. Next time, I’ll tell you more about that, and the amazing things God did in our marriage.

Our Cancer Journey, Part Six: Parking Lots, Swimming Pools, and God's Grace

Last time, I shared with you some of the duties and responsibilities of the caregiver in a stem cell transplant case. Reading back through that post, I am reminded of how gracious the Lord was to me during that time. Actually, from the time of the diagnosis and onward through treatment, God kept giving gifts and answering prayers. The most remarkable gift He gave me was a relatively pain-free season! I was sure that with all of the walking I was doing during his hospitalizations, coupled with having no time for the regular therapy I receive, I would be in a great deal of pain. I worried that the high standards of house cleaning would put me over the edge, and I would surely be in trouble. But by God’s grace, that was not the case! In fact, this period of time was probably the best my leg has felt in a while. There were a number of things like this, which God just took care of for me. Even finding a parking spot at the hospital each day was superintended by the Lord, and most days I had no problem. (If you know anything about parking at a major university medical center, then you know what I’m talking about!)

Life in Isolation
For the first 100 days after transplant, John was not allowed to leave our home, nor could he be alone. So if I wanted or needed to go anywhere, I had to find someone to come over and stay with him while I was gone. There were several people who volunteered to shop or run errands for me, and this was very helpful. (Also sanctifying, because I had to accept and appreciate others’ methods and choices in the shopping. This was a real eye opener for me, how very controlling and particular I am!) But I got a little stir crazy, and needed to get out occasionally. I also needed my regular visits to the pool to keep my joints moving and to keep up the strength I needed in those days. The Lord was, once again, so very gracious, providing several men who were willing to come over and visit with John while I went to the pool two days a week. The Lord knew how much I needed that water therapy to keep my leg going for all of the work he’d called me to in this season, and He provided it. What a loving Father He is!

This isolation brought growth in yet another area, regarding loneliness. I am a “people person,” and have never been one who enjoys a lot of alone time. God, in His wisdom, knew that this was an area where I needed to grow so He used it (God wastes nothing) to show me how dependent I had become on the company of friends. He closeted me with just Himself, and I began to see that, though I was physically and circumstantially alone (John was here but not really present), I began to have a sense of His presence with me during that time. My need of Him grew as the isolation went on, and I became more and more aware of His presence with me. It was a very special time of growth for me. I spent more time in the Word and in prayer, and developed a new appreciation for friendship with the Lord which has stayed with me.

Something Must Change
One other conviction I had during this time was the level to which I had allowed my biblical priorities to slip. I had begun working at a biblical counseling center several years earlier, and my role there had become quite consuming. What had started as an intention to do some counseling had morphed into a number of roles that added up to almost full-time work. As the days went on after transplant, I realized how low my role as wife and homemaker had sunk in my priorities, and how elevated my counseling center job had become in how I used my time and energy. As each day passed after transplant and John improved, both the hope that he was going to make it and the realization that something needed to change, grew. It was clear that I needed to come back home and realign my priorities biblically. I resigned from my job and began handing down my responsibilities.

The Lord taught me so much during those 100 days, but the main lesson I came away with is that He is God and I am not. Of course I knew this before, but during this time it became clear to me that I was not living this truth. I was not submitted to His will for my life; I didn’t trust Him to see me through hard things; and I had way too much hope and confidence in myself and my own sufficiency. He taught me these lessons through a thousand tiny details and a few grand revelations. He was gracious and oh so merciful to me, and it has made me a more grateful, humble (I hope) Christian. Next time, I’ll share with you how these new perspectives were challenged when the 100 days were over and some freedoms returned.

Our Cancer Journey, Part Five: The Patient and the Caregiver

(You can read Part 4 here.)

Stem cell transplant has its own calendar. The days leading up to transplant are minus days. We referred to the 5 days before transplant as T minus 5, T minus 4, T minus 3, etc. Transplant day is Day Zero. The first day after transplant is day Plus 1, etc. John did well until Day Plus 3, when they had to start another round of chemo. This is a routine part of the procedure, which is a preventive measure against Cytokine Release Syndrome. I never really understood all the details about why more chemo was necessary at this point, but I definitely saw the awful effects of it. John had a really rough few days with nausea, chills, fever, and extreme fatigue. It took him till about Day Plus 10 to fully recover from that round of chemo, and once he did, he began to really improve. So much so, in fact, that he was released from the hospital much more quickly than expected. The doctors sent us home just two weeks after transplant!

Surprise! You're Going Home!
This was a huge surprise to me, as I had not done everything I needed to do to prepare for his homecoming. I'd like to back up a minute and share with you what is required of a caregiver in this situation. When we first learned John would need a transplant, we were sent to a class to learn what it would be like. While you can never quite get the full picture of it until you live it, this was at least some basic instruction on how to keep the patient alive after transplant. (I say this somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but we did see several instances with other patients where failing to keep to the standards we were taught that day resulted in disaster.)

The first and most important instruction: KEEP YOUR HOUSE CLEAN! Specifically, John had to have his own bathroom that no one else used, and it had to be thoroughly cleaned daily. The kitchen had to be thoroughly cleaned weekly, including cleaning out the microwave, sweeping and mopping the floor, cleaning cabinet fronts, disinfecting every handle in the room, and wiping out the refrigerator. Other weekly chores included dusting every single surface, including all the ceiling fans (we have one in every room of the house), sweeping and mopping the hardwood floors throughout the house, and wiping down all of the leather furniture.

On a more personal level, his toothbrush had to be replaced every week, he needed a clean washcloth and towel every day, and his skin--which was very dry and delicate after radiation and chemo--had to be slathered with moisturizing lotion and checked for signs of GVHD daily. His bedding (He had to have his own bed) had to be changed every other day.

"His Life Depends on You"
The second category of learning at that class was about food. They made it clear that if he ate anything that did not meet the criteria they presented, he could become very ill or even die. All fresh produce had to be washed thoroughly before serving. They gave us a chart showing the temperature all the cooked food had to reach before serving, and advised us not to take any meals offered by friends or family, since there is no way to know what standard of cleanliness is observed in their homes, and whether this protocol would be followed or not. He was not allowed to have any takeout food or anything already prepared from any store or restaurant. Coincidentally, as it happened, he had no appetite anyway, and pretty much subsisted on noodles, dry toast, and oatmeal for the first few weeks.

In addition to all the work of caring for him, we had to go to the Bone Marrow Transplant clinic daily for the first two weeks, to check blood work and receive IV magnesium, which apparently is low in transplant patients for the first few months. John was taking a powerful anti-rejection medication, along with an antiviral and an antifungal, any or all of which could cause problems for him, so those levels had to be checked daily at first. He was taking about 32 pills at the time (which I painstakingly sorted and put in a giant pill tray once a week--probably my most anxious task since this was yet another life-or death responsibility), and all had to be processed by an already weakened set of organs. For that reason and others, blood and chemistry had to be checked daily.

If you've read this far, you can see that the responsibilities of the caregiver in a transplant case could potentially be overwhelming. Add to that the emotional stress of watching your loved one suffer and all of the unknowns and what-ifs, and you get a pretty clear picture of what I was going through. You might think that I collapsed into a puddle at the end of the day, and some of those days, you would be right. But the Lord was working in mighty and miraculous ways, and He sustained me through it all. Today I wanted you to understand the practical side of things. Next time, I'll share with you how the Lord worked through His Word, His people, and His Spirit, showing His power and love in ways that deepened my faith, gave me courage, and strengthened my heart. What Savior, what a Friend He is!

Our Cancer Journey, Part Four: Finding a Match by the Matchless Grace of God

(You can read Part Three here.)

Finally, after 2 weeks, the results were in and our younger son was a match! Oh, how we praised the Lord that day! While both boys were a genetic half match, there were a few details of the genes that made our 2nd-born the better donor. He was eager to jump in, and began having tests to make sure he was healthy enough to donate. We will forever praise the Lord for our son's sweet spirit and willingness to jump through all the hoops the doctors asked him to. He also suffered some pain, as the drugs he had to take to increase the number of stem cells he produced gave him all-over bone pain for the weeks he was treated. We are so grateful to God for giving us this son, who literally saved his father's life! I'm certain our older son would have been equally happy and eager to help. We are truly blessed parents.

Preparing for Transplant

Once we had the donor, the doctors sent us all over town to various clinics for testing to make sure John was healthy enough for the treatments leading up to the transplant:  First, he would need more and stronger chemotherapy to blast away all of his native bone marrow and the cells therein. The purpose was to make sure there were no cells in his body that would fight against the donor cells for possession of his bone marrow. In addition to chemotherapy, John had total body irradiation the day before the transplant. 

Radiation day was particularly difficult, as the machine they would be using went out of commission just before his appointment. Apparently there was some small screw missing, and we had yet another opportunity to think on and pray for the tiniest details of this very precarious process. John had already had his 5 days of chemo, and today was radiation. Tomorrow was the transplant, and the timing had to be exactly that. This radiation had to happen today! We waited over six hours before they finally got it running, and John had his radiation. I think that was possibly the most exhausting day of the entire journey.

To the Brink of Death
So, through chemo and radiation, they would basically have to bring him as close to death as possible, before bringing him back with the new cells; and I will tell you that looking at him, it was clear they had succeeded! He had lost a lot of weight, every hair he'd ever had, and most of his energy. Yet, my husband still seemed strong to me. He remained positive, trusting the process, as they say, but also trusting the Lord who was reigning over it. On transplant day, we all went to the hospital: Our son to one floor, to donate the stem cells, and John and I to the transplant unit to check in for what could possibly be another month-long (or more) stay.

Once I got John settled in, I went down to visit with our sweet donor, who was comfortably ensconced with blankets, pillows, and of course his headphones. (He is never without his headphones. The kid lives for music!) As complex and high-biotech as stem cell harvesting sounds, the actual process looks quite simple: The blood goes out of the donor's vein through a port, runs through a machine (it looks a lot like a dialysis machine), the stem cells are deposited into a bag, and the rest of the blood goes right back into the donor. That's it! As I sat and watched the bag slowly fill up, I was reminded again of the tiny details that were monumentally important here. This little bag had to be transported up 2 flights and brought to my husband's bedside. I'm sure you can imagine all the things that went through my mind that could go wrong here!

And Now we Wait
The process, by God's grace, was extremely smooth, and John received the cells through his own port just moments after the bag was disconnected from the machine downstairs. In a slightly anticlimactic 15 minutes, the bag was hung on the IV pole, the tube was connected, and in the cells went, off to do what they do best--become white cells, red cells, and all the other kinds of blood cells that a stem cell is capable of becoming! It is a miraculous, incredible, unfathomable miracle of God that this could even happen. Yet, here we were, watching it. All I could do was praise God and pray that it worked! Now the real waiting would begin. Would the cells do as predicted, becoming new blood cells untainted by leukemia? Would they multiply and increase, strengthening and bringing new life to his body? How would the battle between the old cells (what was left of them) and the new ones play out? Only time would tell. Now, as we waited, we would have the most profound opportunity of our lives to trust the God Of All Life.

Our Cancer Journey, Part Three: The Search For a Donor

(You can read Part Two here.)

By the time John was released from the hospital, the doctors had determined that he would definitely need a bone marrow transplant in order to remain in remission. The trouble was, no donor could be found. All of his siblings were tested, and none were a match. Of over 33 million registered donors in the Be The Match database, not one was even close to a match for John. Though we were trusting God for the outcome here, I will confess that I was pretty scared we wouldn't find one.

Will We Find a Match?
After celebrating Father's Day in the hospital, we checked out just a week or so later, just in time for John's birthday. We were so happy to be home, yet there was this dark cloud hanging over our head--No donors available. After genetic testing, the doctors had discovered that John had a rare genetic mutation that may or may not have caused his leukemia. When all other sources were exhausted, they looked to our two boys for the donation, since they each would for sure be at least a half match, as half the genes they carry are John's and half are mine. So we put out the call to the church to begin praying that one of them would be a match. The day after his release, we met with the geneticist.

I will never forget that meeting. Here we were, the whole family around the table with a man we'd never met who would pretty much be the decider (at least in an earthly sense) of our future. It was kind of surreal, sitting there watching my boys spit into tubes and praying that one of them would be a match. I looked at my husband beside me, thin and pale, and found it very hard to imagine that these two tubes of spit were going to determine whether I would receive him back whole or not. While I know that God is sovereign, and that He already knew the outcome, I have to be honest and tell you that I was not thinking that way in the moment. There was a sense that this couldn't possibly be our lives now, and that I was somehow outside of this scene, looking in.

So Many What-Ifs
There were other necessary factors besides the genetic match. The central one was that the matching son not have the same genetic mutation, just in case it was indeed a factor in the disease. So, not only did one of them have to match, but also the matching one had to be free of the mutation. The odds here seemed slim, and all kinds of scenarios went through my head. I had a million questions: What if neither of them match? What if they both have the mutation? Will we use one of them anyway? Is there a way to alter the mutation? (They're doing all kinds of stuff with genes now, so why couldn't this be a thing?) What will we do if no match is found? There were a million such "what if" questions running through my brain. And it would be forever (two weeks) before we would have the answers.

Those two weeks were the slowest in the history of the world. Though we tried to enjoy our time together, it was through a fog of uncertainty and fear that we passed our days. I remember one day in particular. We were at the lake, which is sort of our "happy place," just watching the sailboats and enjoying the beautiful scenery. At one point, John turned to me and said, "What if it doesn't work? What if we go through all this, and it doesn't work? What if I'm not here?" I know this had been a question in my mind for weeks, but I had not verbalized it. In a way, I was glad that he did. We both cried and just held each other. This was a much needed release for both of us, and really the first time we had shared any kind of grief or emotion regarding his illness. It was a deeply sorrowful moment, but it had a healing and unifying effect on us. After all these weeks of parallel perseverance, this moment of shared lament was a gift.

So many questions, and so little control of anything that was happening. But God is faithful, and He continued to show Himself so in the weeks to come.

Our Cancer Journey, Part Two: He will Hold Us Fast

Last time, I shared about the whirlwind that began with John's diagnosis, and I touched briefly on the faithfulness of God in those early days. I'd like to share more today about God's faithfulness to us, and how he used those 28 days of John's initial treatment in each of us, and in our marriage.

Separate but Together in the Lord
First, I have to say that John and I handled this crisis in very different ways. John is a rock solid, fearless man, at least in my eyes. He has always been a place of safety for me, and I have never worried that he would be unfaithful in any way, or that I would ever be in any danger with him. He is always the calm to my storm, and with few exceptions has never given in to fear or panic. Now, think of the opposite of that, and you have me. I have bounced back and forth between anxiety and depression for as long as I can remember. Led by my emotions, my life was a crazy coaster before salvation, and since I've been saved, it's more like a game of whack-a-mole: I gain victory over fear in one situation, and it pops back up in another one. Clearly these weren't victories, but cease-fires. More on that later.

Being wired so differently had an impact on how we handled this season. John simply put his head down, did what the doctors said, and kept silent. I didn't want to express my fears and sorrow to him, because he needed me to be positive and strong. This was a first for us. This role of the "strong one" was foreign to me and I had no idea how to fill it. Not only that, but my strong protector and place of safety was sick, weak, and unable to provide refuge for me. I began to see that I had been looking to my husband for things only God can give. I was grateful that the Lord allowed me to see this, and I wrote many lines in my journal confessing and repenting of it. We each got through it in our own way, sort of separate but together, as God held us both close to His heart. 

Deep Pain, Abundant Mercies
Those days were bittersweet. We spent more time together than we had in years, yet the reason for our togetherness was dark and heavy. The nurses wanted him to walk the halls several times a day, so we walked together, mostly quiet except for the squeaky wheels of the IV pole that always accompanied us. At the end of the day, we would do one last trip, ending at the door to the air locked unit, where we would kiss goodbye. He would walk alone back to his room, and I would walk alone out into the winding maze of the concrete parking structure, to find my car and drive home. There were few nights I didn't cry as I left. Nothing has ever been as heartbreaking to me as looking back at my poor sweet hubby standing in the hallway in a hospital gown, waving good bye. Most nights, I continued to cry, releasing all the tears I'd held back that day, as I made the 30-minute drive home. I know the Lord was protecting me, because there was no stopping the tears and I made the drive safely every night.

Looking back, I am so grateful for all that the Lord did in my heart and mind during that time. There were no lightning bolts or visions but all along the way, he did small but important things to soften the blow of this illness. John's employer (of just 3 months at the time) was very supportive, and there was never any concern that we would lose our insurance or that he wouldn't have a job when this was all over. There were many days that the Lord miraculously provided a parking space for me in the very crowded parking structure that was always under construction. The bathroom on the unit was off limits to family members, so there was a long walk to the nearest restroom. At first I was afraid this would be too much for my knee, but I never had a moment of pain in the walking, and it really turned out to be a blessing. There were many times I needed that walk to get control of my emotions so I wouldn't cry in front of John. God continually showed Himself faithful in these ways and many more.

When those first 28 days were over, John was declared "in remission" and we were sent home. But the journey was far from over. We had many days of testing and other treatments ahead of us, and also the continued search for a donor. Next time, I'll share with you how God shepherded us through those difficult and fearful steps. 

p.s. I'd like to share with you a book that we read at the time that was very helpful. If you're going through a long, difficult trial, I highly recommend Red Sea Rules.

Our Cancer Journey, Part One

It's been nearly two years since I posted anything on this blog. So much has happened, and I have grown a great deal in the Lord since my last post. In that post, I expressed my heart's desire for more of Christ, and I believe the Lord has fulfilled that through some difficult trials in the interim. My hope today is to share with you some of those trials, and to express in a way that is helpful to you, how the Lord has worked in my heart through them. Everything that has happened has had these things in common--disease, pain, fear, and God's faithfulness. I'm sure I won't get them all out in this one post, so my plan is to post something each week or so. We'll see if that's God's plan too...

I stopped writing this blog because I was writing pretty frequently for another blog, which was associated with the counseling center where I worked. That job became pretty much full time, and I eventually had no time to write at all, for anyone. I was counseling, directing the online training program for the Counseling Center, and was pretty much consumed with all things Biblical Counseling.

The End of Life as We Knew It
All that came to a screeching halt when my husband was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) in May of 2018. This was devastating news that came through a phone call when I was in the middle of a Skype counseling session. I hung up with my counselee and left to join my husband at the doctor's office, where we were told that he must start immediate treatment. Within 24 hours, we were at the hospital and he was receiving chemo, while the doctors searched the registry for a stem cell transplant donor. AML is an aggressive form of blood cancer. They said they could probably get it into remission with chemo, but they were already pretty sure he would need a transplant for long term survival.

What followed is now a blur of hospital days: Calling relatives to tell them about the diagnosis; racing to make it in time for morning rounds at the hospital after circling endlessly to find a parking space; trying to encourage my husband by reading Psalms to him and just being there; hours of calls with  insurance reps and the transplant coordinator; long drives back and forth, during which I shed many tears and cries to the Lord.

The Battle: Fear vs Faith
Most of those cries were pleas that He would allow me to keep my husband. Throughout this time, I was terrified that John would die. I prayed and begged the Lord to let me keep him. John is truly my soul mate. We were married in Reno before we really even knew each other (long story) but even then, God knew that these two wretched, hell-bound sinners would one day come to know and serve Him. At the time of the diagnosis, we'd been married 32 years, and the thought that he might be taken from me by this disease was inconceivable to me. Yet as I watched him grow weaker and sicker over those weeks, I simply could not stop the fear from growing in my heart.

I would like to say that I immersed myself in the love of God, and was able to conquer the fear that plagued me. But that is not what happened. Each day at the hospital as he slept, I graded papers from the online students, read novels, or scrolled through social media. In the evenings, when I finally collapsed in my recliner after choking down some dinner and packing for the next day, I escaped my fears through Netflix or talking to friends on the phone. In the mornings, I read my Bible and prayed, often crying out to God for help. Yet, when I closed my Bible and walked away, I shifted to self-sufficiency/protection mode, and got in gear to go fight for my husband's life. I was certainly dependent on God, but I wasn't thinking that way. He was holding me up in ways I didn't even know at the time.

Creator, Sustainer
One thing God did during the whole course of this process was sustain me physically. If you've read the earlier posts to this blog, you know that I have a chronic pain condition caused by a bad knee replacement over ten years ago. Well, that knee held up under more walking than I have probably ever done since that surgery. I had very little pain, which was a great blessing because I had zero time for any treatments. The Lord supplied plenty of adrenaline and everything else I needed physically to keep me well and mostly pain free throughout the time of that first intensive treatment.

I'm going to stop here for now, because I don't want these posts to be too long. This is a pretty long story, but hang in there with me and come back, because I think you will be encouraged as you see the faithfulness of God throughout this journey. And (I'll just come right out and say this), these posts will benefit me too. I've struggled with a number of physical and emotional issues since John's apparent recovery (we'll know for sure if he's 'cured' in August of next year), and a number of wise counselors have advised me to write out our story. I figured I might as well do it here, in the hope that others will benefit. Thank you for reading thus far. I hope you will join me again soon for the next installment. 

Power...To Suffer?

It is just a few days from the official start of winter here in the Midwest, but the Aches and Pains Index is already off the charts, and boy am I feeling it! The artificial knee that began my quest to be near to the Healer pushes me toward Him the hardest at this time of year. It aches and becomes very stiff as the barometric pressure goes up and down. The stiffness changes my gait, which leads to problems with the hip and low back on that side. The pain causes me to reduce the amount of strengthening exercises I can do, and as the muscles atrophy, the pain increases, in a cycle that doesn't end until Summer. I tell you all this not to complain, but to give you an idea as to the physical state that brought about this latest lesson from the Lord.

Providentially, this kind of weather accompanies a time of year when more is required of me physically than any other. Thanksgiving and Christmas in the US are right on top of each other, and both mean lots of time on my feet. Even with pre-made food and grocery pick-up, there is still plenty of cleaning and preparation to be done. Pain levels were particularly high this year for some reason, so I was thankful to be able to order our Thanksgiving meal from the grocery store we've used the last 4 years. Usually, the food is really good, but this year it was disappointing. As I looked over the meal the night before, I became more and more despondent about the fact that I am not able to prepare all of these traditional dishes myself. (Well, technically I suppose I could, but it would come at a great cost of pain, both during and for many days after.) Though I tried to keep bringing my sorrow to the Lord, I was not successful in putting it away.

On Thanksgiving morning, when I woke up and began preparing, I felt strong emotions again, but surprisingly, I was not sad. I was angry: Angry that my knee replacement was done wrong; angry that at my age, I cannot be on my feet long enough to prepare the meal; angry that I had to serve my family what I saw as sub-standard food on such a special day; angry at myself for still being so emotional after nearly 10 years--10 Thanksgivings--in this same condition. Shouldn't I be over this by now!?

But really, I was angry at God. A pastor once told me that all (unrighteous) anger is anger at God, because it is anger at His providence. The Lord ordained this botched knee replacement for His good reasons. What right did I have to be angry about it? I'm sure I've posted about this issue before, and many times I've thought I had submitted to His will regarding my mobility. Maybe I have, and this was just a temptation from Satan to renew my sense of injustice. I'm not sure what it was, but one thing was clear: That morning, I was not submitted to His will. I cried and prayed, and begged Him to grant me repentance from this anger. I think I ended up just being resigned to it that day. I put it aside and determined to enjoy my family.

Later though, when I sat down with God's Word, He showed me something I'd never seen before, in Colossians 1:11. This verse comes in the middle of a whole list of qualities for which Paul says he is praying for his readers. Among other things, he asks that they may be "...strengthened with all might according to His glorious power..." Now I've read this passage many times, and used it in counseling often. But that day He made it personal for me, and I gained a new understanding. I've often thought of the wonder of being strengthened with all might according to His glorious power. The kind of strength God can provide comes from the ultimate power that created and sustains the entire universe! Who wouldn't want that kind of power? But I've just sort of run with it from there, not paying much attention to the following clause: "for all patience and longsuffering with joy." What? Not power for helping others? Not power for physical strength? Not power for greater ministry? No. Paul is asking the Lord to strengthen his readers for patience and longsuffering.

Honestly, I want all the power, but I don't want to use it for longsuffering! I don't want to suffer at all, and when I do, I want it to be short, not long! But the Lord clearly was telling me (and you) that He gives us His power so that we can have patience in the trial: Patience to endure; patience to wait on His timing and trust Him; patience to accept, and even embrace, what we don't want. Most importantly, He wants to strengthen us to have the patience to find joy in the trial. For me, when something hurts, I want it to stop. I am very IMpatient with pain! In my childish mind, when I hurt, I think it will last forever. I find myself with a sense of entitlement to comfort, and that is where the anger really gets a foothold.

Our Father offers us His power so that we can be strengthened to be patient, longsuffering, and joyful. While His power does supply some to do great things, He showed me on that day that His power is what I need to become a patient sufferer. I could almost hear Him saying, "Be patient, child, by the strength I give you, and I will show you how I will be glorified in your pain." The 'great thing' I can do through God's strength is show the world that this naturally impatient, entitled, stubborn sinner can learn to be patient; to suffer long; and to find joy in the strength of her Savior.

Because of His faithfulness, I can fulfill my purpose--to glorify Him--simply by believing what He says and being patient. This pain is not eternal. One day, I will be with Him, and I will have no pain, no suffering, no more need for patience. But, until then, I can embody His strength and show the world His power just by suffering patiently. Hallelujah! What power! What a Savior!

More of Him

Recently, I’ve been working with my massage therapist to find some ways to reduce the arthrofibrosis (a fancy way of saying scar tissue or contracture, causing stiffening of an injured joint), to increase the range of motion around my knee. She has been somewhat successful, and I am cautiously optimistic that this might actually make my knee a little more functional and a little less painful, if I keep it up. When I first recognized that this treatment was helping, I really praised God and worshiped Him for bringing along this treatment. Sadly, however, that period of praise and worship was short, because, as usual, my heart wants more.

More pain relief: It went from a 6 to a four. But I want a 3. (Really I want a zero, but I know that’s not likely.)

More flexion and extension: It went from super-stiff to moderately stiff. I want no stiffness.

More walking: Before, I couldn’t walk a block. Now I can walk half a mile. I want a mile.

More standing: I could stand through one hymn at church before. Now it’s 3. I want 4 hymns and the prayer. 

See how my heart works? No matter what I have, I want more. The Bible calls this discontentment. It also reflects a lack of gratitude for the improvement I do have. As I prayed about this condition of my heart, it dawned on me that I am not alone in this. Many of us struggle with discontentment, especially when we have pain or disability. In fact, I don’t know anyone who is truly contented in every area of life, at least if they are completely honest. So this leads me to believe that it is a part of human nature, and a result of the fall.

But let’s think about this for a moment. Discontentment seems to me to be in the same category as loneliness. Lonely people long for human companionship, and most of us would become lonely if we were isolated for a long period of time. I believe that God wired us this way so that we would long for relationship with Him. There is no kind of intimacy that satisfies like intimacy with our creator. God is also a relational being, as we see clearly from the relationship among the Trinity. Since He made us in His image, it makes sense that we long for relationship. So, as I see it, He has created us with a desire for relationship so that we will seek Him.

Perhaps this is true with contentment as well. Though discontentment is clearly sinful, I believe it is a twisted version of something good that God put in us—a desire for contentment—which would have produced a good and acceptable longing in our hearts if it had not been corrupted by sin. We always desire more. What if we could take our discontentment and shift it over to a desire for more of Him? What if I could recognize my desire for more pain relief, repent of discontentment about it, and shift it over in my thinking to desire for more of Him: More knowledge of the Holy; more intimacy with my Creator; more godly wisdom and love; more hope of heaven. These things would surely calm and comfort my heart in those desperate moments when I think I can’t live like this another day, wouldn’t they?

Saint Augustine said, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.” This expresses exactly what I was thinking as I wrestled with this most recent bout of discontentment. God has put a longing in our hearts, and we search everywhere for satisfaction of that longing. For me, the thing that distracts me most from longing after God is my desire for comfort, pain relief, and mobility. When I make that my God; when I seek my satisfaction in that, I can never be satisfied. There will always be pain in this life, and there is no guarantee for any of us that we will be able to stand, walk, or enjoy comfortable days always. But God has promised us Himself, and we can be satisfied in Him.

So, each day, as we drag our stiff and aching bodies from the bed, rather than asking the Lord for pain relief and renewed health, what if we asked Him for more of Him?

More love.

More hope.

More joy, peace, and patience with others?

These are things that are ours for the asking.

I am now determined to stay discontented, but not because I lack those things I said I wanted—more standing, walking, and pain relief. I’m planning to stay dissatisfied with how much I know my Savior, how much I look like Him, and most of all, how much joy I have, simply in Him. I am going to take all those things that have caused me such discontentment, and count them all loss for Christ.

Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.  ~Philippians 3: 7-11

Oh, to truly desire nothing more than we desire Jesus Christ: To tap into His power, to enjoy that sweet fellowship He offers in this life, and finally to be truly conformed to Him in every way, when we see Him face to face! What a day that will be, when we shout, “Hallelujah! What a Healer! What a Savior!”

Will You Join Me?

It has been a while since I’ve posted here. Life has gotten so busy! Counseling, administering online Biblical Counseling Training Program, writing for the Biblical Counseling for Women Blog, and keeping up some semblance of a personal life has me busier than I’ve ever been! Don’t get me wrong, I love everything I’m doing, but it leaves little time for documenting my personal journey of pain. I know that some of these articles have been an encouragement to many of you, and I don’t want to neglect any opportunity to be a part of that!

I’m writing today to invite you to help me keep Near To the Healer going. Some of you have written to me about your own personal journeys with pain, and they have been inspirational and encouraging to me. I’d like to ask you today, will you contribute? I would love to read any and all of your stories of pain, victory over self-pity, struggles to trust God with disability, or anything else that might be on your heart regarding your personal journey with physical pain and spiritual victory.

If you’d like to contribute an article, just drop me an email, with your article attached, at suzanne@ntth.gmail.com. Please include a brief biography, and how you came to experience your painful condition. The only content requirement is that your story is encouraging, and that it points the reader to Christ and the Word of God for comfort and hope.

I’m excited to hear from you!

In Christ,

Suzanne

Not Just The Spirit

Just as I’d begun to boast that I’d made it through a whole winter without catching any of the nasty bugs that had flown around, I began to feel a little off. Sneezing and sinus pain made their way into my picture seemingly overnight. I blamed it on allergies for a while, since our Missouri February had been unseasonably warm, and things had begun to bloom early. But, after a few days, it was clear that this was something more. Long story short, I’ve been battling a sinus infection for a couple of weeks now, and it has really knocked me flat!

Today is the first day of our annual B3 conference, and I am still not quite up to par. But, ministry does not wait for complete recovery, and I am very excited to get to participate; also grateful that the timing of this illness did not providentially prohibit me from going. However, this morning, as I prayed and read my Bible, I sensed some anxiety in my heart about how I was feeling physically. Still a bit “wrung out” and weary from the sickness, I wondered whether I would be able to make it through the rigors of a 3-day conference, and particularly my own workshop, for which I have been preparing for weeks. I asked the Lord to show me Truth about what was going on in my heart, and He led me to Romans 8:11, JBP:

Once the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead lives within you he will, by that same Spirit, bring to your whole being, yes even your mortal bodies, new strength and vitality. For he now lives in you.

I’ve always thought of this verse as being more about spiritual strength, but that phrase, “yes, even your mortal bodies,” really struck my heart today. I was especially encouraged by the promise of vitality. My dictionary says that vitality is the state of being strong and active. It is energy! That is what I have found so sorely lacking these last few days. I thanked the Lord for this word to me today, and also just for the fact that He brought such a personally relevant little phrase out of His Word, to encourage me in exactly the way I needed on this particular day. What a great Friend He is!

Almost as soon as I thanked Him for helping me, I knew that His gracious provision was not just for me. It is for everyone who suffers with pain, low energy, or sickness. All these afflictions fall in the category of weakness in which I found myself today. Many afflictions that have a both a spiritual and physical component, and I believe this applies to them, too. Friends who suffer from anxiety have rushes of adrenaline and other hormones that can cause rapid heartbeat, sweating, and shaking hands. Those who have ongoing sorrow or grief can have physical symptoms like low energy, insomnia, headaches, and the like. Many of you could offer details of your struggle that also would fit in this same box.

Dear friends, here is the bottom line: Whatever the cause of your physical affliction, take heed to this promise of your Father, who loves you. Does the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead live within you? Then you need to muster up whatever energy you can and praise Him right now, because, by that same Spirit, He will bring even your mortal body new strength and vitality. Spiritual strength and vitality are a given when we are talking about spiritual life. But physical strength is an extra blessing that we can also count on, according to this Scripture.

But what is the purpose of this strength and vitality? Is it just so we can feel good and have our energy back? I don’t think so. Remembering that any text studied without its context presents a risk that we may misunderstand the meaning, I had to consider the rest of the passage. I also know that God doesn’t always restore vitality in sickness (the death rate among humans is still 100%), so I knew there had to be more, and there is. Paul goes on to talk about living according to the Spirit, and putting to death the deeds of the sinful nature. 

As I read the passage, here’s what I came away with: God has called us to walk in the Spirit, not in the flesh. He has promised to give us His Spirit, which supplies the desire to obey His commands. He also, according to this passage, has said that He will supply the physical energy we need, to follow through with that obedience. The conclusion? We are never too physically weak to pass Spiritual tests. Just as 1 Corinthians 10:13 promises, God is faithful, and will provide the way of escape.

This is why feeling sick or being in pain is not an excuse to be cranky. Even in pain, God will give us the physical strength to restrain ourselves from saying unkind things or taking it out on our loved ones. By the same token, being weary or tired is not an excuse to bow out of ministry opportunities we could fulfill if we had the right attitude. I’m not saying we should press on when we have a serious illness or are providentially prohibited by disability, but in general, as much as we are able, we can press on through tiredness or manageable pain, to bring glory to God and to fulfill the ministries He’s assigned to us. We do need to listen to our bodies, follow medical advice, but sometimes there has to be a case-by-case consideration.

If we’re honest, you and I know that we are sometimes tempted because of our chronic physical condition in one of two ways: To use it as an excuse to get out of doing things when we are mentally or emotionally weak; or to give in to fear that it will get worse if we keep going in fulfilling a commitment. That second place is where I was this morning. But God didn’t leave me in that fear. He gave me this passage of Scripture to encourage me. More than that, I have His entire Word, along with a growing record of His faithfulness to me in many similar situations. He will provide the strength I need, not just to endure the conference, but to enjoy it!

As I finished my prayers this morning, I began to look forward to seeing students, former counselees, and colleagues that I haven’t seen since the last conference. No longer dreading it, I am excited to go, and to see how the Lord will work as my team and I minister to those in attendance. What a blessing and privilege it is to be in ministry! What a wonderful Friend Jesus is, to wipe out my fear and replace it with happy anticipation. Hallelujah! What an Encourager! What a Savior!

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[i] In case you’re looking it up, this phrase is not in the JBP that’s on Bible Gateway. I purchased the copy I have from a thrift store, and it says it’s the Revised Student Edition, latest copyright 1972.

New Pain, New Gain

Do you suffer from some type of chronic pain or disability?  If so, then you know that fearful sense of dread and doom when a new pain or weakness arises. Perhaps you’ve gotten used to your “new normal,” whatever that may be, and you’ve come to accept—maybe even embrace—your limitations. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, some new pain arises, and you go into a panic.

I don’t know about you, but for me, it would go something like this: “Oh, no! Now what? Did I do something to myself? (At this point I’m wracking my brain for how I may have overdone it at some point recently.) Is this a further progression of my condition? Is this something new, separate from what I’m already dealing with? What new medication or therapy will this require, and how will I fit that into my schedule and budget?” As I’m going through all these questions in my mind, my emotions are revving up, and if I don’t get a handle on them, this will become a genuine panic!

Before I even know what I’m dealing with, I can let my emotions take over. When that happens, whatever twinge inspired the whole thing has become genuine pain because I have become so focused on it. Thankfully, by the grace of God, it has been a long time since new pain inspired such a vortex of emotion for me. God has given me many opportunities to grow in this area, so today I’ll share with you three things that may be helpful to you the next time some new physical affliction surprises you.

Don’t be caught off guard.

That very surprise is the first thing you must guard against. Even those who do not suffer chronic pain must always be prepared for the physical degeneration of their bodies. After all, we are all aging, and, as Paul says in 2 Corinthians 4:18 (AMP), “progressively decaying and wasting away.” So, why are we surprised when something goes wrong with our bodies? Are we especially entitled to have no further pain or physical suffering, just because we already have a lot of it every day?

No, my dear sisters, we are not. Our chronic condition does not win us any special privileges when it comes to the decay of our bodies, so we should expect that these new pains will crop up from time to time. You will be pleasantly surprised at the reduction in fear and anxiety that is produced just by taking out the element of surprise. When you are prepared in your heart for the eventuality of more pain, it loses its power to frighten you.

Set your mind on things above.

Did you know that, according to Colossians 3, you have already died? If so, then what are you fearing right now? Think about it: Deep under the soil of panic over a health issue is that root fear of death. Yes, there are surface fears of medical interventions, increased pain, and decreased capabilities. But underneath those things is a common-to-man fear that inspires them all.  Christ came to take away that fear. Colossians 3 tells us that, as far as this world is concerned, we have died and our new, real life is hidden with Christ in God.

So why do we act as though we are still in bondage to that fear of death? I believe it is because we do not follow the instructions of Colossians 3. We don’t set our minds on things above. We have our mind firmly fixed on just one thing on earth: Our comfort. We forget that, because we have already “died,” we can now live our real life, which is hidden with Christ in God. We have put on the new man, who is renewed in knowledge according to God’s image. We must train ourselves to put off fear and anxiety, and put on that new man, who knows that death is no longer a threat, and God can be trusted.

Get on with life.

As we set our minds on things above, we will be focused on bringing glory to God in our response to this new pain. Instead of focusing on symptoms and relief, we can look outside of ourselves, and into a world where there is pain and sorrow on a level that, by the grace of God, we will never know. How can we sit and stew over some new pain, when others are hurting so much more than we? This is the only time I would ever advise you to compare yourself to others. No matter how much you hurt, there is someone who hurts more. There is someone who has fewer resources than you with which to address her pain. There is someone who has less help; more responsibilities; and more limited mobility.

Begin today to train your heart and mind to fix your eyes on things above, not on things of the earth. Every new pain presents an opportunity to choose: Either you will trust in God, or you will trust in yourself. You cannot do both. God is far more faithful, trustworthy, and good than you or I could ever hope to be. Let’s be prepared. Let’s remember that our bodies will age, and let’s expect new issues from time to time. We can exercise proper care of our bodies, investigating the cause of new pain, but let’s take the fear out of it! The God of the universe, who created your body and knows it better than you ever will, is fully able to lead you through the process.

If you’re still having trouble trusting God, take a look at this video, where my friend Joni, who has been in a wheelchair now for 50 years, will give you some encouragement!