1,576,800

How do you measure a year? or 3?

That’s how many minutes are in 3 years; 1 Million, Five Hundred seventy six thousand, eight hundred minutes.  And we have felt Jesus with us during each one.  It’s hard to believe that 3 years has passed since October 5, 2018 when our lives came to a screeching halt and the days moving forward would seemingly never look the same for us again. In the beginning we were living moment-to-moment.  It took every ounce of effort we had to just breathe through to the next minute, anything beyond that was too much for our overwhelmed hearts to handle.  God’s Word tells us to Be Still and we did- truthfully it was all we could do or the roaring of fear would swallow us whole. God was faithful to carry us through each moment- the ones of extreme terror, immense pain, many setbacks, fatigue as well as the elated joys of small victories on this cancer journey. 

Time has a way of marching on.  Everyone else’s world continued spinning during those 6 months when time stood still for us.  We had a bit of catching up to do once we came back into the hustle and bustle of life after treatment and surgeries. Some had moved on, some were still there loving us and checking in on us, but life was different because we were different.  We had to find a new “normal.”  It hasn’t been easy and truthfully has been really lonely at times.  Our perspective is different- worldly things that seem to matter so much to some, don’t carry the weight for us.  Sometimes it makes it hard to relate.

Though time has launched us to the three-year mark (we can hardly believe it has been that long), there are moments, smells, sights, sounds that bring us back to that place (triggers are rarely convenient)- the uncertainty of it all.  We live with that uncertainty daily.  You can’t journey through what we did and be certain of many things, health specifically, anymore.  There are days that it still feels like I’m in the midst of people moving all about me in warp speed and I’m standing still, like they do for special effect in the movies sometimes. 

Panic

I had scans right before I went back to work for the 2021-22 school year.  I tried to not allow fear to rule me, but this time felt different somehow.  I truly was terrified that my scans may not be clear.  I made it to the 6^th floor of the MD Anderson building to meet with my oncologist.  I couldn’t move beyond a few steps off of the elevator.  Air wouldn’t come into my lungs.  It felt like I was in the ICU again when they told me I had cancer.  The world had shrunk down to what was right in front of my face.  Craig prayed over me and finally I felt like I could draw a breath.  Scans days are very hard- you sit and wait and then wait some more once you are in the room.  The doctor makes small talk, all the while your heart is racing wondering if the next words out of the doctor’s mouth will change the course of your life yet again. 

Thankfully, my scans were clear and there was talk of lengthening the time in between scans at that appointment.  My emotions were so all over the place that I couldn’t bear to post about it or write about it.  I felt the weight of the heaviness of the journey.

Heaviness is all around us these days. The past year and a half have been so heavy!  So many I know lost people they loved dearly.  No longer were the tragedies that you heard about were concerning people you didn’t know- they were your childhood friend’s parents, your best friends, people you went to church with, people you saw all the time. COVID has ravaged our world and so many are walking out lives that will never be the same, lives they never envisioned for themselves.  Anxiety is at an all time high- my students are struggling, and work is heavy most days. We all are feeling it- living in 2021 is markedly different than life was in 2019. 

Perspective

Shortly after these scans, Lysa TerKeurst came to Jacksonville.  You guys know that her book It’s Not Supposed To Be This Way was a huge help to me in the midst of treatment.  My heart was feeling a little lost, lonely, and struggling.  Leanna Crawford was there leading worship and wow, the atmosphere- I felt like God was right there beside me.  Lysa TerKeurst said so many things that resonated with my heart and I’d like to share them with you.  (For those of you who don’t know her story, she went through a separation with her husband who wasn’t faithful and shortly after was diagnosed with breast cancer.)

She said something that was so profound that it shook me.  She talked about Matthew 5:1-12 and Mark 14:32. Mark 14:32 states, “Then He said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death.  Stay here and watch.”  “His soul was overwhelmed with sorrow.  Jesus had ALL the answers and Jesus was still overwhelmed with sorrow.  It’s not the answers that will fix us.  It isn’t about seeing the future.”  We so often feel like if we could see the future then we will be okay, we will be able to make sense of the pain and suffering that we walk through.  Jesus knew ALL things and still His heart was overwhelmed with emotions, even to death.  She also stated that “Enough trauma has happened to me that I know the worst-case scenario can happen. But I mustn’t forget to keep my eyes on the Master.  He is good at being God.”  Profound, yet simple truth.  2018 was an incredibly difficult year not only for myself and family, but for many I dearly love.  We know that the worst-case scenario can happen- those instances don’t negate God’s goodness.  He can and will use the trials and worst-case scenarios in our lives to mold and shape us into someone He can use for His kingdom.  The trials are when we feel God’s presence the most.  I have a heaping dose of survivor’s guilt, a heavy load for a very empathetic personality, and it is a battle that I deal with constantly.  It is hard to celebrate the miracles that we have seen when others aren’t walking out the answers to prayers that they desperately wanted.  Sometimes it is hard to wrap our minds around when healing doesn’t come this side of Heaven, when the miracle begged for doesn’t come to fruition.

There is a new song by Cody Carnes, Too Good to Not Believe.  If you haven’t heard it, I will link it below.  I encourage you to listen to it. The song proclaims all the miracles that they have seen God do on earth.  I truly believe that if you look for God everywhere, you will find His fingerprints everywhere.  Lysa TerKeurst said at her conference that when she starts doubting God or only seeing the unanswered prayers, she proclaims, “God you are good.  You are good to me and you are good at being God.” He still is a miracle-working God!  God can and will use your trials for your good, even when you can’t see how.  Good oftentimes means favorable to us.  That isn’t always the case- good to God means to move you to a place or heart-position that He can use you and your life circumstances to reach other people for His glory.  We can often find our ministry through our valley.  

Through your trials, God will change you, change your heart, your priorities; you will look different.  Another statement from that evening that brings tears to my eyes every time I read my notes is: “With God things will be different, because I am different.  I have looked that fear straight in the face and by God, I survived.”

Do you hear what I hear?

I had scans on Wednesday and Thursday of this week followed by neuro-oncology and oncology follow-up appointments.  The scans came with challenges, which they normally do.  I made it through an MRI with two IV sticks and one that wasn’t cooperating during the test, being put into the machine 10 minutes before it even started and without having Jesus music blaring in my ears.  If you prayed for me on Thursday, thank you from the bottom of my heart.  That is the only way I stayed in that machine for the whole test!  Bless it!  You would think that after having 30+ of these scans, that I would be okay with them by now.  Nope, not so much. 

My brain oncologist is very cautious to the point of being uncertain of everything.  Craig and I have to pray specifically that God will only allow us to hear what He wants us to hear and nothing else because we have found that Satan will take it and run with it.  On Thursday, he told me, “Your brain looks as good as it can for someone in your situation.”  Ummmmm?  What does that mean?  He always tells me that, “You know we don’t really know how long we should scan and watch after treatment.”  Not very comforting coming from the leading neuro-oncologist with MD Anderson in the southeast.  Craig and I have seen God work in ways that are completely unexplainable medically, so we strive to only hang onto what God has done and can do rather than the “I have no idea’s” from the medical community.  He is the only one who sees the future and we trust that whatever comes our way, He will be with us and will take care of us.

Thank you for your continued support and prayers for us on this journey.  We do well to live in the in-between.  You carrying us to the foot of the cross is how we have made it this far.  We are so grateful that my scans are yet again clear- we give God all the glory for His continued miracles!  They have moved my brain scans from every 4 months to every 6 months and my chest/abdomen CT scans and blood work from every 4-6 months to every 7-8 months.  We truly can’t fathom how we are here, the place where scans are even this far apart.  I am grateful but truthfully very nervous that they are further out and we aren’t looking sooner.  It’s such a Catch 22.

We know fully well that there are so many within our circles that are walking through difficult trials- newly diagnosed with cancer or diagnosed with cancer yet again, recently widowed, losing a child, walking through health battles with a loved one, divorced.  Pain and trials are no respecter of persons. Please join us in praying over these precious people and their journey- that God would be a tangible presence to them and that He would, as He always does, carry them through.  Also pray that God would put people in their paths to be a blessing to them- delivering a meal, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen or to help carry that person’s burden as they walk alongside. Maybe that person can be you or me. 

Cody Carnes: Too Good to Not Believe. Let’s proclaim God’s goodness and the miracles we’ve seen, even amongst daily tragedy.