Understanding

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alone Time

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

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

It doesn’t seem right.

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

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

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

Steroids

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beautiful Ending to a Good Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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