Merry Christmas 2012

Somehow I've let life get pretty crazy once again.  As Christmas was barreling toward us, one of my dear friends said, "Why don't you skip doing Christmas cards this year?"  Gasp!  Imagine my surprise as I considered the possibility.  Actually, I think it took me about 2 minutes to decide that was exactly what I needed, permission to let something go.  With the release of that responsibility I felt freedom to plan some other family activities.  Below are some of our highlights from December.










Our Annual Christmas Luncheon at church.

Journey to Bethlehem, living nativity in Auburn.   One of my favorite moments with Simeon and Anna.

On the hunt for the perfect tree.

Julia is a little closer to what we have in mind.

Dave couldn't quite do all the sawing so the kids helped!  Way to go kids!



Wouldn't be complete without my path picture.

Mr. Whiskers enjoying the new tree.

 

Some friends from church put on a family Christmas Nativity Party,
complete with carols, children in costumes acting out the nativity, and of course
cookies and hot cocoa!  Definitely a highlight.

Daniel was a wise man, Julia an angel and this is our friend Sophie who
just couldn't leave baby Jesus' side.

Here is a short video of the singing...hope you can see it.  

 

Last year we made a Christmas Ornament out of some of Dave's hospital bracelets he collected over the previous few months.  Having the cancer removed at the beginning of December, and then just making it home a few days before Christmas, we made the ornament as a statement of faith that this Christmas Dave would be cancer free.  Praise God, He has answered our request.

 

It has been a very long road and we are not clear of the effects of the chemo, that is still a daily battle.  We will choose to trust Him for this coming year and His tender care over us as we continue down this road, following His lead...praise God His name is Emmanuel, God with us.

 

May you know and trust also, this One that is called,
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. 

 

Merry Christmas!

 

 

 

Valleys

On August 2 I really wanted to write a "One Year Since Diagnosis" post.  Dave's birthday 2012, one year since we sat with the doctor confirming our fear that yes, it was Colon Cancer that had sent us to the ER two night earlier.  I expected to have great wisdom and insight that day.  We had experienced so much, surely there would be a great post flowing from my fingertips. 

Just days ago I wanted to write a "One Year Since Surgery" post...one year since the day Dr. Klatt removed the deadly disease.  Yet it didn't seem I had any grand thought to post, no way to sum up the year.

Last spring someone gave me the idea to put this blog in book form for Dave for a Christmas present.  It sounded like a good idea until I realized I was waiting for the "happy ending" to include in the last page of the book.  Well, the happy ending hasn't happened yet and Christmas is coming soon!   Like a good movie, everything should culminate in an ending that brings all the pieces of the puzzle together in a neat little package.  Everything finally makes sense, and they all live happily ever after.  Yet it seems like most of the pieces of our puzzle are missing and nothing makes sense, in fact someone threw in a few pieces that don't even belong to us!

Dave is still struggling, one of the common side effects of chemo is depression, even long after your last dose.  He has been trying to be strong and battle through it, but it takes a toll and even the best get weary of chronic pain/depression.

I went to our annual Christmas Luncheon last weekend with Julia and our speaker was phenomenal.  She spoke straight to my heart.  She shared a puritan prayer called, Valley of Vision and I am sure it was written for me to pray daily.  Here it is:

The Valley of Vision

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory. Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision. Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine; let me find Thy light in my darkness, Thy life in my death, Thy joy in my sorrow, Thy grace in my sin, Thy riches in my poverty, Thy glory in my valley.

Our path seems to have woven it's way down into the Valley of the Unexpected, but isn't that so often where we see the Lord more clearly?  In a burning bush, in a lion's den, in the belly of a great fish, in a manger, in a cancer diagnosis.  These are not places we seek, but where we find ourselves...or where we find our God. 

While we don't have a "storybook ending" to this chapter of our lives (as I actually posted months ago), we do trust the Author of our story.  And instead of feeling "stuck" in this Valley of the Unexpected, I will choose to see this as The Valley of Vision.  From the title of this blog...this is not the end, but it is the road.  So our story will continue, I won't be able to yell, "That's a wrap!"  Instead I will choose to rejoice, even in the valleys and trust the Lord to lead us through in His time, in His way for this is His story.

Pirouette!

SURPRISE!

Today we pulled the kids out of school a little early for another surprise adventure...I'd better slow down otherwise they are going to expect this way too often.  However, I could not pass on this incredible opportunity!

Just over a week ago, my Aunt Anitha sent me a link to a blog from the News Tribune about sailing aboard the Thunderbird #2 sailboat, the Pirouette to be exact.  There were several chances to sail for free this month. This happened to be my great uncle's boat (Admiral James Russell) and then my Uncle Ken's boat.  (Anitha's late husband).  Anitha wrote, "This was our boat for many years. I spent my honeymoon on this boat and we have many wonderful memories of vacations and relaxing and exciting times in all kinds of weather". This boat is now owned by the Gig Harbor BoatShop.  Volunteers spent over 2 years renovating this boat (labor of love I might say) and thousand of dollars restoring her to her original condition.  In fact here is a picture of Jaime Storkman, one of the men that made this possible.  (So sad I didn't get a picture of his good buddy Ed Josberger who together took us out into the harbor)

We were able to take advantage of a cancellation and go sailing today!  Jaime and Ed were amazing, letting the kids move around the boat freely and even allowing Daniel to steer with the tiller.  They are Thunderbird owners and are experts in my opinion about these beautiful boats.  The boats were designed in 1957 to be both a racing and cruising boat, to sleep four, be capable of being built by reasonably skilled amateurs, to be powered by an outboard auxiliary and outperform all other sailboats in its class.  The challenge was that the boat had to be built of plywood, a concept that was virtually unheard of at the time. (excerpt from Gig Harbor BoatShop flyer)  Ed Hoppen built this boat, sold it to the Thorpe's, then my great uncle purchased it.  It was in our family for about 30 years. It was really fun hearing Jaime share fond memories of my Uncle Ken. He was an adventurous, fun loving, family man. I got a little sad as I envisioned him out here sailing with Jaime and Ed.

I cannot express what a treat this was (Did I mention, these men are still volunteering?  They did this for FREE?!) I never would have dreamt for a chance like this...you all know my passion for the water, add family history and my husband and kids....wow.

Read more here: http://www.thenewstribune.com/2012/05/16/2146239/thunderbird-no-2-to-return-to.html#storylink=cpy

I must add that Dave said this was the most relaxing 90 minutes he's had in weeks.  This was the icing on the cake.  Dave's really been struggling, working long hours, in constant pain, wondering if the cancer will return.  For him to have this afternoon was priceless.

(Look ~ he's smiling!)

 

And so are we!

 It was smooth sailing, way to go buddy!

Isn't she beautiful~

 (Thunderbird #2 - yes, the second one built, amazing right?)

Well done Eddon Boat Company and thank you Jaime and Ed for a fantastic and memorable day.

We'll be back for sure!

A Closer Look

We went to Spooner Farms last Friday.  We thought we'd take advantage of a day off of school and officially welcome the fall season in the NW by going to a pumpkin patch.  (We have had an unusual and wonderful fall...sunshine for weeks!  Finally the cold and rain have arrived.  You just can't go to a pumpkin patch without cold weather and boots can you?)  I purpose to have "family time" for many reasons.  First, it is good for us!  But also, I want my children to have memories of the four of us adventuring together.  I can't put my finger on it (or I don't know that it is even right), but besides enjoying the present, I want our kids to have good memories and fun stories of their past.  Anyway, I posted some of our pictures on facebook and thought, wow...we look like a totally normal family. 

I love this picture of this path (shocking, I know)...it made me think of our lives right now a little.  It looks neat and tidy, it's green and growing, there is a path before us.  What you can't see are the black little bugs on the corn or that some of the branches are broken and left limp on the stalk.  You don't notice the grey clouds hanging in the sky.  I'm sure to some our lives look pretty neat and tidy, green and growing.  What you don't see is Dave limping through the cornstalks in pain from his neuropathy, wanting to find every check point so his kids can get a prize.  What you don't feel is the sweat forming on his brow as his heart starts racing with the sense of the rows closing in on him, anxiety taking over his normally steady mind.  We had to practically make a beeline for the truck so he wouldn't totally lose it right there in the middle of giant spiders, wheel barrels, caramel apples and bunnies.  We did make it to the truck and safely home...with two perfect pumpkins. (actual pumpkins, not our kids...they made it too though)  This is what you don't see from facebook photos, or even maybe from seeing us in person.

So I thought I should share a closer look.  Many of you have been asking about Dave and this seems to be about our new normal.  Figuring out the effects of the chemo and how to adjust our lives until another new normal sets in.  Dave is often tired, forgetful, anxious and in pain.  The doctor said this is all typical and not surprising (to him maybe....).  Dave is pressing on though, working hard and trying to make it through the day and looking forward to better days ahead.

I'm very proud of him as this has not been what we expected for 2012.  Psalm 20:7 says, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."  We can't put our trust in human hands, in treatments and diets, in time lines and deadlines, (though those are good things), but we can put ALL of our trust in the Name of the Lord our God.  So we will trust Him and thank Him for the good, the bad, the normal and difficult. And we can thank Him for family days in the cold and rain and for the memories these days forge.

Weep and rejoice?

My fingers have sat motionless on this keyboard for several moments...it's been so long since I've blogged and I have so much to say, I just don't know where to start.

I don't think I can possibly catch up the last few months in one post, so maybe I'll tackle that on the next post.  I am just so compelled to process through yesterday for now.

Two events collided last night and left me quite emotional.  Romans 12 is so rich with wisdom for daily living, verse 15 says "Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep."  Well, that is what I did all in about 2 hours.



One of my favorites with Kim in California.

I blogged about my niece last August.  She had sent us a book, The Cancer Fighting Kitchen.  She had begun her journey with cancer just months ahead of us and was a great encouragement to us in those early days.  She lived in Hawaii with her husband and 3 beautiful daughters, near to my brother and his wife.  Long story short, her breast cancer metastasized to her brain this year.  She had been hospitalized and then was home with hospice care.  My sister Lily called weeping last night, dad had called and told her Kim had passed away.  He was so emotional, he couldn't call his other two daughters at that moment, so asked Lily to call us.  I was able to have a sweet conversation with both of my sisters and finally my dad.



Dad, Kim and Nancy (isn't she adorable!)

I experienced a new emotion as I processed through what had just happened.  Survivor Guilt.  I don't really know if that is what it is called, but Dave has been given life, and Kim death.  How is that right?  I quickly tried to combat any feelings of guilt or unworthiness with truth, with a grateful heart.  We don't know, this side of heaven why up is up and down is down.  We don't know why He gives and takes away, what we can say is Blessed be the Name of the Lord. 

So that is clearly my weeping that happened last night.  Weeping for my family, her family.  Weeping for dreams that will go unrealized for her children, all the firsts and lasts she would have experienced with them.  You all know, you have experienced loss, maybe not by death, but in other ways.  It changes us. It hurts. Yet there is healing...sometimes it's slow, but I believe it is promised.



One of our first of many times together.  Sorry about
over exposure! Yikes ;)

So the rejoicing piece.  I have another niece (I am blessed with many actually), Stephanie.  When Dave and I got married she was about five.  She has always lived in Texas and we have always lived in Washington.  Thankfully, her parents have done a great job about coming to the Northwest to see family.   Since we've met, I've always felt a connection to her...not sure what it is, but it's there.  Then Julia came along and I think Stephanie felt that connection with her.  Steph has come and stayed with us and even vacationed with us when we went to Texas a few years back.



Vacationing with the family at the beach,
french braiding Steph's hair.

Great little hotel by the River Walk.

Stephanie just got engaged a couple weeks ago and we are so thrilled.  She told Dave she was sending Julia something in the mail about the wedding (at least that's what I remember him telling me).  Yesterday Julia got a pretty pink envelope from Stephanie that says, "Julia there is no one else I'd rather have by my side, will you be my Bridesmaid".  She hand wrote a sweet note on the back.  Julia read it intently as I was begging to read it.  Her eyes seemed a little glossy, and when she finally handed it to me, I cried.  (Rejoicing tears this time)          



I had NO idea she was asking her to be a bridesmaid.  What an honor and gift for Julia, thank  you Stephanie!  I realize it's not about her, it's YOUR day, but this really is a sweet gift to our daughter. Julia and I both got to talk with Steph and get even more excited.  Julia mentioned something about getting your nails done together? : )



Cousins!  Or Bride and Bridesmaid :)

I am giddy with excitement for this couple and yet I am grieving for my other niece.  How do these two emotions reside in the same heart at the same time?  As I thought about sharing these two events, I didn't know which to share first, wanting to honor both families.  Is it okay to rejoice when another is weeping...is it okay to weep as another is rejoicing?  Yes, yes it is.  This is life...and death.  He gives and He takes away, sometimes it is over the course of our lives and sometimes it is over the course of 2 short hours.  My heart can still say, blessed be the Name of the Lord.




Mammogram

So I'll keep this "G" rated since I think my dad will be reading this (hi dad, love you!)...

I had a mammogram today, it's really not as bad as all those awful stories you hear.  Just really awkward!  I called two weeks ago to schedule this annual rite of passage (aging).  The gal asked if I had any pain and I said yes a little (I think I pulled a muscle trying to get rid of some downed limbs in the yard).  She said, "Oh, well then we need to stop right here.  I can't schedule just any normal mammogram, you need a diagnostic bilateral ultrasound mammogram".  Only the best for me!  I asked if I could hang up and call back and say, with my best Barbie impersonation, "no,  I don't have any pain" when asked again.  I felt too guilty, even though I was sure there was nothing wrong, so I agreed to call  my PCP and ask her to give me a referral for this increased torture, special procedure.

So I went in today.  After the imaging was done I was asked to wait to see if the radiologist was satisfied with the images.  They have you sit in a small room with four seats and three walls (don't know why that is important...).  I had that feeling again, that one I get every now and then since Dave's cancer diagnosis.  That one when you are quiet and you think, at any moment now, my world could be turned upside down.  What if she walks back in and says they found a lump?  Would she send me in for a biopsy, how could I fit in all those doctor appointments?  Would this take a year, two, three...out of my life, of my life? 

There are moments when I am acutely aware that I really am not in control of my life.  This was one of those moments.  For some it's a car accident, a death, a pink slip, spilled coffee...I thought, what in the world would I do if I have cancer?  Well, I figured we'd just deal with it, like we've done once before.  Fortunately I didn't wait long and Suzanne came back in and said everything looked great, no worries.  I almost laughed, okay then, that was anticlimactic!

I got out to the car and texted Dave that all was fine.  Then I almost cried.  A wash of relief flooded over me as I finally breathed out.  I think I had held my breath during that whole appointment and hadn't realized it.  I think if we hadn't experienced cancer first hand this last year, I would have put this appointment off for a good year or two.  Of course I'm glad (now) that I went.  So girls, if I can do this so can you!  Early detection...two of my new favorite words...get checked, be proactive with your health, we've got one life to live!  (And then after your mammogram, we can compare stories and laugh hysterically!)

Dying

I wonder if God prepares us to experience His presence or is it as we draw near to Him that we recognize His presence more clearly? 

Yesterday was a strange day, I was frustrated by many things.  I chose to let my mind dwell on things above though instead of my circumstances.  I thought a lot about Joseph, how he was a regular guy, a real guy (sometimes I'll read about these people in scripture and forget that they were flesh and blood, not just a name in a grand story).  I wondered what he did when his brothers stripped him of his colorful coat and cruelly threw him in that pit.  He had just traveled quite a distance to find them and bring back a report to his dad and they do this?  I don't see in scriptures any indication on what he did or how he responded...it seems like if he had screamed or tried to get out it would have been noted.  Was he confused, after those dreams he had this didn't really fit in with his purpose in life.  Was he scared, lonely, hungry?  Did he sit in complete peace and trust that God would accomplish His will when circumstances dictated otherwise?

I didn't come up with too many answers, I decided he was probably pretty shaken up, but that he knew the Lord was with him, even in that pit.  I decided to take that stand.  There has been a swirl of activity around me that has me shaken...not just our circumstances, but of others around us also.  So much heart ache.  But I know the Lord is with me and that is enough right?  The One who created the universe, who spoke it into being, who spoke me into being, no that is not just enough...He is more than enough.

Today I chose to trust God, even though nothing had changed (except for me I guess).  I had a surprisingly sweet morning.  What I thought would be an uncomfortable, obligatory meeting ended up being a sweet time of fellowship with a dear woman I greatly admire.  I left thanking God that this morning was considerable different than yesterday.

Then I went to work.  I started in on my long list of tasks to complete when our office manager asked to speak to me privately (eek...that didn't sound good).  We went next door and she handed me a 'love gift' from an anonymous person.  I can't even say out loud (or type I guess) how much it was...let's just call it Extremely generous...yes, with a capital E.  I wept.  I have never felt more undeserving.  This is just one more picture of Christ's extravagant love for us.  (While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.)

Anyway, I tried to pull it together and went back to my office.  Niki said, "Are you okay?"  I nodded (since I couldn't talk yet).  She said something like "So no one died right?".  I said no, but then my heart twinged as I thought: no one died, but something did.  Ouch, what was that?  Oh yes, my pride...being pruned again.  This is not how I planned my life, is this what it means to be crucified with Christ?  The dying to pride, self-sufficiency (or the appearance of it), selfish dreams...oh to say it is no longer I who live, but Christ in me.

So once again I will choose as I think Joseph did, to set my mind on things above, not on the things that are on the earth.  I am intensely grateful for the sacrificial gift we received today and how it was a resounding declaration into my heart of the Lord's presence.

THANK YOU anonymous person(s)...the money is a great relief to us, the lesson...well, priceless.