Not Alone

Many of you have asked, so here’s what’s on my heart…

It has been a number of weeks since I heard the devastating diagnosis that Wes’ brain tumor had grown back and since then I have been living in a state of shock, fear, denial and grief, in that order.  I’m still able to function on all levels, I’m even able to laugh and have normal conversations.  But, our life has changed.  It’s been so very busy.  There have been numerous conversations with HSC in Winnipeg and Vancouver General and Dr. Toyota’s office.  Making arrangements for flights, hotels, a car, researching what is all in the area that I need to know about so that I can get out and about on my own.  I booked our flights out for June 21^st so Wes could rest before his appointments and I’m glad that I did because he’s got a few.  His first appointment at VGH is on June 22nd is at 10:15a.m. (1 ½ hrs) for a pre-op, then 12:45 (1 ½ hrs) for a CT Scan with contrast (which means an IV), then off we go to the Specialist Clinic where we meet Dr. Toyota at 3:30p.m. for our first visit with him.  Then on the 23^rd we have surgery and no I don’t know what time or how long the surgery will be, right now I’m on information overload and so I’m ok with not knowing. 

Organizing all these things is not easy.  And then I think, but, he's doing so well now, does he really need this surgery?  But I know he does and so I continue trying to keep everything straight, informing family and asking questions, a lot of questions.  Like, what about his chemo?  His next cycle is supposed to begin the day of his surgery, they ask Dr. Toyota and he gets back to me within a couple of hours and says Wes should wait with the next cycle until he’s home.  Then there are a multitude of orders; make sure you bring all your meds in their original containers, bring your ID, he needs his driver’s license, this paperwork needs to be filled out and signed, we need blood work and an EKG done.  Details and more details.  I have pages of information that I have written down spread across my table at home.  Confirmation numbers, phone numbers, dates, times, flight numbers, addresses and specific instructions and remember this and don’t forget that and if it’s really important underline it twice, put a star beside it, circle it, put an arrow beside it.  My mind has been in complete overload, but this is what I can do for my husband right now, he needs me to get this done.  This is what I can do for him, this is my gift to him to work at organizing and sifting through all the details to offer him the opportunity for hope that he needs right now, that we all need right now. 

And yet…

there’s a part of my heart that is so completely broken and like a small child I want God to fix it.  I want God to put everything back the way it was.  I want my life back.  But, it will never be the same.

There are moments when I lose all hope and in that moment the tears won’t stop and I feel as though I can’t breathe, there are moments when I imagine my life alone and I’m overwhelmed with memories of better times and then there are moments I dream of a miracle, what if they do the CT scan in Vancouver and that tumor is just gone!  What a miracle that would be!  And I cry, “just a little more time please God!”  But, God makes no promises except one.  That he loves me.

And even though I know that I often feel helpless and bruised, torn and defeated, that is the human side of who I am right now.  But, the supernatural side of who I am in Christ still knows that I am loved beyond measure and so I draw my strength from that.  I want to protect my children and my grandchildren, my parents and my in-laws from hurting so I work hard to stay strong for them, though I can’t take away the pain or the fear. 

And so to the outside world looking in it may look like I’m alright, but in reality piece by piece this tumor is trying to chip away at the core of who I am.  Its daring me and challenging me to lose hope, to become crippled in my faith, in my identity in Christ.  This diagnosis would love nothing more than to get fear to take over and rule my heart.  More than anything I would really love for God to say, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this and I’ll fix everything!” But, right now in my world there is silence, but don’t misunderstand, it’s not dead silence it’s simply a quiet calm from Heaven.

God is asking me to wait, to trust and that’s hard.  

He’s reaching out his hand and asking us to step out of the boat and trust that we will not sink and that even though he is asking us to walk through the fire, he has promised that we will not burn.  He will be there with us, every step of the way.  He’s here with us now and the grief and fear and burdens that I feel, well, I know he feels them too. 

And he is the hope for the helpless. 

And in everything he offers us glimmers of life. 

He has also given us amazing and loving, wonderful people from our families, from our church and from our community who have reminded us over and over again that we are not alone.  You are walking alongside us.  Fellow warriors, determined to battle with us, to carry us in prayer, to hold up our arms like Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms in battle you hold us up and I want you to know that we feel that and that without it the struggle would so much harder.

Today I held my new granddaughter Brooklyn and I am reminded of the beautiful miracle that is life.  I took a selfie with her and as I clicked my iphone I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  She smiled, not a little “I think it’s just gas!” kind of smile, but a full on wide open smile.  And as I looked at the picture again tonight I thought how is that possible?  She’s barely a day old, over a month early and she’s got this huge grin, what in the world?  But, as I sat writing this post and staring at that photo it is that smile that gives me hope, hope that there is life and there is joy in this life.  And that smile reminds me that God is there in those moments offering his love through the smile of a child.  He’s good that way isn’t he?

We are never alone!

Isaiah 43:2  “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”