Because He lives

"Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!"
~William J. Gaither

This was the chorus Mackenzie sang Sunday evening in church that gave me great comfort and reminded me of the movie Bob and I finally watched last week, "The Bucket List." It was an overall good movie, but there was a particular scene that has occupied my thoughts because of the marginal significance it was given in the film. The characters played by Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson are flying over the Arctic and as they take in the magnificent view, the two terminally ill men begin to talk about the future. Freeman's character says he is not afraid because he has faith. He doesn't go into detail about his faith, but Nicholson's character responds that he is proudly faithless. He says this life is all there is, and after you die it's the end of the story. The wheels on the bus keep going round and round - someone is born, someone dies, and there is no great meaning behind any of it. His companion asks, "What if your wrong?" And Nicholson's character replies with his sly grin, "Well then I win!" And the men turn back to the window view.

The movie goes on, but I was stuck at that exchange. This faithless character thought by ignoring the possibility of a God, he could ultimately win. How is that conceivable? I believe with all my heart, mind, and soul that the one true God sent His son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross to pay the deserved penalty for my sin and the sin of countless others, so that whoever believes in Him can be forgiven and spend eternity in heaven with Him. I don't see how there could be any other way to live without fear in the assurance that you will reach heaven. If the way to get to heaven is by living a good life and doing good to others, how do you ever know you've done enough? Can you ever feel secure that you've reached that unknown standard of some kind of good to bad ratio where your benevolent deeds outweigh your selfish ones, or must you constantly live facing the risk that you just might not be good enough? Does each blemished action detract from your worthiness of heaven? Just what is the measure of goodness to qualify a person for heaven? In Matthew 5:48, the Bible states the standard, "Be ye perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." Alright, I think most people would agree with me that this is impossible. I know for a fact that I, for one, am far from perfect. I think this is where many people, like Jack Nicholson's character who just wanted to pack as much fun as possible into life, jump ship religiously. Religion requires far too much of us and takes the fun out of life. I would argue that these people are missing a major component of Christianity, but without that element, I can see how they would get turned off. I can see how it may be more appealing for them to believe there is no God and no ultimate accountability. Now there is no need to worry about perfection, but instead they are free to live for their own happiness. But what about people who take this idea to the extreme? If there is no God, then every person can define right and wrong for himself. The Manhattan pastor Tim Keller poses this question to people who claim this conviction, "Is there anyone in the world right now doing things you believe they should stop doing no matter what they personally believe about the correctness of their behavior?" The answer is invariably, "Yes." The fact that we desire justice according to some moral code that is not defined by us, but must be answered to regardless of personal beliefs is one of many strong indications that at heart we are all created to know there is an accountability and a power beyond ourselves. There is a multitude of clues like these that, when examined, suggest that we know there is a God, and we know actions will be judged.

Now if we acknowledge that there is a just God, and we know that His standard for us is perfection, yet we are imperfect, how is all of this reconciled? Of course, in Christianity, we call these imperfections sin. Romans 3:23 begins this way, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," and since we know God is just, this sin must be punished. Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death." Because of our failure to meet God's standard of perfection, we all deserve to die an eternal death. We deserve to never be joined with our Creator in heaven, but to live forever apart from Him. However, the same Bible that tells us of these severe consequences, also tells us in 1 John 4:8 that, "God is love." These two great attributes of God - His perfect justice and His love - converge in the solution provided for us through His only son Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ, who was fully man and God, lived an entirely sinless life, but died in our place to pay the terrible price for our sin. Isaiah 53:6 explains it this way, "We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." Jesus was a blameless man who was tortured and died for the sins of the world, but unlike other men, Jesus was also God and able to overcome this death by coming back to life. His physical resurrection is a foreshadowing of the resurrection God offers to everyone who trusts in Christ's sacrifice for their salvation. In Christ, we have no reason to fear death because it is not the end of our story; it is a beginning to our eternity in heaven. Earlier, I quoted a portion of Romans 3:23. The continuation of the passage is this, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in His blood." How beautiful that we have a Lord and Savior who not only offers us an eternal place with Him in heaven despite our unworthiness, but He does so by suffering on our behalf, so that anytime we face anguish, we know we can turn to a God who understands our pain in an entirely literal and courage-inspiring way. This has been especially comforting to me as I face cancer with a God who has been through physical pain and death.

All we have to do is acknowledge that we are sinners and believe that Jesus interceded on our behalves so that we can enter heaven. It is truly that easy. But if we choose to ignore God and just hope for the best when we die, Jack Nicholson's character was heart-breakingly mistaken. We do not win. We lose. We lose in the the most monumental and final way possible. And yet it is so easy to win eternal life through a relationship with God. This is the way that we can live without fear of the future and experience the fullness of joy God has intended for us. John 10:10 says, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." I pray that none of you will put off thinking about these things until it is too late. I pray that you will recognize your own innate perception of justice and love, which we all experience because we are made in the image of our just and loving Creator. I pray that you will believe in the saving sacrifice of Jesus Christ. I pray that you will win.

"And life is worth the living,
Just because He lives!"

A sister is a forever friend.

The comments and cards are pouring in again and I'm so thankful! I especially love hearing from those of you who were very dear companions in my past with whom I have sadly lost touch. Getting reacquainted with old friends is one of those especially heartwarming experiences in life. I don't think it is a coincidence that the resurgence of encouragement from you and a remarkable boost in my energy came at roughly the same time, which was just before my sister Jody's visit from Kentucky.

With our father, mother, and sister all passing recently from cancer, Jody took an astounding 17 trips to Wisconsin and Florida last year to be with her family, which should give you an idea of the kind of dependable and caring sister she is. By now she's made more support visits than she could count on her fingers and toes and still never seems to be suffering from jet lag! Her high energy has gotten me out to lunch, to the mall, and cruising along the beach - all out of my pajamas I should add! Jody said my family and I have got to be sick of the same few pairs of pajamas I spend most days in now, so she's taking mine back to Kentucky and buying me a fresh set! We have shared all the laughter and tears you would expect between two sisters separated by distance, and I'll be sad to see her go. One of the funniest parts for me was watching Bob, Erin, and Mackenzie join Jody for her 3-mile walking exercise video. I sat back and chuckled as I watched the crew do kickbacks, knee highs, and grapevines across my living room while the girls harped on Bob for hanging in the back so he could cheat. Bob was sweating and smiling as he sat down to enjoy a chocolate cookie after exercising.

I've been thinking lately about an apprehension I felt when I first learned of my diagnosis, and which I know some of my friends who have been through cancer grappled with. When I knew I would lose my hair, I wondered how people would receive me. I thought they would stare and make me uncomfortable. But every time I stepped out of my house, I was surprised to find I didn't receive a second look from anyone! It seems cancer has in some way touched the lives of most people in our time, so a woman with no hair is hardly shocking anymore. Instead of feeling self-conscious about my new look, I felt completely accepted. There's no reason for the effects of our treatment to cause us to hide away, because cancer has become a worldwide issue that people are aware of and empathetic toward.

In fact, I found I was the only one giving myself a second look - every time I passed a mirror. Who is that old woman?! All the reader's in my generation will understand what I'm talking about. I think I know the radiant beauty I'm going to see, but when I step in front of the glass I see someone's grandmother! But the grandmother is starting to become more familiar to me, and now I usually don't need a second look. I don't know if this growing recognition of my mirror image is a good thing or a bad thing, but I thought it was a fascinating process, so I've included it for your reading intrigue.

I was able to rejoin my friends at art class last week where I talked with some of them about their own experiences with cancer. I lamented my growing fatigue to them, and they said, "If your treatment is making you feel this way, just think of what it's doing to the cancer in your body." I like that outlook. My cancer should be pooped-out by now! And they assured me that as I stop the chemo, my energy will be fully restored.

So with future restored energy in mind, Bob and I are making plans for after Steve and his family's visit next week, starting with the boat day we've pencilled in with friends on Bob's birthday!

Daydreams of a New World

I had to add a couple more pictures of Annabelle's fashionable clothing made by Gram, and then one of lunch with the ladies in my blonde bombshell wig to celebrate Erin's last day of school since she teaches 5th grade.

I can't tell you how much I've appreciated the outpouring of love I've received since my last post! It couldn't have come at a better time either because this has certainly been the toughest phase of my cancer yet. But now, as I'm enjoying a banana split in place of dinner, (trust me, it doesn't happen often) I'm feeling better and can catch you up. I don't know if it is the wear and tear of multiple chemo treatments on my body, or just the cancer itself, but my observable health has worsened over the past weeks. After a couple episodes of physical illness spread out over a few days, I spent a full 24 hours Sunday through Monday evening vomiting at least once an hour. I had trouble even keeping down sips of liquid, so we called Dr. Segota's nurse who suggested I come in Tuesday morning for IV fluids. I'm taking all the anti-nausea medications they have to give, so unfortunately there isn't much they can do to stop this symptom. But I was glad we made the appointment for IV replenishments Tuesday morning because I woke up so weak I thought I might pass out walking from the house to the car. Mackenzie held my hand for support as we got to the hospital and we spent the day in infusion with the familiar nurses and volunteers who are always personable and gentle in their duties.

Thankfully the vomiting stopped and the intravenous fluids perked me back up, but my energy has remained lower than usual. Little tasks like wiping a spot from the floor can leave me winded. Each time I lay down to catch my breath, it is a blessing to open a card or read blog comments from loved ones rooting for me. I hope you all know how much your care rallies me.

Of course when you hear you've got terminal cancer, you start to spend a little more time thinking about what lies ahead after life. I've been daydreaming of what's in store for me. Bob and I have been looking up what the Bible has to say about heaven...and it's not much, which made perfect sense when I gave it some thought. I've often compared human comprehension of heaven to a baby's understanding of the world while he's still in his mother's womb. If you tried to explain to that baby fetus that it would have to eat and breathe to stay alive when all he's known is the nourishment of an umbilical cord, or tell him gravity would hold him to hard surfaces when he's been floating in amniotic fluids, or describe to him any multitude of the visions and sensations he would experience in a new world in an instant, it would be unfathomable to him. However, the moment he's born, the baby adapts perfectly the the experience he could have never imagined. Although he could not have anticipated what awaited him outside of his mother's body, he was made for this world and has been equipped with all he needs to thrive in it. That's the best way I can understand heaven. When all we know is this mortal world, how much could we understand of an eternal world completely beyond and apart from its realm? Even though I know next to nothing about heaven, I trust God that it is there and I have been perfectly created to live an unending life there.

I know and am thankful that many of you are praying for my healing, and of course I would cherish more years with my family and loved ones if God chooses to give them to me. But at the same time, I don't have the desperation to live that it seems many people expect me to have. My life has not been a fairytale, but I also have no regrets as I think back on my years. I have taken advantage of every stage of life, so like I've said before, I have no bucket list or unfulfilled dreams. It helps me to be at peace with either living or dying. Truthfully, if I do enter heaven soon, I am incredibly thankful for the way God is allowing me to finish my time on earth. We have had family members die in car crashes and other tragic accidents, and I think those are the hardest deaths to deal with. There is no closure. No preparation. No goodbyes. God has given my family the great blessing of time. And as a mother, I am grateful that I can be here to help my children prepare to live without me. I know now is the time to teach Mackenzie all the traditional family recipes. Now is the time for Steve and Dawn to have Emma's birthday party in Florida instead of Virginia so I can be a part of it. It is the time for Erin to get more than an earful of my financial advice, and the time for Shannon and her kids to stop by almost every day. This is really a precious time for us. My mom and dad used to come stay with my family about 6 months out of the year, and even though that was a lot of time to spend with them, I would cry every time they packed the car to drive back to Wisconsin. I didn't want them to leave, but I knew they had to go home. And I was comforted to know that soon enough we would be taking our summer trip to Wisconsin and we would be reunited again. That's how I see the time I have with my family now. My visit on earth may be coming to a close, and it makes Bob and my kids and me cry to think of saying goodbye, but we know that eventually I need to go home. And they will all come stay with me soon.

Is anybody out there?

I had another round of chemo on Tuesday, so now I'm smack dab in the middle of the difficult days following treatment. I spent all of yesterday in bed with what I would describe as a "skullache." It's different from a headache because I actually feel the pain in my bones. My eyes were also sensitive to light, so I tried to sleep as much as possible in my dark room to pass the time. My teeth were hurting again this time around, so I filled up on applesauce, bananas, and the like. I have been fortunate this far to have experienced only one instance of the vomiting that you often hear comes with chemo, but it came back last night and then woke me up this morning. A red bucket is my best friend today.

I am also a little lonely because my daughter Shannon has a cold, so she and her baby girls won't be able to come over for a while since I'm supposed to avoid sick people. Most of the day it is just Mackenzie and me in the house, and we enjoy each other's company, but we've both heard all of each other's stories at least a hundred times! I need fresh ears to appreciate my riveting tales!

All that being said, I miss you! Where have you all gone? When I started this blog, my reasons were many. One of them was a hope that others who experience unexpected suffering could feel encouragement reading along and knowing they were not alone. Another reason was so that I would not feel alone either! I have been blessed by your comments on this blog, cards in the mail, phone calls, and emails - probably to the point where I've taken them for granted. I want you to know how much those small acts serve to lift my spirits and rejuvenate me. The seventeenth-century English writer Joseph Addison is often remembered by this quote, "Friendship improves happiness, and abates misery, by doubling our joys, and dividing our grief." You have all done this for me, and especially on these days when I'm feeling a little down in the dumps, I pray that you will continue to do so.

I can't wait to hear from you!

An end in sight!

We had another oncology appointment with Dr. Segota last Wednesday where we discussed my chemotherapy treatment. She said studies of patients in my position show that they live longest and most comfortably when they receive a limited number of chemo treatments rather than continuing them indefinitely. This is because eventually the detrimental effects on the body outweigh the positive. Medically speaking, curing my cancer is not a possibility, so Dr. Segota wants to stick with the plan that shows the best quality and length of remaining life for patients with stage 4 lung cancer. So after two more cycles, we will stop the chemo, and I will continue to receive Avastin and Zometa, which are drugs that have already been a part of my treatment which inhibit the development of nourishing blood vessels for the tumors and prevent complications from the cancer in my bones, respectively. After my last chemo treatment, which will be June 17, I will undergo tests to gage the current status of my cancer, and these tests will be repeated every three months. If there is unexpected tumor growth, or I show poor symptoms, we would consider repeating chemo. I immediately felt relieved and encouraged to hear there was an end in sight to these chemo cycles. I can't imagine how people deal with the ups and downs of this treatment for years. I have been getting chemo every three weeks, so I've become used to this schedule where I feel awful for the week after treatment and then alright for two, but I am eagerly looking forward to the time when my health will feel more stable.

Discussing finishing my chemo cycles and the limits of medicine again reminded me of God's sovereignty in my life. He is in control of this entire situation, and it may very well be that I do not have much longer to live. I still believe that if God chooses to heal me, He could defy all medical odds and do it, but if He doesn't, I am happy to rest in His plan for me. Taking me home to be with Him in heaven is not exactly a consolation prize to healing me here on earth! It is the ultimate joy, so I have a great peace and in fact a yearning to experience it at the time God has planned for me. Knowing that my cancer is this severe has encouraged me to live more fully in the time I have left on earth, so in that way it has been a great blessing for me. I take little for granted and am thrilled by all the inspiring and even the more mundane aspects of daily living. I feel fortunate that God has given me this time to gain some perspective and live in a more fulfilling way.

The Biltmore Mansion was as impressive as I expected, and we had beautiful weather all weekend. We got to tour the home, vineyard, and gardens. Bob and I found everyone who worked at the Biltmore to be personable and well-spoken and were impressed by their dedication and pride in their jobs. One of my favorite parts was striking up a conversation with a gardner who had worked on the estate for nine years and whose father had held the same job before him for his entire life. He had fascinating stories to share about George Vanderbilt, who had built the mansion, and his family and servants who had lived there with him. I was amazed at how progressive and cutting edge the bachelor Vanderbilt had been when he built this dream home. The entire place was constructed out of concrete instead of the usual wood to prevent fires, but there was also an intricate fire alarm system installed throughout the estate. It was also the first residence in the US to run on electricity and have home telephones. He not only created a home noteworthy for its size, but also for its top of the line and advanced design. As I mentioned last week, Bob had reserved a wheelchair for me so I wouldn't exhaust myself with the tours. We discovered that crowded, unfamiliar tourist attractions are probably not the best places to get accustomed to pushing a wheelchair. We were knocking people over left and right, and while my legs never got tired, I ended up with some souvenir neck pain from Bob's daredevil navigating.

Annabelle and Addison have been able to have some extra sleepovers at Gram's the past few days, and they keep us laughing. The other day Annabelle was curious about all my new hats since I've lost my hair and asked, "Gram, why do you wear those hats all the time? Is it so birds don't poop on your head?" She had no clue why I cracked up, so I explained to her that I hadn't thought of that specific benefit to headwear. She gets to sleep with Gram and Bob when she stays over, and she has taken to wearing a nightcap too to be more like Gram. She is completely adorable.

Memorial Day having just passed, I have to tell you all how proud I am of my son Steve who enlisted in the Navy seventeen years ago. I am so thankful for the selfless service of Steve and the many other military men and women who have taken up this sacrificial profession both now and in past generations.

Weary Bones

I have been feeling the cumulative energy loss from repeated chemotherapy over the past week, and a few days ago I was also feeling pain, which I hadn't experienced in a while. We called Dr. Segota's nurse, and we decided it was time to up my pain medication which solved that problem. It is two weeks after my latest treatment, and the major side effects have worn off except for the tiredness. We had "Fake Mother's Day" on Sunday because most of the family was out of town on real Mother's Day (if you started reading around Christmastime, you'll realize my family has a thing for fake holidays), and I woke up so tired I spent much of the day on the couch while we enjoyed family time. It took a lot out of me just to speak above a whisper. Everyday is not that severe, but I am feeling more overall fatigue.

Bob and I have planned a trip to North Carolina this weekend to see the Biltmore Mansion, which is something I've always wanted to do. I am excited for the vacation, but we've decided it's the last major out-of-towner we'll be planning for a while since my fatigue has increased. Bob has reserved a wheelchair for our tour so I can sit most of the day and relish any special treatment that comes my way because of it!

My sisters and I are trying to finish up the loose ends of settling my parents' estate, which is necessary, but difficult. I still miss them everyday, and sometimes I can feel an actual pain in my chest because of how hard this is on my heart. I have been reminded, though, that I pass on a great deal of my parents' legacy to my kids and grandkids all the time without even realizing it. Yesterday Annabelle wore one of her new Grandma-made outfits to school and when everyone complimented its adorable design, she responded like a well-trained parrot, "Thank you, my grandmother made it." It was a page right out of my own childhood as I remembered my mother drilling that phrase into me, "Thank you, my mother made it."

I've included a picture of Annabelle playing with her Doodle Bug in the outfit so you'll understand why it is so important that I receive credit for the style!

Mother Knows Best

I have made it through another round of chemo and am still shocked at the different symptoms each time. Since Mackenzie was out of town, Shannon rearranged her schedule in order to take me to the chemo infusion, and my caring friends Suzi and Norma shared the responsibilities with Bob and Erin of keeping me comfortable in the following days. In fact, Suzi was so committed, she wouldn't leave the house when Erin arrived for her shift - we later found out Suzi has no cable at home and had gotten addicted to our TV. But everyone was very sweet to me and helped me through the hard few days I always have. The strangest symptom this time was that my teeth became loose and actually wiggled! When Erin checked the internet we found that is a side effect of chemo. My teeth are back to normal now, but I was eating only soft foods for a little while. The only residual effect is a metal taste to all my food.

This Mother's Day was a beautiful time of reflection now that the baby of my four children is 23 years old. I have always been so thankful that I was born a woman and get to experience all that comes with it - especially motherhood. But as I thought back on the way each of these four lives began, I realized there is not a single pregnancy I could call convenient. Motherhood - sacrifice, selflessness, unconditional love - begins at an exact moment. The moment you find out you're pregnant. For me, it meant the end of my fairytale life. It meant dropping out of college during my senior year after so much of my parents' money and my own hard work had been poured out to get me a degree. It meant disgrace on my family, a speedy marriage, and a rocky start. Then came Steve - tiny, colicky, constantly crying Steve. I could actually understand those mothers who end up throwing their baby out a window, but God gave me the grace to survive those first few screaming months. The other beginnings were not without complications either. When I was pregnant with Mackenzie, many of my days ended by 9:00am. I got up, my sciatic nerve from my Polio acted up, and I got back in bed.

As I raised four kids, I learned that if you aren't having a major struggle with one of them at the moment, you can trust it's just around the corner. Whether they're throwing their dinner plate on the floor from their high chair, or you're driving around in the middle of the night searching for your teenage runaway, it is a continuous rollercoaster. I often tell the story of waving goodbye to my long haired, pierced-eared Steve as he got on the plane to Marquette University and then falling to my knees and thanking God for sleep away college. I believe the job of parents is to lay down a foundation of love by providing steadfast rules for their children, and their children's job is to try every way they can think of to challenge those rules. During the times of greatest struggle between myself and my kids, I kept in mind that we were both just doing our jobs, and I had to trust in God that at some point we would come out the other side of the battle.

I wish each one of you could meet my long haired, peirced-eared Steve now. He is a buzz-cut, Naval petty officer first class, God-fearing role model of a man. Bob has joked about the way I brag on Steve saying, "Oh right, I forgot, Steve walks on water," but the more he sees of Steve, Bob says he's beginning to believe he really might be able to do anything. Steve spends most of his time on a ship of seamen and doesn't even curse! Can you imagine how rare that is? A sailor who doesn't swear! Beyond that, Steve is consistently at the top of his class, he holds Bible studies, he and his wife have spoken to youth groups about their commitment to abstinence until the day of their marriage, and he is an example of patience and love as he fathers beautiful Emma.

My second-born Erin is also characterized by a selfless commitment to the Lord. She is the picture of a godly woman. It is amazing that in this family of teasing and sarcasm, you will never hear a harsh word from Erin's mouth. She is filled with love and compassion beyond what I can understand. And she has an admirable self-reliant zeal for life. My sweet Erin's hands became lethal weapons when she received her brown belt in karate. She has travelled to Japan, Korea, Europe, and all over the US because she has that great "yes" attitude. But one of my favorite joys in my first daughter is that as she has grown-up, I have found one of my dearest companions who I am always thankful to travel alongside.

My teenage runaway, Shannon, made it through her wild days and settled down with a good husband who is helping her raise two adorable daughters. I'll admit I get great satisfaction when I find her doing the same things with her kids she swore she would never do while she was growing up. I was tickled when she asked me to sew matching outfits for her girls, which was a plague to her existence and the cause of many tears when she and Mackenzie were little. Shannon takes the same joy in being a mother that I do, and I love to watch her hands-on approach with her girls. She and John have erected a butterfly garden and a goldfish pond in their backyard to teach the kids about plants and animals. Shannon loves kids so much, she uses her athletic skills to coach junior high girls' volleyball in the evening. But I am most proud of Shannon on Sunday mornings because I know, without fail, exactly where I'll find her. She and her kids will be in church and Annabelle will have a new memorized Bible verse to tell us in the afternoon.

And then there's Mackenzie - the most obstinate of my children. She calls it headstrong; I call it a pain in the butt. Mackenzie started running this family the day she was born, and she still does. It is not easy raising a kid who is determined to raise herself. Mackenzie was never really a baby and started handling her own life very early on. She is a thinker and a perfectionist. I think she misspelled her first word in the sixth grade which meant she did not get a perfect score. You should all be thankful you were not around for that day of slamming doors. But with this thinking perfectionism comes a great deal of wisdom. Mackenzie makes good decisions, and as she grew up, compassion joined with her wisdom to make her a counselor. She not only gives insightful, Biblically based advice, but she lives as an example. There used to be a joke about getting in tough situations and thinking, "What would Mackenzie do?" I would have never thought with Mackenzie's left-brained approach to life that she would pursue a career in the performing arts, but I knew with her determination she could make it happen. The blessing of motherhood leads to moments like I had last night when Mackenzie was singing How Great Thou Art in church and I wanted to stand up and scream, "That's my daughter!!"

My point is that there will never be a time in a woman's life when a pregnancy is convenient. It means everything you have grown accustomed to will change. You will have to say no to yourself a lot, and you will have to say no to your kids a lot - which can be even harder. But God promises in Romans 8:28, "And we know that in ALL THINGS God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." That means he can use a pregnancy like my first, which came from a bad decision at a terrible time, to create an incredible person like Steve who has positively enriched my life and the lives of countless he has met through God's divine purpose. And it means that Steve could fulfill his dream of becoming a father through adopting his marvelous daughter Emma because someone else was brave enough to have her baby at an inconvenient time.

I had the privilege of counseling at Hope Pregnancy Center for a few years, and I found that often it was not just the young girls considering abortion, but it was their parents pressuring them not to have their baby. Pregnancies and trials in parenthood may come to us unexpectedly, but don't believe they are unexpected to God. He has purposefully created each child as a gift whether you can see it that way in the moment or not. The Lord speaks repeatedly in the Bible about children being a blessing to their parents. Believe Him. I am telling you this because I have been through the unplanned pregnancy, the sacrifices, the baby smearing its poop on the wall, the screaming matches, and the other hardships that come with motherhood, and I would not go back and change a thing. I am so thankful for these four utmost blessings God has brought into my life. And frankly, if you know my kids at all, you'll have to admit God and I do pretty good work!

Staying the course

It feels so good to have answers! Today we learned the results of my PETscan which showed that the cancer in my bones has not grown, meaning the chemo is working! Thank God! In fact, while most of the cancer hot spots in my body are about the same, some of my lymph nodes have improved. It was so freeing to get this news. No biopsies and hospital stays to plan, no more testing, no new burdens to bear. I can stay on the same course we've planned, so we've scheduled my next three rounds of chemo and will retest in nine weeks. The relief I feel after the appointment today reminds me of school days when I would hand in my final paper. This thing that's been weighing on my mind for the past week is suddenly lifted, and I am free to focus on anything else, which in this case, means I got to sew Annabelle another adorable dress. She's in a butterfly phase at the moment, so she loves the purple dress with butterflies and ribbons decorating the skirt.

Bob and I sat by the water at Houston's tonight to celebrate our good news after visiting the grandkids. It was so nice to breathe easy and enjoy the tranquil Florida twilight. I am thankful for your prayers that the chemo would work in my body and that God chose to answer them in this way.

Some of you may know that Mackenzie recently graduated college with a musical theatre degree and plans on moving to New York City to put her training into action. She has postponed the move to see me through my cancer, but occasionally still has commitments in the Big Apple. So this week while she sings in a showcase in New York and I receive chemo on Tuesday, I will be counting on my loyal friends to take care of me when Bob, Shannon, and Erin need to be at their jobs. I know I am blessed to have such willing companions and truly appreciate all the kindness I continue to receive. Keep it coming!

The Waiting Game

I didn't hear about the tornadoes in Virginia until late last night, but once I did, I couldn't sleep until I knew Dawn and Emma were OK. My son Steve is often out on his Naval ship, while his wife and daughter are home in Suffolk. Yesterday afternoon, three tornadoes tore through southeast Virginia destroying homes and injuring hundreds. When we finally spoke to Dawn, she said she and Emma were on their way to Wal-Mart when they saw cars whipping past them in the opposite direction. She was bewildered until she looked ahead of her and saw the enormous grey cloud. She immediately turned around and drove to her neighbor's home, who is an EMT, and ran inside with Emma, leaving her car running and its doors open. They waited inside, frightened, while the tornado touched down two blocks from their home. The damage left behind is devastating. Houses in their neighborhood have been obliterated, but Dawn said she was thankful the tornado came while most members of the families who live in those houses were at school or work. While the twisters caused a legion of injuries, they did not cause fatalities, and I am so grateful for that. Please pray for the people in Virginia affected by these tornadoes.

The past week has been difficult for me. It reminds me of the beginning of this process, when all we knew was that I had cancer, but we had to wait and wait for any more answers. We're back to testing and waiting. I had my PETscan done yesterday, but I won't get the results for days. I am not very good at waiting. I find myself jumping to conclusions and self-diagnosing. In that way, this blog has been very good for me. As I look back at posts where I tried to guess what was going on with my cancer, instead of waiting for those answers to be provided, I was almost always wrong. I have to laugh when I see that, and it helps me not get worked up about the horror stories I read on the internet as I research the possibilities. One thing I've heard from Dr. Segota and from my internet research is that with growing bone cancer comes growing pain. That is my biggest concern at the moment. I am not very brave in the face of pain. Please pray that God will quiet my anxieties. I know He has a plan for me, and answers for every worry I have. I need His help to rest in that knowledge.

One way I've been helped through this unpleasant waiting period is by my dear friends. For almost thirty years I have had a circle of friends who have become my Florida family. We call ourselves the "dinner club" and we have seen each other through the best and hardest of times. I have always had a soft spot for anything I like to say is, "so ugly, it's cute." So about a dozen Chrismases ago, when I couldn't afford a Christmas tree for my house, the dinner club showed up with the most misshapen, gawky, adorable pine tree I've seen and said they picked it especially for me. We have stuck by each other through thick and thin, and they are again here for me at the drop of a hat. As the years have gone by, some members of the club have moved, remarried, or had changing circumstances that have made it so we don't get together as often as we used to. But when I called to say I needed a reunion this weekend, everyone showed up. Here we were, passing around pictures of grandkids that are the spitting images of the kids we had when we all found each other thirty years ago. We invested so much time and love in everyone's families, it was wonderful to hear updates on all the kids now. The great thing about old friends is you don't have to say much for them to understand what you're feeling. We get each other - even if it's been a while. So we talked about my cancer a little, but I didn't have to say much because I knew they were right there with me and they will continue to be. Special friendships like these are some of God's greatest blessings.

Another group of friends that has blessed me is our Bible study group. It has been a while since I have been involved in one, but in divine timing, they called to invite us into the study just as Bob and I were learning about my diagnosis. It has been a wonderful time to build new friendships based on our relationship with God. One of our friends from the group and a fellow Wisconsonite, Buzz, treated us to dinner last night which was a wonderful distraction from the waiting period I'm struggling through. Buzz is a particularly inspirational friend for me because I know the Lord has seen him through incredibly hard times. Hearing his stories reaffirms my faith that if he can endure hardship, I can too.

I am again feeling a little unfocused and unmotivated to do the things I love. It's all part of the up and down cycle of this trial. I think it has a lot to do with my difficulty in waiting for answers from the PETscan. It's hard to get excited about a project when I feel like I'm in limbo. My mind is tired. One of my good friends knew a woman well who received my same diagnosis around the same time as me, but chose to forgo treatment. She has already passed away. That puts things into perspective for me. I don't spend a great deal of time thinking about the severity of stage 4 cancer, but now and then I am reminded of it. It takes a great deal of energy to fight off a disease this big, so if I need to spend a few days in bed from time to time, I'll take them. I am always praying that the Lord will give me strength and restore my energy for the continuation of my treatment so that I can continue to live for His glory whether He gives me months or dozens more years on this earth.

A surefire way to lift my spirits when I get a little down is a visit with the grandkids. I get lonesome for their hugs and kisses, so yesterday I took everyone out for ice cream. Then we headed back to John and Shannon's home to see their new butterfly garden, play in the hose water, and goof around.

The Verdict is Still Out

We met with Dr. Segota this morning to learn the results of yesterday's tests. The CTscan showed that the cancer in my lung is stable, meaning it's the same size or slightly smaller. The same is true for the cancer in my lymph nodes. This is really good news! The progress in my bone is a little less clear. Originally, the cancer in my spine and pelvis was detected by a PETscan of my torso and MRIs of my head and spine. Yesterday, they performed a bone scan to gage the size of these cancer lesions. The results of the bone scan gave Dr. Segota suspicion that these lesions have grown, but it's hard to know for sure since I didn't originally have a bone scan, so she is comparing the current bone scan to an older PETscan. She could make a more accurate judgment if she was comparing the same test, so I am having another PETscan on Monday afternoon. That way she can look at the results from both PETscans to determine if the bone cancer has grown or is stable.

My next chemo treatment was scheduled for Tuesday, but it has been postponed until we know the results of my new PETscan. If the bone cancer is stable, we will continue the same chemo plan I was on. If it has progressed, we will have to discuss other options. The one Dr. Segota mentioned to us today is a clinical study that 10% of people in my situation are eligible for. For those who qualify for the study, it has been 90% effective. We set up another oncology appointment for next Thursday, so hopefully that is when I will have more answers.

I see the effects of your faithfulness in uplifting me to God everyday, and I am incredibly grateful. James 5:16 says, "The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective," and your prayers on my behalf have been both, so please continue your support.