About one year ago my symptoms began to appear. We had no idea the journey that we were about to begin, and it would take another three months before we would have the diagnosis. Looking back over the past year, it is obvious that God has placed each stepping stone in our pathway and securely placed our feet on each stone along the way. Early on I prayed that God would place the right people in the right place at the right time to help us deal with cancer. This has been an amazing journey, and God has been faithful to answer this prayer.
One of the first people that God sent my way was a dog. No, I mean a REAL dog. At our house, dogs are people too. Pepper came along the morning after I was told that I had Stage IV lung cancer. I just needed something to laugh about, and there came Pepper bouncing into the water fountain. I never thought watching a dog try to catch water as it spurted from a fountain could supply such joy. Even today, I still smile when I think about Pepper going from spout to spout trying to catch that water.
Another person that God used was my Gamma Knife nurse. We were introduced the day before at my pre-operation appointment. On my way out of the clinic, she said that she would see me bright and early the next morning. I replied with, "You be sure to get a good night's sleep." She thought that was pretty funny, but early the next morning, there we both were. She escorted me all morning and pushed me all over the hospital. She was Johnny on the spot all morning with information about what was happening and what the next step would be. She seemed to sense that I needed information to deal with the situation and that silence was not good for me. During our talks, I learned that she is not a Christian and no longer practices the faith she grew up in. She now is on my prayer list.
When I had to be admitted to the hospital after my third chemo treatment, God sent another nurse to minister to me in a special way. After seeing me reading my Bible, she shared with me a message she had seen on television that day about healing. She looked at me and asked if I had faith that I would be healed. When I replied, "Yes," she walked over to my bedside and placed her hands on my chest and then prayed for my complete healing. I doubt they teach that in nursing school.
To prepare me for the clinical trial, I was treated to a day of tests and scans. One of the scans was a bone scan. I had not had a bone scan before and was concerned because it seemed like each time a new test was done, cancer was found somewhere else in my body. After completing the bone scan, I went for blood work and an EKG. When I entered the room for the EKG, I noticed a Bible on the technician's desk. As I was beginning to lie down on the table, she asked if I believed in God. When I replied yes, she asked if I would like to hear some music. When I said that I thought that would be okay, she started a song on her computer. I don't recall the title of the song, but it was about how great God is, and I was reminded that no matter the outcome of the bone scan, God would not be surprised and had the situation under His control.
There have been friends and family members who just seemed to know when I needed a phone call, text, or an e-mail for encouragement. Others have brought us food and nourished us both physically and spiritually. We will never be able to thank them enough for standing with us during this time.
God has taught me over the past year that He will answer prayers at a time, place, and way of His choosing. I look at people differently now knowing that God has placed each one of them in my path for His purposes.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Sin and Love Held Him There
He had led them back to the garden. Whenever He wanted to be alone and pray, this is where He would go. They had just finished the Passover meal, and He had washed their feet. There had been an exchange between Him and Judas; Judas had run from the room and had not returned.
Now Jesus and the remaining eleven had returned to the garden. Eight of the disciples had stopped to rest. Peter, James, and John went on ahead with Jesus. Jesus told them to watch and pray and then went on to pray by Himself. A short while later Jesus returned to find them sleeping, and He encouraged them again to watch and pray. They could tell by the way Jesus looked and acted that He was in anguish. But they still couldn’t stay awake, and he returned again to find them sleeping. He woke them and told them that His time was at hand.
They could see the mob coming up the hill. Judas was leading the mob, and Jesus went out to meet them. Judas stepped forward and kissed Jesus on the cheek, and the mob moved to arrest Jesus. Peter leaped forward to defend Jesus and pulled his knife, slicing off the ear of a servant. Jesus admonished Peter to put away his knife. He didn’t need Peter to defend Him. If He wanted to, He could call down the angles in heaven and they would lay waste to the mob, but that was not His plan. Jesus was led away by the mob to be tried.
Jesus didn’t defend Himself at the trial. He was led from place to place, beaten multiple times, mocked and spat upon. And still no retaliation would come from Him. He was made to carry His own cross until His strength was gone. The Roman solders nailed His hands and feet to the cross, and the taunting continued as they gambled for His clothes. Look at Him there, hanging on that cross. Blood pouring down His face from the crown of thorns pressed into His head. His body bloodied and bruised from the beatings. His shoulders have been dislocated and His legs strain to keep his body upright, gasping for air. Jesus Christ was experiencing complete and total humiliation.
Would He call the angels now? The angles had to be ready, incensed by the treatment of God Almighty by a world that didn’t deserve Him; they could have come and taken Him back to heaven where He belonged. No, He would not call on the angels in heaven. He stayed there on that cross, but why? What held Him on the cross? The soldiers? The nails? None of these kept Him hanging on the cross. It was the sin of the world, your sin, my sin, and His love for us that kept Him there. Isn’t it amazing that while hanging there on that cross Jesus Christ could see my face and know that the only way I could enter heaven was for Him to die on that cross, and He chose to do it any way?
Now Jesus and the remaining eleven had returned to the garden. Eight of the disciples had stopped to rest. Peter, James, and John went on ahead with Jesus. Jesus told them to watch and pray and then went on to pray by Himself. A short while later Jesus returned to find them sleeping, and He encouraged them again to watch and pray. They could tell by the way Jesus looked and acted that He was in anguish. But they still couldn’t stay awake, and he returned again to find them sleeping. He woke them and told them that His time was at hand.
They could see the mob coming up the hill. Judas was leading the mob, and Jesus went out to meet them. Judas stepped forward and kissed Jesus on the cheek, and the mob moved to arrest Jesus. Peter leaped forward to defend Jesus and pulled his knife, slicing off the ear of a servant. Jesus admonished Peter to put away his knife. He didn’t need Peter to defend Him. If He wanted to, He could call down the angles in heaven and they would lay waste to the mob, but that was not His plan. Jesus was led away by the mob to be tried.
Jesus didn’t defend Himself at the trial. He was led from place to place, beaten multiple times, mocked and spat upon. And still no retaliation would come from Him. He was made to carry His own cross until His strength was gone. The Roman solders nailed His hands and feet to the cross, and the taunting continued as they gambled for His clothes. Look at Him there, hanging on that cross. Blood pouring down His face from the crown of thorns pressed into His head. His body bloodied and bruised from the beatings. His shoulders have been dislocated and His legs strain to keep his body upright, gasping for air. Jesus Christ was experiencing complete and total humiliation.
Would He call the angels now? The angles had to be ready, incensed by the treatment of God Almighty by a world that didn’t deserve Him; they could have come and taken Him back to heaven where He belonged. No, He would not call on the angels in heaven. He stayed there on that cross, but why? What held Him on the cross? The soldiers? The nails? None of these kept Him hanging on the cross. It was the sin of the world, your sin, my sin, and His love for us that kept Him there. Isn’t it amazing that while hanging there on that cross Jesus Christ could see my face and know that the only way I could enter heaven was for Him to die on that cross, and He chose to do it any way?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
More Than I Can Handle
"Remember, God never gives you more than you can handle." You have probably heard someone say that or possibly even said it yourself. I know that I have had people say it to me these past several months. I would say the majority of them have been Christians offering me words of encouragement. If you have said this or thought it, then I am probably about to offend you, because I don't think this is true.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then why do I have cancer? Just ask DeLayne; I am an absolute wimp when it comes to just having a cold. I don't like going to the doctor, much less having needles inserted in my hand and arms for blood draws and IVs. If DeLayne were not along to keep the ever-changing schedule straight and take care of all the insurance paperwork, I would be in one big mess. I cannot handle cancer by myself.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then what is the role of the friends and family that have hoisted us on their shoulders while on their knees in prayer? If I could handle this on my own, there would not be any need for the people who have rallied around us to offer us support and food at home and in Houston. No, I can't handle cancer by myself.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then what role is there for Jesus? If I were able to fix this on my own, exactly when would I learn to depend on Jesus? Jesus Himself said, "Come unto Me all of you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28) I am so thankful for that invitation. There are days that cancer and all that goes with it just overwhelms me. No, I can't handle cancer by myself.
There is another saying that I have heard. "If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it." I have changed that to, "If God brings you to it, He can carry you through it."
No, I can't handle cancer by myself, but I don't have to.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then why do I have cancer? Just ask DeLayne; I am an absolute wimp when it comes to just having a cold. I don't like going to the doctor, much less having needles inserted in my hand and arms for blood draws and IVs. If DeLayne were not along to keep the ever-changing schedule straight and take care of all the insurance paperwork, I would be in one big mess. I cannot handle cancer by myself.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then what is the role of the friends and family that have hoisted us on their shoulders while on their knees in prayer? If I could handle this on my own, there would not be any need for the people who have rallied around us to offer us support and food at home and in Houston. No, I can't handle cancer by myself.
If God doesn't give me more than I can handle, then what role is there for Jesus? If I were able to fix this on my own, exactly when would I learn to depend on Jesus? Jesus Himself said, "Come unto Me all of you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28) I am so thankful for that invitation. There are days that cancer and all that goes with it just overwhelms me. No, I can't handle cancer by myself.
There is another saying that I have heard. "If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it." I have changed that to, "If God brings you to it, He can carry you through it."
No, I can't handle cancer by myself, but I don't have to.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
A Life Sentence
This is a blog post that I have been putting off for several days. I am afraid that people will take what I am about to write about as bragging or that I think I have it all figured out. I hope that you believe me that I have prayed about what to write and that it be read and accepted in the spirit that it is intended. Only God can make you see things the way I see them now.
I have heard multiple times from friends, co-workers, family, doctors and nurses about what a great positive attitude that I have. I think that it is the same attitude I have had my whole life. One co-worker told me that she is glad to see that cancer has not changed my attitude like she had seen it change other people she knew with cancer. I told her that I thought there was enough negative in the world without me adding to it.
The one thing that has helped me the most is that I do not see cancer as being a death sentence. I see cancer as being a life sentence. I firmly believe that God's will is for me to be completely healed from cancer and that it will never return. When that happens, I will live each day thankful for that day, loving my family and enjoying the days with them, and I will worship Jesus.
I know that there are some people that will ask, "What if God's will is for you not to be healed?" If the time should come that cancer takes my earthly body, then I know that because of my belief in Jesus Christ, when I take my last breath on earth, I will take my first breath in heaven. I will have two good lungs and there will be no more pain. I will see family and friends that have gone before me, and I will worship Jesus.
Either way, I still live!
I have heard multiple times from friends, co-workers, family, doctors and nurses about what a great positive attitude that I have. I think that it is the same attitude I have had my whole life. One co-worker told me that she is glad to see that cancer has not changed my attitude like she had seen it change other people she knew with cancer. I told her that I thought there was enough negative in the world without me adding to it.
The one thing that has helped me the most is that I do not see cancer as being a death sentence. I see cancer as being a life sentence. I firmly believe that God's will is for me to be completely healed from cancer and that it will never return. When that happens, I will live each day thankful for that day, loving my family and enjoying the days with them, and I will worship Jesus.
I know that there are some people that will ask, "What if God's will is for you not to be healed?" If the time should come that cancer takes my earthly body, then I know that because of my belief in Jesus Christ, when I take my last breath on earth, I will take my first breath in heaven. I will have two good lungs and there will be no more pain. I will see family and friends that have gone before me, and I will worship Jesus.
Either way, I still live!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Prayers
I have never been very good at praying. I start, then lose my focus, and my mind begins to wander. Soon I forget what I am praying about, get frustrated, and give up. During radiation treatment, I remembered hearing a minister say that if you don't know what to pray for, pray the Bible. I thought that I could surely handle that and decided that I would start reading the Psalms, underline verses that ministered to me, and start using them as my morning prayers. I read ten Psalms a day for fifteen days, underlining and praying scripture back to God. After fifteen days, I felt that these had to have been some of the most heartfelt effective prayers of my life and decided that I would start over and each day pray back the underlined portions, ten Psalms a day. I have continued doing this and I am still amazed how the right verses come up on the days I need them most.
On day fifteen, when physically I was probably at my lowest point, I read Psalm 150. The last verse says:
"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Praise the Lord!"
That is a tough pill to swallow for a lung cancer patient, but I still had breath, and so I praised the Lord.
The days leading up to the tests and treatments are the most anxious. There seemed to always be a lot of "what ifs" running through my mind. Every time I would get worried, Psalms would come up about God calming a situation. One of my favorites that came up during one of these times was Psalms 107. I have always had the vision that this cancer battle was like being in a boat tossed by the waves, so verses 25 to 29 touched me the most.
"For He spoke and raised up a stormy wind,
Which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They rose up to the heavens, they went down to the depths;
Their soul melted away in their misery.
They reeled and staggered like a drunken man,
And were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
And he brought them out of their distresses.
He caused the storm to be still,
So that the waves of the sea were hushed."
Finally, after seven months, we heard the report we had been waiting to hear: The cancer had not spread to any new sites. The active sites seen in previous scans were now either inactive or decreased in activity. The primary lung tumor has shrunk by half and is possibly dead.
The next morning Psalm 81 was the first for my daily prayer. Here is what I had underlined some three months ago:
"Sing for joy to God our strength;
Shout joyfully to the God of Jacob.
You called in trouble and I rescued you;
I answered you in the hiding place of thunder."
I just can't add anything to that but "Amen!"
On day fifteen, when physically I was probably at my lowest point, I read Psalm 150. The last verse says:
"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Praise the Lord!"
That is a tough pill to swallow for a lung cancer patient, but I still had breath, and so I praised the Lord.
The days leading up to the tests and treatments are the most anxious. There seemed to always be a lot of "what ifs" running through my mind. Every time I would get worried, Psalms would come up about God calming a situation. One of my favorites that came up during one of these times was Psalms 107. I have always had the vision that this cancer battle was like being in a boat tossed by the waves, so verses 25 to 29 touched me the most.
"For He spoke and raised up a stormy wind,
Which lifted up the waves of the sea.
They rose up to the heavens, they went down to the depths;
Their soul melted away in their misery.
They reeled and staggered like a drunken man,
And were at their wits' end.
Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
And he brought them out of their distresses.
He caused the storm to be still,
So that the waves of the sea were hushed."
Finally, after seven months, we heard the report we had been waiting to hear: The cancer had not spread to any new sites. The active sites seen in previous scans were now either inactive or decreased in activity. The primary lung tumor has shrunk by half and is possibly dead.
The next morning Psalm 81 was the first for my daily prayer. Here is what I had underlined some three months ago:
"Sing for joy to God our strength;
Shout joyfully to the God of Jacob.
You called in trouble and I rescued you;
I answered you in the hiding place of thunder."
I just can't add anything to that but "Amen!"
Saturday, February 26, 2011
A Dad, A Son and His Bikes
I may have mentioned once or twice that Chad and Shane are into bicycles. Well, not "into" bicycles—they practically live to ride bikes. Chad got into cycling because of a friend; Shane got into cycling because of Chad. Both of them possess a natural talent for racing bikes, but they are different types of riders. Chad is a long-distance racer, and Shane is a sprinter. Chad started his serious racing after he went to college; Shane started racing his junior year in high school. With Shane racing in high school, I got to drive him to races. We built considerable memories at those races that I still enjoy thinking about.
In November of his junior year, there was a mountain bike endurance race held at Erwin Park in McKinney. Shane thought it was a good idea for him to enter the six-hour division and asked if I would be his race support. I agreed, not knowing that it would be a six-hour endurance test for me, too. My job was to make sure that he had water, Gatorade, and snacks during the race. The morning of the race was clear and bitter cold, and Shane and I settled on the plan for me to carry a backpack full of water and Gatorade bottles and snacks. I was to be in one of two clearings at the park. The plan was that, as he passed in one clearing, he would tell me what he wanted. I would then run to the other clearing and have it ready for him when he got there. For six hours we did this, and we made a good team. When he crossed the finish line for the last time, we were both proud of what he accomplished. Oh, yeah, he won.
Early in the spring of 2008, Shane was in desperate need of a new road bike. One Saturday I asked him if he wanted to go look at bikes to see what they cost. Off we went to the first bike shop, but he did not find anything there that he liked. We headed for the really big bike shop where we knew the selection would be better. He looked around for a bit before finding a red and white Specialized bike that he liked. We talked to the sales guy for a bit about the bike, and then I looked at Shane and asked him, “Is that the one that you want?” He had a great "you-are-kidding" look on his face, and 30 minutes later we were loading up his new bike.
Shane did not get to race much in 2008 because it conflicted with high school baseball, but he decided that during his senior year he wanted to race bikes. Shane and I spent the spring of his senior year loading up his bike and anything else he needed and driving across Texas so that he could race. His main goal that spring was to race in and win the Texas High School Racing League. I had a lot of fun watching him race that spring. Each race he got stronger, and when he decided it was time to go, he would just ride off from the other racers. That red and white bike carried him to a lot of wins that spring, and he brought home the overall first-place trophy from the state championship in Amarillo.
Two weeks ago Shane called. He had crashed in a race and the impact was so hard it had broken the frame on his bike. Thankfully, Shane only suffered sprained wrists, but the bike was history. Later that night as I thought about that bike, I began to tear up a little. I thought of all of the places we had taken that bike and all of the races in which Shane had ridden it. It was like an old friend was gone, leaving only memories behind. That bike had carried Shane from a CAT 4 racer to a CAT 1 and into his second year of collegiate racing. I know that it may be silly to think that way about a bike, but that bike took Shane a long way and carried a lot of memories for both of us.
Thinking about buying the bike and the time spent with Shane going to races, I have to say that, undoubtedly, that red and white bike was the best investment I ever made.
In November of his junior year, there was a mountain bike endurance race held at Erwin Park in McKinney. Shane thought it was a good idea for him to enter the six-hour division and asked if I would be his race support. I agreed, not knowing that it would be a six-hour endurance test for me, too. My job was to make sure that he had water, Gatorade, and snacks during the race. The morning of the race was clear and bitter cold, and Shane and I settled on the plan for me to carry a backpack full of water and Gatorade bottles and snacks. I was to be in one of two clearings at the park. The plan was that, as he passed in one clearing, he would tell me what he wanted. I would then run to the other clearing and have it ready for him when he got there. For six hours we did this, and we made a good team. When he crossed the finish line for the last time, we were both proud of what he accomplished. Oh, yeah, he won.
Early in the spring of 2008, Shane was in desperate need of a new road bike. One Saturday I asked him if he wanted to go look at bikes to see what they cost. Off we went to the first bike shop, but he did not find anything there that he liked. We headed for the really big bike shop where we knew the selection would be better. He looked around for a bit before finding a red and white Specialized bike that he liked. We talked to the sales guy for a bit about the bike, and then I looked at Shane and asked him, “Is that the one that you want?” He had a great "you-are-kidding" look on his face, and 30 minutes later we were loading up his new bike.
Shane did not get to race much in 2008 because it conflicted with high school baseball, but he decided that during his senior year he wanted to race bikes. Shane and I spent the spring of his senior year loading up his bike and anything else he needed and driving across Texas so that he could race. His main goal that spring was to race in and win the Texas High School Racing League. I had a lot of fun watching him race that spring. Each race he got stronger, and when he decided it was time to go, he would just ride off from the other racers. That red and white bike carried him to a lot of wins that spring, and he brought home the overall first-place trophy from the state championship in Amarillo.
Two weeks ago Shane called. He had crashed in a race and the impact was so hard it had broken the frame on his bike. Thankfully, Shane only suffered sprained wrists, but the bike was history. Later that night as I thought about that bike, I began to tear up a little. I thought of all of the places we had taken that bike and all of the races in which Shane had ridden it. It was like an old friend was gone, leaving only memories behind. That bike had carried Shane from a CAT 4 racer to a CAT 1 and into his second year of collegiate racing. I know that it may be silly to think that way about a bike, but that bike took Shane a long way and carried a lot of memories for both of us.
Thinking about buying the bike and the time spent with Shane going to races, I have to say that, undoubtedly, that red and white bike was the best investment I ever made.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
In the Cloud
Looking back over these past few months, there have been times that I am certain the life I am living is not mine. There have been days that as soon as I wake up, a cloud descends on me and I go through the day going through the motions. I go to bed at night just praying that when I awake the next morning that the cloud will lift, and I will find God's plan in all of this and the nightmare will cease. As of yet, that has not happened.
Sometimes the cloud is of my own making. I can retreat into the cloud away from the doctors, nurses and loud machines. I can find myself remembering times before cancer when breathing was easier and there was no coughing to remind me. I am finding that if I stay in my cloud too long, that is when the self-pity begins, and my cloud can become dark and depressing.
Other times I think that the cloud is from God. These are the days that I have to depend on Him to get me through the day. I believe that most of all that is what He is trying to teach me: to increase my dependence on Him. That does not make this any easier, but it helps to know that when the fatigue sets in, He is there to carry me.
One thing that I have continued to struggle with is worshiping God in all of this. I know that if these clouds would lift, then I will be able to worship God for what He has done. But I have been reminded that that is not always how it works. When God gave Moses the instructions concerning the temple in the final chapter of Exodus, then a cloud covered the Tent of Meeting. This was to be a sign that God was there and the people were to stay and worship God in that place.
On occasion I have wondered where God has gone. Now I know that He has always been right here in the cloud with me.
Sometimes the cloud is of my own making. I can retreat into the cloud away from the doctors, nurses and loud machines. I can find myself remembering times before cancer when breathing was easier and there was no coughing to remind me. I am finding that if I stay in my cloud too long, that is when the self-pity begins, and my cloud can become dark and depressing.
Other times I think that the cloud is from God. These are the days that I have to depend on Him to get me through the day. I believe that most of all that is what He is trying to teach me: to increase my dependence on Him. That does not make this any easier, but it helps to know that when the fatigue sets in, He is there to carry me.
One thing that I have continued to struggle with is worshiping God in all of this. I know that if these clouds would lift, then I will be able to worship God for what He has done. But I have been reminded that that is not always how it works. When God gave Moses the instructions concerning the temple in the final chapter of Exodus, then a cloud covered the Tent of Meeting. This was to be a sign that God was there and the people were to stay and worship God in that place.
On occasion I have wondered where God has gone. Now I know that He has always been right here in the cloud with me.
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