Glimpses of normal and not so normal.

I've been wearing my hair in a ponytail since January. Luckily enough, post surgery and through treatments my long hair could be maneuvered in such a way that I could cover the bald right side of my head. My own personal combover.

I had one  hair appointment before radiation at a salon. It was great, but also complimentary. (Commonly known as a cancer perk). The stylists normal price was $150 for a cut, $200 for color. So, needless to say I didn't go back!

My head has healed a lot from the surgical scar and there are awkward but beautiful bits of hair growing back in. I saw a great deal on a groupon for cut and color so I decided to take a chance.

Amazingly, the gentleman just had a brain tumor patient last week! He was kind, careful and attentive. He had to cut a lot of hair off because it was split and super dry from treatment. He cut it so that I can keep it down or put it up. He gave me some wild hairspray that's doesn't wear off all day. I was so happy when he was finished. 

I drove home looking again and again in the mirror, surprised to see my hair again. The haircut day was a special day, but most other days are plain and ordinary. 

On a different more ordinary day I was sitting at the dining room table and I got a side glance at my head in the mirror and I was quiet for a moment. I could see the scars and the still bald sections and it caused me to pause and even wince.

  

I do want to remember both the good and the bad and let it shape me and mold me into a person who seeks out God's strength in all times, because life is not only made up of Facebook photos and cheery days, but it's hard and sometimes  it's easier to hide. I also want to remember this journey to look back upon later to remind myself what I have been through. 

In a devotion I read last week, the author spoke about messy piles and how she hides her junk when people are coming over, the author said "there is comfort in hiding the messy sides of our life, it gives us a few seconds of pretending that life is ordered and perfect. Her poignant words-- there is comfort in hiding, but not peace." So today I celebrate letting my hair down, in more ways than one!

Regionals

Noah has been thoroughly enjoying his rock climbing team since he started in September. He has had a few competitions but we kept it very lighthearted and didn't even tell him his scores or rank.  He didn't ask and didn't seem interested so we figured that we would keep it fun for him.  There is plenty of time later in life for ranking and competition.

After two competitions, he had a good handle on the process. Mid season, the kids have a regional competition to decide who moves on. The competition is very serious. The kids arrive two hours early and are sent to a holding room. They have timed beginnings and can not see anything in the gym until their time. When they come out of the room they can only look forward at the crowd and not back at the walls. They have 4 minutes to climb the wall, having never seen it before. They are given points based on whether they slip, touch an improper hold, whether they get to the top and how far they make it. When the timer goes off everyone has to get off. The kids move to the next wall with their backs turned. Noah did well on the first two walls. On the third wall (out of 6), Noah struggled and got very frustrated. He immediately wanted to leave the competition and give up. It was so heart wrenching for me and I felt like I was going to throw up from my nervousness, I wanted him to succeed and feel proud.  

He moved on to the fourth wall which was even harder. He just kept falling out of anger and frustration. We weren't allowed to talk to him at all.

As he moved on to number five we all watched with surprise. This wall was almost completely horizontal and on a reverse incline with very few holds. All the kids were falling off but Noah couldn't see them because he couldn't look at the wall. He was just assuming he was the only one struggling. 

One of his good friends was cheering him on so fiercely and she started to tear up when she saw his frustration. She wanted to go and boost his spirits. 

As the competition ended we were really worried about him and then his coaches and friends rallied around him. Finally he could see the other climbers falling. 

The girls climbed next and he could cheer them on. He was so passionate and encouraging. 

Rock pclimbing is mostly a solitary sport,  but it was so clear that training together 3-4 days a week bonded the kids. This made me so happy. 

When we left we all went for ice cream and told him how proud we were that he didn't give up. 

I know it won't be the first time but it was so painful not to be able to help him. I know he had the strength and the ability to climb the walls but mentally he wasn't prepared to fail. 

We've been talking a lot about our inner voice and how sometimes we let the voice of defeat speak louder than other voices. Later that evening he came to me and said he realized he wasn't listening to the "can" voice. 

We talked a lot about digging deep when it feels like there is nothing left and we smiled and laughed about the day. 

I'm sure some day my kids will tell me to stop talking them to death, but for now they seem to enjoy our times of introspection. 

I'm sure we have many more competitions, more success and more failures ahead and I'm grateful for this stepping stone for Noah. 

Onward

I had my appointment last week. Of course I was nervous, especially when the tech said she needed a few additional scans. I met with my doctor afterward. He said the scans look clear and my blood levels are back at 100 which is great news. 

I asked him if the course was to continue with treatment or to stop. He didn't hesitate and said we keep going. They don't have studies for my diagnosis, but grade 4 tumor patients who complete 12 months have better results. If the treatment gets too hard I can request to stop. 

So here I am at the beginning of round 6. Half way. It seems daunting and I will have some huge bash when I'm finished round 12. 

All of this is balanced wonderfully by the fact that I continue to feel great and I feel like my life is full of normalcy and ordinary days. What a gift!!

It sounds cheesy but when I heard we were moving forward all I could think about was my friend Erin and I singing Onward Christian Soldiers from the old E and R hymnal at St. John's. We used to stand in our pew and march when we sang it. Though that really isn't one of my favorite songs anymore, I hold on to the smiles and giggles we had fully enjoying the song. We surely weren't aware of the great battles that were ahead for either of us, but every time I hear the word onward I am returned to a place of joy, ready to march on. 

So here's to a fabulous Christmas full of new life and great joy!

To see the big picture

It's been a long while since I posted. I have my next MRI and appointment on Wednesday at 1:30pm. I'm not looking forward to this round of chemo because the last one was incredibly hard. As the medicine builds up, the symptoms worsen. I remember the first month thinking it was cake. Last month I didn't leave the bed hardly at all and I was sick for the first time, which isn't so bad. 

The great news is that once I recovered, the rest of the month was full of energy and normalcy. I have felt fantastic. I traveled to PA for Thanksgiving without any fatigue or exhaustion. 

I have been feeling quite a bit of dizziness  which one doctor said may be a sign of damage to the ear from radiation. 

I have no new news about my blood counts and I will find out more about that on Wednesday, as well as the plan for the next six months.  

As I wrote my Christmas cards out, I was led by the word provision. I have felt very aware of all of the ways God has provided the support I need to get through this. 

I remember in the beginning during radiation, I was disappointed that I wasn't one of those cancer patients that was running a marathon. I have always had unreasonable expectations for myself and this was no exception. But even in the midst of that disappointment, God provided a group of my friends here in Seattle to encourage me to be part of a kettle bell class. Twice a week we meet with a trainer to lift and strengthen. I realized two weeks ago that perhaps I shouldn't be disappointed in myself and that this is quite an accomplishment even without cancer. (I would still like to run a marathon). In addition to the class itself, I have regular time with an amazing group of women which is so good for me. 

After all of this pondering my devotion this morning was about provision. It shared that the word provision means to see and that God's provision is based on God's ability to see the big picture, that of course we can't see. I felt connected and inspired through this message. 

Even as things are going well for me, my heart is heavier than before. My friend Bill, my brain cancer buddy, had some unusual signs in his last MRI and they are moving up his next one. 

A former parishioner of mine, Pete, who is a dear friend and even read scripture in my wedding with his wife, was taken to the hospital in November with a mass on his brain. He was operated on last month and then had complications from the surgery. He is at Hopkins recovering and he has a long road ahead. 

And lastly I found out last week that one if my youth group students from Oxford also has just been diagnosed with a tumor and awaits his path results following surgery. He is about 16. 

It seems impossible that all of this is happening and it brings me to a place of empathy and humility every time I think about it. 

Somehow in the midst of all of it, I do believe firmly that God does provide.  I believe God sees what we do not see and comes alongside us in the midst of these struggles and places perfect people in our path to be ministers, in all forms. In a world of increasing isolation, I am reminded daily how interconnected Gods family is and I am ever so grateful.

And so, as always I covet your prayers this week as I lay wide awake in bed wondering what Wednesday will bring, but I also hope that you will cast your net a little wider to include these other warriors, their families and friends, and also those around you who need you to come alongside them and encourage them to see God's provision. 

Shackles

Last week walked through the doors of the neuro-oncology unit for my regular monthly check-up. It's a very nice place with large windows and comfy chairs. I sat and waited for my appointment and I noticed a patient brought in by guards in a wheel chair. Peeking out under his blanket were orange prison clothes and his ankles were cuffed to the chair. Immediately my eyes welled up with tears. How on earth would you go through this in prison? It's hard enough with an outpouring of love from people I talk to often and a big comfy bed. I can't imagine doing this alone, in confinement. I recently finished reading Just Mercy, a fabulous book about the prison system in the US and the less than humane conditions of prisoners. My heart went out to him and I really wanted to go and talk to him but his guards stood in front of him.

When I was taken back for height and weight, he was wheeled in and the nurse asked if I preferred to step out in case I was uncomfortable. Of course I said no. It was totally fine with me.  When I went in to my room, my doctor noticed I was shaken and I told her why I was upset. She promised that they were taking good care of him. 

I believe there isn't a time in anyone's life where they can say they have never made a decision they regret. 

We are all bound by struggles and regrets. We are all prisoners to so many things, even if they aren't so visible. 

I remained jarred by this through my appointment.

As the doctor reviewed my labs she showed great concern. My platelets and white blood cells are too low to continue treatment right now. There is a normal rage, a low range and a range that is not safe to take chemo. I'm there. The doctor asked me to wait in the room for a little so she could review more information. 

That particular pause in her speech was terrifying. At every visit my concerns were calmed, as if to reassure a child after a fall that they would be fine. This was the first time in a long time that I remembered how serious this is. 

The great news is that they sent me home and delayed the chemo for almost two weeks. I went back already and had more tests done. The numbers increased enough to stick with the new start date a few weeks from now if my counts stay up. 

The things they are watching are platelets  and white blood cells. If platelets are too low, your body will struggle to clot blood and bruise easily. A cut could bleed longer from low platelets. Over the past weeks my legs have become a purple connect the dots game from low platelets. 

The white blood cells are the cells that fight infection. My doctor instructed my family and I to get flu shots right away and to keep my distance from people who are sick or germy (my word!).

Last Friday, I left the school building after dropping off Noah's Halloween costume with a broken heart. I couldn't stay for the party in a flu season room of elementary students. 

The tricky part about my medicine is that the Temodar (chemo) fights the cancer cells. However, Temodar has a slight risk of compromising bone marrow which in some cases leaves patients susceptible to leukemia. These cases are a small percentage of patients who take Temodar and highly unlikely. 

It is a tricky tightrope I am walking between health and sickness. It's incredibly hard to face the facts when I feel the best I've felt in years. I'm exercising, eating well, I've made many new friends, I love our church, I love the culture and beauty of the northwest and so it is easy to forget about what is going on in my body.  The handcuffs and the lab results and the endless appointments are all areminder to me that God sees my struggle, knows what I feel shackled to, and yet sees beauty in me. 

As grateful as I am to have maintained a relatively normal appearance and function, it is balanced by the fact that my internal feelings and struggles in this fight are virtually invisible. 

These thoughts always bring me back to my baseline. My struggle is no better or worse than yours. My outside sometimes reflects my inside, but sometimes it doesn't. The man wearing orange might be kind and caring, he might be transformed or wrongfully convicted, he might have done terrible things, but either way there is no doubt that there is more to our story than we can see by just looking. 

So, in the meantime, I'll enjoy the reprieve  from the heavy medicine. I go back for blood work frequently and I will have my next MRI on Dec. 2. It is at this next appointment that we will address whether my body needs a longer break or if we should keep going. 

As always, thank you for your love and grace and if you put the zucchini bread on my doorstep, thank you!

 

Nadia!

A few years back I read a book called Pastrix that I fell in love with. An edgy tattooed Lutheran pastor fell in love with God's message of grace and resisted the church she knew that only spoke of judgment. 

Last night she landed in Seattle on a 14 city book tour for her new book Accidental Saints. She wanted to name her book Purpose Driven Sinners but her publisher wouldn't let her. 

At First Baptist in Seattle she was welcomed by a packed church of young and old. 

She raffled tickets for $5 to win an old Christmas ornament, a DVD of a bad Christian movie, sheet music to the drummer boy, (as if there was a boy drumming in the manger) or a ham. It was really just for fun but the money raised went to support Mary's place, a Seattle city women and children's shelter.  We raised about $1900, the largest amount of any stop in her tour. 

Some of her lines from the night that I loved

--we have lost the plot if religion is the place we hide...it then becomes nothing more than spiritual candy crush. 

--too often church has become a place where we avoid and escape reality--Herod was trying to kill the innocents and we tiptoe around the murder of so many innocents in our society. 

-- institutions are often more interested in protecting their identity than living up to the vision of the institution. 

-- holy things we need are almost always the same as the ordinary things we need

-- church should be an hour a week when we don't have to pretend

-- asking can we pray honest prayers in church or just church prayers 

-- demons are only cast out through prayer 

--  the rapture is made up of bullshit (she was raised in the Church of God)

-- the manipulation of children and youth in vulnerable camp settings is a sin. 

-- Sin is the self curved in on the self, thus making ourselves our own God.

Of course she said a lot more and you may not agree with things she said but she is definitely worth a read for an honest and vulnerable view in faith. 

One older woman next to me raised her hand and said "I have lost my joy in going to church because I spend all of my time in committee meetings." Nadia answered--don't go anymore! She chastised "church" for exhausting people and families with the burden of meetings when people should be at home enjoying their families and friends. In her church there are no committees (there aren't in mine either) and she described a structure of working together and dreaming that is much more in line with faith and hope. 

It was a really energizing and fun night and made me miss ministry even more. I did feel so grateful for a thought provoking night out alone to think and process and listen. 

Round 5

According to the doctors i just finished round 5 of chemo. It seems like it has been so much longer than that, but then I remembered that I had 42 days of chemo before round 1 officially began! So even though it's been 6.5 months I can only say I'm 5 months into the year. 

Paul felt strongly each month would get harder as my body weakened. I thought it would get easier as my body got used to it. I think Paul was right. 

I moved my start date back a few days this cycle so I could help lead our church women's retreat last Saturday. It was really important to me to have that opportunity and to feel like I'm using some of my gifts in some way. I pretty much slept the week before the retreat, led, started chemo and then slept this entire last week. My naseau has increased greatly and most days last week I couldn't even look at coffee or most food. I even threw away a full pumpkin spiced latte! That gives you a sense for how bad it was!  We were more prepared this round and Paul got permission to work from home most of the week. That allowed me to rest more and he did a lot of kid errands. I'm noticing my taste buds are really off and I taste metal with most food. I hope that is temporary with the meds though some people experience a loss of taste permanently from chemo and radiation. I feel like the new seizure meds are helping and they have a component of lessening extreme responses. I was really struggling with quick movements and loud noises and it seems a little better. 

It's all just a balancing act that I don't have a handle on yet. If I try to get out, exercise and do things I like, then I spend days recovering and feeling completely wiped out. If I lay in bed I feel gross and sad. 

The theme of our women's event was Mercy Triumphs and it was focused on the book of James. We spent time in groups walking through personal trials and then moving toward giving and receiving mercy in our lives. It was such a powerful day. One of the takeaways for me was a point that I didn't remember to share! Nevertheless it made an impression on me.  It was this concept: if we look at our current trials and imagine possible long term outcomes of these trials, how would or could the outcome be different if we show up to the trial with a heart of mercy (as defined by a recognition of affliction and a desire to show kindness in difficult situations). In other words, how different could be the outcome if we depend and rely on Gods mercy in our trials versus our own accord?

As the room of 55 women buzzed with chatter I just sat in awe of how beautiful the community is that I am a part of and how blessed I am to still be learning and growing. 

It certainly helped me this week in bed to not be so hard on myself about what I can't accomplish right now, because too often my focus is on what doesn't happen instead of the goodness and grace that surrounds me. 

As always, I am so grateful for your prayers. I meet with the doctors again at the end of October to re-evaluate and check blood counts. I will have another MRI in November and then they will decide whether I keep going or not. I'm not sure what decision to even hope for so I'm just trusting the way will be made clear. 

Secret Clubs

I felt that after I became a mother my life changed in such a dramatic way... physically and emotionally, that I wanted to surround myself with other young mothers so we could process the joys and struggles together.  I could see how different my conversations were and how the experiences my body had been through changed the frame of my life.  I have often felt that way about my walk as a Christian because with some friends I can talk freely about my faith and about what God is up to, while other friends are uncomfortable in such a dialogue.

Shortly after my diagnosis last winter, I received letters from someone I don't know who heard of my story and she talked about cancer in this way, sharing that in many ways it is a club that nobody wants to be in, but nonetheless there is an understanding that is reassuring to speak with someone who really understands.

Of the many people that reached out to me, there was one woman at First Presbyterian... Becky Stalnaker who would send emails and letters of care and support.  Becky was a faithful and strong Christian who was active in many levels of the church.  She was a missionary, a Bible study leader, a delegate, an advocate, a wife, a mother and so much more.  She mailed me a gorgeous painting of First Pres that I had my eye on and a cookbook she found in her home that was hand written in Seattle.  She read my blog faithfully but apologized for not commenting because it was too hard for her.

While I was home in June I was struggling to get together with everyone who I wanted to see but I felt so compelled to make time to see Becky.  She had been battling Ovarian cancer for a few years.  I went to see her and for the first time since everything started last December I felt that someone really understood what I was going through.  She was candid with me, spoke openly about her feelings, about God, about how insanely hard this is and offered so much candid and honest wisdom that I wanted to sit with her for days.  

I received news this week that she was in hospice and I looked to Paul with sadness and said "I might never see Becky again..." I secretly hoped that for my sake she would bounce back and I could see her this winter when I am in PA again.  And then this morning I got a notice that she passed on last night.  

Today my heart hurts for a lot of reasons, mostly because I am confused about my desire to rejoice for a life so well lived, a life so focused on God and justice and service, and my sadness about this strange club that I'm in.  I'm grateful to know her and yet I know she would be so candid in agreeing that this isn't a place anyone wants to gather.  

So instead I'll bear witness to the breath of God that she was to others and I'll remember to be a stronghold for someone else who is looking for a voice of hope and truth in tough times.  

Post Month 4 Results

Yesterday I had my bimonthly MRI and appointment.  Per the doctor's words, I am stable.  There is no visible growth and they are continuing to monitor the white thick area around the tumor cavity to see if it is scar tissue or new growth.

My blood counts are iffy.  My white blood cells and platelets are now both below acceptable ranges.  The doctors are just going to continue to monitor the counts to see if they continue to drop.  If it gets too low then they will regroup and consider putting a hold on the chemotherapy.  In the meantime I just have to steer clear of germs and sickness, get a flu shot, and be careful.

The very far off risk in the blood counts is that the type of chemo I am on has,  in very rare cases, caused leukemia, so it is important to be sure that my bone marrow can handle the medicine.

Each month I've had odd episodes that seem unrelated to everything else that is going on, but after reviewing them, my doctor feels the incidents are seizure activity.  I sometimes feel numbness in extremities, feel chest tightening, shortness of breath, surges of pain in my head, etc.  The incidents are generally isolated and don't occur often, but are noticeable.  So, the doctor is changing my seizure medicine.  She also recommended an evaluation to see if I need more rehab services because my ability to handle multiple stimuli, loud noises, crowds, etc. is not good.  I'm also finally headed to an eye doctor next week to get a new prescription since my vision has changed quite a bit.

It was a good visit.  It is the news you want to hear at a visit.  But somehow, just going to the doctor and seeing the images and talking about it all is difficult anyway.  It just reminds me that I am indeed still sick, even if I don't feel that way most days.  Because my struggles manifest in fatigue, mental confusion, memory loss, and internal symptoms I spend quite a bit of time "pretending" everything is fine.  Or you can say I'm living life as normal.

We talked again about course of treatment and I will continue on the Temodar for two more months at which point I will have another MRI and then we will sit and discuss whether to keep going or not.  At 6 months it is important to see if the benefits of continuing outweigh the harm that the medicine can do to the body.  We were reminded that there are no studies comparing 6 month or 12 month course of this treatment, just doctor's preference and personal tolerance.

Thank you to the many people who reach out to me on MRI days to see how it went, who hold us all up in prayer, and who check in regularly.  It lifts my spirits and reminds me of the interconnectedness of the web of life.  I am grateful.

House progress

We've been working very hard on the house and it's easy to feel like our to-do list is never ending. Today I took some "now" pictures. I won't say before and after because nothing is at a point of "after," instead it's all in progress!


Before we could move in we had the entire house rewired which was it's own disaster.  The knob and tube wires spliced with new wires and the wires were tied in the wrong spots at every outlet.  The electric company would not even turn the power on because it was so much of a hazard.

We had to up our service amperage from the pole because it wasn't sufficient and the previous owner had the electric running illegally into the house around the meter.

We had to have a gas inspection before they would turn on the natural gas for the hot water heater.

The front window was cracked in half and so that had to be replaced.

The house had rodents living in the walls so we had all of the insulation removed in all of the walls and had new insulation blown in while the rodents were chemically evacuated.


Exterior

Before

First Floor

The previous owner had several German Shepherds and the floors were destroyed.  Paul refinished the hardwood floors.  

 After

Basement

The basement floor was concrete and Paul installed a water barrier and pergo floors.

Paul also created a sealed crawl space in the basement under the kitchen floor for storage.

Trim

The woodwork in the house was stained a dark color.  We heard many people criticize the idea of painting it, but it was so dark I hated it.  We (mostly Olivia) painted the trim a bright white and it is so much more cheerful!

It's not finished yet but it's well on it's way.

Before

After

Living Room

The living room was a dark brown color.  We painted it a light beige and also painted the trim.  

The Kitchen

Before:  The kitchen was a dark  yellow with non-functioning appliances.  We painted the kitchen and replaced the appliances.  Paul ran a gas line to convert the stove to gas and he installed a new faucet to replace the leaky one.  He also installed a new garbage disposal after the current one exploded on us.  

Noah's Bedroom

Before:  This room is a loft that we are in the process of putting walls up around.  It is a good enough size for a bedroom.  It was painted dark gray and also had the same dirty carpet.  We painted the walls white, removed the carpet, and painted the floors (Under the carpet upstairs it was just subfloor. The wood on the second floor was not hardwood but just a plywood type base)

Master Bedroom

Before:  The master was dark brown with gross carpet and had large holes into the crawl space.  We removed the carpet, painted, installed new lighting, sealed the holes and painted the floor. 

Maeve's Bedroom

Before it was a dark blue.  It had a floating vinyl floor on top of red painted wood.  We removed the vinyl, painted the walls, and painted the floor

Bathroom


Before:  A deep spa tub that was really gross!

Paul removed the tub and tile and put in a new shower with subway tile and a new glass shower door

Guest Room


We ripped up the carpet

Office

Again we removed the carpeting in here.  What isn't visible in these pictures is that these rooms were FULL of boxes and junk from moving and now they are functioning spaces. 

     

Currently, I'm still getting boxes unpacked and put away.  Paul is installing  new door in the kitchen as I type.  He is 80% finished the basement bathroom.  He installed a new tub and walls down there and is ready to begin tiling.  Our "handyman" is coming next weekend to repair the front steps that are broken and we have several contractors coming this week to talk through the issues with the front porch again.

So, for those of you who have asked for progress updates there you go!!!!!!

Friends who bear burdens

As I'm trying to get this place together I find myself making more and more bins of "memories." Beyond the kids school photos and preschool art, I have piles of cards, letters, pictures, posters, and more that remind me of different sacred moments in my journey. I even found a can of spam the other day. I am pretty sure I preached a sermon about spam or about how I had never had it and someone bought it for me. It's still there unopened. This morning's devotion for me was from the book of Galatians and it was about friends. I really miss my good, strong friends these days. I can't possibly name names but I really truly miss you. And in the midst of that bit of sadness I am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am. You have upheld me in so many ways in my life and continue to do so and I know you always will, whether I am sick or I am well. Your texts and notes that let me know you are continuing to pray for me are so meaningful and life giving and I know that God is using you to help me. So, enjoy this devotion, thanks for being this friend and hopefully we can all do this and be this to others. Happy Friday!!! Carry One Another’s Burdens Text: Galatians 6:1-18, James 5:19-20, Romans 15:1-7, Hebrews 12:3, 2 Thessalonians 2:13 Carry one another’s burdens; in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. – Galatians 6:2 My best friend lives 2,000 miles away, on the other side of the ocean. (But we live in Hawaii, so that’s true of a lot of our friends!) Throughout the week she and I send texts back and forth, full of emojis, scripture, encouragement, and real-life struggles. We preach truth to each other, because sometimes you need to hear the truth from someone other than yourself. She’s my most encouraging friend— always holding me up when I fall, and always reminding me of God’s truth, His promises, and His faithfulness in all circumstances. I can be gut-honest with her, and she can be the same with me. In Galatians 6:2, Paul encourages us to, “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” He had just finished telling the Galatians to love each other, to put away the things of the flesh (like jealousy, envy, divisions, and hatred. Anyone been there? I sure have!) and to put on the things of the Spirit (like love and patience and kindness— you know, all things that make for a sweet friendship or relationship). Then Paul gives us this command: bear each other’s burdens. The thing is, life is hard. Not all the time, for sure. There are so many things to give thanks for and to rejoice in, laugh at, and rest in. But there are days and seasons of life that are just flat-out difficult. Devastating. Heartbreaking. Gut-wrenching. You may feel alone and abandoned, overwhelmed and anxious, fearful, stressed, or heavy-hearted. You may feel hopeless. But God, in His ever-gracious, all-loving, and all-knowing way, gives us each other to do life with. This life is not meant to be lived alone. Yes, God has given us Himself, which is the greatest gift of all. He’s also given us His Word, which is chock-full of His promises and stories of His faithfulness and character. His Word empowers me, fills me with hope, and gives me strength and courage to face those hard days. He gives us prayer. I know I can cry out to God all day, every day. He is so sweet to us! But He ALSO gives us friends. Friends who listen, who let us ugly-cry in front of them, and who help us regain perspective. Friends who remind us of truth and hope when we ourselves don’t believe. Friends who pray for us when we’re too weak and give us grace when we fail. Friends who know when we’re sad and hurting, and press in to ask us why. Friends who bring us coffee when we’re having a hard day. Friends who send us a card across the ocean just to let us know we’re loved. Paul is telling us here to be that friend. Be that friend to your friends, to your family, to people new to your neck of the woods, to people a bit younger than you and a bit older than you. Be that friend to your brothers and sisters in the body of Christ. Not only is this beautiful, but it fulfills the law of Christ. The law of Christ is not a set of rules, a list of dos and don’ts. It’s not about going to church, or reading your Bible for so many minutes a day. The law of Christ is to love others as He so abundantly loves you. Jesus gets so much delight and glory when we love those around us— when we think of them, serve them tangibly, and get on our knees to pray for them. Friends, we have been set free to love. To give ourselves. To bear each other’s burdens. May we do that today.

falling in to place...

Ha ha... get it? falling? It's fall! Ok, I know that was really corny. In any case, we've had a few great weeks and it feels like we are all doing really well. I haven't been able to say that in a long while. This round seemed to affect me greatly during the 5 day pill cycle, but the following fatigue has not come on as it did in the past. For this little reprieve I am incredibly grateful. I've had energy to be outside, walk and run. I'm not crashing as much and I actually feel a little clearer. I'm enjoying a few extra days with the kids before school starts (on Thursday!) and I am making headway on the house. Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers and encouragement. I feel really well loved and cared for. I also have great news to report that in random sections my hair is growing back! Most people don't know I lost any hair because of how I wear it in a ponytail, but a large section on the right side of my head was completely bald. In random little spots it is growing back in. It's patchy and interesting where it is growing, but this kind of new growth I'll welcome! I long for a day when I can wear my hair down again and maybe that will happen sometime but it isn't terrible the way it is. I hope you'll continue to join me praying for healing and keeping the tumor at bay, for my friend Bill who returned to the classroom teaching last week, and for my friend Jamie who had the seizures this year... her community is rallying around them and holding a 5K this weekend to raise money for brain tumor research. Enjoy your fall!

Almost back to school

I have been waiting for the kids to get back to school because I knew I would finally have time to unpack everything that has been piling up. It has been eating away at me to have everything scattered all over the house without any order or system. I kept September 9th as the day when I would begin to get the house together. Our teachers have been in talks with the school district for months and months and we knew that there were unresolved issues and so it turned out that the teachers decided to strike. We support them and believe their decision was the right one. Today was actually quite an enjoyable day. Noah had a friend over and Maeve went away with a friend so it was kind of like I was alone anyway! The summer has been full of many twists and turns in our life and we have felt very unprepared for some of the challenges in our path, but today I felt such a great calm about everything. Noah made a competitive rock climbing team for kids age 9-19. He will practice 3-4 times a week and it will be difficult, but he is very excited and is happy to have something he loves. Paul is excited about that too and wants to climb with him when he can. Noah's classroom assignment puts him in a room with his best buddies and I am so grateful for that. Maeve is starting a new gymnastics academy and local soccer. She also wants to sign up for Daisies so she and I can have a special activity together. I finally convinced Paul to sit down with me and do some planning for schedules and food and chores and I think we both feel so much better about the fall and what is in store. Paul and I both have retreats (men's and women's) coming up at church that we are excited about. There are some other great things in process that we are praying about and hoping will work out. I realized a few months ago that I was always drawn to the seasons of the church because I could handle things for a season. I played basketball in high school and I loved that it was short sprints back and forth and not a constant run. I like new beginnings and new things. I like change. I like a time to regroup an a time to finish! And so in the church I was always drawn to Advent and Lent as times to really focus, at least for a short while, on one idea, one concept, one book and then finish and move on. I'm hoping and praying that this new season gives us some stability and clarity and a little bit of peace. I am very focused on this time and grateful for fall. The leaves are changing here and it is cool and refreshing. Pumpkin and apple and nutmeg are on the way and I can taste the warmth of my afternoon tea in my favorite mug on a rainy PNW day.

Vacation, drive home!!!

We woke up Saturday to a wild wind storm and we lost electricity. We packed up to head home. Long the way we passed through Astoria which is where the goonies was filmed. We saw the rocks and the house before we stopped at the Rogue brewery for lunch. Outside the brewery was a rocky shore covered in deals that serenaded us!!

Round 4, in process

I took my last round 4 pills this week. I'm learning to change how I phrase things. I was about to say I finished round 4. The reality is that I take 400 mg. for 5 days and then I spend the rest of the month dealing with the side effects of the chemo. For some reason I seem to do okay during the actual pill time and then when I am finished the fatigue starts to grow and grow each day. This round I felt particularly nauseas which was new for me, but subsided when the pills were finished. Over the past few days I have felt very strong headaches and dizziness but it isn't consistent and it isn't all the time so I'm just giving it some time to see if it goes away. At my doctor's appointment last week he noted that my platelet count was low, but that was the first time. I'll have my blood checked again on day 21 of this cycle. Low platelets isn't a huge deal. It just means that my blood might not clot as quickly or that I will bruise easily. If my numbers drop too much they will consider suspending the next round of chemo. I meet with my doctors again on October 1st at 9 AM. That day I will have my bi-monthly MRI with blood work. Those are the days I covet the most prayers. I turn into some sort of anxious monster the week preceding those tests and I am filled with trepidation as I wait each time for the results. I know that God is with me through it all and God has been so faithful to me and calmed me so many times and reminded me that I shouldn't fear, but alas I'm human and it's difficult. Paul keeps walking around saying I only have two months left and I keep correcting him because we don't know yet what the course of action will be. I would love to be done in two months. The thought of having energy again, the ability to make it through a week fully awake, the desire to go outside and run and play with the kids... I started to get excited about the thought and the more I looked the more I found that outcomes are better with a 12 month course of Temodar. It will be interesting to see what the doctors say. I thought I found a good study last week comparing the different outcomes, but I can't find it anymore. The hard part is that my instincts are that they will tell me it is my choice. Because I have good genetic markers and I haven't had a terrible response and because they don't agree on the grade of my tumor, my guess is they will leave the decision up to me. This makes it much harder! I am going to ask for the studies and see the difference in prognosis myself. In the meantime, I'll rest.

Vacation, Day 8 Rockaway and Tillamook

We woke up our second to last day to clouds and rain. We decided to head to Tilamook factory nearby to see the cheese and ice cream production. The portions were huge and it was great! The skies were clearing and so we headed back to the beach for our last evening!!