Back in January, I would have never thought this day would come. Sure, I still planned and prepared, however, part of me thought that I would never be here, walking down the aisle to the most amazing man. Little girls often dream about their wedding day. They dream of the dress, the flowers, the colors of the bridesmaids' dresses, and their Prince Charming awaiting them. Most anticipate perfection and bliss. All anticipate the happily ever-after.
Most do not think about cancer.
When I was first diagnosed, I wanted to get married right then and there before all of the treatment happened. Jon was ready too. My parents even gave their blessing. We all thought that undergoing treatment would be somewhat easier if Jon and I were married. I, selfishly, just wanted to look the way I had always dreamed on my wedding day, with hair and all. We made that decision on the night before I was to have my small surgery to insert my port through which I would receive the chemotherapy drugs. The next morning, after the surgery, I woke up to find that the surgery had not worked and they would have to keep me in the hospital to give me my first chemo. When my doctor asked about the wedding decision, I burst into tears. I told her that we had wanted to get married before all of this chemo mess began. She looked at me and said, "Well, we do have a chapel in the downstairs of the hospital." That only made me cry more. It seemed that my wedding was not going to be anything like what I had dreamed of.
My wedding dress hung in my room those six months. My friends came one weekend and asked if I would put it on and show them. I remember putting it on and being disappointed. I did not have my long hair to curl and pull to the side. Instead, I had very little hair and two scars on my neck. I was dreading having to walk down the aisle. I recall praying to God to change my heart from dwelling on the outward appearance. Cancer was doing nothing to bolster my pride about my body; however, God was using it to shape my heart.
Seven months later...here I was on my wedding day. Mom helped me to get in my dress. As I looked in the full length mirror I remarked, "Mom, this is not what I had planned, but this is better." I would walk down the aisle realizing all that I did not deserve but what God was so graciously giving me, a clean bill of health, a chance to move forward, a wonderful husband. My wedding day was not what I had planned. However, it was infinitely better because I realized that this is what God had planned from the beginning of time. Instead of rejoicing at how I had brilliantly pulled off an amazing ceremony and reception, I stood beside Jon at the front of the church, in awe of our God.

The Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.
Jeremiah 31:3

Almost there...but I don't know yet

Sorry for not posting in so long. Life has been much busier since treatment ended. Yes, treatment has ended! Radiation is done. I am still waiting for my final scan and doctor's appointment on July 14th. I am praying they say that the scan is clear and this period of life is over. Meanwhile, I am busy tutoring, preparing for the wedding, and watching my hair grow back. (I am thrilled about the hair on my head growing but not so thrilled about the leg hair coming back as well.)
With treatments coming to a close and with an end to all of this in sight, I have been reflecting on the last few months. Many times people say that trials are good. They show you how strong you really are and they make you even stronger. But they don't mention that they expose sin, those deeply entrenched sins. Those sins that even you did not realize had such a grip on you. They don't mention how trials cause you to question or become angry. Or that there will be just as many moments of fear as there are moments of faith. The truth is you come out humbled. Job did. Sometimes you come through it, ending that race in tears or in a desperate collapse. This is no glory moment for you. We are not superheros here.
I remember climbing a mountain in Ecuador called Illinizas. Going up was tough. Next to battling cancer, it is the hardest thing I have ever done. I was trying to cling to the side of this mountain when every rock was falling around me. Nothing seemed safe and I was praying so hard. All of a sudden my "big talk" about scaling this thing had ended and I was praying just to survive. Almost to the very top, I stopped and just clung to the side of the mountain. I thought that I would never make it down. But I did make it down the mountain...on my butt. Talk about not-so-graceful. I scooted down the dusty side of the mountain on my rear end. When I finally got down to where I could walk, I had a huge red dust mark on the back of my jeans.
Sometimes I feel like this is how my journey through cancer has been. I would not change the experience because the Lord has taught me so much about clinging and depending. However, I have been humbled. It has not always been pretty. But God is faithful. There are still marks on my body, like the red mark on my pants, that will remind me of the journey and the struggle. They will always remind me of how small I am and how infinitely loving God is to have guided me through.

Radiation, running, and...ice cream

Radiation... I am now going into my third week of radiation. Only five more treatments to go. I have already been through 10 and I must admit that this experience has been much more pleasant that chemo. After a few doctor's appointments to set me up with a mold of my upper body (I got to feel like Han Solo when they were making this thing) and to line me up underneath the laser, I was ready to go. My routine is that I go in, scan my card, go to the dressing room, get dressed in a gown, the nurses come and get me, put me in my mold (I really do not know how a claustrophobic person would be able to handle that one), and zap me! I am in and out within 10 minutes usually. That is way better than six hours of chemotherapy.
Radiation does make you think though. It was such a surreal experience the first time I went in. You do not feel a things, however, all I could think was, "How in the world did I get here?" I would have never guessed that I would be doing this at the age of twenty-two during my last summer at home. Yet, here I am laying underneath a laser. Thank you, God, for medical technology and please let this take it all away.
Running... I am back to running and working out now. It is a slow process of getting back into shape but I am thoroughly enjoying it. Running makes me feel like I am doing something, that I am fighting something. It is hard to feel like you are fighting a disease when you are horizontal on the couch all of the time. Running is active. It is a struggle. And it makes you feel like you are battling. Exercise is also one of the only things that seems to ward off some of the fatigue that comes with radiation.
Ice cream... Radiation is a cake walk until it comes to the radiation sore throat. Because of where I am receiving radiation (on my neck) it makes my throat feel very sore. The only way I know how to describe it is like swallowing two ping pong balls but they are stuck in the upper part of your throat. It hurts really bad to swallow, so I have been doing soft foods like Jello, pudding, protein shakes, and lots and lots of ice cream. Thankfully, Janie, my sister, works at an ice cream parlor and brings me home ice cream all the time. The throat thing really stinks, but I may never have the opportunity to eat ice cream like this again. Just take joy in the small things!

Reflections of a graduate

This past weekend I graduated from college. As I went to graduation practice, met up with friends, and finally walked in commencement, I mulled over what the last four years have been like. Here are some of the lessons I have learned.

* Sometimes, you know where you are going but you do not know exactly why you are going there and that is okay. I could not put my finger on why I was going to High Point University; all I knew is that God was saying "go" and I could not resist.
* Living with someone who is unlike you can be difficult, but you will grow a lot.
* Having good girl friends is essential. Girls, thanks for so many laughs and great conversations.
* We must never think that at any particular moment "we finally got it" or "we arrived at perfection." You will always look back on your freshmen year with fondness but also with the thought that "Man, I was an idiot back then."
* Change happens! and in reference to the above lesson...this is a good thing.
* Creativity in life is a must. In classes, in projects, in entertaining yourself on the weekends, and in reforming dining hall food to look more appealing.
* Spontaneity can be a wonderful thing.
* Late night milk shake runs are a must. Loud music on the car ride there is preferable.
* Studying with someone else leads to great conversations on class material and on life.
* Taking classes with the "crazy" professors is always best. They have more zeal for the subject matter and you will learn in this environment.
* People will enter and exit. Treasure the moments.
* God changes hearts, not you. He calls you to be faithful and He does the work.
* There are moments when you will feel panicked. Whether those moments happen during a late night study session or in having to do something you have never done before. Trust. Not yourself or your abilities. But the Lord.
* Alone time is good.
* Take a fun class every once in a while, something not in your major. At what other time in your life are you going to be able to take a film class.
* Do not sign up for a class just because it sounds challenging. If you do not like Economics or Greek and Roman history, do not sign up for Honors History: the study of the economics of Greek and Roman societies. Poor life choice!
* Encourage one another.
* Grades are not everything.
* Sometimes, things just build up and then the breaking point may be something little and seemingly insignificant like a green bean on your pizza from the dining hall. Prayerfully deal with things as they occur. Do not think you can handle it all.
* College kids like to dress up. Dances always seem to have themes. Therefore, it is important to find a good local thrift store.
* Coffee is necessary. Make friends with the baristas.
* Exam time will always remind you that you are human and not all-knowing.
* Life does not happen just like you visualized or planned. And that is okay.
* There are moments when you realize how awesome God is. It might be on the drive home for fall break as you get to see how the leaves have changed colors. It might be as you study astronomy. It might be as you stand on the side of a volcano during study abroad. It might be while you are alone in your dorm room and you feel small compared to all that is going on around you.

These are just a few lessons. Above all, I realized what Paul said in Philippians; knowing Christ is the highest pursuit. All else changes and fades.
Congratulations graduates!

Reactions to Change

On Tuesday afternoon I went to the doctor. I thought that it would be the routine check over and hoped that the doctor would tell me what she and the other board of doctors had decided regarding my case. I was prepared to hear that they would give me 5 more doses of chemo and that would be that. However, I was not prepared to have my doctor tell me that I had only one more chemo and then radiation! It shocked me and that shock sent a wave of thoughts and emotions through my body.

Hold on! Radiation? I thought we were trying to avoid this because of data that shows that it could cause cancers later in life. Are you sure about radiation? How did we reach this decision?

My doctor said that some of the radiation technology has improved and that she felt comfortable with this route.

Woohoo! Last chemo on Friday! I'm done! Done with those drugs! Will I get my picc line out of my arm? What? On Friday? Right after chemo? YES! The worlds longest and most relaxing shower is about to happen! I can go lift weights! I can go out without feeling self-conscious about the tubes coming out my arm!

You will meet with the radiation oncologist next week.

What does radiation hold? Are we making the right decision? What if it does produce cancer later in life? What will radiation be like? Radiation or chemo? Suddenly it all seems like pick your poison.

You will be done with chemo!

Done? That's great! It's so easy to rejoice, especially with others and my family. But, in the alone moments, it's harder. What about others who are not done? What about the girl who is only one chemo behind me and has a very similar case? Will she be done? What about the other patients who seem to see no end to the cycles of chemo? I feel guilty for being so blessed. When I walk out of this cancer center, I will be viewed as the unlucky one, the one who has cancer. However, in the cancer center, I am the lucky one; I am the fortunate one. Why me? How do I go to my last chemo and look at the others who might be there off and on for a year more? Thank you, Jesus, for letting me done; but, what about the others? As you can see, Lord, I still wrestle with your sovereignty.

Alright, that will be all. Congratulations!

Thank You, Lord. Like salvation from sin, I am undeserving. Thank You for your grace. Please, continue to sustain me. I am nothing without You.

Dear fellow patient and friend

I know exactly where you are right now. You, like me, are sitting in a reclining chair hooked up to the medicine that drives your body crazy but is slowly healing. I am thinking of you. We are buddies now. There is something about facing a similar hardship that drives you together. There is a bond.
I am praying for you. I know that we were both not expecting this. We were both planning on being done with this sooner. But God is sovereign and we are both learning to lean on His grace. We are learning lots of lessons about our Lord. Many times there are questions. Sometimes there are answers. Always there is the peace that we are not alone in this. I am praying that God heals your body quickly. I am praying that this treatment goes well. I am praying that you will have joy in all things.
They are walking and running in honor of us today, in honor of all who are fighting a similar battle. I feel humbled and grateful and honored all at the same time. They have named the team after me. However, all I could think of when I woke up today was you. They are doing this for you and for me. They are doing this so that you and I will have more birthdays. More birthdays, not just to enjoy life on earth, but to tell others about our Sovereign Lord and His glorious Gospel. How profound...we have more time. Time to do what with our lives? I am convicted by the idea.
I hope you are doing well. It is chilly in my treatment room; is it chilly in yours? Are you staring out a window like I am? We will get through this, I know. God will get us through the moments that make up days and the days that make up the long months ahead. Just know, I am thinking and praying...for you.
Your friend

(this post is in honor of Don Callahan, a man from my church in High Point who is going through chemotherapy treatment as well)

Pichincha

On Saturday evening Mom, Dad, and I went to a Isle of Wight Humane Society function. We were off to see the doggies. I had seen some puppies online and knew of one that I was specifically interested in adopting. On the drive over I prayed she would be there.
And she was! There in a pen was a small Australian Shepherd mix pup. They called her Bobbie because she had a slight vision/balance problem and looked like a bobble head. I picked her up and held her and knew that she was the one I wanted.
Yes, Mom and Dad allowed me to adopt a puppy! And I am so thankful. She has helped to take my mind off of so many overwhelming things. She has given me a playmate and friend.
I named her Pichincha after a volcano in Ecuador. Mount Pichincha sits right by Quito and I used to see it every morning when I looked out the kitchen window. It was such a pretty mountain. So her name is Pichincha and we call her Chincha for short, or if you are dad, Chichi.
She is just a little bit quirky, but we like that. We love that she is quite content to take naps in between our feet as we work at the kitchen table during the day. And we think it is quite comical that she often walks right into us when we are taking her for walks.
I was thinking this morning as I did my devotions. God is the Giver of all things. He gives rain to the ground, as we have seen this past week. He gives grace when we are struggling and even when we are "doing okay." I know this may sound hokey, but I was thanking Him for Chincha. I was thanking Him for all things, even puppies. He is the Giver of all good gifts. His gifts do not satisfy, however, they point us back in thankfulness the the Giver who does.