HObbitsville Blog

I promised a Camping update...

Sun, 25 Jul 2010 22:03:14 -0800

And this isn’t it! Sorry folks, I’ve been pretty weak this week. I guess the camping update is going to have to wait another day or two. Thanks for praying for us, we didn’t get eaten by grizzlies, and we found out that camping is character training in an up-close and personal sort of way! I’ve been doing lots of musing, and I’m looking forward to sorting all my thoughts out here in a blog post. Everyone is so kind to put up with this being my place for trying to think life through! :) I just wanted everyone to know I haven’t forgotten. May the Lord’s grace be on your week! I’ll be back soon....

A Family Adventure

Thu, 15 Jul 2010 22:59:29 -0800

Wow, it’s been a busy couple of weeks since I last updated our site! I find that I am not as strong as I was hoping to be at this point, but at the same time we are doing better at home life than I had hoped for.

Our little house and it’s inhabitants are humming along about as well as I could expect for a family with five children seven years of age and under (especially a home where the Mommy is forever taking naps!) I am grateful to the Lord for my sweet, helpful children.

Today, if you had poked your head in around 10:45 AM, you would have found Noah vacuuming, Kate dusting, and Shaina helping Wes with his little chore of wiping off the chairs. They are such cheerful little chore-do-ers!

We’ve had many adventures over the last few weeks... a few picnics, and Nathaniel took the children into the country side to pick me wildflowers, my very favorite thing. I got to take a NRA “bear protection and awareness class” that was terrific fun. The culmination was shooting at a moving target of a bear as it charged towards you. My first shot went through the heart... hurray! We’ve had LOTS of company, everything from ministry work teams up here for short term missions to little neighbor girls for a tea party. It’s been busy but good.

Nathan and I both have had some dreams and vision revived of ministries we had hoped to see take place here in Alaska. More about that in another post, but I am excited about the fact that God still wants us here in the North, and has a reason for it!

Sometimes it feels like life and laundry and cooking and cleaning and diapers and Wesley-dumping-a-whole-bottle-of-shampoo-on-the-baby-while-he’s-sleeping-in-the-crib-and-now-ISN’T-sleeping-anymore has a way of keeping you from REALLY connecting as a family. Nathaniel and my heart-talks are snatched here and there when we really should be sleeping and listening to the children share their little perspectives always happens while in motion. “Here, walk with Mommy down to the laundry room, I really do want to hear about it...”

I remember walking into a restaurant the night I was diagnosed with cancer. I was literally shaking with fatigue, in my third trimester, an entire day without food isn’t a good thing, and those tests had seemed endless. We collapsed into a booth and cried most of the meal. That poor waitress! Nathan looked at me and said, “Today changes every day hereafter. I’ll never take you for granted again, we’ll make the moments count.” I expressed the same sentiments, and I meant it with all of my heart.

But we don’t do it. Crisis doesn’t change the rat race of life, and once it catches up to you it is so easy to just succumb. But we have changed... at least a little. We’re fighting to remember how desperately we wanted to savor each other when all seemed lost.

All that to say that we’re leaving. We are outta here! We are crazy. Totally crazy. We’re taking five children to a remote refuge cabin that we just learned has had the windows broken out of it. That means no screens either. (Have you ever seen an Alaska mosquito? They have to register for air space at our airport when they fly!) Yup, the Hobbits are going camping!

We’re hauling water, two pack n’ plays, a port-a-potty, a ton of food, and everybody’s silkies and snugglies for a weekend camping excursion in the wilderness. We need time to enjoy our children, look in each other’s eyes and really listen. We need to make memories that no matter what tomorrow brings will linger even in the littlest minds. Well, maybe. That’s kind of longing of a Mommy too in touch with her own mortality!

I’m so excited, and so tired at the same time. The last of the cookies are coming out of the oven and I’m off to bed. In the morning we’ll pack our jitney and load it on to trailer and head out about 50 miles out of town. There are so many things that could hinder the fun... bugs, bears, cold, diaper rash.... but the hope of just marinating in each other’s presence apart from the pressure of home life is just about irresistible!

Will you pray for us, as we become a wilderness family for a few days? I feel my own weakness so keenly, and know that unless God has mercy and keeps us safe and happy, this could be a nightmare. But it could also be a beautiful chance to just be a family and learn and work and play together. That is what I’m dreaming of. I promise lots of pictures and a full report when we return!

Happy Birthday!

Mon, 21 Jun 2010 01:03:07 -0800

Wesley hasn’t called him “Lub” in at least two months, but I still do. When “Caleb” was too hard for him to pronounce, he just shortened it to Lub. “Look, Mommy! Lub laughing!” It was wonderful.

Well, our little Lub turned one yesterday. I just want to praise God to the whole cyberworld... our little man that almost lost his life a year ago, is a fat and happy soul! I am blessed beyond measure with such a good, dear fellow. Our whole family delights in him.

So, here’s a few pics. Thanks to everyone for the prayers you prayed for him and for us. One other cherry on top... Nathaniel’s sister Esther gave birth to her first baby, Charles William Straight on Caleb’s birthday. What joy! I can’t wait to see those cousins play together. :)

Just a Poor Wayfaring Stranger... or Two!

Thu, 17 Jun 2010 14:43:11 -0800

It wasn't a bad british accent for a five year old! "Ma'am, may we stay here? We've climbed up your porch and we need a place to live." Shaina looked at me very sincerely, her hoodie peeking out awkwardly from where she had stuffed it under her blue dress. Kate chimed in, "Yes, this is my Mudder, and she is very beautiful, and she has a Cinderella dress, and can we live here?" We agreed that the rent would be two dollars a month, and Noah grinned while I told them about my strong son who protects everyone in the house from bad soldiers.

Shaina extended her hand and curtsied, "Thank you, Ma'am. We had nowhere else to go." Kate also extended her hand, the wrong one, and said, "Thank you, Mommy, for letting me and my Mudder live here." She was too cute and irresistible. "LIttle girl, may I hug you?" I love it when my children get caught up in a little make-believe adventure! I sat on the couch and pulled her little self into a tight hug. She smiled up at me, "I just love you so much, Mommy, and I love you too, and can I see your boo-boos?"

It always surprises me how it comes out of nowhere, the sudden desire to see my scars and know that I am well and healing. It is almost always Kate who asks. I haven't shown them very often... we are pretty careful as a family about trying to keep certain places in the private category! But they also understand the process of my cancer, and Kate in particular is very comforted to know that my boo-boos are healing. I wish in a way that she could just forget, but maybe better than forgetting is finding a place of peace where we are now.

I certainly don't forget. Today my memories have been very close. At 10:22 AM I looked at the clock and remembered how exactly a year before Nathaniel and I had been driving down the highway to pick up my Mom at the Anchorage Airport. I had just donated my hair to locks of love, and was looking in the visor mirror trying to see what I looked like with that new bob. I remember Mom's embrace at the airport... we'd been wanting to hug each other ever since that cancer diagnosis, and the only thing in the way of her motherly embrace was my big belly.

Everything started going wrong soon after that. The excruciating test of the amniotic fluid nicked Caleb's umbilical cord, and I spent the afternoon in triage. I was induced that evening. Labor started slowly the next day, and so Caleb didn't make his appearance until the wee hours of the 19th.

I have been thinking of the goodness of the Lord. Most of all, He let Caleb live. One year later and we are returning to life again as a family. I think I would have panicked last year if Carlee of today could have appeared to Carlee of then and told her that it would take a whole year, and of how many of her worst fears would come true. I miss her, the me that used to be. I'm back living in her house, and I think that makes me miss her more. There are changes that trials bring, some are beautiful but some are sad.

I think my soul is deeper, my concern for others is absolutely more profound. My faith in God and His Word are stronger than they have ever been. My patience is thinner, though, and body is weaker. My optimism is no longer unsinkable, and I have this annoying habit of fighting tears and a deeply lonely feeling when I'm in a crowd.

I've been thinking about how tied we are to life and earth. We never were supposed to be... every bit of scripture is telling us that we are to live as residents of another realm and kingdom. But it is so easy to become tied to here, to view through our fading eyes everything around us and try to cling to it. We're kind of like those odd stories of kidnapped damsels who fall in love with their captor, getting so caught up with the moments here that we forget to live for the rescue.

So here I am, walking through these memories of a year ago. Maybe if I had a bit more of heaven's vision, I could more clearly see my losses as gains. It feels like I am digging for treasure. I felt my shovel strike something a while ago... so I keep digging. Above it all I feel the confidence that I was never abandoned, that God was "riding on my storm" and seeing to it that His purposes were accomplished through it.

I keep trying to come up with some nice, neat sentence to finalize this post. It just isn’t there. I guess maybe because there is no final conclusion yet, I am still scanning the horizon for a sign of my Rescuer.

My Dani-Girl is Leaving. :(

Sun, 13 Jun 2010 01:40:35 -0800

It’s saturday night again...actually the wee hours of sunday morning. The first thing I need to say is that HALLELUJAH! we are no longer battling the flu. It took a full week, and once I finally remembered reading about probiotics and how they can help, we started getting better pretty fast. It was exhausting, but I think we’re finally recovering from all of the lost sleep.

We spent a good bit of the day driving today. We may not have roads that connect to anything, but we have roads!

We drove the whole 80 miles or so of the Kugarok road to the end. And there, just beyond the bridge, we saw the sight that many others have also spent more than two hours driving to see. THE END OF THE ROAD. Yup, it just sorta stops in the tundra. Hurray. It was so impacting that we didn’t even stop to take a picture to prove we’d been there.

We went back a way, pulled down by the river and ate our picnic, pulled children out of the freezing river as they tripped and fell at various intervals (Do you think I’m the sort of Mommy to say, “No, you can not play in that gorgeous river!” I AM the sort of Mommy to bring lots of extra clothes though!), removed multiple rocks from Caleb’s mouth, rejoiced that it was too cold and windy for mosquitos, and shot our uber-cool revolvers (That is definitely my word... to the guys they are tools, to me they are fun and protection all rolled in to one!). :)

This outing was a final trip with Dani before she heads home Sunday night. I found myself reflecting as we drove home, our tired eyes scouring the mountainsides for the bears we never did see. When Dani came a year ago, we were sisters who loved each other so much. We have now become sisters who almost know each other better than we know ourselves!

This last year we have seen each other at our best and worst. We have found out that we love each other more than we ever knew, and that it is the kind of committed love that can stand the tests of time, not to mention five small children!

I am glad that of all the wonderful people in my life, next to Nathaniel, my sister knows me best. I feel very teary at the thought of her leaving. I’m glad in a way... her going means that we are well enough to be a family again. Her going also ends the most amazing 13 months that we have spent together. Not always happy, not ever easy, but a precious treasure.

I’m not sure when you’ll read this, little sis... but thank you with all of my heart. We truly could not have survived this year without you. You’re so caring, and creative, and fun, and deep, and song-filled, and listening, and patient, and beautiful. I love you more than you could ever know in a thousand years talking on the tundra together. Thank you for loving me back and sharing my life.

The Coin Toss That Is My Life

Sat, 5 Jun 2010 23:05:48 -0800

Well, it is Saturday night in Nome, and I thought I would muse here a bit before I head for bed. Today was a wonderful adventure. My brother Nathan has been renting a cherokee 140 aka single engine prop plane to increase his hours, as well as flying friends to the villages, etc.

Today we got a sitter for the children and Nathan flew Dani, Nathaniel, and I to the village of White Mountain. We played the grocer by delivering eggs, yogurt, and sour cream to the pastor’s family there. It was such a delight to see them, and a joy to see our country side from the air. Nate is a super pilot, and I felt so safe with him. We had such fun!

It has been a fairly smooth transition home, with a few hiccups along the way. It has been wonderful to catch up with our dear friends here, and our weather has been cool but sunny.

We’ve been battling a stomach flu that has hit almost all of us through the week here and there. It is gratefully rather short lived, but it’s a bummer to be up through the night with very miserable children. Last night went well, so I hope we’re over it. (Quick alert - it’s almost 2 AM and I just jumped back on to say that Noah was just throwing up again... he had been sick two nights ago, but was fine last night. Nathaniel is also feeling queasy, Wes is up and crying that his “blum” or tummy hurts. Please pray that we will be well and get some sleep, all this “kah-kah juice” as they call it happens at night. Aaugh!)

Last Saturday, May 29, was the one year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis and I was unprepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with it. I think I am usually a fairly reasonable person, but I was a MESS on saturday! I cried almost constantly all morning, I just could not get a grip!

Memories of sitting down and hearing the doctor say I had a “big, bad cancer,” Parking at Lake Hood while Nathaniel called my Mom and Dad to tell them, sobbing to sleep in each other’s arms... everything that made up that first horrible day with cancer felt so close and devastating.

I went to my room for a little while, praying and crying. I felt like God spoke to my heart that today was not a day for questions or “what ifs.” It was a day to kneel at His throne and submit to His hand and purpose in my life through the gift of cancer. I was at peace when I got off my knees, and I thought it was settled.

But it wasn’t five minutes before the turmoil was back, and I must have knelt in my heart twenty times before I was done with the turbulence. It was a battle that took hours. Maybe it took that many times until the submission was genuine.

Just like an old friend who knows you’re having a hard day and does something to cheer you up, God pulled a kind-hearted miracle with my new table. We had shipped it parcel post from Anchorage, so we weren’t expecting it any time soon. The annex where we pick up our large packages is closed on Saturday, but we were driving by, so Nate swung in. Our friendly postal lady was having a hard time starting her truck, and while Nathan helped her, we saw to our amazement that our packages were in! I can just hear God’s conversation with the angels, “Saturday is going to be rough for Carlee, could we put a rush on that table for her, it would really make her smile!”

And that is the coin toss of my life. This coin that has the face of grief on one side. When that side lands up I find I just can’t fight the tears, and that the weight of what happened on these exact days one year ago just about chokes me. I’m so much better and stronger than I was during chemo and radiation, but compared to one year ago... the scars and pain and “stuff” my body will always deal with is heavy load. It’s like a dream I wish I could wake up from.

But there is a flip side to this coin, the face of gratitude. Oh, I love when the coin toss brings me this one! I look at my children, sweet little faces and lives that I am still sharing! To be home with them and Nathaniel again sometimes makes me feel like I could burst. We spent Monday out at our friend’s cabin, and what a joy to be well and together!

There are SO many reasons for gratitude... I am well, we are home, God has been near and is encouraging us through His people and His word. That is probably the greatest reason to be grateful.

The silence of God is something I do not understand, but it was our lonely companion for almost six months of this journey, and was perhaps the greatest trial of all. Nathaniel and I have both felt His nearness and been blessed to see His hand once again. I do not doubt that He has always been near, but for some reason He chose to shroud His presence in a thick blackness for a while.

So you see the flip flop - gratitude and grief, and sometimes I don’t know how the coin will fall. In the happiest of moments I will suddenly be fighting back tears, and in moments of quiet reflection I will feel like laughing aloud with delight at this “second chance“ that I have been given to live our little life in Nome with my sweet family.

Earlier in this post I referred to the “gift” of cancer. It is a hard statement to make, to call my curse a blessing. I say it in faith, though, and I mean it. Once again I go back NOT to what I can see, but to what I know about God. If He could fulfill His purposes and glory the most by releasing me from this last year of cancer, I believe He would have. But He did not, and the default answer is that it is for some reason that matters, if not here, in eternity.

On my one year cancer anniversary, I went digging through my old blogs to find a quote I knew I had written there. Sure enough, in my July 11 post I found it. The GREAT PURPOSE quote. So I close with that, and I think I can go to sleep tonight with my grief side of the coin buried for a while, and my face of gratitude smiling to the heavens.

“There is nothing - no circumstance, no trouble, no testing --
that can ever touch me until, first of all,
it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me.
If it has come that far, it has come with a GREAT PURPOSE,
which I may not understand at the moment.
But as I refuse to become panicky,
as I lift up my eyes to Him
and accept it as coming from the throne of God
for some great purpose of blessing to my own heart,
no sorrow will ever disturb me,
no trial will ever disarm me,
no circumstance will cause me to fret,
for I shall rest in the joy of what my Lord is.
That is the rest of victory."

Wildflowers bloom first of all

Mon, 31 May 2010 00:37:21 -0800

In Nome, the wildflowers come before the tundra has even begun to green. At the top of the mountain I found amazing varieties and wanted to share them with you. God is so amazing! His creativity and handiwork are found in secret places. They bloom where the ice and snow have barely thawed, before the tough tundra even changes hue. Those little wildflowers have inspired me to not resist God at work in my own life, even though the chill of this year of illness lingers all about me. It’s so easy to want to mope at times! Take a lesson from the wildflowers!

(We forgot the camera, so all I had was Nathan’s phone to use for the pics. Some are a bit fuzzy... sorry! In the last pictures, yes, that is Caleb crawling on the mountain top. And yes, that is musk ox “berries” he found and began to eat. AAUGH! There were three herds on the mountain tonight, one had five calves! So cute! The last pic with a flower you can see the ground all broken up. A bear had been feeding on a musk ox, you can see the rib cage in the background.)

There and back again... A hobbits tale

Sat, 29 May 2010 20:00:00 -0800

We made it home! Hurray! Hallelujah! Thanks to lots of prayers and a really amazing sister who added a much needed pair of extra hands, our time in Anchorage went smoothly overall, and we are home at last.

I had mostly good news from my docs, no need to see them until another 4 months or so. My lymph edema is discouraging, the specialist is ordering a night time sleeve and a customized day sleeve. She said if I want to to keep from more problems it needs to be under compression 24/7 basically for the rest of my life. I can see how much thicker it is even than a few months ago, and it swells without compression. Those sleeves surely don’t fit well into a life of changing diapers, cooking, cleaning, and the need for constant hand washing. I think it’s going to be a place where I need daily grace.

The welcome home was so special! Dear friends met us at the airport, and then took us to some other friend’s house for a lunch party. What a happy reunion! I have so missed the family God has blessed us with here in Nome, and it is a joy to be back again.

We’re still a bit tired, but overcoming the jet lag. Thank you to everyone who prayed for our travels, it went as smoothly as I could have ever imagined! I’ve lots of thought to share, but I’m too tired just now. I’ll try for tomorrow. :)

(The pics are at the airport with the Hansens (Angela, Peter, and their children are as beloved as siblings), Tula Huffman (she is “Ana” our children’s eskimo grandmother), Fiskeauxs (Family in a way that runs deeper than blood, the pastor’s family that has so blessed and inspired us here), Brenda Evak (my eskimo little sister), Mina Bachelder (missionary with her husband to the Arctic for over 40 years), and a GREAT picture of Danielle and Nate Sobie on the rocks outside James and Amy Adcox’s home, where we went for lunch.

Soul Food

Sat, 22 May 2010 18:12:52 -0800

Our time at Daniel and Carol’s was just terrific. They, along with William and Esther, are true lovers of all things fun, adventurous, significant, and eternal. As for the children, this is as close to heaven as it gets on this side!

We are now desperately packing up five months of living here, preparing for our flight out on Monday. It’s going to be a pilgrimage of epic proportions, that’s for sure! We’re so grateful for Brave Danielle’s willingness to journey with us for two weeks, and help us through the travel and time change as we get home.

I’ll include just a few pics of the time at Daniel and Carol’s, but the first ones are video of the Hobbs doing what they do best. Singing! You can see that Nathan really fought tears. He shared with me that this song had often come to his mind through this last year. It isn’t as easy to sing as it was years ago for him, but the truth in it is where we choose to stand. Enjoy, it was meant from the heart!

He’s coming, He’s coming, He’s coming!

Mon, 10 May 2010 18:34:40 -0800

I am jumby (that’s a Sobie word) and waiting and can hardly stand it! Dad and Mom picked up Nathaniel tonight because they were already in Cleveland... and they’re almost here! It’s so exciting to be at the end of another 5 weeks apart. Hurray! Reunions must be one of the best parts of heaven, because even here in this fallen place... they are terrific! :)

So I thought I’d type quickly here, as it may be a few days before I get back to it! I’m doing well, better than I had hoped I would be by now. I still get tired, but my resilience is increasing! We travel back to AK on the 24th of May, and then have a few days in Anchorage before we get home to Nome on the 27th.

It’s such an awful delight, this going home. Part of it feels like a goal achieved, a dream obtained. We’re well enough to go home! The other side is the realization that going home is separation from family. It’s really hard for me to think about. I am so grateful to share my children with my family each day, especially my Mom. She just delights in every little thing, and there is something so special about enjoying them together. I know we are going to need grace for this separation... it hurts already.

Speaking of Mom, it looks like we have won the Thymes competition. My story about her quilt, and all of you voting for it means Mom has $300 to spend on their products. Hurray again! Thank you so much for doing this for my Mom. She’s so amazed that we won... we all are! It’s been a source of lots of laughter and excitement around here. :)

But I’m learning to not dwell on the places I don’t have grace for yet. So we’re going to rejoice and celebrate that “Daddy is back!” and enjoy these moments that remain here with my family. He’s almost here... I can hardly wait!

I’m still here!

Sun, 9 May 2010 20:01:37 -0800

Mother’s Day 2009 was a really special day for me. We snapped this picture of the children and I, and I have just loved it. If you’ve read my blog at all, you know that I really do enjoy being a Mommy!

We didn’t know that two weeks later that picture of the children and I would be posted on refrigerators and tucked into Bibles as friends and strangers alike purposed to pray for us as we faced my breast cancer.

There are women as young as I, with sweet families depending on them, who aren’t there for the Mother’s Day photo the year after their diagnosis. I have looked at the 2009 picture for a year, asking Jesus to let me raise my children for His glory. And I’m still here.

I hesitated to add those words... for His glory. Does it sound overly pious or a little extreme? It really is the purpose I have for living, though! I have found refuge for my spirit and salvation for my soul in the person of Jesus Christ. I want my life to show the bigness of this Creator God, the grandness of His pursuit of mankind, and to ultimately live God BIG in my little life.

And it has been almost a year. I’m still Mommy. The thought just makes me weep! We all know we don’t have a guarantee on tomorrow, but for now... for Mother’s Day 2010, I am still the Mommy in the picture, surrounded by sweet hobbits.

My heart wells up with gratitude to God for letting me stay this long, that I am growing stronger, and that we are actually looking over the brink of heading home to try to live a life of wellness again.

I don’t think I can say it enough... thank you to everyone who has prayed for us, for the friends who gave us airline miles to help get our tickets home, for those who have not forgotten us though the road has been long.

Take a moment to rejoice and marvel with me... I’m still the Mommy!

Built for the Storm

Fri, 30 Apr 2010 20:32:55 -0800

I should absolutely be in bed! Everyone tells me the hope of recovery includes sleep, and it is often the one thing I have a hard time getting. But I just feel so strongly that I need to share with all of my dear blog family out there a timely reminder God sent my way today.

I’ve just hung up the phone from a long chat with Nathan. I’m still sniffling, I was sharing with him some of the things burdening my heart. Physical things, decisions to be made, spiritual things, a potpourri of life, I guess. Part of me feels silly because all these little “issues” don’t even form a walnut at the base of the tree in comparison to the mighty oak of CANCER. Most of them spring from it, but are such really small issues.

But I’m weepy and burdened, wishing and praying for wisdom. I am firmly convinced that it can often take more grace and trust to live the small areas of life than the huge ones!

So, I shared with him what I want to share with you. I caught a bit of Tony Evans preaching on the radio as I drove to the store tonight. I actually pulled off the road to enter some of his thoughts into my ipod, lest I forget them. Here’s the story he told...

They lead cruises to Alaska, I think they charter spots on big ships like Princess or something. They were on just such a cruise when they ran into BAD weather. He said the waves were 45 feet. Everyone was green and sick, and his wife was distressed. She was feeling responsible for all of the passengers on the cruise as their guests.

Finally, she called the captain, and left a message saying that it doesn’t matter if there are paying customers waiting on the other side, she was concerned for their safety! It didn’t take long until the First Mate called back, said he had relayed the message to the Captain, and had a message in return.

The Captain said, “Go to sleep, Mrs. Evans. Go to sleep knowing two things. First, as you sleep, I will stay awake here on the bridge, and I will guide this ship through the storm. Second, go to sleep knowing that this ship was built for this storm. As it was engineered and created, we knew the day would come when this storm would rise, and it was indeed created for this storm.”

Perhaps you needed those words as much as I did today. I can hear the Captain of my Soul speaking now... “Go to sleep, Carlee. I built your ship for this storm, and I will personally steer you through it.” I think I’ll do just that. Goodnight, everyone!

Can you lend me a hand?

Wed, 28 Apr 2010 18:56:01 -0800

Okay, this is a bit out of character, but it seemed like fun, so I decided to try. My favorite fragrance is Wild Ginger by a company called Thymes. I first got a sample of it from Nathan’s sister years ago, and just this year got my first bottle. Hurray! I love it!

I was on their web site the other day and they had this place where you could tell a story about your Mom and what she has “given” you. I immediately thought of the quilt she made me in Anchorage... I had blogged about it back in August ago.  
You tell your story, and if you win, there’s a $300 shopping spree. (Think how many scented draw liners you could get for that?!?!) So, I didn’t really care if I won, but on a whim I decided that I’d be glad for everyone to know how amazing my Mom is. After I entered it, they suggested telling your friends and family to get on and vote for your story... if your story gets the most votes, you win.

So, I decided to tell you all about it, and if you have a few moments, would you hop on www.thymes.com and vote for my story? It would be REALLY fun to bless Mom with that amazing shopping spree after all she has invested in us over this last year. :)

She doesn’t know I did it, but she might find out here. So, Mom, if you’re reading this.... Your life has always been full of such abundant giving, and I’d love to win this for you, so you vote for it too! You just click on the picture of the ladies on their page, and right now my story is the third one.

I won’t be sad if no one has the time to do it... but it’s worth a try! Thanks!

Resting at the Seaside...

Sun, 25 Apr 2010 20:11:03 -0800

Opening the gate to the plow

Sun, 25 Apr 2010 18:50:51 -0800

Wow, it has been TOO long since I have updated this site! Time passes and I am growing stronger in little increments. I don’t really notice it day by day, but over the process of two weeks I’ll realize that a few weeks ago I wasn’t up to this or that activity. It feels wonderful to see progress.

I’m sorry for all the times I thought, “Oh I need to run and post something about this!” or “I need to share that thought with my blog family...” and then never got it done. Life is full and I take too many naps to be as efficient as I would like!

One funny moment I just have to share is when I was typing at the computer one day and heard Noah behind me. “Mommy, is it okay to eat raw honey?” “Sure, Sweetie.” “So, it won’t hurt me to eat this honey raw?” I turned to look at him, a bit curious. To my amusement, he was standing there holding a flower, orange powdery nectar visible in the center. Now that is RAW honey! :)

My main focus the last little while has been getting strength back. Just a few weeks after the radiation ended, my skin finally stopped burning and has begun to heal. What a relief! I’m still working to get the strength in my arm to equal the other one, but it’s coming.

I’m seeing a therapist for my lymph edema, with the hopes we can get the swelling down. It’s slow work, but we’re having some success!

I tried to start the Tykerb again after my severe reaction. Within days the rash began again, on top of severe dizziness and other symptoms. At this point, I’m not taking it any longer. The reactions in my body are just too severe, and it’s surely not in line with our goals of building my body back up after these months of attack on it.

I was able to get away just after Nathan left for one night to be quiet and do some journaling. It was a special time for me to reflect and document some of the process of these last ten months. I’ve been finding myself very tearful again. It’s like I went through a dry time where I was just done crying about everything and focused on just trying to stay on top of life. (Not that I exactly succeeded...)

Recently, I find it easy to cry again. The other night I was marveling again at how I still have pain if I lay on my side because of my mastectomy. Neither side is comfortable, the radiated side I still can not lay on. It was perhaps 3 AM as I shifted about uncomfortably, and I was wondering how long it had been anyway. Five months. Could it really have been five months that I’ve lived with this? After a couple months of NOT crying, I was surprised at the tears that just spilled out.

On my little overnight retreat, I read a bit from A.W. Tozer, a book I found on my parent’s shelf. It’s title is Paths to Power, and it intrigued me. So I am sitting in silence eating my breakfast (that NEVER happens!) when I decided to skip ahead to chapter 4 of this tiny book, “Miracles follow the Plow.” What I read left me crying again, and hopeful...

He starts by talking about fallow ground, “safe and undisturbed” he calls it. “Fruit it can never know because it is afraid of the plow and harrow.”

I’ve always loved analogies, and I seem to think in them. The one that follows was so deeply impacting.

“In direct opposite to this, the cultivated field has yielded itself to the adventure of living. The protecting fence has opened to admit the plow, and the plow has come as plows always come, practical, cruel, business-like, and in a hurry. Peace has been shattered by the shouting farmer and the rattle of machinery. The field has felt the travail of change; it has been upset, turned over, bruised and broken, but its rewards come hard upon its labors... All over the field the hand of God is at work in the age-old and ever renewed service of creation. New things are born, to grow, mature, and consummate the grand prophecy latent in the seed when it entered the ground. Nature’s wonders follow the plow....”

Tozer later stated, “Such a life has put away defense, and has forsaken the safety of death for the peril of life.” Such profundity! Oh, I have felt the shattered peace, the being upset, turned over, bruised and even broken. And yet the hand of God IS at work in this broken life. I find myself anticipating the life that will spring forth after the plowing. I don’t really know what to expect, but I remember the promise from Isaiah 28 that He does not plow forever. I wonder what seeds He has sown?

Someone recently asked me if I’ve just seen all sorts of purpose in my cancer. “I’ll bet you’re amazed at all of the wonderful things that have come as a result of your cancer.” I felt at a loss for words, sure there have been blessings along the way though certainly nothing that seems to justify the horrors.

We have been plowed. (And I know we’re not the only ones!) But it is not without purpose and it will not be wasted. When God permits the plow He plans a harvest. I find myself with a sense of anticipation, even though I’m still wincing from the plowing. I can’t wait to see what He is going to do “in the wake of the plow.”

mini update!

Fri, 2 Apr 2010 18:41:25 -0800

Just a very short hello to every friend who’s keeping up on our lives! Nathaniel is back! Hurray! We’re in the midst of almost two lovely weeks together, and it has been super. He was rested and strengthened by his time away, as well as able to accomplish a LOT in Nome.

I’m doing okay, good days mix with bad, but I think I’m getting a little stronger. The itching is gone, hip Hip HURRAY! My radiation wounds are still painful, the burning has continued. Just today I think I see a bit of progress.

My heart and mind turns often towards home in Nome, but I know I’m not strong enough for the trip let alone tackling life and caring for wee ones on our own. Mom’s been giving Caleb almost all of his care the last two weeks as this right arm of mine has been so weakened and painful. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

Nathan returns to Nome on Tuesday, and we hope that sometime by the middle of May we’ll be well enough to head back. Trusting that one to become clear in time. Thanks for keeping up with us!

Just a funny note... we tried school outside yesterday...stressing the TRIED aspect. It was too fun, distracting, bright, distracting, windy, distracting, etc. So we came in and were learning about rainforest. We’re looking intently at this picture, discussing all of the bugs, monkeys, birds, and other wildlife. I was throwing in a few details of my own, and said, “The rainforest is so amazing, it’s actually where so much of our medicines comes from, and that keeps scientists busy as they are exploring and learning about the wonderful world God made!”

After a while, Shaina looks up at me from her peering intently at the picture. “Mommy, I just don’t see any little bottles there. How do the scientists find the medicine, are they under the leaves?” I haven’t stopped smiling... it was a good question! I knew what I meant, but she surely didn’t. “Honey, I’ll be back... I’m off to the rainforest for some infant tylenol and maybe an ibuprofen or two!”

I’ve been having some recurrence of “chemo brain.” Just foggy inability to say what I’m trying to do. It’s not nearly as sever as before, but enough that I’ve gotten some quizzical looks from the children. (Like when I told Kate to put her french fries on... the mix of trying to get her shoes on while plotting what I was going to get the children at our little McDonald’s outing!)

At Mom’s suggestion (I’m blaming this on her!) I told the children about it, laughingly so they wouldn’t be concerned, but also so they would understand my word mix ups. Now Noah regularly nods knowingly and points to his head. “It’s your brain, Mommy.” Talk about humbling! The problem is, he’s doing it when what I’m saying is just fine! Help! Maybe I’ll just see if they have any brain pills under that rainforest leaf! :)

What’s next?

Sat, 20 Mar 2010 19:08:40 -0800

A lot of people have been wondering how I’m doing and what’s up next for us, so I thought I’d just jump on with a bit of a medical update. On a wonderful note, Caleb is doing great. He’s crawling all over the place like an overgrown grub... he fills his time with eating, laughing, and finding things to get into. He doesn’t like baby toys, he likes vacuums, and shoes, and big people stuff. They’re so much more interesting! I am daily grateful for those who prayed for him as he struggled in those first weeks. What a gift and delight he is to our family! Yesterday he hit the nine month mark. His little life runs parallel to the process of my cancer, and it’s hard to believe that it’s only been nine months in some ways. It feels long, until I look at him, and then I wonder how the time has passed so fast. He is the rose that sits atop our little thorny trials.

I am done, Done, DONE with radiation! Hurray! I feel like I’m out of prison! It wasn’t so bad . The people there were great, it is just that I am no longer tethered to that daily hospital gown, daily awkward pose, and daily hour or so of being a “sick person.”

With the end of radiation also comes the end of Xeloda, the sensitizing chemo I was taking. Three cheers and a run through the Hallelujah Chorus on that one! No more nausea pills and other measly miserable side effects I won’t bore or disgust you with. Done!

Herceptin, the antibody I take by infusion every three weeks will continue until my one year anniversary of starting. I don’t know what I’ll do when it’s all done, the thought of it makes me cry. I can’t imagine the freedom of not planning towards the next infusion!

The Tykerb is the other chemo I am supposed to take with Herceptin till the end. It has had terrific results, up to 51% reduction rate in cancer recurrence. That is HUGE when you consider the horrific things some people do just to get a 5 - 10% reduction. Unfortunately I have had a really sever reaction to it. I take it at night because it makes me rather sick but I can sleep it off and fell better in the morning.

Last week I had Herceptin, and it usually makes me tired, but I hit a wall this round. The next few days I was in bed, not always coherent, had fainting spells, just plain miserable. I am still finding things that I “thought” happened, but were just part of the crazy imagining of those days!

Then the rash started. It was a drive you crazy, walk the halls through the night, I wish I were dead sort of rash. It traveled up my legs, arms, and across my face. It’s a Tykerb rash, and by the time I stopped taking it, I was in bad shape. It would hit worse at night, and freezing my legs in cold water was the only way to deal with it.

Today seems to be relief... the itch is less obsessive. Percocet in stronger doses is the only way I’ve been able to get sleep, and I’ll be glad when this is over. I think it is lessening at last, and I actually slept pretty well last night.

I am supposed to try the Tykerb again, once the reaction is under control, but in lesser doses. I really would like to be able to finish the last three months with this med... I really like the studies I’ve read about with this one. I’m just praying my body will adjust!

We had been praying about taking Adriamycin, a first-line, heavy hitting sort of chemo at the end of my radiation. We really didn’t know how to make this decision, and God mercifully gave us the direction we sought. Through the counsel of several good docs and Scripture, we have made the decision to not take that route.

There were a lot of pieces to the puzzle, but the most special one to me is that Nathan had been reading in Ephesians. He was reading, I think in chapter 5, where it refers to building up the body of Christ and strengthening it that no place would be weak or unable to function. I know that is referring to the Church, but when Nathan was reading it he clearly felt like that was God’s direction for ME right now. It’s not time to be torn down anymore, but now we need to focus on building strength back in my body... rest, supplements, exercise, it all is part of the picture. Sounds good to me!

So, the plan is that Nathan will return for a week long visit here in Ohio on the 24th. We had hoped that we would be heading home then, but the truth is that I am not well or strong enough to make the trip or run a house, especially one with so many wee folks! Dad and Mom have so graciously offered, even asked us to stay until I am stronger. I am not sure how long that will be... a month or perhaps more. We are so grateful to be here, but surely love the thought of going HOME!

The side effects of the radiation (fatigue and burning) will continue to intensify even up until two weeks after my last round. I see it even since Wednesday, my skin continues to break down and has begun to do a lot more bleeding and oozing. I guess the biggest prayer requests now are for the rash to go away, for the radiation effects to not be too severe in this next week or so, and for my strength to increase.

Wow, if you made it to the last paragraph you must really love me! Sorry, I said a “bit” of an update and have rattled on far too long! Thanks for praying, for caring, and for bearing this burden with us. Pray for us to not miss God’s purposes or loose sight of our ultimate goal... His glory. Thank you!

The last half-hour

Wed, 17 Mar 2010 18:55:31 -0800

Shaina believes me. When we learned about fossils and the Grand Canyon in home-school this week, she asked, “Is this a true story, Mommy?” We oohed and aahed at pictures on the internet, and I told her that not only was it a true story, I hoped to take her there some day! Later we hunted through the yard with magnifying glasses, enjoying the 50 degree sunny weather and hunting for fossils.

We found some... shapes of shells pressed into rocks. What fun! As we sorted through piles of rocks, Shaina commented, “Oh look, I see little dinosaur bones!” Okay, so she’s a little zealous when it comes to being a budding rock expert. Then came this observation, “Look at this one, it’s made out of the Grand Canyon.” And she matter-of-factly set it aside to keep hunting.

She was right, it looked like the grand canyon in the internet pictures, reddish with layers of sediment. I wasn’t struck by her powers of observation, however. It was her trust. On the very basis of my word, she had accepted my fanciful story of this huge hole in the earth, and she was willing to base her current existence on my promise of this place. If the Grand Canyon is real, why couldn’t this rock be from there. Okay, so there’s the matter of many hundreds of miles.... really, she doesn’t have the complete picture. But she trusts me.

And I felt my Heavenly Father’s meaningful gaze... “Are you learning something here?” What happened to taking Him at His Word? Trusting that if He said it was so... it was! We give ourselves such license to cheekily cross-examine the Almighty! Especially when He interrupts a very happy life with what our eyes deem a tragedy. What happened to trust? Where now is faith? What if I can’t reconcile all of the details... can I still trust?

No, I’m not saying we should be mindless robots... the garden of Eden proves to us that this is not why we were created. I don’t want that from Shaina... my trusting little 5 year old. I want her to grow and question and learn - and blossom as a result. But I’m honored by her trust. “And without faith it is impossible to please God....” I’m not so sure all of our questioning leads to blossoming... atrophy seems more the fruit I see. Nathan and I have talked recently of the sin of allowing circumstances to bully what we know to be true about God. We’ve both been guilty.

I came across a poem in Streams in the Desert that I had memorized more than a decade ago. There is a statement within it that has become my unspoken mantra... I say it to myself often in a day, and constantly in dark nights of the soul. “I am quietly holding fast to the things that cannot fail.”

In that same devotion (March 5) the statement is profoundly made. “The greatest challenge in receiving great things from God is holding on for the last half hour.”

In the bitter waves of woe
Beaten and tossed about
By the sullen winds that blow
From the desolate shores of doubt,
Where the anchors that faith has cast
Are dragging in the gale,
I am quietly holding fast
To the things that cannot fail.

And fierce though the fiends may fight,
And long though the angels hide,
I know that truth and right
Have the universe on their side;
And that somewhere beyond the stars
Is a love that is better than fate.
When the night unlocks her bars
I will see Him - and I will wait.

sick and tired... again

Thu, 4 Mar 2010 17:39:40 -0900

Well, I keep hoping for a good time to update this blog, and I’m not having a whole lot of good moments just about now, so I’ll type a bit and then head for bed. I’m so humbled to know that dear friends from all over are hoping on my blog and checking for updates, and I’m not posting.... sorry everyone!

I started the additional chemo at the beginning of last week, and my poor body has had quite a time trying to keep chugging along. I had a couple really rough days until I figured out that if I take it before bed I don’t get so sick. I got steadily stronger after that, until Tuesday of this week and I hit a low again that I’m trying to work back from.

I think the chemos combined with radiation are really fatiguing me. I am so tired all the time and sleeping a lot, that’s why I’m not getting emails answered and even getting a chance to visit with friends. If you have sent me an email in the last little while, please know that I so treasure everyone’s words of faith and encouragement, and I WILL get them answered some day!

I’ve also had a lot of extra doctor’s visits the last two weeks, checking problems with my thyroid and a possible ovarian cancer due to a debris-filled cyst that they found. As of today, I have gotten word that BOTH of those issues are not as they had appeared and all is well. I LOVE GOOD NEWS!

These days have been difficult on everyone, I think, but God allows so much fun and laughter as well. Like the time I was making brownies with Wesley. He soberly watched me break the eggs into the bowl and then toss them into the sink in front of him. I walked over to get the oil from the cupboard and turned just in time to see him just as soberly smashing the egg shell halves he had fished out of the sink and dropping them into the pan... just like Mommy!

Then there was the time Shaina and I were working on her math and she is learning about graphs. The book instructs me to fill a bag with toys so we can graph the contents. I’m thinking that there must be an easier way... “Shaina, we are going to graph the mess on the floor that we haven’t cleaned up.” Four shoes, one sippy cup, two scarves, and three dolls later, Shaina had cleaned up nicely and learned about graphs at the same time. I love home schooling! :)

I am truly surrounded by reasons to rejoice! We’re really missing Nathaniel in Alaska, but he is doing well and being able to accomplish a lot on his end of things. Just knowing he got through the pile of mail is a relief to me! Noah, Shaina, and Kate are spending the week with their cousins in PA, and the resulting quiet around here has been odd and wonderful. Wesley misses them but is also rather delighted with his new role as top kid at the house!

I’ve been pondering the term “well-digger” over the last week or so. I met with a pastor from an area church, and as we prayed together, he thanked the Lord for giving me a deep well to draw from in times of difficulty. The phrase really struck me, and I realized that I DO have a deep well. It’s no credit to me, but a tribute to the many people who have been well-diggers in my life. Investing truth and purpose that can be drawn from in times of drought and devastation. How blessed I am with so many who have invested deeply into me!

And I’ve realized that it is the deep longing of my heart to be a well-digger for others. I’ve been reflecting on our ELT (Emerging Leaders in Training) youth team from Alaska. How I miss them! I think the happiest times in recent years have been when Nathan and I have been able to disciple those beloved souls, hopefully adding to the depth in their wells.

There is so much I want to be doing, and it vexes me to just feel like I’m dragging through each day. I want to accomplish something! But, maybe by blogging this journey I can shovel out a bit of the muck of life and make room in your well for a bit more living water. That would be a treasure found along the way.

And even though I’m feeling a bit lonely for my blue eyed sweetheart, and tired, and queasy, and weak... I’ll dip back into that well dug for me by those who have valued what is eternal... just enough for a cup of tea before bed!

A short post to make up for that last one...

Mon, 15 Feb 2010 19:51:24 -0900

Omnipresence

Mon, 15 Feb 2010 19:12:46 -0900

I am sitting in the children’s bedroom practicing omnipresence. To anyone less than two years old, this is the amazing feat a mother has of suddenly appearing the moment he puts his feet out of bed. To the older children, who can see me in the corner behind the suitcase, it’s good amusement. But to Wesley, the determined and unsuspecting culprit, I am indeed God-like. We’ve been practicing catechism with the children, and one of the questions is, “Can you see God?” “No, but God can always see me.” Wesley includes me in that one… his omnipresent Mommy, hiding behind the suitcase, waiting for his wee tootie-toe to even THINK about getting out of bed!

Someday he’ll realize I’m a bit more human than he currently understands. I kind of feel that way about the people around me. I hear comments like, “You’re so strong, you’re so inspiring.” Trust me, when you’re in my skin, you’re not very inspired by yourself! It must be because…. Excuse me, we interrupt this blog post….

Okay, make that two culprits back in bed. I guess Kate is young enough to fall for omnipresence even when I’m in plain sight.

Anyway, It reminds me of an old Twila Paris song I loved as a teenager, “Warrior is a Child.” The chorus speaks of dropping your sword to cry for a while, and looking up for a smile, “Deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child.”

I guess the picture is that our opponents are always larger than we can handle. I’m sure that’s how our enemy the devil likes to play it, make our battle big enough to totally overwhelm us. I guess in some ways he’s as silly as Kate, not seeing the obvious outcome to getting out of bed when Mommy is sitting in the corner. Doesn’t he see how Almighty God uses his strategy against him? If we are just wise enough to see that we can’t fight it and run for refuge… we have such promises… assurance that these trials will strengthen and refine us. The very thing sent to destroy us is used for our blessing. Like Jacob wrestling the angel, blessed by his attacker.

I mentioned running for refuge, and I’m learning a new lesson… that sometimes there is no refuge in sight. It never shows up. The battle comes, and goes, and it seems that the reinforcements were never sent. I guess that’s where Nathaniel and I have been the last while. I think before cancer I glibly thought that there was always a hero’s rescue before things got too dark. Now I firmly believe that there are things that cannot be reconciled this side of heaven. It doesn’t make God less the hero, it just reaffirms what I always knew, that His ways are not mine, but I WOULD choose them if I could see from His perspective.

I don’t know the answer, and maybe that’s why I know I’m not strong or inspirational. I’m uncertain at best. Well, uncertain of what I can see. I’m not uncertain of what I KNOW. A wise person once stated to never doubt in the darkness what you knew in the light.

I know that God’s Word is true and full of life. I know that He uses trials in His children’s lives. I know that He has allowed His children to face hard… even unthinkable things here on earth, but promises that this life is just a vapor, and that eternity will make it worth the cost. I know from looking at the lives of other’s that trails can turn to gold, I can look back on stories like Joseph and see that his heartaches were not wasted. It still doesn’t make me want to have cancer for the virtue of it, but it assures me that I am NOT exposed and abandoned, even though I may feel like I am.

Hmmm, I’m not sure if I wrote that for you all or for me! The room is growing more quiet, and restless bodies are being stilled and I can hear the sound of thumbs being sucked. It’s a blessed thing to drift off to sleep, safe and warm and unconcerned.

Enough rambling, let me fill everyone in on the last little while. I’m not sure how to do it in a concise manner, there’s so much going on! I’ll try to be brief…

My visit at the Ireland Cancer Center in Cleveland went well. We liked the doctor and received some good insights. We’ve pretty much had a general consensus that I should do these two lighter doses of chemo. One during radiation and one after. I actually started on the Xeloda last night. I didn’t start immediately because I needed a sense of peace that it was the right thing to do, and I was honestly so tired and overwhelmed I didn’t feel up to dealing with any side effects that might occur. Gratefully, I seem to be okay so far, just a bit of an upset stomach.

Radiation started just over a week ago. I’m starting to get a bit red, but nothing severe. I go every afternoon, and so far it has been fairly uneventful. I have a few other health issues... it may mean some testing, but hopefully all is okay. Honestly, I just wish I could be an ostrich and stick my head in the sand when it comes to tests, taking my vitamins, everything. Can I quit yet? Okay, just had a mental parade of five sweet little sets of blue eyes... I’ll take my vitamins again.

We were very blessed with a phone consultation with the Deputy Physician-in-Chief for breast cancer programs at Memorial Sloan-Kettering in New York. It seems we have a mutual friend, thanks Isaac! :) His recommendations were encouraging on one side, distressing on the other. He wants me to do a pretty heavy chemo after radiation, and the side effects can be pretty extreme. He was very strong in his encouragement, and we value his advice, but also know that these final decisions need to be ours. Please pray that we will know what to do! We have a month or so to decide.

Our biggest battle just now is that Nathan is now back in Alaska. I found myself with tears just under the surface all day today, feeling a little lost and alone. I miss him so much, but with much prayer and contemplation, we felt that this was the right decision. He will be coming back in just over five weeks, at the end of my radiation. How blessed we are with phones and computers and video chat!

Noah summed it up as he cut his pancakes the day before Nathan left... “This pancake was perfect, just like our family, but now it is all cut.... a ..pa..r..t.....(dissolve into tears)” Even my little ones are learning what it is to have sorrow for a companion. She is not altogether unkind, however. And their resilient little hearts are doing well. Please pray for us in this time apart, though... and thank you!

Just a quick update on our friends Paul and Kathy before I close... they were in the accident I told you about in my last post. Gratefully, Kathy passed the dangerous place where her life was threatened, and they are beginning to heal. The process will be so extensive so I am sure they are grateful for continued prayers.

Wow, it all makes me just wish to remind you to keep the bulk of your treasures of the eternal variety... and all else you have hold loosely. This isn’t our heaven.

Off To Ireland

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 19:17:09 -0900

Well, I’m not EXACTLY off to Ireland.... But sort of. At University Hospital in Cleveland they have the very respected Ireland Cancer Center, and a door has opened for me to go and meet with a doctor there for a second opinion. They have what is called a multi-disciplinary approach, and it means that all of the docs and specialists will review my case and talk it over, and I was strongly encouraged to seek out a place that would handle it in this way. Honestly, it was no science to it... just a lot of recommendations, so I called them, and the secretary was shocked to find an appointment three days later. She repeatedly said, “This never happens!” I prayed for open doors, and this seems to be one!

I am also supposed to start radiation tomorrow afternoon, and as a result my new regimen of chemo as well. I had really been praying for a chance to talk to another doctor before I started radiation, and this is cutting it close, but definitely a relief to me. I truly don’t know if I’m going to do the chemo pills... we are praying, and seeking God. I love the thought of 51% reduction of recurrence rate, but chemo is a scary thing. Just opening up the fedex box and looking at the pills left me crying on Nathan’s shoulder last night. I don’t want to do this again!

I’ve just started then erased three different paragraphs trying to say something profound. Purposefully pushed profundity is pathetic. :) The truth is I haven’t any depths of insight to impart... it’s really quiet, and I’m still waiting for the picture to come into focus myself. I stand in this certainty with my newly comprehended friend Job, “But He knows the way that I take, when He has tried me, I will come forth as gold.” (Job 23:10)

One last thought... He knew the way my friends took when a drunk driver smashed into their vehicle and almost took their lives. Paul and Kathy Martin gave their lives to Christ when I was still living at home and never looked back... we attended church together, and their teenage boys were my Children’s Church assistants long before I got married. Kathy and I put on a girl’s retreat for the youth from the church, and her fervent spirit deeply impacted me. They left our church to be missionaries in Ukraine, and then have been pastoring in Indiana. Now they have both suffered horrifying injuries in this accident, and Kathy’s life is threatened due to a tear in her aorta. I know that there are thousands of praying people who check this blog, I’m so humbled by your concern for me and my family. Will you pray as well for this dear family, and for Kathy in particular.

My friend Lisa shared with me today that a FACT is restricted by time. TRUTH transcends time. The fact is that I have cancer, but a moment could change that if God would choose. The fact was that Paul and Kathy were the picture of health. In a second that changed as well. We are not prisoners of the facts that can overwhelm when we are possessors of the Truth that can liberate us. That realization brings a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. All of these facts could be irrelevant tomorrow... so I wait and hope and keep the faith. Thank you for praying!

Moments from the Museum
(Or as Kate calls it, “Thanks for letting me play in the bathtub at the zoo!”)

Words of Wisdom

Fri, 29 Jan 2010 18:54:24 -0900

I’m skimming through an old book about Georgi Vins in available moments here and there. He was a man of great honor and faithfulness in the face of persecution. He includes a letter from his father Peter who actually died in a Siberian prison camp. What is it about Jesus that takes wimpy, comfort loving, self-preserving mankind and makes them willing to suffer anything rather than deny Him? Peter Vins wrote “It is better to be with Him in prison than at liberty without Him.”

He also wrote a gripping statement in a New Year letter to encourage the believers in Christ. As a man who understands suffering and distress, he spoke to my heart, and I wanted to share it with you.

“Yet another year has come to it’s end.
A year which seems to have begun only yesterday.
A year which has brought to many of the Lord’s faithful no little grief, suffering, and hardship.
A year when more than one tear was shed.
A year when the Lord like an eagle destroyed through circumstances more than one nest of cherished hopes, dreams, and private plans, but then caught us up and bore us on His wings, to teach us to walk by faith and not by sight, that is, by senses and feelings.”

I heard someone on the radio last night talking about “senses and feelings.” They were saying that when you are at the bottom of a situation, you must climb up the ladder of your “knowings.” The things you know to be true, but may not feel so certainly.

So here are a few rungs on the ladder of my knowing. As I wrote in my very first blog post about cancer, I’ll start there again...

- God is good. He was before cancer, and He still is now.
- God is trustworthy, though not understandable
- God is working on a bigger canvas than I can comprehend
- He weeps with us as we suffer (This is a new realization for me. Watch Jesus at Lazarus’ tomb, weeping and groaning three different times even though He knew the end was great! He hurt to see the toll of evil on those He loved. After my surgery I asked while looking in that awful mirror, “Does this even matter to You that this had to happen to me?” I got my answer while reading about Lazarus’ tomb.)
- Better to be facing Cancer as a child of God than healthy without Him
- Every day has the opportunity to rejoice

Add a few rungs of your own, and let’s climb!

at times a good laugh is just what the doctor ordered!

Tue, 26 Jan 2010 11:37:05 -0900

I hope the little video above give you all a smile like it did for us. Caleb is just delighted when his big brothers and sisters take the time to entertain him, he doesn’t realize he’s really the one putting on the show!

I’ve spent the morning on the phone with various and sundry doctor’s offices, and figured I had better let everyone know where we are at medically. I was seen by an oncologist at Akron General who agreed with a recommendation from Alaska, which is to put me on Xeloda. It is a chemo pill, less harsh than an infusion, and it makes the cells in the body very susceptible to radiation. I would take it along with radiation.

The thinking is that my chance of cancer returning to the original site is over 25% and the only known way to improve that chance is radiation. That may bring my numbers down a lot, so if we can make that radiation MORE effective, the better chance I have of not having a recurance there. The problem is that with increased damage to the cancer cells, we’re also increasing the damage to everything else the radiation touches. (More burning, scarring, etc.)

There is another chemo pill also being suggested which I would take along with herceptin until the end of my “cancer year.” It’s called Lapatinib or Tykerb. According to Wikipedia, it has really complex and limited usage... it must be used with Xeloda, it must be for a HER2+ cancer that has already been treated with the exact chemo I have had, and not had sufficient results. Well, I qualify for that, and the site also says that in those settings, it has reduced recurrence by 51%. I love big numbers that are for me, not against me!

So, we’re still trying to seek a further opinion... I found out today that Cleveland Clinic will not see me due to my medicaid in Alaska. One door closed, we’re praying about the next one to open. So many people have been concerned, sent recommendations, etc. Thank you SO much for caring for us, and we’re following up on every lead we get, trusting the Lord to direct us to the right place.

The question I’m wrestling with is if I am indeed to take these additional chemos. It may be easier to tolerate, but it is still poison. Will you pray with me that we will feel clear direction for how to proceed?

Oh yes, some good news. I had a PET scan yesterday to check again for additional tumors, and nothing was found. They’d have to be pretty big to show up, but hurray for a clear scan!

I’ve got to run, more contacts to make! Thanks for reading and caring about us!

A warrior’s memories

Sun, 24 Jan 2010 20:33:15 -0900

I sat tonight and listened to my Grandpa share stories about the battle of Iwo Jima where he was wounded in the war. It was a really special to share the time with him, and I felt honored to be a recipient of his musings. As the conversation progressed he shared about how you become accustomed to things that can in the first place be so terrifying. What once horrified you becomes the norm.

I guess it’s kind of how we were created... you can only bear so much distress and then you eventually start to cope. There have been places through this whole process where I have been deeply overwhelmed, felt pain that feels unbearable, and haven’t wanted to cope with the every day elements of life. I’m grateful to say they aren’t daily or even often. Praise God for putting optimism in my psyche! For the most part I’m just living life, enjoying the moments, grateful for the blessings.

But it’s been a bit harder the last week or so. Unlike the normal way I operate, I’ve been finding myself so bummed that I have cancer, so disheartened at my physical self, and just so sick of the process. It’s not typical for me, and I don’t like it. There is a place in me that wants to write out a permission slip to be mopey, kind of like a day off for good behavior...”After six months of good attempts and general success at being perky, Carlee Hobbs is entitled to one week of a self pity and general grungy feeling.”

But that little voice of truth inside keeps interrupting me just when I’m about to sink into a luxurious bout of the doldrums, “This is when it matters... when it’s hard. This is when it counts, when effort is required.” Who cares if you ace the pop quizzes and fail the final exam?

I’ve been blessed with several voices of confirmation to that thought. One came from a sermon by Tony Evans called “God’s Trickbag.” Oh wow. He looks at different places where God contradicts Himself in Scripture. He reminds us that even when you’re doing exactly what you’ve been told, you can suddenly find yourself in a storm. Like when Abraham was told to sacrifice Isaac. Not only did it look like the loss of the promise, it was against God’s law to kill! This is crazy stuff!

His main illustration was the disciples on the sea when Jesus said to go to the other side. They’re just busy obeying Him when a storm comes that seems to threaten their very existence. He said when God puts you in that trick bag with no way out, that He is about to take you to a deeper place spiritually.

That’s timely encouragement, because I’m feeling the trick bag effect. One of the things we’re exploring are some alternative treatments, some would even involve going out of the country. Some have come to us very highly suggested, and it’s all really intriguing. But it has such a barb, because we both agree that we couldn’t follow these programs and remain in Nome. Could God really want us to do something that would compromise our calling and purpose? We are certain that God wants us to be living and serving in Alaska. Ouch, it’s like a check book that won’t balance!

Tony Evans makes so many profound statements through the sermon, and one that has deeply struck me is the reminder that while the disciples are in this storm on the sea, and they see Jesus coming towards them, they freak out. Why? They don’t recognize him, and that is simply because they weren’t expecting Him in that dark hour. There is a little fear in me that if I let my “issues” loom to large in my sight that I’ll stop looking for Jesus to come across the sea, stomping my storm under His feet.

Dani wrote a song for me back in the beginning of this whole journey, she calls it “The Climb.” As a Christmas gift she recorded it with the children so I could have it on my ipod. It is priceless to me, and in the words I hear her heart of faith for me. The last verse says, “A while ago I looked up - saw the place where I’m at now and prayed, - “God, I can’t go there, don’t ask me to!” - But now that I’m here - I see the beauty all around me - for Jesus really does make all things new.”

I have to admit I’m not seeing much beauty or newness here. Maybe I’ve got on the wrong glasses, maybe the storm has become too big in my eyes and is obscuring the identity of the One who walks over these waves.

I’m going to post Dani’s song here so you can hear it. And I think maybe I’ll listen again... better yet, I think I’ll sing along! “ So my heart takes courage and my eyes look up...”

Another brief update

Sat, 16 Jan 2010 20:14:40 -0900

Well it’s another brief update here. It’s been a busy but good week. I just typed a message for our home church in Nome, and I’m once again going to copy it here. My lymph edema has been a bit better, but my hand is still so puffy. Typing still makes that worse. For the first time in months, it seems to me that the Lord is lingering near, I’m crying a lot more but feeling comforted a lot more too. Hmmm, odd significance there.

I thought you’d enjoy some pics of what we’re up to here. We just celebrated Christmas with my grandparents tonight. It was so fun! Grandma even left up the Christmas decorations for us! An amazing family we had never even met brought dinner for our family on a really busy and overwhelming day. More than the amazing food they shared with us (Have you ever had carrot soufflé’ - How have I lived so long without knowing about carrot souffle’?) I was blessed by the knowledge that they had been praying for us for so long. It is humbling and enriching to be loved by strangers!

God gave me grace in my radiation prep... my mobility after surgery is still limited, and trying to lift my arms into the braces so they could prepare me for laser placement was excruciating. I honestly didn’t think I could do it, but somehow the grace was there and it’s over. Yeah! Things seem to move a bit slowly there, but I am so hopeful to start as soon as possible.

If you don’t mind reading someone else’s mail, I’m going to once again copy the letter I just sent to Nome Covenant. It seems the easiest way to get this updated and still get some sleep tonight!

Dear Church Family,

I have heard of your sacrificial fasting and prayer for us, and I just want you to know how very grateful I am.   My radiation prep is completed, I am just awaiting them to schedule my first treatment.   Hopefully monday will see that finalized.

I feel that the Lord has really been unifying Nathaniel and my heart as we have talked through options and about how to proceed.   I'll bet that's a direct answer to someone's prayer there at Nome Covenant.   Thank you!   We've been looking at everything from traditional stuff at top cancer centers to unconventional stuff out of the country.   Our hearts are very open to what God would have us do.   We're weeding through piles of paperwork, suggestions, phone numbers to call.   A few things have clarified, and we have pursued appointments with those doctors.

One doctor it seems to be impossible to get in to, but she keeps rising to the top as the next consultation we need to make.   On Friday we had some special time in prayer that the Lord would open a door if He was wanting us to get an appointment (it is at the Cleveland Clinic Cancer Center.).   Within an hour, someone from their office actually called us!   Through a set of small miracles, I ended up on the phone with Nicole, who is very interested in our situation and asked us to send my files.   She's working to figure out exactly who we are supposed to see, and seems to be really purposeful in making sure that I will be able to consult there.   I am so grateful to the Lord for working this out, and I'm praying that He will work through Nicole and enable her to connect the necessary dots to get us in there quickly.

Soon after I was diagnosed, I was reading about Paul and Silas in prison.   I always know about how they were freed from their chains, but this time I noticed what preceded.   They were stripped, beaten, unjustly tried, taken to the inmost cell, put in stocks, and then they sat in pain as the hours passed.   At last we find them singing at midnight.   I see in that story that God sometimes asks His children to wait a long time while a lot goes wrong.    I suppose they would have been glad to never be arrested, even as I would gladly have never had cancer.   I don't know what is ahead in this story God is writing for us.   I'd like to think it's near midnight, and He's about to blow the bars of this joint, and we will be freed from this prison of sickness and pain.   But maybe it's only 9:00 PM, and there are long hours to pass ahead.   I know some of you are in your own cells, different than mine, but nonetheless trying to our souls.   Let's not give the enemy a single moment of victory.   Let's not take the easy road of doubt and blame.   What do you say we sing together till midnight comes?   May the chorus send the enemy fleeing and rejoice the heart of our Savior.

I love you all so much!
Singing with you, Carlee for Nathaniel as well

IN THE CASE OF UNCERTAINTY...

Tue, 12 Jan 2010 20:51:57 -0900

Better safe than sorry! I just wanted to clarify a bit of my last post that has caused some confusion. I mentioned in the letter to my church that the cancer is assumed to have traveled to the rest of my body, though it has not formed tumors that we know of, etc.

Please understand that I am not saying that I have cancer everywhere in the sense of having it metastasized in my lungs, brain, and other spots. I am simply saying that the lymph system is the door to the body. If those nodes hold back the cancer it is localized to the breast. They did not, they were overcome by the cancer, and thus my doctors assume that they’re floating throughout my system, seeking residence.

Hopefully the naturopathic things that I am taking along with herceptin and God’s mercy will block those cells from forming a new cancer. The odds are against that, but hope is not.

So to those of you who were picturing my body full of disease, I’m actually fine just now! It is the risk being so high that has my docs concerned.

Psalm 3 talks about God breaking the teeth of our enemies and saving us. I had pictured those cells almost like wolves, breaking through the protection of my lymph system and seeking to devour me left and right. Now I’m picturing these little pac-man like cells, gumming their way around until my immune system kills them, unable to do harm because they’re teeth are broken! Hurray!

Not much new, just waiting for doctor’s visits, following up leads, and trying to catch up from jet lag! Thanks again for praying!

“I’m Leavin’ on a jet plane... don’t know when I’ll be back again”

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 20:17:45 -0900

Hello, friends from all over! Sorry for my long silence here on this blog. I’m writing from my Parent’s basement. It is finished so nicely into a great apartment, providing us with a little home for as long as we need it.

So much has happened in the last weeks. Returning from surgery, Holidays, sending off Dani, Dad, and Noah and Shaina to Ohio ahead of us, tests and visits in Anchorage, then the big trip down here. I’m exhausted! It’s good to be here safe and sound and reunited as a family. The children’s reunion at the airport was incredible. They were shouting each other’s names and embracing with gusto I couldn’t have dreamed of. Little Wesley kept shouting, “Wo-wah, Wo-wa!” That’s what he calls Noah, and they are still seeming to enjoy being all together again.

I have been meaning to type here for weeks that my chemo brain symptoms have totally left. Praise the Lord! Thanks to everyone who prayed, it was NOT permananet. My lymphedema has gotten much worse, my hand and wrist are constantly swollen, and unfortunately, typing seems to make it even worse. We’re doing massage and I’m wearing a pressurized sleeve and glove to help keep it down.

As a result, I’m not going to type much here, the swelling is already increasing. Soon I’ll try again, there’s lots I wish I could share. Jesus has been very near these last days, for the first time in many long months, I can sense His close comfort. God’s Word has been very alive, and I’m grateful for the truths I have been finding there.

For the sake of sparing typing, I’m going to copy a letter uf update I sent to our church in Nome. It will help you understand where we’re at and how to pray more clearly. Please do keep praying! When they talk about my “odds” the picture is rather bleak. Sometimes you just have to find something to laugh at, so here’s one from Kate.

She informed my Dad tonight that the “A B C D E H I K Truck” was here. He was a bit confused. Then I realized that Kate had heard Mom mention the U P S truck. It just sounded like random letters to her! :)

Here’s the letter to the church... I’ll write more as I can! Oh yes, one last thing, I have an appointment with a specialist but not till February. I can call daily to see if there are cancellations, and I’m praying that something will open up soon! I’ll keep you posted!

Letter...

Greetings to the saints who are in Nome!   Your prayers for us are of such precious importance that I wanted to be sure you were updated following our visits with the surgeon and oncologist in Anchorage.   Let me first of all remind you and myself that our hope is in God - HE who formed and sustains us.

I'm not sure how to share all of this briefly, so please excuse the bluntness.   There is no consensus among my doctors or those that they sent my reports to for counsel. My oncologist basically stated that the assumption is that because surgery found my lymph system so packed with the aggressive cancer that it has indeed spread to the rest of my body.   As far as we know it has not begun forming tumors, but my rate of recurrence elsewhere is extremely high.   (I interrupt with a happy thought... we serve a God who loves to show up and demonstrate His power when the odds are stacking up against success!)

Some feel that I should continue with radiation and nothing else, basically just hoping it doesn't show up elsewhere or at least not for a while.   Others feel that I should try some sort of chemo basically out of compassion.   It's a shot in the dark because there are very few cases of my exact situation, and absolutely no studies that suggest what drug would be right to treat this.   They feel better to try something and hope it would work than to just wait for it to show up again.   They have encouraged me to seek specialists and second opinions and basically left it up to us without a specific recommendation.   There is no tried method to help at this point.

Already the Lord has begun to open doors for us, the top breast specialist at Cleveland Clinic is a friend of a friend and willing to meet with us.   We meet with my radiation oncologist on Monday. We need wisdom and guidance, God alone knows what we should do and how He intends to work.   Thank you for praying for us.   Psalm 3 has been blessing me with it's reminder of where our confidence should be...

"Lord, how they are increased who trouble me! Many are saying, 'There is no help for her in God.' But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.   Salvation belongs to the Lord."

Nathan would like me to add that he is very aware that Satan's goal in our trials is to get us to damn God.   But we will choose to praise God who has already conquered him.   The Lord reminded Nathan of a statement He had given on our wedding day.   "Sheep may safely graze where the Shepherd has led them to pasture." It may not feel safe, but if the Shepherd led us here, He is the One keeping watch.   In that knowledge, we trust and we praise.

We love you!   Carlee for Nathaniel and the hobbits

We’re Home in Nome!

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 21:44:19 -0900

Hello from my very own couch by my very own Christmas tree where my very own sweet children are sleeping in their little beds. Deep sigh of contentment...... I’m home! Gratefully we were able to return Saturday evening just before a blizzard hit.

I’m exhausted, after the slower pace in Anchorage, this day full of the children’s Christmas program followed by a church potluck and lots of children’s hugs in between has worn me out! It’s a good sort of feeling, though, and I am so grateful to be back with my family.

I have to return on Tuesday for another visit with my surgeon, but I can hopefully go in the morning and return in the evening without overnighting in Anchorage.

I’m still in a good bit of pain... more after a day of unintentional jostling from children... they’re trying to be careful but they’re also a bit forgetful. Gratefully, things seem to healing fairly well. Nerve pain in my arms is the biggest frustration, and that can only take time.

We have no new plans. My Dad is coming in on Tuesday so we are hoping to enjoy Christmas here in Nome as a family. In the beginning of January we are still planning to travel to Ohio to begin my radiation treatment. On the way there, we will meet with my doctors regarding any new plans for treatment. By then my reports will have returned from the specialists looking at them. Until then, we’re just hoping to enjoy some family time.

I’m so grateful for everyone’s prayers. A few specifics would be -

- For my continued healing, and that my body will absorb the fluid that it is retaining in my wounds (It has to be removed by needle and syringe by my surgeon. OUCH!)
- For protection from the rambunctious loving of my wee folks. I’m home, but can’t even lift the baby, so Mom and Dani are carrying so much of the load.
- Wisdom for doctors as they are examining my reports
- For Nathaniel as he tries to get back into work, but is very concerned for me as well. He’s bearing such a load and your prayers mean a lot.
- A praise to the Lord for the wonderful friends in Anchorage who ministered so deeply to us. God’s family is amazing!

We are so honored that you all take time out of your holidays to pray for us. God bless you!

A quick news brief

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 23:10:25 -0900

Hello everyone! Yup, Nathaniel and I are still here in Anchorage, and Mom and Dani are still holding down the fort in Nome. I just wanted to jump on and give a quick update, I know you all are praying for us and I am so grateful.

Today is eleven days after surgery, and it has been a long road. I was released Monday night, and recovery has been much slower than we had hoped, but at least it has been steady.

My drain on the left side (with only two lymph nodes removed) came out pretty quick. Ouch! The right side drain is where I had all of the lymph nodes removed, and it is still causing some trouble. I need it to drain less than 20 cc’s for two days straight before I can get it out (and go home!) and were at 30 cc’s today.

I’ve done almost nothing because I have had a lot of pain. But the last two days I’ve been feeling better, and last night I decided to try to scrapbook a little. We’re talking scissors, a little glue... and while reaching to the trash can I succeeded in ripping out my stitches on one of the tubes going into my side, thus pulling out the drain tube about an inch. WOW! I didn’t know scrapbooking was dangerous. It’s been very painful, but still seems to be draining.

I guess my prayer request is for the wounds to heal well and dry up so I can get the drains out, and for a decrease in the pain I am having. Most of all, just for the clean bill of health to head home to Nome. I have my herceptin infusion tomorrow, as well a few more doctor’s visits in the next days.

As far as our hearts, we’re swimming in some deep waters. Please keep praying, we were blessed with a teaching series from James McDonald about suffering. We’ve been going through it bit by bit, and the Lord is using it to strengthen our hearts.

I know it’s just a short post, but my arms have a hard time holding typing position for too long just now. May God be near and dear to you this Christmas!

My new weight loss program

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 06:54:55 -0900

Well, I wouldn’t suggest it to anyone, but as the nurse weighed me at my oncologists, I had indeed lost a few pounds. Mastectomy surgery has a way of doing that to you... and I think it was the only time I wasn’t glad to see the scale go down! Five babies in the last seven years hasn’t exactly been kind to my waistline. It surely has filled my house with treasure, though!

I lost more than my breasts last week, I lost a lot of blood. My counts were already low, and during surgery I received a transfusion of my own blood, I had donated it the week before. My doctors were pretty concerned and the day after surgery my counts hadn’t gone down, but hadn’t gone up really either. They said we’d talk transfusion on Sunday. By God’s grace, on Sunday my counts had begun to move up just a bit, and I didn’t have to do that.

My blood is still low, and recovery has been slow, so I would be grateful if you would keep praying that the Lord will help my body to restore itself. I am indeed so grateful for your prayers. There have been some very dark shadows this last week, but also some places of blessing and peace.

I also lost a lot of lymph nodes. Two on the left side, where we rejoice to report that NO CANCER was found. Hurray! Seventeen on the right side, where six showed signs of having been full of cancer that was destroyed by the chemo. Only scar tissue remained. Hurray again!

In the right breast, where my tumor had been 95% aggressive invasive, and only 5% of the low lying, slower moving, ductal carcinoma in situ - they found no trace of the aggressive cancer. It is gone. Hurray, Hurray, HURRAY! These are excellent results, and my spirits are preparing to soar...

But there is a silver bullet, splicing through that good news, that has been threatening to tail-spin Nathaniel and I. In one lymph node, a small aggressive tumor was found. It is tiny, just 1.2 centimeters. But it’s there. In my lymph node. The gateway to the rest of my body.

No one is sure how it survived the chemo that destroyed everything else. And no one knows if it is the only one... or if in the lymph nodes that remain in me, higher up and deeper in, if there are more little tumors.

Terrible thought and blessed thought! It isn’t gone! That horrible little tumor means that somewhere the aggressive cancer survived. We still don’t know if radiation can clean up what remains. What does remain? Yet it IS gone, that surgery means that tiny tumor is no longer spreading in me. Maybe by God’s grace it is the only one, and He guided my doctor’s hand so that she got it....

They also found extensive cancer in my lymph system, the ducts and pathways leading between them. The cancer had spread into them, possibly following those little roads to other destinations. Once again, there is no certainty that ALL has been removed of the lymph system. And thus we have radiation scheduled in January.

Hopefully radiation will clean it all up, get the little pieces that could have been left by surgery. That was the plan from the beginning. But that little tumor has my doctor’s scratching their heads. They have admitted their uncertainty, and my pathology reports are being sent to other experts around the country.

The other option is to take chemo again, this time DURING my radiation. Better results in killing the cancer perhaps, but also a much deeper toll on my body. That is the question being asked of these other specialists, is more chemo worth the risk? I desperately hope they say NO! And then, in my mind, I see the six sets of blue eyes that make up my sweet little family, and I’m determined to do whatever I must to beat this nasty thing.

The truth is, only God knows if there is more cancer and how we should beat it. I am crying out to Him that my reports would fall into that hands of wise counselors, and that once again He would guide and direct us as we choose treatment. How I praise Him for His guidance thus far! I came 99% of the way to choosing to NOT have my lymph nodes removed, I was certain cancer was not there. But my peace eroded, and I prayerfully changed my mind. How I have rejoiced that as a result, that little aggressive tumor is gone from me!

We wanted a quick, easy recovery. It has been slow and hard. We wanted a clear cut clean pathology report. It has filled us with questions and uncertainty. In all honesty, it felt like a death sentence yesterday. Maybe I’m not going to get better. It has been a really hard thought to face again.

I was crying in a restaurant last night, Nathan had stepped away from the table and my tears were flowing. Wow, satan jumps on bad new with a lot of dark thoughts, and I was suddenly drowning in them. Like a shaft of light, Truth broke through. My trust is not in a pathology report! It never has been, and it never will be. My trust is in the Lord! He is my Keeper, my Maker.... He knows if there is more cancer and what the end result will be. He will be faithful through this all, I know it. I would be rejoicing if all is well, but that could have been because the Doctor had missed the tumor in the lymph node. No, truly, my only trust is in the Lord.

So that brings us up to this morning, where I’m still going through the kleenex as I write this. We’re a bit worn down by a week of pain and loss. How grateful I am for the prayers of so many, for the loving kindness of dear friends and fellow believers here in Anchorage that has blessed and uplifted us.

It seems like we’ll be here in Anchorage at least through the 17th. I’m missing my wee ones with an intense ache, but I know they’re doing well in the care of Mimi and Aunt Dani. I think my blood restoration has a lot to do with my slow recovery, and I am praying that my counts will return to healthy and that I can soon be stronger and in less pain.

Thank you a thousand times, dear people that hold us in your hearts and prayers. Pray for my sweet husband, his burden is great. Pray for my Mom too, she went through all of this here and then off to care for wee ones and It’s a lot to bear. Pray that we would be faithful to the Lord and the Truth in the face of many questions. And please pray, that if it would be the Lord’s will, that this cancer would indeed be destroyed, that radiation would be successful, and that I get to be Nathaniel’s wife and my children’s Mommy for a LONG time!

Surgery Tomorrow

Thu, 3 Dec 2009 21:10:51 -0900

This picture struck me as I was looking for something to open this blog post. What a happy day our wedding was! This man that God had blessed me with swept me off my feet and carried me into this unknown of marriage. Eight years later we are limping a bit, neither of us so strong as to carry each other, but these years have taught us both to lean hard on the third member of our union.... Almighty God. What a relief that tomorrow isn’t dependent on just us.

7:30 AM I head in for prep for my 9:00 AM surgery. I will have a bi-lateral mastectomy, the right side will have all of the lymph nodes removed as well due to the cancer found in those nodes this summer. The left side will have only a few lymph nodes removed, it’s mostly a precaution, but there is a slight possibility of cancer being there as well.

I don’t have much to say, honestly not feeling very chatty tonight. I am so grateful for the prayers of you dear people who are carrying our burden along with your own. Grateful for Ruthann who just arrived in Nome to help my brother and sister with the children, grateful for my dear Mother who is by my side once again, and for Nathaniel... still the man that I love! We’re none of us mighty, Please keep praying!

I guess I just want to declare that I still trust the Author of my biography. I still love Him, and I will take difficult places as a child of God over any peaceful palace far from Him. He’s not FEELING very near tonight, but I was told long ago to never doubt in the darkness that of which I was certain in the light.

iTunes is playing Aaron Espe in the background, a young musician who came here to Nome several years ago. His song “Be bold, Son” just came on, I’m taking it as my word for tonight from my Father in heaven.....

“Don’t look back, you’ve come so far,
It’s safe where you are.

Don’t be scared, you’re not alone,
so far from home.

And don’t play timid, don’t play cold,
Be bold, Son! Be bold, Son.
You’ll wish you had when the day is done,
Be bold, Son! Be bold, Son.

Look ahead, that’s where you’ll be.
Do you believe me?

And don’t be scared ‘cause you’ve gone so far,
It’s safe where you are.

And don’t play timid, don’t play cold,
Be bold, Son! Be bold, Son.
You’ll wish you had when the day is done,
Be bold, Son! Be bold, Son.

Sing out, sing out, sing out!

I do believe You, and I will sing.

Longings

Sun, 8 Nov 2009 15:22:33 -0900

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all of my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this.” - Jewel the Unicorn

This ranks with my favorite quotes of all times. It stirs my soul. Just as we laugh at jokes we can identify with, I love this so deeply because I see myself here. I’m having one of those unsettled days. Do you ever have them? You find yourself sad for no reason... no not quite sad. More of a sense of LONGING.

This quote is from C.S. Lewis’ “The Last Battle.” It takes place as the few faithful Narnian’s have actually met their death in the final battle, and in walking through a great door, have found themselves in a new land, a country they have never been to, yet it is so familiar. They begin to realize that the Narnia they had loved was really just a shadow, and THIS is the true Narnia, the place they were always destined for.

It is a picture of heaven. Those senses of longing that seem to have no source and no resolution, the ability to be laughing and suddenly end with a sigh... I firmly believe it is because this is not our home. We are living in the shadowlands, and our spirits long for our real country.

I was napping in the living room this Sunday afternoon but found myself feeling uneasy. “Why am I sad, Jesus?” It’s been a pretty good day overall, I stayed home with the kiddos from church but we had a good little church service of our own. Shaina led the singing (Jesus loves me) and Kate was supposed to take the offering. First she brought up her Bible to our piano bench pulpit and preached a little abstract sermon... something about Baby Jesus being so cute and getting a new pacifier when he was sad. Three year old theology isn’t real deep. :) Noah preached about Moses, and ended with the thought that if we are bad we get plagues but that if we are good we won’t. My brother and sister were here for lunch, my husband’s hair is getting long and starting to curl the way I love it, my teething baby smiled and tried to chew on my chin... what more could a girl want?

And yet my heart is restless, longing. Since I couldn’t figure out why, In figured I should ask the One who knows me better than I know myself. In just a moment or so, that quote popped into my mind, and my heart smiled a sad smile of understanding. Oh, yes! I sometimes forget... this isn’t my country! I’m a stranger here, at war with the accepted ideals and modes of operating. My body bears the battle scars that Eden never would have allowed, and my citizenship is elsewhere. I am longing today for heaven, for a glimpse of the One who understands things that boggle my mind, and for the rest from toiling that is a constant of life here on earth.

I don’t feel so sad now that I understand the source of the sorrow. It isn’t one that is without remedy, but it does require waiting, trusting, and investing in my true home. It is funny how cancer has a way of making you cling tighter to life and this world here... and yet in the same breath it makes you hold a bit more loosely and long a lot more for the rest and relief of heaven. And maybe the understanding that will come to questions we have here. Somehow, though, I don’t think the questions will be all that important in the light of eternity. As they say in the true Narnia... we’ll be too busy going “further up and further in!”

8 Years with my best friend

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 00:16:48 -0800

It’s late and I need to get to bed, but it’s been way too long since I’ve updated this site! I am excitedly nearing the end of this final chemo round, and gratefully feeling my strength increase. We had some hard days... the neulasta pain was finally managed by some strong pain medicine, and began to fade the next day. How grateful I am that didn’t happen every time!

We’ve been so busy here. Nathan managing the tobacco awareness table at the community heath fair here in Nome, and I was given an opportunity to speak at the annual Walk for the Cure event also here in Nome.

I had four strong days in a row... lots of energy and so much to do found me overdoing it a bit... and I crashed pretty hard last night. Dear Danielle kept the kids away from my room, and Nathaniel stole away my ipod alarm, and I slept some long deep hours as a result. I’m feeling stronger, and determined to go a little slower over the next few days. :)

We have set my surgery date, it is December 4th. Nathan is headed down for his Dad’s wedding just before that. To our sadness, the children and I will not be attending. We so wish we could be there, but my strength is just not sufficient for that trip before surgery.

My Mom will be with us during surgery, and a dear friend from Ohio, Ruthann Glaser, is coming to be a helping hand for Danielle with the children. Mom will then stay in Nome for December, and my Dad is also hoping to come so we can all have Christmas together there. Sometime in early January we’ll make the pilgrimage back to Ohio for my radiation.

So that’s a brief update. The highlight of my week was definitely the hours Nathan and I had away at the cabin together. What a gift to spend eight years of our life together! These last months have been a test of those vows we said so long ago. I tell you the truth, Nathaniel said it, meant it, and has been faithfully by my side through all of this. Thank you, Lord for such a husband and friend!

limping Along... towards the chemo finish line

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 23:23:49 -0800

Well, I’m getting a little desperate here... so I thought I’d give a shout out for some extra prayer support. It’s been a slow bounce back with this round of chemo. Umm, actually the bounce back hasn’t really started yet. My energy is low to non-existent, and I’ve been in pretty severe pain this afternoon and evening, I think as a result of my neulasta shot. As it encourages white blood cell production in my body, it’s making my bones ache.

Dani is a saint, working her heart out around here. She even rigged this hot pack out of a hat from the girl’s dress up box and bunch of rice - it brought a bit of relief, and I was so grateful. I don’t know what I would do without her!

So, I just thought I’d ask you all that are praying for us to keep it up, pray that I would get some relief from the bone aches, that my energy would increase, and for Dani and Nate as they are doing so much to care for the children and me.

Thanks to all of you who are praying and encouraging us... I’m reminded of the footprints in the sand poem, how in the hard places the Lord carried them. I know He is doing that for us, but I also know that the last steps to the top of the mountain can be the hardest!

The Hairplane out the window

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 01:40:47 -0800

“Mommy, I’m scared of the hairplane out the window.” This wasn’t the first time Kate had told me about her “hairplane” scare... but it was the first time she mentioned that it was out the window.
And there, at 5:30 AM, the light began to dawn.

Kate has a winsome way of adding and “h” to the beginning of words that start with vowels. For example, we go to the hairport to see hairplanes. We bake cookies in the hoven, and she plays with a purple hoctopus in the bath tub.

Multiple times she has stumbled to my bed in the wee hours to tell me she was afraid of the hairplane. Usually she’s shaky and tearful, and I’m confused. I thought she liked hairplanes.

But two mornings ago, it finally dawned on me (long before the actual dawn) that it must be a plane that takes off or lands around 5:30 in the morning. It is always about that time when she has awakened me.

I told her not to worry, the plane was flying far away, and it wouldn’t come in the window. Gratefully, that has seemed to settle the issue... either that or the pilot just hasn’t flown his early morning run the last two days!

That picture was what came to my mind when I laid in bed a little while ago and tried to sleep. I was contemplating the word “Abba.” Daddy, the intimate name we’re allowed to call Almighty God when we are his children. I was laying in bed trying not to sniff and wake Nathaniel as tears were running down my cheeks. Suddenly, I thought of how to express it. “Abba, I’m scared of the hairplane.”

It was comforting to think that the same compassion that I feel as a parent when my little girl is scared beside my bed was now available to me. (Minus the foggy brain and sleepy mumbling Kate gets from me!) Unfortunately, my scary airplane did come through the window, and we’ve been dealing with the havoc it wreaked for the last several months.

Someone asked me today if I’m nervous about this last round of chemo. I glibly answered that I didn’t think so, I feel pretty good. You can put up with anything when you know it’s the last time. So I’ve been packing, cleaning, getting ready to leave on the morning flight, and all the while this heavy feeling of dread has been growing. Finally around 11 PM, while throwing in a load of laundry, I realized the source... I must be nervous about this next round!

Around 1 AM, as I was getting ready to get in bed, I admitted to myself that I wasn’t feeling nervous, I was SCARED! Not just of the chemo ahead, but of the fact that I don’t know what comes after that. Several people have asked, “What’s next?” and I don’t have an answer. Do I keep going for checkups? Does the cancer start to grow again? How soon till surgery? I just don’t know yet. I guess we’ll start finding out tomorrow.

Well I tried to sleep and instead I cried, and wished I could make it all go away. Thinking of Kate brought a smile through my tears. It’s easy for me to not worry about a flight overhead... I’m big, and have that special knowledge that the flight plan doesn’t include collision with our house! I’m grateful to tonight to remember that my Heavenly Father never sleeps, and that He knows what to do about my scary hairplane.

So, like Kate, I guess I’ll go back to bed, and let my Father tuck my spirit in securely, and drift off to sleep satisfied that He knows I’m scared, and I’ve been promised that it’s all under control.

Hurray, Uncle Nate is Here!

Fri, 9 Oct 2009 09:46:14 -0800

We were blessed this week with the arrival of Uncle Nate Sobie! My brother lived here for almost a year right after Nathaniel and I were married. He has completed his flight training on the way to being a missionary pilot, and is now hoping to get a flight job in Alaska. At least for this month, however, he’s come to Nome to see his sick sis and get to know some nieces and nephews better. He’s also got a job here and a is staying with a guy from church, so it will be a busy time. His goal is to get a flight job in Anchorage, Fairbanks, or even Nome or a village. Flying in Alaska is GREAT training... we have so many challenging situations, and he’s needing to rack up hours. We’re praying that the Lord will direct his steps, and SO glad to have him here for a little while.

This weekend they’re calling for a big storm... I can hardly wait! In the fall we often have crazy storms, and being only 1/2 a block off of the Bering Sea, the view is amazing! The salt spray can hit the house! It will be fun to share the wildness with Danielle and Nate. Speaking of them, you can keep up with them at www.natesobie.com and www.theinvisiblereality.blogspot.com - Dani posts a lot of stuff about life here. She just recently posted the most amazing poem she wrote. Wow! While I’m listing them, my big brother Scott has a web site as well for his family as they minister in Ukraine. It is www.thesobies.com

We head out Tuesday, probably in the morning this time, for the final round of chemo. Hurray! I’ll try to let you know how it goes.

Not being Anxious

Fri, 9 Oct 2009 00:00:00 -0800

Philippians 4:6-7 (New King James Version)
6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; 7 and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

This was the verse that Jesus gave me a week ago Sunday. I’ve been wanting to blog about it since then, but it seems hard to find the time just now. With homeschooling added to life with five small children, the days just keep getting busier!

First, I need to thank everyone for your prayers for me this round of chemo. I have been weaker, but not tormented by the mouth sores and neuropothy of the last round. Several other side effects that I’ve gotten every time (like severe diarrhea) have just not happened at all! I am so grateful! Thank you for caring about me and asking the Lord to help me through this round! Only one more to go. Hurray!

After the last round, I have found myself fairly tormented by the realization that the relative safety of chemo is fast receding, and the great unknown of surgery lies ahead. I was so troubled and distressed, not certain of how to proceed, but certain that proceed I must! I finally decided to take some time Sunday afternoon to really pray and seek direction.

Everyone was napping, and I curled up with my Bible and a study I am working on. It was quite an armchair journey, it seemed everything I read was with a purpose! The verse I opened with was the cumulation, and the answer from the Source of peace that I was seeking.

As I read, It felt like God and I were having a mental conversation, BE ANXIOUS FOR NOTHING. “Carlee, you are so anxious.” “I know I am! I hate it, but I feel so uncertain and distressed! I can’t manufacture peace! What am I supposed to do?” I read on, WITH THANKSGIVING, PRESENT YOUR REQUEST TO GOD. “That’s your answer! Bring all this distress you feel, all of the questions you need answered, and unload it on me... I’m big enough for it, and I’m also the only One who knows the path you need to be taking.” “I know all that, but that seems a bit surreal, and I need real-world answers here.”

AND THE PEACE THAT SURPASSES ALL UNDERSTANDING... “I already knew this would challenge you! This is the part where you stop controlling and start trusting. That ‘surpasses all understanding’ part means that to you it doesn’t make sense - it isn’t any less true, though!” “But what will happen if I truly just presented my case to You and leave it at that? What about all of the tormented wonderings that are flitting constantly through my mind?”

PEACE... WILL GUARD YOUR HEART AND MIND. “Then I stand as Gatekeeper, and this torment you’ve been tolerating will have to check in with Me before gaining entrance.” “How did you know the problem I would be facing and already write the solution ahead of time? God, you’re amazing!”

So, I decided to risk it. Why does it feel so risky to lay down my silly worrying... like I was accomplishing anything anyway! I cried and sniffled and told the Lord all of the things He already knew. It was a relief to express it just the same!

And somehow clarity began to emerge from the fog, and a bit of hope that I would actually be able to be at peace with the final decisions that need to be made. I felt like the mastectomy date I had set was NOT the right timing, and I started getting some ideas for better timing. I also felt some direction regarding the pursuit of some second opinions and confirmation that the counsel we’ve been given is the right direction for us.

And then the peace came. I don’t know why the formula works, maybe because I knew my concerns had been presented to the only One who actually knows the what the outcome of this all should be. I’m just happy to report that the promised peace has been my companion over these last ten days. It hasn’t been once and done! I have needed to keep presenting my requests, and the “with thanksgiving” part has been a challenge at times. I’m learning, though!

We are talking and researching and pursuing solutions.... trying to be certain that the medical decisions we make are wise and right for us. The ultimate decision maker will be peace - when I can stand without doubts and second guessing, I’ll know that we’re ready to proceed.

I think we’re making progress, though definitely not at that destination. I guess that’s the new prayer request, pray that I’ll know what questions to ask and be directed where to find the answers.

Sorry for being so wordy! Being succinct is not a strong point, especially with this foggy chemo-brain! I’ll let you know what’s next.... when I know!

Round 5

Mon, 21 Sep 2009 14:09:44 -0800

Thanks to everyone who has been praying for me as I tackled round 5 of chemo. Only one more to go after these three weeks are up. I did much better in Anchorage, and we a lot less sick on the plane coming home. Thanks so much, I know you’re prayers mattered! Sorry if this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, my brain is pretty foggy tonight!

Today’s been a bit of a rough day, I think it’s a bit hard on Dani and Nate when they can see the affects of the chemo in me. We all feel a little bit discouraged a few days after chemo! So many weird symptoms that are definitely getting stronger and more frustrating. I’m glad to be almost done.

We’re still laughing, though, and enjoying this time we get to share together. I don’t know what I would do without this support team of Nate and Dani. They’re amazing. Dani did laundry like a crazy lady today, playing with children, and keeping this house afloat. She’s such a blessing.

I’ll probably stay back from church in the morning, just don’t have enough strength right now to do the steps very well, let alone a morning in the pew with small children. Any Mommy could tell you that’s like an olympic event! When everyone sits like little saints, it’s better than winning the gold!

A random funny moment you all might appreciate... one of my side effects is that everything tastes metallic and yucky, even water. Last night, I told Nathan how even the toothpaste tasted weird. I could hardly taste mint, and it even seemed to lather weird. A few minutes later I finished emptying my toiletries bag from the trip to find that my body wash had leaked all over.... yeah, on my toothbrush too! I guess my bad taste buds spared me the misery because I couldn’t really tell much of a difference.

I’m just sort of rambling here, so I guess I’d better get to bed. I just wanted to let everyone know that we’re hanging in there, and to thank you for continuing to pray. We got a lot of information on this last trip down, and now we need a lot of wisdom for these final decisions as far as surgery and radiation. Thanks for praying for us!

Pressing ever onward

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 23:59:42 -0800

I have been telling myself for days that I will update this poor neglected blog. “This afternoon I’ll sit down and write....” Well, I’m pretty much always tired in the afternoon, and with five children, my spare moments have seemed pretty sparse, especially now that we’ve officially started home schooling!

Well, I was just about to fall into the bliss of bed when I realized that yet another day has gone by without updating this blog. So, I’m opting for a short update as better than nothing. :)

We are doing so well, and I know that the prayers of God’s people have a lot to do with that. Like all of you, our life is not without trials, just living seems to be a challenge at at times, and that’s without cancer in the equation. Cancer is helpful in a way, it has an ability to help you prioritize!

With seven weeks remaining in my chemo, I am so grateful for the strength that I have. Some days I feel almost normal, just a bit more tired. Other days, like today, I am suddenly stripped of all strength, and that’s when dear Dani rises to to challenge! I slept most of the morning without even meaning to, and after lunch and a blood draw this afternoon, I slept until dinner. What a blessing to have her here when I am suddenly so weak. Hopefully tomorrow will be a stronger day.

The children are completely well now, for which we are so grateful. Caleb has slept through the night for five straight nights, and I am rejoicing! Wesley is currently obsessed with cars, and it’s about all he wants to talk about, Cars and Daddy. :) Kate was learning to draw circles in her “school” today, while Shaina is learning to write her name and Noah is doing terrific with his reading. Nathan and I are trying to balance life and responsibilities here with the weight of what we are facing regarding my health. Such a strange balancing act! We try to grab little moments to talk about the heavy things ahead, and we’re working on singing and praising more!

As far as my health, I head back next Tuesday for my next round of chemo. We will be meeting with several doctors about the plans for my upcoming mastectomy and radiation as well as having a mugga heart scan to see how my heart is holding up against the herceptin.

It may seem a bit confusing, that the cancer has reduced so much and is responding so well, but I still have to have mastectomy and radiation. First of all, let me ask for your prayers for our wisdom. We haven’t finalized any plans, and we are asking God for His perfect peace and clear direction.

Our doctor’s advice thus far has been a unanimous voice saying that the only way to be as certain as possible that the cancer is gone is to follow through with surgery and radiation. I would say that all along we’ve been open to a miracle, sometimes pleading for it! Thus far, it doesn’t seem that an easy way out is in the agenda for us. And in the same sort of terror that you feel when climbing the big hill on a roller-coaster, I am peering past chemo into surgery with the hope and confidence that this thing IS connected to a track somewhere! My destination has been pre-charted, and I can just hang on for the ride! It’s been pretty overwhelming to me at times in the last few weeks, I guess we wouldn’t learn and grow if it was all easy!

So, that’s where we are at. My week after chemo has become increasingly exhausting, even emotional, but usually about 5-6 days afterwards I start to feel my strength returning. I’m dreading that process again, but encouraged by the good results with my tumor shrinking.

I’ll try to write more later, I’m learning so much, and I long to share it with you! Until then, I hope you enjoy this bit of an update on life. Thanks for praying for us!

Strength for the journey

Sat, 5 Sep 2009 15:55:14 -0800

Well, after our super good news of the reduction of my tumors, we sort of skidded back to reality that this whole cancer thing isn’t over yet! This round of chemo is certainly taking it’s toll, I’m exhausted! We came home to find Miss Kate sick with a fever, and it has since hit the other three, and we now have four very sick little hobbits! I just thought I’d jump on and ask you all to be in prayer for us, that the children recover quickly and that the big people of the house not get sick. What a blessing it is to have Dani here... I don’t know what we’d do without her!

Hurray! Hallelujah! Happy day!

Wed, 2 Sep 2009 09:56:55 -0800

I just had to jump on and give a cyber-shout for joy! Nathan and I arrived last night with Caleb for round four of my chemo. I am officially past the half way point, three rounds under my belt or bra... as the case may be! (I wasn’t sure if I should say that, but the thought cracked me up, and Nathan said I could -lol:-) The morning started at 8:15 with an ultrasound, we’re off to the oncologists at 11 AM, and then my chemo commences at 1:00 PM , it should take about five hours.

Okay, back to rejoicing! The first tech trying to find my tumor was uncertain, and so we waited while they found the original tech who had mapped it in the beginning, and helped with putting the metal markers in. (Her name is Carla, she is so sweet and encouraging!) Anyway, Carla came, and she did find the tumor... sort of. At least what’s left of it!

It has shrunk significantly, to the point that it’s uncertain how much is tumor and how much is just marred tissue! The other smaller tumors out to the sides couldn’t be found at all! Dr. Farley, the radiologist came back to confirm the findings and see Caleb. She was also so excited, and told us that these are as good of results as they could ever hope to see.

And after months of a lot of bad news, I suddenly remember the verse that says “how beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news.” I would have gladly kissed Carla’s feet right about then!

GOOD NEWS! I almost forgot what that was! My heart is full of praise and gratitude to the Lord! HE is the one who give wisdom to doctors, and I believe with all of my heart that HE is the one who directed us to choose the chemo that would use herceptin first.

Thank you a thousand times to you dear friends, so many of you I’ve never even met.... thank you for praying for us! Thank you for praying that my cancer would be conquered! I still have cancer, but progress is being made. I could hardly wait to run back to our room and rejoice with you.... good news at last!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just one last note. We saw and amazing video this week, it is called “living proof” and stars Harry Connick Jr. Nathan was looking for a video at our little store, that probably holds less than a thousand videos... and was intrigued by the cover. When he turned it over, he was shocked to see that it was the story of the doctor that created herceptin. We watched it that evening, and pretty much cried through the whole thing. It was sort of like seeing our life on screen, with the exception of acknowledging God as our ultimate hope. It is unrated, appropriate, and if you’re interested, it’s a fascinating look at this drug that has only been around for 11 years, and has been used to save so many lives, including my own. Have the kleenex nearby!

Right-sizing God

Sun, 23 Aug 2009 00:16:30 -0800

The two pictures above have a lot of significance for me. The first contains two very precious gifts. The bottle rests on a quilt that was given to me by my Mom the day before she left for Ohio. To my amazement, she had been working on it the entire time we were in Anchorage. It is spectacular, and full of deep significance, sort of a documenting of this journey. I never knew she was even at work on it... slipping in to the quilt shop where they were lending her their machine when she was out shopping, after dropping me off at appointments, etc.

The bottle itself is from my sister Danielle. She gave it to me as a tear bottle, a visual reminder that my tears, maybe even the ones just cried in the spirit, matter to God. He said they do, that He is taking account of each one.

The second picture was taken when Nathan and were first in Anchorage for this last round of chemo... From my perspective, it was a disaster, ending in surgery, exhaustion, and a tough climb back to strength. But the first evening we met with a great friend, Matt Johnson. After getting slightly turned around, we found an amazing trail that took us up towards Byron Glacier. The scenery was HUGE, beyond the scope of what your eyes could really accept.

While Nathan and Matt were checking out an ice cave, I sat on a pile of rocks for a few minutes to rest. Caleb was in the front pack on my chest, sleeping soundly. The sound of the stream rushing by covered the sound of my voice... giving me courage to start singing. The words of this song came to me, and as the mountains towered overhead, I found myself worshiping in for the first time in a long time.

Immortal, invisible,  God only wise,  In light inaccessible  hid from our eyes,  Most blessed, most glorious,  the Ancient of Days,  Almighty, victorious,  Thy great Name we praise.

Unresting, unhasting,  and silent as light,  Nor wanting, nor wasting,  Thou rulest in might;  Thy justice, like mountains,  high soaring above  Thy clouds, which are fountains  of goodness and love.

To all, life Thou givest,  to both great and small;  In all life Thou livest,  the true life of all;  We blossom and flourish  as leaves on the tree,  And wither and perish--  but naught changeth Thee.

Great Father of glory,  pure Father of light,  Thine angels adore Thee,  all veiling their sight;  All laud we would render;  O help us to see  'Tis only the splendor  of light hideth Thee,

And suddenly, God began to be right-sized in my eyes. Not that I had been purposely making Him small... I think I had just let so many of my cancer situations fill my vision that they were looming like giants. They shrunk to their rightful pea-size, and my heart was caught away in the awareness of a God who was both unresting and unhasting. What a thought! Tireless and Purposeful, that is the God who is willing to carry me through this valley.

That place at the foot of the glacier has become a place that I can close my eyes and suddenly be. I’ve gone there in the morning, when I’m tired and don’t really feel like facing the day. I went there, weary and wasted, when Harvey and Nancy prayed over me last Sunday night.

How is it that we forget to worship, or pray, or meditate, or any other countless number of spiritual disciplines? Perhaps less than forgetting, it’s just that there are seasons for some of these things. I think I’ve been in the season of desperate clinging, if there is such a thing! But even as seasons begin to change here in Nome, maybe my season is changing as well... to a place of less pleading, more praising. Can our spiritual season change when our circumstantial one hasn’t? I’m thinking it must!

A friend here in Nome sent us an encouraging email this morning, and he made a statement that struck me so deeply. He said in his prayer, “ You are our well from which we can draw continuously and when we go back to You, You are always gracious and giving.”

I have found this true! These last 2 and 1/2 months of cancer journey I have found in God a well deep enough to draw from and not compromise it’s flow. And He’s never condemned me for coming, limping and wounded, so thirsty for the grace and hope I had previously found.

It’s not that I am loving having cancer! I’ve found that in my mind I have this funny fondness for things that happened before I knew about the cancer, like they are hued with with a rosiness that I haven’t caught sight of in a long while.

But there are new hues to life now, not very pretty ones, but so capturing. I think they are the browns and grays of bedrock. Stripping away the soil and finding that this Rock we have built our life on is sufficient for the storm.

I’m not sure what all of this rambling means... I guess that I’m still weeping, still comforted by the realization that my tears matter to Him. I think it also means that like the woman of so long ago, I don’t want to live my life just filling up bottles in the tear bank of heaven! I want to somehow lavish them back on Jesus, worshipfully washing His feet with the product of these days, trusting tears. Not that anything I can do would augment God, but many things I can do can help to keep His grandness in perspective.

We’re still here!

Fri, 21 Aug 2009 03:05:15 -0800

Thanks to everyone who has been praying for us, and still checking back to look for an update. My surgery went well according to my doctor, and we are grateful for that. It has hit me pretty hard, though... I think the combination of my chemo two days before, and the drugs from surgery have made a comeback feel like scaling Denali. We’ve had some pretty low days, low energy, low hope a few times.

Monday evening, when I was still so weak, I kept thinking how tired everyone must be of praying for me, being burdened by our situation. Just about then, emails and calls started trickling in, a little river of encouragement and love. It seems that you all are more enduring than me - still praying, believing, and loving us from afar.

How blessed I am with friends who will not become weary with our trials. May I be such a faithful friend to you someday! My strength is growing very slowly, and I’m still weaker than I’ve been.... But I am indeed getting my strength back, and hopeful again.

I’ll write more later, just wanted to let you all know we’re okay!

Here we go again!

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 01:19:16 -0800

Well, in just a few hours I head in for surgery prep for the installation of a medi-port. This is a port that is hidden under my skin, it will be accessed each chemo session and blood draw through a needle. I guess it’s a bit painful for a while, because some of the tissue of my chest has to be carved out to create a bed of sorts for it to lay in.

We would be so grateful for your prayers! For Mom, who has an extended time with the children while we are gone, for Caleb who is coming down with a stuffy nose and having a hard time sleeping tonight, and for Nathan and I as we remember that faith is the substance of things we can not see.

I don’t want to be like Thomas, needing proof of Jesus and His reality. I want to trust even when things aren’t exactly going my away. I believe that the Lord knows my catheter got pulled out... He said He counts our tears, and I certainly shed a few! And if He knows, I can cast this care on Him, because the Bible says that He cares for me. Thanks for praying, we’ll let you know how it goes!

A Pictorial walk through our first week home

Mon, 10 Aug 2009 01:06:31 -0800

Home is where the heart is, and for us that’s Nome, Alaska!

Mon, 3 Aug 2009 00:58:42 -0800

Hallelujah, we’re home! With grateful hearts, our family has returned to Nome more than six weeks after we first left for Anchorage. So much has happened! I feel so humbled by the realization that our friends and family have truly carried through this valley. Often I have felt too weary to “face” it all, too weary to pray with passion over situations we were facing, and then someone would call or write and share that they had been praying for us, facing our situation head on and bringing it to the Lord in our behalf. Thank you for not being weary with our load, but for carrying us along!

It seemed this last week in Anchorage that we would never get home. Every day brought some new medical complication... quirks from the chemo that have to be worked through. The last problem came just before we were supposed to be leaving for the airport on Friday. It seems that my arm is swelling on the side where I had two lymph nodes removed.

An ultrasound showed that there are no blood clots, which is good. The swelling however is not good, it’s a sign of lymphedema, something that I have dreaded from the start of all of this. I’ve been talking to all my doctors to see if there is any way to save my remaining lymph nodes, rather than having them all removed as is planned. My concern is lymphedema, a irreversible swelling that results when those lymph nodes aren’t there to keep fluids moving. It seems like my body is facing this with only two lymph nodes gone.

My doc was out of town, and her fill-in was not in the office for the day, so I haven’t been able to see a doctor about it yet. I do now have a compression glove and sleeve that I wear to help keep the fluids moving, and I am doing lots of praying. Praying that the Lord will help the remaining lymph nodes to work, and that this beginning of swelling will also be the end of swelling.

I have often thought of the how Job said that what he feared had come upon him... someone once challenged me to not live with fear, but to turn my fears into godly desires. So, that’s what I’m doing. I don’t know if it’s exactly a godly desire to not want to live the rest of my life with lymphedema, or if it’s just wimpiness! Nevertheless, I am pleading with the Lord to intervene in this situation... but I’m realizing that deeper than all of that is my desire that He be glorified through my life. I trust Him. I don’t know how this all fits into his good plan, but I also know that Eternal Eyes have a much better perspective on it than mine.

It was so joyous to be in church today. I love my church! The dear friends there have been so kind to us long before my cancer diagnosis, and this has only proven what true gold they are. I love my church most of all because when I walk in there, I sense the Spirit of God, moving and living in that congregation. May we all live that fully on the days in between Sunday!

I’m off to bed again.. that middle of the night feeding comes too soon! I think it’s time for Caleb to start sleeping through the night. :) By the way, Caleb is the best little baby ever, and he is starting to smile! His cheeks are intensely kissable, and you can’t stop once you start! He also has the cutest little fat thighs in the world! What a blessed Mommy I am!

Dreaming of Home

Wed, 29 Jul 2009 23:49:22 -0800

Hello, everyone! We’re still in Anchorage, and I wanted to jump on for a quick note to update everyone. Over the weekend and in to this week I’ve had some low days, lots of weariness and napping on the couch. Oh what a blessing to have the supporters here that I do! I couldn’t do this without Nathan, Mom, and Danielle!

One piece of glorious news is that when I went for my blood draw yesterday, MY CATHETER WORKED! It drew blood! It’s a miracle to me! I can’t tell you how elated I was. I CAN tell you that I’ve never been so delighted to see blood flowing out of my body! :)

After a weary weekend, I ended up with a migraine yesterday and some painful side effects to the chemo that had me in to the docs today and on some extra medications to hold it at bay. It’s a bit frustrating, I feel like I’ve accomplished just about nothing over the last five days.

These things have also kept us here in Anchorage, and we still haven’t booked tickets home. If the Lord allows, we may possibly try to get tickets for Saturday, but we’re going to see how everyone is in the morning.

We’ve got a LOT of loose ends to tie up here to be able to leave, and we would be grateful for your prayers that I stay well and that the details come together. My heart is longing for home, and yet a little scared at the process of getting there.

Please pray for Nathan, Dani, and Mom too. They’re carrying so much of my load, and I’m just praying that they will be blessed and refreshed.

I’ve got to run... sleep calls! Just wanted you dear folks who are checking in to know how we are. May you all be blessed, and may we all remember that those deepest longings are just a reminder we weren’t made for here... heaven is our true home.

Mixing life and cancer

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 00:28:50 -0800

It’s a weird sort of “normal” we’re entering in to here! It seems that at least a piece of each day is spent with me at doctor’s appointments, Mom and Dani are doing so much to hold down the fort at Miss Sue’s house... and Nathan is my hand to hold during shots, and anything thing that might hurt the heart more than the body.

We enjoyed the chance to get out and about a bit as my white cells reached the safe zone again (Hurray!). We made a trip to the Portage Glacier visitor center, it was a foggy, blustery day, but the clouds parted at times to give us some lovely vistas.

We’ve had fun enjoying the 50 cent ice cream cones at McDonald’s... they’ve become a signature of our time here, it seems! They are running the special because it’s the summer of our 50th year of statehood. Little bits of normalcy are a relief! And there isn’t much in the way of yummy soft serve in Nome!

My groshong catheter is still causing problems, but gratefully it is still flushing the chemo through well. Thank you so much for praying... I woke up this morning to find blood in the line. They had told me this could happen, but it took me by surprise because it did not draw blood at the doctor’s yesterday. Somehow something opened up to allow that, and it made me feel hopeful! I have saline to flush the line with if that ever happens, so all is fine. I’m not sure what caused it, maybe God was just letting me know He wasn’t done with the process!

I had no reactions to the chemo this time around, and that is a super answer to prayer! It brings us a step closer to returning to Nome. There is an awkward element to mixing sometimes painful procedures, long hours at the hospital, and then returning to life here at Miss Sue’s house and the little ones. But we’re making it through, and it is so good to be here all together. (

My hair has begun to fall out with a vengeance, and it’s honestly driving me nuts! I’m tempted to just do a total shave, but I’m following advice to wait until it’s really bad, just incase it doesn’t all fall out. So I’m waiting awhile longer, and wearing lots of head scarves to try to reduce the hair that is showing up everywhere!

Today, we met with a photographer who captured the first professional pictures we’ve ever had done as a family. There was a bittersweet element to it. We loved the pics, and the children were terrific. There was also a “what if” effect that kept making me want to cry... what if this is our only family picture ever? I am grateful for the peace of God that passes all understanding, that when dark thoughts tried to slip in, that peace stood guard over my heart. I do have hope that He is hearing our prayers, and we will take family pictures again someday.

I had a shot today to help my blood counts boost... it’s called neulasta. We’re praying that I don’t get hit too hard with the side effect of intense bone pain as the body responds to it’s call to produce cells. Some people do okay with just some achiness, other’s end up in ER due to the pain. We’re all praying that it doesn’t hit too hard, and are kind of waiting here now to see how I do. We still haven’t made tickets back to Nome, mainly because we need to make sure I’m doing okay with all of this first.

I’m finding my heart very comforted by the thought of SAFETY. Images of the holocaust, Rwanda, and the persecuted church around the world have been in my mind, and it fills me with gratitude for my life. We are so safe! I don’t fear for my children’s lives, I’m surrounded by loved ones, we have comfort and provision for the things we need. Yes, there is a medical difficulty we are facing, but I am humbled by the realization of where others have walked nobly with much greater distress to their souls. Safety is truly a gift of God, and I am finding myself daily grateful for it.

Our favorite bed time song with the children is an old one Nathan taught me before Noah was even born. It was the first song I sang to Caleb in NICU, and is usually the song that closes out our day as we tuck the little ones in bed,

Safe am I, Safe am I
in the hollow of His hand.
Sheltered o’er, sheltered o’er
in His love forever more.
No ill can harm me, no foe alarm me,
for He keeps both day and night.
Safe am I, Safe am I
in the hollow of His hand.

Truly my God does keep us, even in the night. With Caleb’s late night feeding, I often find heavy thoughts and tears lingering close in those wee hours. There are times I have literally called His Name aloud in the night, “Jesus, these thoughts are too dark and I am too weak, please hold me!” And He mercifully does, and sleep returns and I awaken in the morning with joy. The Lord IS near to all those who call on Him... perhaps not with an escape plan, but with the grace to walk the next bit of the path.

My very frustrating groshong catheter

Tue, 21 Jul 2009 00:01:47 -0800

I hope you don’t mind the diagram, but I thought it might help with the understanding of the catheter and the problem I’m having with it. My body is covering the part that lies near my heart with a protective coating or sheath. As a result, it won’t draw blood, and there is the possibility of further risks and trouble. Tomorrow I head back for a blood draw, and I am praying that somehow that sheath would dissolve and this very necessary catheter would start working. I would be so grateful if you would pray with us! It’s going to take a miracle!

There isn’t a lot of new news here... I am pretty much lying low because my white blood cells are also low. We’re starting to talk through the logistics of returning to Nome. To all of you in Nome, I can hardly wait to get back to that dear dusty town and all of you who make it so precious! Thank you for your words of encouragement to Nathan while he was back over the last week and a half... You are the most amazing community ever!

My hair is starting to fall out in massive handfuls. It’s sort of sad to see it go, and now comes the wondering of when to actually take the plunge and shave it. Some people have cautioned me not to shave it too soon because sometimes it just thins considerably and doesn’t all fall out. So I’m waiting, but it’s really annoying. We were trying to find hairnets for me to wear to bed, but to no avail. Mom finally found a creative alternative. It’s a wave cap... sort of like a thick nylon that according to the package, my African-American brothers use to help make their fro more wavy. Cool! Nathan has always told me he thought I was beautiful, and I love him for it. But in this cap... stunning is the only word that comes to mind! :)

Wesley learned how to say please yesterday, Kate is regressing on her potty training, Noah is living and breathing baseball since Poppi taught him to play catch, and Shaina loves rubbing Caleb’s back during his little tummy time. So that’s the latest from Hobbitsville... thanks to all of you who are praying for us!

Nathan just walked past and I asked if there is anything he wanted to say to the friends reading our blog. He tossed a little card onto my lap, it’s wrinkled a bit from being carried in his pocket, but the truth printed on it is flawless. “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” -2 Cor. 9:8 This is what he is praying, for us and for you, the dear ones who are holding us up when at times we feel too weak or weary to do it ourselves. Our hearts are strengthened, may yours be as well, in the trials you are facing.