The scripture says, "Rain falls on the just AND the unjust." Even when you have faith, you'll still have difficulties, but when the storms come, you will not be defeated.
The rain has fallen hard on our lives these last 14 months. Much harder than I ever imaged it would fall, although we've learned how to weather the storm, we've learned to not be defeated, and we've learned to enjoy the rain.
This weekend I completed my first half-marathon.
I ran a total of 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 30 minutes. Around mile 11, I realized that I was truly crazy.
But, I was running with a purpose. That morning I made sure to wear my "THINK GREY" shirt and a hot pink head band, all to honor a few people in my life who are fighting to BTHO Cancer. And as my legs started to hurt, and my mind was telling me that I needed to stop, I kept focusing on these individuals and continued to grab my two bracelets- one that read 'No One Fights Alone' and the other that read 'Running For Lar'. It reminded me that as I was fighting to BTHO 13.1 miles, as many others were fighting to BTHO Cancer- and that gave me the strength and determination to finish the run.
I ended the weekend on an unbelievable high, as I was so incredibly proud of myself for setting a goal and completing my first half-marathon. And the good news and smiles continued, as Dad had another great appointment with his Oncologist, Dr. Fleener, yesterday.
We scheduled our next treatment and MRI, which will take place after Christmas and decided to really focus on the Christmas holiday surrounded by friends and family, and not focus on the upcoming scan results. We decided that we would instead, enjoy the our time in the rain.
We also had the chance yesterday to give something back to the Cancer Clinic, to all the nurses and staff who have answered our numerous phone calls about Dad's treatment, who have helped me in filing appeals and fighting insurance claims, and who have comforted us during our treatment sessions. I remember walking back to the chemo center for the first time after Dad's tumor showed progression, and I was in tears. And then I remember one of the nurses coming up to me, giving me a hug and telling me that they were going to take great care of my Dad. It didn't make the tears completely stop, but it gave me comfort in knowing someone truly cared about my Dad and was going to help take care of him. We aren't a number at the Cancer Clinic, we are The Glenz Family, and for that I am so incredibly thankful.
We handed out Christmas wine glasses to each person at the Cancer Clinic, and we received so many hugs and smiles in return. It was an amazing feeling.
As we finished up the last decorations in the house, and wrapped up the remaining gifts for loved ones, we can't help but look back at this last year and give thanks for the rain.
Because of the rain we appreciate the holiday season more than we could have ever imagined. Because of the rain we appreciate one another more than we could have ever imagined. And because of the rain, we've learned to find the good in the storm, and we've learned to dance throughout it all.
Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas, and asking for continued prayers as we fight to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
"Scanxiety". Dad Update 12/8/2014
Scanxiety.
Our next scan is approaching more quickly than I would like, and as often as I tell myself to not live from one MRI to the next, the anxiety associated with any type of scan in the cancer world is always terrifying.
You go through so many emotions leading up to the scan, as each scan can bring a huge amount of relief, or a huge amount of fear. I have a verse taped on my computer screen at work: "They do not fear bad news, they confidently TRUST the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:7). And yes, I confidently TRUST- but I don't think anyone who is waiting for the results of a MRI/PET/CAT scan can say that this trust completely takes away all of the fear and anxiety. The fear and anxiety is still there, and you attempt to cope with it as best as you possibly can, and that's all you can do. You say a prayer, hope for the best and know that no matter what the results show, you've got a pretty amazing God leading you down this path. I try to remind myself that fear can keep us up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow!
12/5/2014 marked 14 months in our journey against brain cancer. 14 months marks the median survival rate for Glioblastoma patients, which is a number that I am fighting so hard to change, and a number I'm praying each day that Dad surpasses.
Last week was a tough week for Dad, as chemo week is always a little difficult. The side effects of the treatment make him so incredibly tired and he fights each day for strength to do "normal" things around the house. The week of chemo is not only difficult on Dad, but also on Mom. I sometimes think we forget about the caregivers for those going through cancer, the toll it can take on them mentally and physically. Sometimes we forget that caregivers see it all, we sit in treatment centers- surrounded by others in the same battle we face every day-, we see the side effects of the treatments, and we see the statistics of the disease we battle. Some days are just downright difficult for caregivers, and sometimes I'm not sure that others 100% understand that.
The things most people complain about, the struggles most people have, I promise all those in the Cancer Clinic would be more than happy to take on, instead of fighting for their lives. And as much as I wish each and every time I step foot in the Cancer Clinic that I wasn't going there, that our lives didn't revolve around Avastin and Temodar (chemo) treatments and the upcoming MRIs, I also remind myself that things could be worse. I remind myself that there is always, ALWAYS, something to be thankful for.
Dad has continued to fight since day 1, and I've seen and experienced things in my life that I would never wish upon anyone, but I've learned so much about myself, my strength, and my faith these last 14 months. I've learned to see the positive in our situation, I've learned that I can relate to so many others in their battles against cancer, and I've learned that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be.
The 14 month mark means so much to me, as I have never wanted Dad to be part of THAT statistic, instead part of the long term survivors statistic and part of the HOPE for a cure. I want Dad to be that percent that shocks the doctors and research, I want Dad to prove that he can and will beat this disease.
"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that stats are just numbers and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Stats don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."
Continue your thoughts and prayers for Dad, and all those fighting against cancer- thoughts and prayers for better days ahead and thoughts and prayers for great scan results! The "scanxiety" will never completely go away, but I hope all those fighting against the fear and anxiety can remember that there's a little something comforting about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what he is doing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Our next scan is approaching more quickly than I would like, and as often as I tell myself to not live from one MRI to the next, the anxiety associated with any type of scan in the cancer world is always terrifying.
You go through so many emotions leading up to the scan, as each scan can bring a huge amount of relief, or a huge amount of fear. I have a verse taped on my computer screen at work: "They do not fear bad news, they confidently TRUST the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:7). And yes, I confidently TRUST- but I don't think anyone who is waiting for the results of a MRI/PET/CAT scan can say that this trust completely takes away all of the fear and anxiety. The fear and anxiety is still there, and you attempt to cope with it as best as you possibly can, and that's all you can do. You say a prayer, hope for the best and know that no matter what the results show, you've got a pretty amazing God leading you down this path. I try to remind myself that fear can keep us up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow!
12/5/2014 marked 14 months in our journey against brain cancer. 14 months marks the median survival rate for Glioblastoma patients, which is a number that I am fighting so hard to change, and a number I'm praying each day that Dad surpasses.
Last week was a tough week for Dad, as chemo week is always a little difficult. The side effects of the treatment make him so incredibly tired and he fights each day for strength to do "normal" things around the house. The week of chemo is not only difficult on Dad, but also on Mom. I sometimes think we forget about the caregivers for those going through cancer, the toll it can take on them mentally and physically. Sometimes we forget that caregivers see it all, we sit in treatment centers- surrounded by others in the same battle we face every day-, we see the side effects of the treatments, and we see the statistics of the disease we battle. Some days are just downright difficult for caregivers, and sometimes I'm not sure that others 100% understand that.
The things most people complain about, the struggles most people have, I promise all those in the Cancer Clinic would be more than happy to take on, instead of fighting for their lives. And as much as I wish each and every time I step foot in the Cancer Clinic that I wasn't going there, that our lives didn't revolve around Avastin and Temodar (chemo) treatments and the upcoming MRIs, I also remind myself that things could be worse. I remind myself that there is always, ALWAYS, something to be thankful for.
Dad has continued to fight since day 1, and I've seen and experienced things in my life that I would never wish upon anyone, but I've learned so much about myself, my strength, and my faith these last 14 months. I've learned to see the positive in our situation, I've learned that I can relate to so many others in their battles against cancer, and I've learned that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be.
The 14 month mark means so much to me, as I have never wanted Dad to be part of THAT statistic, instead part of the long term survivors statistic and part of the HOPE for a cure. I want Dad to be that percent that shocks the doctors and research, I want Dad to prove that he can and will beat this disease.
"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that stats are just numbers and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Stats don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."
Continue your thoughts and prayers for Dad, and all those fighting against cancer- thoughts and prayers for better days ahead and thoughts and prayers for great scan results! The "scanxiety" will never completely go away, but I hope all those fighting against the fear and anxiety can remember that there's a little something comforting about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what he is doing.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Monday, December 1, 2014
Why I Run For The Rose. Update 12/1/2014
Many of you know our story. On October 5, 2013 Dad experienced a seizure in our kitchen, and soon after we learned the seizure was caused by a tumor in his left temporal lobe, a tumor that is considered one of the most aggressive forms of cancer- Glioblastoma Multiforme (GBM).
We were devastated. We were confused. And we were lost.
We questioned a lot of things- how could this happen to our family? How could this happen to our Dad? We didn't understand what a Glioblastoma diagnosis meant, we didn't understand all the terminology associated with a cancer diagnosis- but we found an organization that did, we found the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation.
The devastation and confusion seemed to fade, as we quickly realized we weren't alone in our fight. We were surrounded by a group of individuals who knew exactly what we were up against, we were surrounded by others in the brain cancer community. And for the first time, I was given hope in Dad's fight. Hope for a cure, and I was able to turn the energy I was using being devastated, confused and lost into a purpose- Brain Cancer Awareness.
Our first trip to 'Run For The Rose' seemed a bit "thrown together". We didn't know what were doing, and I sure as heck had no idea how to be an organized team captain. But with a lot of help from friends and family, we raised $10,000 and had over 50 team members supporting Dad. It was an unbelievable experience.
So here we are, our 2nd trip to 'Run For The Rose' is upon us, and I'm more excited and MUCH more prepared this time! I would love for each of you to join us that day- come experience a day that means so much to my family, and so many other families who are fighting against brain cancer.
The event is held in Houston on April 12. 2015 and is truly a family friendly event, with face painting, activities and lots of food! And...if you register TODAY you can save $5 by using the code 'CYBER5'.
Last year we helped raise $10,000, and I would love to do the same this upcoming year! So please join our team, make a donation, purchase a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, or send lots of prayers our way for a successful trip!
(If you would like to order a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, please email me at glenzwhitney@gmail.com.)
And visit our team page to help us BTHO Brain Cancer!
http://runfortherose.racepartner.com/run-for-the-rose/bthobraincancer
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Dad Update: Dad starts another round of chemotherapy today, and another Avastin treatment tomorrow. We continue to pray Dad feels well and the treatment is working to suppress any tumor growth. We look forward to another wonderful holiday season with Dad!
We were devastated. We were confused. And we were lost.
We questioned a lot of things- how could this happen to our family? How could this happen to our Dad? We didn't understand what a Glioblastoma diagnosis meant, we didn't understand all the terminology associated with a cancer diagnosis- but we found an organization that did, we found the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation.
The devastation and confusion seemed to fade, as we quickly realized we weren't alone in our fight. We were surrounded by a group of individuals who knew exactly what we were up against, we were surrounded by others in the brain cancer community. And for the first time, I was given hope in Dad's fight. Hope for a cure, and I was able to turn the energy I was using being devastated, confused and lost into a purpose- Brain Cancer Awareness.
Our first trip to 'Run For The Rose' seemed a bit "thrown together". We didn't know what were doing, and I sure as heck had no idea how to be an organized team captain. But with a lot of help from friends and family, we raised $10,000 and had over 50 team members supporting Dad. It was an unbelievable experience.
So here we are, our 2nd trip to 'Run For The Rose' is upon us, and I'm more excited and MUCH more prepared this time! I would love for each of you to join us that day- come experience a day that means so much to my family, and so many other families who are fighting against brain cancer.
The event is held in Houston on April 12. 2015 and is truly a family friendly event, with face painting, activities and lots of food! And...if you register TODAY you can save $5 by using the code 'CYBER5'.
Last year we helped raise $10,000, and I would love to do the same this upcoming year! So please join our team, make a donation, purchase a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, or send lots of prayers our way for a successful trip!
(If you would like to order a 'Team Lar' t-shirt, please email me at glenzwhitney@gmail.com.)
And visit our team page to help us BTHO Brain Cancer!
http://runfortherose.racepartner.com/run-for-the-rose/bthobraincancer
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Dad Update: Dad starts another round of chemotherapy today, and another Avastin treatment tomorrow. We continue to pray Dad feels well and the treatment is working to suppress any tumor growth. We look forward to another wonderful holiday season with Dad!
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Why I Run. Dad Update 11/20/2014
Recently I read an article by Today Show host Erica Hill, titled "Why I Run", a story of her family's battle against cancer.
It made me think about why I run. It made me think about what drives me to go on my long runs, what drives me to get up early and what drives me to continue to fight through the moments when I want to stop. And the answer was easy, the answer was simple: My Dad.
Erica Hill says it so perfectly:
"And so I run because I don't want anyone else to suffer like my father did... I am running because we can change the way these stories end, and I want to help make that happen."
It's exactly why I run each day. It's exactly why I sign up for runs like 'Run For The Rose', supporting the Dr. Marnie Rose Foundation, and it's exactly why I share Dad's story.
Running became my escape from it all. With Dad's diagnosis, I dealt with so many side effects of stress and anxiety. I didn't sleep well, I was always tired, and I was losing weight at a rate faster than ever before. Stress was getting the best of me, and after dropping almost 20 lbs, I knew something had to be done. I knew that I had to be well, so I could help Dad get well.
Slowly, I started to use running as my escape from the stress, as my way to take my mind off of it all, and slowly- it started working. I was sleeping better, had more energy during the day and (even with exercise) was starting to get back to a healthy weight. Running helped to alleviate some of my stress, and has helped to bring awareness to a cause so near to my heart.
My long runs seem to be the most difficult for me, and those morning when I don't want to get out of bed, or at mile 5 when I just want to stop, I remember who I'm running for. I remember that I'm running for all those, like my Dad, and I'm running to help "...fight for a better ending together, one that involves a world without cancer."
Dad's last doctor's appointment went well, and the next MRI has been scheduled for after Christmas. He continues on his Avastin treatments and chemotherapy, and he continues to feel great- and for that we are so incredibly thankful!
I try to focus on our path ahead. I try to focus on our next step, not our next 15 steps. The "what if's" seem to get the best of me from time to time, but then I have my time alone- where it's just me, my running shoes and a path ahead. It's those times where I can clear my mind, remind myself how far we've come on this path, and how blessed we really are.
We plan to truly enjoy our Thanksgiving and Christmas break- another wonderful time to celebrate family, friends and faith!
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
I try to focus on our path ahead. I try to focus on our next step, not our next 15 steps. The "what if's" seem to get the best of me from time to time, but then I have my time alone- where it's just me, my running shoes and a path ahead. It's those times where I can clear my mind, remind myself how far we've come on this path, and how blessed we really are.
We plan to truly enjoy our Thanksgiving and Christmas break- another wonderful time to celebrate family, friends and faith!
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
13 Months: Dad Update 11/5/2014
Today marks 13 months since Dad's seizure. How crazy it is to think that it's all been 13 short months that our lives changed, 13 short months of renewing our faith, and 13 short months that have felt like a lifetime.
As the 5th of this month comes around, I'm reminded of that terrifying day of Dad's seizure, the time we spent in the hospital, and those weeks following Dad's surgery, those weeks that tested our faith and strength in so many ways. And even more so, the stories that have filled the news recently about Brain Cancer, those stories that have tugged on my heart in so many ways.
I follow many different blogs with others who share our fight against cancer, and after reading an entry from a wife, who's husband has the same type of cancer as Dad, I was left realizing that maybe I'm alone in these thoughts about Brittany Maynard. Maybe I'm alone in my thoughts that what Brittany Maynard did was not what I consider brave, and maybe I'm alone in my thoughts of thanking God each and every day for this path he so perfectly created for us- a path many would run far, far away from.
I feel torn. I feel as though I should be sympathizing with Brittany Maynard, in her choice to "die with dignity". I feel as though I should approve of her choice to run from the fear of death, to run from the side effects of her tumor. Brittany Maynard had the same type of cancer as my Dad, so I know all too well the side effects of the tumor and the treatment for Glioblastoma. I know all too well the devastation of hearing "terminal cancer". And I know all too well that feeling of hopelessness.
But then I realize why I'm not sympathizing with Brittany Maynard and why I'm not agreeing with the words written by the wife of the Glioblastoma patient. I read Brittany Maynard's Obituatary. Do you know that not one time does it mentions the word "faith" or "God"? I also read the blog post of the wife of the Glioblastoma patient, and not once does that blog post reference "faith" or "God". Not once.
Understand that life involves suffering. Pain is very real with a cancer diagnosis. But so is the joy involved in it all. Never underestimate the power of God's plan, that through the pain and the heartache comes true joy.
The Bible shares a story of a house built on solid rock, and one built on sand. Just because the house was built on solid rock, doesn't mean the storm no longer comes- it just means, the house is able to stand more firm. And that's exactly what our family is doing.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7: 24-27
Dad started another round of chemotherapy on Monday and Avastin treatment yesterday. We continue fighting along this path and Dad continues to feel well- which is such an incredible blessing! Our next MRI will be scheduled around December, and I continue to ask God for the best Christmas present we could receive: A good report.
Continue the thoughts and prayers being sent towards Dad, and continue the prayers for all those faced with the difficult battle against cancer. I pray each of those who are in this fight understand the purpose in our battle, understand that with the good days, there will be bad, but also understand that throughout it all a power much greater than anything here on Earth is with us walking hand in hand.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer.
As the 5th of this month comes around, I'm reminded of that terrifying day of Dad's seizure, the time we spent in the hospital, and those weeks following Dad's surgery, those weeks that tested our faith and strength in so many ways. And even more so, the stories that have filled the news recently about Brain Cancer, those stories that have tugged on my heart in so many ways.
I follow many different blogs with others who share our fight against cancer, and after reading an entry from a wife, who's husband has the same type of cancer as Dad, I was left realizing that maybe I'm alone in these thoughts about Brittany Maynard. Maybe I'm alone in my thoughts that what Brittany Maynard did was not what I consider brave, and maybe I'm alone in my thoughts of thanking God each and every day for this path he so perfectly created for us- a path many would run far, far away from.
I feel torn. I feel as though I should be sympathizing with Brittany Maynard, in her choice to "die with dignity". I feel as though I should approve of her choice to run from the fear of death, to run from the side effects of her tumor. Brittany Maynard had the same type of cancer as my Dad, so I know all too well the side effects of the tumor and the treatment for Glioblastoma. I know all too well the devastation of hearing "terminal cancer". And I know all too well that feeling of hopelessness.
But then I realize why I'm not sympathizing with Brittany Maynard and why I'm not agreeing with the words written by the wife of the Glioblastoma patient. I read Brittany Maynard's Obituatary. Do you know that not one time does it mentions the word "faith" or "God"? I also read the blog post of the wife of the Glioblastoma patient, and not once does that blog post reference "faith" or "God". Not once.
Understand that life involves suffering. Pain is very real with a cancer diagnosis. But so is the joy involved in it all. Never underestimate the power of God's plan, that through the pain and the heartache comes true joy.
The Bible shares a story of a house built on solid rock, and one built on sand. Just because the house was built on solid rock, doesn't mean the storm no longer comes- it just means, the house is able to stand more firm. And that's exactly what our family is doing.
"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it." Matthew 7: 24-27
Dad started another round of chemotherapy on Monday and Avastin treatment yesterday. We continue fighting along this path and Dad continues to feel well- which is such an incredible blessing! Our next MRI will be scheduled around December, and I continue to ask God for the best Christmas present we could receive: A good report.
Continue the thoughts and prayers being sent towards Dad, and continue the prayers for all those faced with the difficult battle against cancer. I pray each of those who are in this fight understand the purpose in our battle, understand that with the good days, there will be bad, but also understand that throughout it all a power much greater than anything here on Earth is with us walking hand in hand.
Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
"He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't." Dad Update 10/23/2014
I find myself sending out emails to friends and co-workers titled "Inspiration Tuesday" or "Inspiration Wednesday". Really, there is no specific "Inspiration" day, as any time I find a story that I feel has tugged at my heart, I immediately send it out for inspiration to others. Some days, my need for inspiration is greater than others, and it's amazing how these days where I feel I need that inspiration and guidance to remind me that our path is perfectly created for us, right then and there I find my inspiration.
A few months ago I was introduce to Matt Chandler, a pastor in the Dallas area, who was diagnosed with brain cancer on Thanksgiving Day a few years ago. I read his story, felt truly inspired and then, for some reason, continued on without sharing his story and his faith. But then the other day Mom asked, "Have you heard about that pastor in Dallas who has brain cancer?" And right then I was reminded of Matt's story, and right then I knew I needed to share how he's inspired me.
I encourage each of you to watch this short video of an interview he had in 2010: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvRCXSPqhN4.
Matt Chandler talks about a story in the Old Testament, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, where they say "He Can, He Will, And even if He doesn't." Matt's perspective is so incredibly perfect, he says that he believes God can heal him, he believes God will heal him, and EVEN if He doesn't, he believes that "If I'm here, let's work. But if I go home, that's even better."
He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't.
What an incredibly powerful message! Dad's last trip to the Cancer Clinic went well, as his doctor is extremely pleased with his progress and is continuing him with chemotherapy and Avastin treatment. The visit was normal, the visit didn't include a BIG MRI result or any news that the doctor felt the tumor had progressed due to any physical signs, but for some reason this time felt a bit different for me. I can honestly say it never gets easier going to the Cancer Clinic, you never become numb to the realization that your loved one has cancer, and you never become numb to hearing someone say this was their first trip, that they recently found out they too had cancer.
For those who are getting treatment for the first time, both young and old, male and female, and representing every type of cancer, I want to embrace them and pray with them. I want to tell them it will all be 'ok'. I want to share with them that the darkness and pain of a cancer diagnosis will slowly fade and be filled with light and joy, as weird as that may sound. And maybe that's yet another gift Dad's cancer has given me, it's given me the ability to share this light and joy in my blog with others who may be faced with a cancer diagnosis.
I remember the first week of Dad's diagnosis, oh what a whirlwind it was! You're attempting to process the word "cancer" and what it means to your loved one and to you. You're attempting to schedule appointments with numerous doctors and you're attempting to keep it all together. You're also attempting to figure out how to share your new diagnosis. Are you open? Are you private? Do you want everyone to know the details? Will people understand or will they shy away and be fearful to say anything?
Oh the questions you ask yourself and the moments where you feel like it literally is all falling apart! These moments, as dark and painful as they may seem, now have created such light and joy in our lives. We are better because of Dad's fight.
Dad continues to feel well, and each day forward is such an unbelievable gift. I have to remind myself that if God's plan is to allow Dad to BEAT this cancer, then what a wonderful plan He has for us, and if that's not God's plan, if God's plan involves hurt, tears and pain, then what a wonderful plan He has for us!
I believe God can heal my Dad, I believe God will heal my Dad, but even if he doesn't, I will praise him throughout it all. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
A few months ago I was introduce to Matt Chandler, a pastor in the Dallas area, who was diagnosed with brain cancer on Thanksgiving Day a few years ago. I read his story, felt truly inspired and then, for some reason, continued on without sharing his story and his faith. But then the other day Mom asked, "Have you heard about that pastor in Dallas who has brain cancer?" And right then I was reminded of Matt's story, and right then I knew I needed to share how he's inspired me.
I encourage each of you to watch this short video of an interview he had in 2010: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvRCXSPqhN4.
Matt Chandler talks about a story in the Old Testament, the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, where they say "He Can, He Will, And even if He doesn't." Matt's perspective is so incredibly perfect, he says that he believes God can heal him, he believes God will heal him, and EVEN if He doesn't, he believes that "If I'm here, let's work. But if I go home, that's even better."
He Can. He Will. And even if He doesn't.
What an incredibly powerful message! Dad's last trip to the Cancer Clinic went well, as his doctor is extremely pleased with his progress and is continuing him with chemotherapy and Avastin treatment. The visit was normal, the visit didn't include a BIG MRI result or any news that the doctor felt the tumor had progressed due to any physical signs, but for some reason this time felt a bit different for me. I can honestly say it never gets easier going to the Cancer Clinic, you never become numb to the realization that your loved one has cancer, and you never become numb to hearing someone say this was their first trip, that they recently found out they too had cancer.
For those who are getting treatment for the first time, both young and old, male and female, and representing every type of cancer, I want to embrace them and pray with them. I want to tell them it will all be 'ok'. I want to share with them that the darkness and pain of a cancer diagnosis will slowly fade and be filled with light and joy, as weird as that may sound. And maybe that's yet another gift Dad's cancer has given me, it's given me the ability to share this light and joy in my blog with others who may be faced with a cancer diagnosis.
I remember the first week of Dad's diagnosis, oh what a whirlwind it was! You're attempting to process the word "cancer" and what it means to your loved one and to you. You're attempting to schedule appointments with numerous doctors and you're attempting to keep it all together. You're also attempting to figure out how to share your new diagnosis. Are you open? Are you private? Do you want everyone to know the details? Will people understand or will they shy away and be fearful to say anything?
Oh the questions you ask yourself and the moments where you feel like it literally is all falling apart! These moments, as dark and painful as they may seem, now have created such light and joy in our lives. We are better because of Dad's fight.
Dad continues to feel well, and each day forward is such an unbelievable gift. I have to remind myself that if God's plan is to allow Dad to BEAT this cancer, then what a wonderful plan He has for us, and if that's not God's plan, if God's plan involves hurt, tears and pain, then what a wonderful plan He has for us!
I believe God can heal my Dad, I believe God will heal my Dad, but even if he doesn't, I will praise him throughout it all. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
The Beauty In Suffering. 10/15/2014
Note: This blog post isn't one centered specifically around Dad, his treatment or further treatments ahead, instead this blog post is one that was specifically inspired by Dad. It's a blog post I wanted to share, one that I feel as though many of us can relate to- Suffering. Dad continues to do well and we are so incredibly blessed with each and every day. Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!
Suffering. I don't think there is a more perfect word to describe a cancer diagnosis. There is much suffering in hearing the word "cancer", there is much suffering in hearing the "life expectancy" and there is even greater suffering watching a loved one go through treatment.
This suffering has brought a true gift to my life, as I now have a much greater appreciation for life. Cancer has given me a gift. The suffering has given me a gift, as it's all lead to something wonderful- quality time.
You see, I've been able to share special moments with my Dad. And maybe these special moments are just watching his favorite tv show on a Monday night, or hearing him thank me for making dinner, or even listening to him snore while I'm trying to take a Sunday afternoon nap- But all of those moments are each uniquely special to me. I've learned to appreciate these moments. I've learned to say everything I want to say to him and tell him I love him every chance I get. Now if that isn't one of the most wonderful gifts one can receive, I'm not sure what is!
I know the life expectancy, I know the statistics- heck, I also know that something can happen to any of us tomorrow. I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not be around forever, I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not walk me down the aisle at my wedding- but I'm also faced with the realization of how precious each and every day is. I've realized the gift of cancer, that suffering has given me a gift and I will embrace that gift with all of my being.
Which is why my heart broke to hear the story of Brittany Maynard, the young lady who has decided to end her life on November 1 after being diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma) earlier this year. She says she doesn't want to suffer, she says she wants to die with dignity.
But isn't that what God promises us? He promises suffering. But he also promises to bring good out of all suffering. My devotional was just perfect the other day, and exactly how my family has tried to live our lives in our suffering with cancer. I just pray that Brittany Maynard realizes this before November 1. I hope she realizes that there is such a greater power controlling it all, and sometimes you just have to let go and let God take over.
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely- even thanking Me for them- is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purpose. Thus your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness." James 1: 2-4; Psalm 107: 21-22
Our suffering has been great and challenging, but I also know the pain we've felt this last year in our battle against cancer, is nothing compared to the joy we will experience as we stay on this path led by faith, and not by sight.
Each and every day I read a quote by Dana Hurst, a quote that has such significant meaning in my life:
"My fight. To not let suffering win. To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for it's own and run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Fighting each day to see the good in the suffering, fighting each day to see the good in the storm and reminding myself that 'life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." And my friends, I'm dancing.
Suffering. I don't think there is a more perfect word to describe a cancer diagnosis. There is much suffering in hearing the word "cancer", there is much suffering in hearing the "life expectancy" and there is even greater suffering watching a loved one go through treatment.
This suffering has brought a true gift to my life, as I now have a much greater appreciation for life. Cancer has given me a gift. The suffering has given me a gift, as it's all lead to something wonderful- quality time.
You see, I've been able to share special moments with my Dad. And maybe these special moments are just watching his favorite tv show on a Monday night, or hearing him thank me for making dinner, or even listening to him snore while I'm trying to take a Sunday afternoon nap- But all of those moments are each uniquely special to me. I've learned to appreciate these moments. I've learned to say everything I want to say to him and tell him I love him every chance I get. Now if that isn't one of the most wonderful gifts one can receive, I'm not sure what is!
I know the life expectancy, I know the statistics- heck, I also know that something can happen to any of us tomorrow. I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not be around forever, I am faced with the realization that my Dad might not walk me down the aisle at my wedding- but I'm also faced with the realization of how precious each and every day is. I've realized the gift of cancer, that suffering has given me a gift and I will embrace that gift with all of my being.
Which is why my heart broke to hear the story of Brittany Maynard, the young lady who has decided to end her life on November 1 after being diagnosed with brain cancer (glioblastoma) earlier this year. She says she doesn't want to suffer, she says she wants to die with dignity.
But isn't that what God promises us? He promises suffering. But he also promises to bring good out of all suffering. My devotional was just perfect the other day, and exactly how my family has tried to live our lives in our suffering with cancer. I just pray that Brittany Maynard realizes this before November 1. I hope she realizes that there is such a greater power controlling it all, and sometimes you just have to let go and let God take over.
"Be prepared to suffer for Me, in My Name. All suffering has meaning in My kingdom. Pain and problems are opportunities to demonstrate your trust in Me. Bearing your circumstances bravely- even thanking Me for them- is one of the highest forms of praise. This sacrifice of thanksgiving rings golden-toned bells of Joy throughout heavenly realms. On earth also, your patient suffering sends out ripples of good tidings in ever-widening circles. When suffering strikes, remember that I am sovereign and that I can bring good out of everything. Do not try to run from pain or hide from problems. Instead, accept adversity in My Name, offering it up to Me for My purpose. Thus your suffering gains meaning and draws you closer to Me. Joy emerges from the ashes of adversity through your trust and thankfulness." James 1: 2-4; Psalm 107: 21-22
Our suffering has been great and challenging, but I also know the pain we've felt this last year in our battle against cancer, is nothing compared to the joy we will experience as we stay on this path led by faith, and not by sight.
Each and every day I read a quote by Dana Hurst, a quote that has such significant meaning in my life:
"My fight. To not let suffering win. To not let it take away the joy in my faith. To not let it affect the relationships in my life. To instead, take it for it's own and run and use it to make me better. To allow it to show me when I am weak. To embrace those weaknesses when they are near and become stronger for it."
Fighting each day to see the good in the suffering, fighting each day to see the good in the storm and reminding myself that 'life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain." And my friends, I'm dancing.
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