I want to pause from our Generosity Journey and just offer a few words about a real life situation. It’s one in progress today, in the here and now, and not simply a thought or a theory. It is laboratory, not textbook. So bare with me for just a moment.
T0 date, I have not written or shared a lot of “personal” testimonies pertaining to the ongoing treatment and response to our youngest son’s current battle with cancer. Most of you already know about Eli’s diagnosis with lymphoma – made earlier this year in February after a series of tests. Since receiving that news, it is been an ongoing process of learning and living one day, one moment, one trip, and one step at a time. For a Type AA personality like me, this can be challenging and complicated. But rest assured, with such a mountain to climb with a “cancer” diagnosis hovering over your son – if you don’t break it down and take it as a journey, it can really get the best of you.
No class, no talk, no preparation, and no words can prepare you for the exact moment that something like this becomes reality. The first time you hear those words, you are pierced. Questions arise and they keep coming. Anxiety that you never knew before, coupled with the stress of such an in-depth treatment plan over 2-3 years can seemingly tax you of any resources you may have (energy, time, money, and joy). Many parents go down this path and many more, without consent or approval, will also face it. Decisions must be made as there is no luxury of time. It’s learning and living side by side, in real time.
I remember that first 48-72 hours. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Finding words has never been more difficult. The whole thing was still being digested. The next few days after Eli was transported to Chapel Hill, I remember driving to the hosptial and just having a talk with God, out loud, in the car. I pleaded for his life. I cried. I thought of what this meant for Eli. I cried more. But in the midst of it all, God was near. His presence was felt and His presence remains.
That presence (of His) has made the difference. I can’t imagine what it would be like to face such a mountain without God as an active, vibrant part of my life. His Spirit is near and no matter what – I know that. Even in days when Eli seems to be taxed and spent, physically, I know that he is in Good Hands, the best of hands. Living without that hope and assurance would, to me, be horrific.
I truly am learning and living, each day. I think our whole family is – right down the pipeline. My request, all along, has been this: “Lord, use this for good – use this for Your good – and may this somehow, someway, reach people for Your glory.” I pray into that each day, into that promise that is embedded and found in Romans 8. As the songwriter wrote: “Where would I go?” The answer is: to the Lord.
Grateful for all the sustaining prayers and support you are giving. He is with us, no doubt!