Update #74

Heard some pretty hard news at Roswell today.  

Scans show that there is now liver and lung involvement as well as new lesions in different bones.  After an MRI on Friday evening, I will meet with my doctor on Tuesday morning to finalize chemo infusion plans and then I will start chemo Wednesday.   It will most likely be a weekly chemo (on for 3 weeks and off for one).  It will most likely be an agent that causes me to be bald, although the final determination of that won't be made until later after my doctor, who was out sick today,  weighs in on the final plans. 

What makes all that even harder is that my bones are really bothering me.  So I will be starting prescription pain meds tonight (and perhaps during the day, depending on if they interfere with my ability to parent). 

Ugh. 

I'm being faced with doing two things I have never wanted to do - Rx pain meds and infusion chemo – and I'm adjusting to that reality.  I do okay until I think of my kiddos and then my eyes just overflow.  

This will be very hard on them. And I can't make it go away.  

I can parent them through this. 

I can point them to the only One who provides a real and lasting hope. 

I can surround them with people who will love them and who will willingly pick up the slack for me.  

But I can't tell them the things that I long to be able to tell them.  

I was flying home the other day and just struggling with the fact that my body was feeling worse and knowing that I was going to get my results back today.  I had moved some songs from my iCloud to my iPhone so I could listen to some music on the flight.  I made a mistake and moved an entire album by Casting Crowns (one that, unbeknownst to me,  Chad had just purchased during his marathon training) and this song came one.  It's called, "Just Be Held"  (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIZitK6_IMQ).  It resonated so deeply with me, especially one line. And that one line has run through my head incessantly since that moment. 

"If your eyes are on are the storm, you wonder if I love you still. 

But if your eyes are on the Cross, you know I always have and I always will."

Oh my goodness, does that resonate. 

When I look at the storm, I wonder why He doesn't stop it for me when He has demonstrated a great ability to stop storms, part waters, restore life, heal broken bodies, bind up bleeding hearts, soothe troubled spirits. When I look at the storm, I do struggle with feelings of being unloved – or not loved enough – by Him.  

But, when I look at Christ and the Message of the Cross, those doubts fade away.  The Message of The Cross is all about a radically loving God who does the unimaginable so that we can be forever reconciled to God.  Who does the unimaginable for one reason only: because He loves us. 

The Storm.

The Cross.

As I've said before, this has been and continues to be a battle of where my eyes rest.

This new chapter I'll be embarking on doesn't change that. 

It's still the same battle.

The battle is not with cancer.

It's never been with cancer. 

Cancer is just the backdrop for the battle.

The real battle is for my eyes.

And, I can guarantee you that any battle you may be facing right now is first and foremost about your eyes too.

Do we keep our eyes on the Storm or do we keep our eyes on the Cross?

So, my friends, I thank you for the words of encouragement you've already sent my way and I thank you, in advance, for being willing to continue to walk out this journey with our family. I know it's tough.   May we all see Christ more clearly as we walk it out and may that infuse us all with a joy, peace and hope that are louder and deeper than the sounds of the storm.  And may you have plenty of Kleenex on hand if you see me and I cry like a baby! 

Love to you

K.