Faithful... Loyal... Steadfast...

Two years ago we left a vocational ministry and re-entered the "real" world. It's been a strange but good adjustment. Hubby is working full-time, and I'm blessed to be back at home after nine years of being a working mom while the kids were still in school - whew! Now we have an empty nest (which is kind of a neat thing), but I'm trying to figure out what exactly I should be doing with my time. 

Hubby jokes that I'm retired and loves me being home, and I love taking care of things around the house. My grown daughter is glad I'm home so she can come over during her lunch hour, for supper and movie nights, or to do laundry. The college kids appreciate that I'm available when they need something... like money... It's nice to be able to go visit our married daughter's sweet little family (yay for grandkids). And I'm sure the dog is thrilled to have me let him out and back in all day long.

I enjoy working in the yard and trying to grow food, creating things for my Etsy shop, and having time for the endless list of projects. But since the stupid virus, I feel a little bit like a hermit. I miss my friends at Bible study, miss meeting someone for coffee, and even miss smiling at people so they can actually see it. I'm home almost all the time now... and may or may not talk to myself more than I should - HA!

So with all this time, I can do a lot of thinking and asking myself questions. Should I be doing more of something? How do I make an impact on people when I'm not around people? Will God say, "Well done, good and faithful servant" if I'm not out serving? Is the guilt I'm feeling really from Satan to make me doubt this season of quiet? 

When I was going through cancer, I had such clarity on how God was working. I felt like I had relevant things to share with people. I felt like I had a purpose... a responsibility to show my family and friends and others going through cancer that God is still good even in the bad. That spiritual and eternal healing is so much more important than physical healing. As weird as it sounds, I felt like I was right where I was supposed to be. 

But what about during this season of quiet? 

In a Bible study video by proverbs31.org, I heard the following: "Our identity is not in what we do but in what God has already done!" I needed that today! Especially in a season when a "job" isn't defining me. I'm not working at a Christian college, a student ministry, or a children's home anymore. I'm not a stay-at-home mom raising and homeschooling my kids. 

Christine Caine says that if God has assigned you, He will find you. So be faithful... be loyal... be steadfast... WHERE YOU ARE!  

How does that look for me right now? I'm trying to be faithful in praying for others - which is definitely a work in progress. I'm trying to be loyal in studying God's word - which takes some discipline without face-to-face accountability. I'm trying to be steadfast in loving and encouraging my family - which is hard to know how to do when the kids are away from the nest. 

So while I'm waiting on a specific assignment, I will "be still and know" in this season of quiet. I will recognize that my identity is not because of anything I do or a job that I have. I will be faithful... I will be loyal... and I will be steadfast right where I am!

Rain, Rain, Go Away - Part 2

Following the flood, we felt very lost and needy. The maintenance department on campus probably got tired of hearing from us, but when a vacant house suddenly gets occupants, things need done... like hooking up the washing machine, repairing the hot water heater, fixing plumbing issues, etc.

It took days to get everything moved out of the flooded house and to get all the wet items washed. It took weeks to sort through tubs and find things trying to figure out how much to unpack and put away not knowing if/when we'll get back to our house. We were hopeful that our house would be repaired so we could move back and carry on as normal. Yeah, right!

Unfortunately, four weeks after the flood, we found out the house was going to be demolished. Even though we don't own the house, it was sad news to hear. We had lived there for almost eight years. Now what? Well, we had to clean out the attic...and the shed... The shed had flooded more than we realized and was a nasty smelly mess. We threw out anything that was wet, moldy, or absorbed the moldy odor - our Christmas tree, books, furniture, memorabilia, etc. We were tired...tired of moving, tired of the wet, tired of the smell...just tired!

We finally had everything moved over to the other house. Would we get to stay? Nothing was decided for almost four more weeks. We were starting to feel at home in the other house. We were fixing things, deep cleaning, painting, doing yard work and landscaping, and enjoying the new neighbors.

Then came the dreaded news that we'd have to move...again...to another house on campus...a much smaller house than what we had...and by the end of next month!

While the timing and details are being worked out concerning the move, we are searching for the lessons God is wanting us to learn while trying to remain joyful.

The kids are not thrilled to move back to the same area that flooded... in fact, we all cringe a little at the sound of rain and thunder. Jessika is changing her college plans and now moving away for the school year. Jarod is frustrated about losing space for having friends over and a place to hang out and play games. Daryl and I will have to purge and downsize even more.

Those aren't bad things...but they aren't what we want to do. What about our hobbies and collections? Do I give up stamping while we're in the smaller house? How long would that be? Does Jarod's nutcracker collection go in storage? Jessika's books? What about no office space for Daryl? Smaller bedrooms? Less bathrooms? No laundry room? No dishwasher? I know, these are all 1st world problems...but right now they are our problems...

I keep thinking how ironic it is that when we went through cancer, there was nothing to question - we just did what had to be done. So this should be easy...it's NOT cancer...it's just a house... But right now, it's our life and it doesn't feel any more settled than it did eight weeks ago when water started coming in under the back door.

Is God testing our obedience - OR - Is He preparing us for new opportunities?

Do our kids sacrifice again for our ministry - OR - Do we make changes for them?

Thankfully, we love and serve a mighty God who loves us and already knows how this is all going to work out for good!

Finally finished at the old house!

Be sure to read Part 1

We Have This Hope

What is this hope? Not the kind of hope we throw around in casual conversation...

"I hope tomorrow is a nice day."

"I hope I get a letter in the mail."

"We hope things turn out for the best."

I'm talking about the hope we have in Christ - for salvation and eternal life!

This hope can easily be taken for granted. Growing up in a Christian home and being at church whenever the doors were open, sometimes hope was a given. It just was. And it wasn't until facing cancer that I realized the power of this hope - this hope in Christ. Because without the promise of salvation and eternal life, a diagnosis is meaningless... healing is meaningless... and life is meaningless...

I was sweetly reminded of this incredible hope while representing Cookson Hills during a missions weekend at our church. I admit, I tend to tune out when it comes to talking about missions or listening to missionaries. A lot of us probably have images of huts in the bush with memories of boring slide shows... But it's a whole new world out there!!! Missions is everything from children's homes and schools to coffee houses and libraries!

The weekend gave me a new appreciation for today's missionaries and the importance of sharing this HOPE with people. In fact, I came away with four distinct observations:

1. Persecution of Christians is Real

We can easily distance ourselves from the persecution of Christians around the world because it's so far away and isn't personal. Our speaker for the missions weekend was very real and had been very persecuted in his home country. The government caused a wreck that injured his son, injured his wife, and killed his unborn child. His home was invaded and belongings confiscated...at least twice. He and his family were harassed and received death threats to the point that they were forced to escape the country for their safety. They are now based in the United States where they work with Gospel Wave Media Ministry and share Jesus via satellite.

2. Heart Language

People need to hear Jesus in their heart language or mother tongue. Our speaker shared that watching the Jesus film years ago put out by CRU (formerly Campus Crusade for Christ) and hearing Jesus speak in his heart language was the turning point for him. Jesus is for ALL people, so we need to share Jesus in ALL cultures... not just our "American" ways.

3. Technology Rules

Did you know most people around the world have cell phones or satellite? Even in the desert??? And in the slums??? People may not have electricity, but they have solar powered chargers for their phones! Or someone in town may have a generator and collect a fee to let people use it to charge their devices. Technology has opened up a whole new opportunity to reach people in closed countries. People may not be allowed to meet in person for church, but they can meet in chat rooms on-line.

4. Israel is Vital

Praying for the peace of Israel is obviously important for the people of Israel, but it is also vital for spreading the gospel to the world. It is a satellite hub for many ministries. Gospel Wave uploads their programming to Israel where it is then sent to closed countries.

So... what does this hope mean for those who don't know Christ? What if they worship Allah or another god? What if they worship L. Ron Hubbard or another person? What if they do more good works than I will ever do? It doesn't matter how much they believe in their god or how good they are, they have NO HOPE without this HOPE!

Jesus is the only way to salvation!

"I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." - John 14:6

People need to know about this hope, and we need to tell them!

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek. - Hebrews 6:19-20

My Two Words

It's time to pick my word for 2017... Last year I tried to focus on the word SIMPLIFY. I wanted to simplify my commitments and my stuff. I'd say it was probably the most successful year as far as sticking to my resolutions and goals. No, I wasn't perfect, but I was mindful and purposeful. I mean, I used a scrapbooking app (Project Life) and documented EVERY week this whole year! WHAT!!! Of course, I still need to get them printed...

My main resolution was to quit saying yes to things out of obligation or guilt. I think I did pretty well. I did not take on anything new that required me to be in charge. I did not join every activity that presented itself to me. And I was able to say no when I didn't feel like it was the best yes! Talk about freeing!!!

My other resolution was to simplify my stuff. Baby steps, right! I've done some but still have a lot of decluttering to do. Both of these resolutions will carry over to 2017!

I had also set some goals for the year in the areas of Faith, Family, Finance, and Fitness. I posted my Sweet 16 for 2016 goals on my bathroom mirror - which really kept me reminded of what I wanted to accomplish. It takes determination and discipline - neither are easy for me - but I stuck to it pretty well. I have tweaked those goals for 2017 and will keep plugging along!

So now a word to keep me focused and motivated for the new year is actually two words:

One thing my cancer journey is teaching me is that life is to be LIVED! It's okay to step out of my comfort zone and experience new things. It's okay to have fun. It's okay to get rid of obligation and guilt. It's okay to dream BIG.

Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.

~ Ephesians 3:20 NLT 

It's time to come alive and live life filled with the Holy Spirit - to be a soul on fire with the breath of God giving life to my dry bones!

As we call out to dry bones 

come alive, come alive

We call out to dead hearts 

come alive, come alive

Up out of the ashes, let us see an army rise

We call out to dry bones 

come alive

My Talk About Our Walk

Earlier this month Daryl and I represented TEAM TERRI at the Tulsa Light the Night Walk awards dinner. The top 5 Corporate, Friends & Family, and Individual fundraisers were recognized with a framed team picture taken at the Walk. TEAM TERRI was the #4 Friends & Family team for the Tulsa Walk!!! WOO HOO!!!

When I gave our RSVP for the dinner, the coordinator asked if I would share about why we walk, how we raise funds, and what we appreciate about The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. I was honored, and this is what I wrote to help me keep my thoughts straight!

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

We participate in the Light the Night Walk because blood cancer is now a part of our lives. Four years ago this Christmas, my mom noticed a lump near my collar bone. After several doctor visits, tests, biopsies, and then surgery, I was diagnosed with two types of non-Hodgkin Lymphoma – Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma and Follicular Lymphoma. I had six rounds of R-CHOP and am doing well.

At my chemo orientation, the nurse practitioner mentioned the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Since the only thing I knew about lymphoma was that my husband’s grandma died from it over 20 years ago, I was thankful for a reputable organization dedicated to blood cancer. As you know, the internet can be super scary when googling for information, so I tried to stick to LLS as my main resource.

I also took advantage of their Co-Pay Assistance program. When my doctor visits require a 150 mile round trip to Tulsa, being reimbursed for my co-pays is a big help! And I love that LLS has a very involved advocacy program that keeps us updated and provides the information so all we usually have to do is click a link!

At the end of my treatment, I was searching for ways to give back and be involved in awareness efforts. I found information about the Light the Night Walk and knew we had to do it. I appreciate that it’s more intimate than a 5K race – which we’ve also done – and that my whole family can participate with me. TEAM TERRI isn’t huge – it’s just my family – so the Walk is a great way for us to celebrate together and have a meaningful time to reflect on our journey and know that our fundraising is helping others. I love the white lantern and survivor shirt. I love that my husband and kids are recognized with red lanterns as supporters. And I love that my mother-in-law can carry a yellow lantern in memory of her mother. And this year, my father-in-law joined us with a white lantern for his battle with multiple myeloma.

I’m especially proud to be associated with an organization that gives 74% towards research and patient services! Not very many organizations can say that – especially some of the really well-known ones…

Fundraising is a little tricky for us. We live out in the country and work at a non-profit ministry, so we don’t really have the opportunity to use our workplace as a fundraising venue. I keep a “Coins for a Cure” can on my desk year round and had close to $50 by the time of the walk. In the spring I have a garage sale and use the money as a Kick-Off to our TEAM TERRI fundraising. The majority of our fundraising comes from friends and family. I use Facebook as my platform for requesting donations and take advantage of September being Blood Cancer Awareness Month. I make sure our Light the Night pages are set up and ready to go by August and then in September post something daily about blood cancer and our walk and include our TEAM TERRI link. It’s great that LLS already has graphics to use – plus my husband is a graphic designer and makes me lots of stuff! I post all year long to keep focus on blood cancer and finding a CURE!

I’m thankful to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for their information and resources, their patient services and co-pay assistance, their advocacy on behalf of blood cancer patients, and especially for funding RESEARCH which is developing new treatments that are saving lives and will someday lead to a CURE! The statistics now compared to 40 years ago are amazing, and I’m thankful to be one of the new numbers! THANK YOU!

Official "team" picture at the Walk

We're on our way to the Walk

Two of my kiddos

Showing off our SURVIVOR shirts

My Sweetie and biggest cheerleader

The beginning of the Walk

Jessika's Heart

I've prayed God would be real to my kids, and He answered! My daughter had an assignment to write about a significant event in her life. I'm very proud of her courage to share from her heart... with her class... and on my blog! She has become one of my biggest encouragers!

The Year that Changed Everything…

by

Jessika Williams

            It was Christmas Eve 2013. I was just 15 years old. My family and I were at my grandma’s house for Christmas just like every year, opening presents, eating sugar cookies, and watching cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies. We had to head back home that day after presents and Christmas dinner with the family. Before we left my grandma asked my mom what that lump was on her neck. “What is that, Terri?” she asked, pointing to my mom’s neck.

            “What?” my mom asked confused. She put her hand up to her throat and felt a lump. “That’s weird… I’ve never noticed that.”

            “You should probably get that checked out. It could be a swollen lymph node,” my Grandma said matter-of-factly.

            I never thought too much about the lump on my mom’s neck. I knew it couldn’t be anything serious because nothing serious could happen to my family. It wasn’t until later that I realized how wrong I was…

*****

            In the early days of January, my mom went to the doctor for tests and scans of her neck. It felt like weeks before we finally got the news that changed everything. Cancer. Non-Hodgkin lymphoma, a cancer that infects the lymph nodes all over your body.

            My stomach dropped. I barely remember my parents actually telling me that it was cancer. The whole thing was such a blur. My mom has cancer, I thought to myself in disbelief. She started chemotherapy almost immediately after getting diagnosed. It all happened so fast, but in a way, it felt like time was agonizingly slow.

            I had a lot of resentment in the beginning of this never-ending journey, mostly towards God. My family had always gone to church, always been Christians, and I was angry with God for letting this happen to my mom. This is what we get for following you? I asked Him. I hated Him for a long time because he gave my mom cancer.

            I felt like I was in a bad dream. A dream I could not wake my self up from no matter how hard I tried. At school I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me - my teachers, my friends. It’s like everyone was waiting for me to have a nervous breakdown. I acted out in school and almost twice a week or more I was getting sent to the principal’s office for talking in class and being disrespectful. I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care about school, my grades, how I treated others… I was so full of resentment and sadness.

            My mom was amazing through it all. She had chemo all the time, but still went to work and put on a smile everyday no matter how tired and sick she was feeling. That’s just the kind of person my mom is. She never made us feel scared, and she never resented God. Seeing her become closer to God, when he allowed her to have cancer, amazed me. My dad was just the same. He stepped up and took care of my mom and us kids, and that strengthened our relationships with him. Looking at how they dealt with it made me realize I was reacting in all the wrong ways. I saw that I needed to be there for my parents and siblings and be an encourager rather than a discourager.

            Though I felt a change needed to happen, it took me a long time to even pick up my Bible again. Once I finally did, I found peace. My anger with God began to fade and my relationship with him and my parents grew stronger because of the cancer.

            In a way, I’m thankful for the cancer because it brought something other than just pain and sickness. It brought me a new understanding of love and life. It taught me to cherish every moment I have on this earth and with the people in my life. It brought me closer to my parents and God and it strengthened those relationships. Cancer showed me who my true friends were that would stand by me through the tears and through the happiness.

            Life always brings things we don’t expect. I never thought my family would be troubled with something as awful as cancer, but here we are. Three years later and still working through it. My mom truly is my hero and I’m grateful to have shared our story.

Special encouragement for scan day!

Three Years!

This week was another CT scan and follow up with my oncologist. It's been almost three years since finishing treatment for my lymphoma - THREE YEARS!!!

In those three years my oncologist's office has moved, my original doctor left, and the practice has changed names. For someone who is comfortable with the familiar, these have been big changes! But one good thing with the name change and partnering with St. John Hospital and MD Anderson is that I can now have my scans done AT Oklahoma Cancer Specialists and Research Institute (formerly Tulsa Cancer Institute) and insurance will approve it!

So this week was a familiar scan (how many have I had???) but at a new place. Every place does their stuff differently, and that always adds a little stress to an already somewhat stressful situation. This was the first time my port was accessed for the contrast IV (which everyone should experience at least once). No biggie, but the tape they used to keep everything in place from the lab to radiology was too tight and I couldn't even stand up straight without my port digging into whatever muscle it's on.

The nurse brought out TWO big styrofoam cups of a delicious somewhat nasty liquid to drink - one right then and one about 15 minutes later. I asked her to fix the tape on my port... right in the middle of the waiting room... but I didn't care. It was nice to move without pain!!!

I waited at least 30 minutes before getting called back for the scan. That's a lot of time to get worked up and start freaking out about what they might find. I got the shakes and couldn't stop. Poor Daryl was getting worried about me. I kept quoting my mantra:

Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord; whose confidence is in him. - Jeremiah 17:7

And even added the next two verse:

He will be like a tree planted by the water 
that sends out its roots by the stream. 
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit. - Jeremiah 17:8-9

The CT scan itself was fairly routine. I wore a shirt with a design of metal accents so had to change into a gown. Who knew just figuring out what to wear would be such a big deal. It needs to be fairly warm (the clinic is on the cool side) with a neck line that allows easy access to my port, and no metal for a scan. And it also needs to be cute so I feel good, right!

Since I had the scan at the clinic in the morning, we left for lunch and a little shopping before going back in the afternoon to get the results from my oncologist. That waiting... it's a big part of the journey, but still not fun. I'm not sure it gets easier, but hopefully we're wiser!

RESULTS ARE GOOD!!! No changes or signs of enlarged lymph nodes!!! Bloodwork showed elevated liver enzymes, but my liver was clear on the scan, so Dr. Taylor isn't concerned. My alkaline phosphatase was below normal which is related to my bone density and osteopenia. He said to keep taking the Prolia shots! Everything else was pretty much perfect!

I've graduated to seeing my oncologist every six months! I'll have one more yearly scan to check a spot that is unchanged from last year and is probably scar tissue. If next year's scan is unchanged, I won't need one every year. We even talked about taking out my port... except the follicular lymphoma dictates it stays. In fact, my doctor said something like this: Oh yeah, you also have the follicular. The diffuse large B cell is probably cured. The follicular will probably come back, so the port stays.

That's the update! Scan in one year, visit to oncologist with blood work every six months, keep the port and have it flushed every two months. Works for me! 

Thank you to all who continue to pray for us!!! You helped us get through an emotionally draining day!

Jarod's Sweet Perspective

As I reflect back on the beginning of this journey three years ago, I'm reminded of many blessings. My kids have been a great support and encouragement to me! I want to share a sweet paper my son wrote for school that summarizes several events and conversations. He was 12 at the time of my diagnosis. 

                                                                                     

Cancer

“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!”  I heard as I stretched out my arm to turn off my alarm. Better get ready to go to Grandma’s house, I thought to myself. I slowly got out of bed and got all my things I needed to go to my grandma’s house for a week. After all of my family and I got everything we needed packed into our van, we set off for my grandma’s.

After a four hour car trip, which felt like ten hours, we finally made it. It wasn’t that bad of a trip; it was pretty nice actually, until my grandma pointed out something on my mom’s neck during dinner.

“It looks like you got a bump or something on your neck, Terri,” She said.  “What is it?’

“I don’t know. Do you guys see anything?”  She asked around the table.

“No, I don’t,” I told her.  At least, at the time I didn’t. As the trip went on, the more my grandma was talking about it, the more noticeable it became. My grandma kept going on and on about it, until my mom finally decided to get it checked at the doctor after we got back home. 

My mom and dad went to the doctor after her surgery to find out about the bump on her neck.  At the time I wasn’t worried. I figured if it was anything, it would be something small like some weird thing for the flu, but it wasn’t. When my parents got back from the doctor, they called my three sisters and me out to the living room and told us the bad news, that my mom was diagnosed with cancer. It hit my sisters and me pretty hard, but we tried not to show it, not wanting to make things worse for my dad because we could tell it hit him the hardest.

After we got the news things were really strange and different. Because of the medicine and chemo my mom was taking she couldn’t get any germs. Every time we went outside, shook hands with someone, or touched anything really, we had to use Germ-X and make sure our hands were germ free. My mom also had to carry a small bottle of hand sanitizer wherever she went.   

The chemo she was taking also made all her hair fall out so she had to get a wig. The whole family went with my mom to go help her pick out her wig. I don’t know if I was having trouble accepting the fact my mom got cancer or fathoming it, but when we were at the wig store is when everything really hit me. I don’t completely know what happened, but I just sort of broke down and started crying.  

My family knew before the wig store that I was having a hard time with everything, but they didn’t know I was taking it as hard as I was. It didn’t help when everyone would come up to me and try to tell me everything would be okay, not even when my parents told me that because if they were being honest, they didn’t know. The only thing that I or anyone could do that really helped was to pray, and that’s something I did a lot of.

I spent a lot of my time in my room the next couple of weeks thinking and praying about everything that was going on, while my parents spent a lot of their time making sure my sisters and I were okay when they weren’t at the doctor’s office. After my parents got back from their second doctor’s appointment, my mom came in to tell me about what her doctor said.

“Hey Jarod. Whacha doing?” she asked me.

“Oh, nothing, just some homework. How was your doctor’s appointment?’

“It was fine, but I wanted to tell you about what the doctor said about the cancer I have.”

“Oh, okay what?”

“Well it turns out I have two types of lymphoma. And I don’t have the worst type of lymphoma there is, but one type of cancer that can’t completely be cured.”

“So it will just lay dormant in you your whole life?” I asked with a confused face.

“Well, it won’t necessarily be dormant. It has a chance of coming back.”

“SO WHAT’S THE POINT OF EVEN HAVING MEDICINE IF IT WON’T CURE THE CANCER!?!” I shouted while tears were building up in my eyes.

“Because the medicine will help, and it doesn’t have a high chance of coming back after the medicine,” my mom told me while tears were building up in her eyes as well. At that point I didn’t know what to say, so I just laid down on my bed and cried. My mom stood in the middle of my room and slowly walked out.

It took a couple of days to realize that it was stupid of me to be mad, so I went to my mom and just said that I was sorry and walked away. I went to my room and thought for a bit about how things are going to be now that my mom has cancer and how just life was going to be.

            “God,” I said at the brink of tears. “You know that these last few weeks have been the hardest weeks I have ever had in my life, and even though this whole, I don’t know, thing or chapter of my life, I don’t know…  Even though it has been very hard, I can see, I-I know, there has been good in it as well. If this whole whatever never happened, I wouldn’t be as close to my family as I am now. I wouldn’t be as close to You as I am now, and as I said before it has been very hard, but I would not trade this experience for anything. So with all that said um, I just wanted thank you. Um, uh, I’m not saying I’m happy my mom got cancer, I’m saying I’m thankful for all of the good that came from this.”

            “Jarod,” my mom said as she slowly opened my door. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

           “Yeah, I’m doing okay. I’m sorry I’ve been giving you a hard time lately, it’s just been kinda hard adjusting, well more like accepting, everything that’s happened these last few weeks.”

            “It’s okay. I know you’ve been having a tough time. It’s been a tough time for everyone. This is just a part of life we have to get use to now.”

            “Yeah…  okay.” She then made her way to the door. “Mom,” I called out.

            “Yeah.”

            “So, you said the type of cancer you have, it’ll never completely be out of you, right?”

            “…Yeah.”

            “Hmm okay, that’s what I thought,” I said as she walked out of the room and closed the door. I sat on my bed for a little bit. I wasn’t thinking or praying, just sitting. And then I said, “Amen.”

November 2012 - two months before diagnosis

A Lifetime of Thankfulness

November starts the 30 Days of Thankfulness posts on Facebook - and one year I posted something I was thankful for each day (Days 1-11 and Days 12-30). I always enjoying reading what my friends post, but after an emotional day, this year I want to focus on how thankful I am for the HOPE we have in Christ - not just for 30 days, but for a lifetime!

Some days it hits me harder than others when my cancer junk is at the front of my thoughts. I can't even begin to imagine what veterans go through with PTSD. 

A graphic popped up on Facebook this morning stating November is National Caregivers Month (in addition to many other awareness issues). So on the way to church I'm thinking about how well my husband and family took care of me - and still do - during my treatment and the emotional roller coaster that is still a daily ride.

Now I begin reflecting on my journey...

While waiting for our service to start, I read an update about a little boy in our church who has neuroblastoma (Coltrane the Courageous). The honesty shared by Coltrane's dad is both heartbreaking and hopeful. It makes my emotional roller coaster look like a kiddie ride.

Now I begin feeling survivor's guilt...

Then we sing Great I Am (Phillips, Craig & Dean) and tears begin flowing as I reflect on the powerful words...

Hallelujah, holy, holy
God Almighty, the great I Am
Who is worthy, none beside Thee
God Almighty, the great I Am

I pull myself together for the sermon, but during offering we sing 10,000 Reasons (Matt Redman). That last verse always gets me...

And on that day when my strength is failing
The end draws near and my time has come
Still my soul will sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years and then forevermore 

Bless the Lord oh my soul
Oh my soul
Worship His Holy name
Sing like never before
Oh my soul
I'll worship Your Holy name 

Now I'm just a blubbering mess...

And tonight I read that Fred Thompson died - after a relapse of indolent lymphoma - which just brings up more emotions... and maybe a few fears...

I can't imagine getting through life - especially the tough things of life - without the promise of eternity in God's presence.
 
So, I'm going to keep my eye on the prize and pursue a lifetime of thankfulness for the HOPE I have in Christ - firm and secure!

The Most Unlikely

Do you ever feel insignificant? Or as if you're the most unlikely to make a difference? Welcome to my world.

I’m still trying to figure out what comes next in this crazy journey I’ve been on for almost three years. It's so easy to slip back into old habits when life isn't as tough as it had been. 

I want to dream big and do significant things for God, but I’m not sure what that looks like. And honestly, I feel a bit like the most unlikely to do great things. 

But I know that God didn’t bring me through the most wonderfully difficult experience of my life for me to return to complacency or remain stagnant.

So... what does God want me to do? How does He want me to encourage others?? To glorify Him???

I know fear and my own insecurities are big stumbling blocks. Talking about my cancer was easy. It was so tangible. It was there for the world to see, bald head and all. But knowing what to do now is scary and intimidating because it's not so in-your-face obvious. 

Wouldn't it be great if God painted a message in the sky that said, "Terri, I want you to ____________."

For now, I need to trust God while I continue...

• blogging... and trying to expand my writing - especially since it's good therapy.

• reading and learning... from God's Word, spiritual mentors, and inspirational authors.

• praying... for friends who are on a hard journey and for God's revelation of how He wants to use me. 

I just listened to a snippet from Patsy Clairmont that is exactly what I need to hear:

"God chooses to use the most unlikely to accomplish things far beyond what they believe they can do... When we get our eyes off of what we're not and focus on who He is, it will make all the difference."

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Why We Walk

It's time for another Light the Night Walk, and we need your support!!!

There's always confusion and mixed feelings when it comes to fundraising. I hate asking for money, and people want to know where their money is going. So, let me explain...

TEAM TERRI's participation in the Light the Night Walk is NOT a fundraiser for us personally. All proceeds from the Light the Night Walk go to the The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society to help advance their mission:  to CURE leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin's disease and myeloma, and improve the quality of life of patients and their families.

Here's a graphic showing how funds are used by LLS.

As a blood cancer patient, LLS has personally been a benefit to me through:

Educational Materials

LLS has materials for each specific type of blood cancer. It's been my "go-to" place for information on my two types of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. In fact, it's where I learned my Stage 3 diagnosis didn't necessarily mean the same as other Stage 3 cancers. Whew! The internet can be a scary place when looking up cancer. LLS is a reputable source with helpful information for my specific type of cancer. They also offer seminars (on-line and locally), forums, and on-line chats and webinars.

Co-Pay Assistance Program

I was able to qualify for the Co-Pay Assistance Program that reimburses me for co-pays during treatment and follow-up. It also reimburses part of my insurance premiums. That has been a huge help considering we drive 150 miles round trip for each appointment, port flush, and scan... not to mention paying for those appointments and scans :)

Government Advocacy

LLS has an advocacy group that works on behalf of cancer patients from the local to national level. They make it easy for others to be involved by providing links with e-mails already composed ready for us to hit send.

Light the Night Walk

The Light the Night Walk is a special evening that honors patients and survivors, caregivers, and those who have lost their battle to blood cancer. Our family represents all three groups - me as a survivor (white lantern), my family as excellent caregivers (red lantern), and in memory of my husband's grandmother who passed away from lymphoma before targeted therapies were developed (gold lantern). We're also walking in honor of my father-in-law who was recently diagnosed with multiple myleoma. The walk is very personal for our family!

RESEARCH, RESEARCH, RESEARCH

I love the truth of this picture...

The outcome of my therapy may have been totally different if not for the development of Rituxan - a targeted therapy that has been available for only 20 years. Without funding, there is no research. Without research, there aren't as many survival stories. In fact, 40 years ago, there was only a 3% chance of surviving childhood leukemia. Today, 90% of children with leukemia survive! Amazing!

So... that's why we participate in the Light the Night Walk and give to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. We'd love for you to support TEAM TERRI as we walk to the end of blood cancer.

Join our team or donate here!

Balance

Goodness... it's been four months since I updated my blog.

Today was a routine four month check up with labs, a port flush, AND finally meeting my new doctor. The verdict? We liked him!!! He had obviously studied my file and even sounded like he had been my doctor from the beginning. 

He changed the schedule of my port flushes to coincide better with my check ups, so now I'll go every two months for that and then every four months for labs and visits with him or the NP. And he said we'd wait until it's been a year to do another CT scan (which will be February)!

He also said if I'd only had the diffuse large B cell lymphoma (aggressive), I'd be good to go with no more scans. But... I don't... and the follicular lymphoma (indolent) is a bit trickier. Part of the trick is finding a balance between staying on top of a recurrence/relapse without exposing me to unnecessary radiation that could cause another kind of malignancy down the road. 

As we were walking to the car, Daryl laughed and said, "You just had to have the follicular, didn't you!" Thanks, Hon!

Besides cancer, there are a lot of aspects to life that require balance. I seem to have been off balance the last few months not only with my blogging, but with my exercising and even my quiet time (not to mention cleaning, organizing, appointments, budget, etc). It's all been a little random and hit-and-miss. 

After seeing some very frail patients at the clinic today, I decided I need to get serious about toning my body and building physical strength. And more importantly, I need to make my quiet time with God a priority and build my spiritual strength. It's time to find balance!

Perfectly Normal

I've waited almost two years to hear words confirming I'm in remission...at least as much in remission as I can be. This week my oncology Nurse Practitioner (Julie) told me my labs were good, my scans were good, and I was perfectly normal. WOO HOO!!! Of course, I chuckled knowing my family would be cracking up to hear me described as any kind of normal. Then she clarified, "On paper, you are normal." HA!

I went to my appointment with a couple of questions on my mind. First, since I had Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma (aggressive) along with Follicular Lymphoma (indolent), where do I fit when reading articles, listening to webinars, and attending seminars? I haven't found much that addresses aggressive and slow growing lymphomas at once. Julie explained I had two separate types of lymphoma and it will be hard to find information that applies to me having them together. So I'll just keep learning about BOTH.

The good news is the DLBCL (aggressive) is considered cured, and getting to the five year mark will be a relief. The not-as-good news is the FL (indolent) is not curable and could some day "rear it's ugly head." So, I'll be monitored for life - also known as watch and wait. Yep, for life... But it's comforting to know my doctor will be continually observing me.

The second question I had was if a CT scan will pick up bone cancer. Maybe I'm a little paranoid, but information is power, right?!?! My last couple of scans, as well as a bone scan after I cracked a rib, show degenerative arthritis and osteopenia, which I'm sure is the cause of my neck pain. Since pain is also a symptom of something more, I don't want to dismiss it just because nothing else showed up on my scan. Julie said a CT scan will show if cancer has spread to the bone. She also assured me that it is not common for lymphoma to metastasize to the bone like some other cancers. 

While cancer (and lime green) will always be a part of my life, it's becoming less and less the seemingly BIGGEST part of my life. I'm moving past the surviving stage and on to the thriving stage. I'm looking for ways to make the most of what I've learned and experienced. Life changing events force a new normal, and I'm becoming more comfortable with my new perfectly normal.

Fun Times with the CT Scan

As long as I'm journaling this whole journey for the world to read, I might as well include today's CT scan adventure. So I drive 70+ miles to Tulsa, take the wrong exit, but thankfully find my way to the hospital. I finally find a parking space, get to the right floor, and find where I check in. Already I've accomplished a lot!!!

I was prepared to pay my whole deductible and 20%, but insurance shows almost half of my deductible has been met. I'm not sure how, but I'm not arguing! Then I go to the radiology waiting room, fill out papers, and wait for the yummy drink. But the drink never comes... When the guy called me back, I asked if I was supposed to drink something. He said they quit doing that about a month ago and found it saved about an hour per patient. I hate to break it to them, but it did NOT make my visit any shorter.

I get the IV needle placed in my arm and sit and wait with a nice warm blanket (the best part). They call me back to the CT room and tell me I need to take off my bra if it has an underwire. Hmmmm. That's never been an issue with all my previous scans. No biggie, except I have an IV needle sticking out of my arm with my shirt and sweater sleeves pushed up above my elbow!!! Why couldn't they mention that BEFORE the IV?

The scan started with the same ol' instructions: take a breath and hold... breathe... take a breath and hold... breathe... I lost count. Then it was time for the contrast - nasty metallic taste and a warmth that spreads across my chest and downward until it feels like I've wet my pants. Seriously! It's the weirdest thing! And now you'll be prepared when it's your turn.

Finally, it's done and a different guy unhooks me and leads me out... without giving me the opportunity to put a certain article of clothing back on... Fun times!

The humor takes away some of the "scanxiety" - so it's all good. Just making memories!

"Cancerversary" is a Word!

Yep - it's a real word and now part of my vocabulary! Two years ago today I heard the diagnosis, "You have lymphoma." In some ways it all seems surreal. Did I really have cancer? The dreaded "c" word? Well, I did... and I'm better because of it. 

Isn't it crazy how God orchestrates even the tiniest details of reading a particular devotion on a particular day to impact the meaning? I'm reading through Blackaby's Experiencing God Day by Day, and two readings this week focused on Hebrews 5:7-9 and suffering.  

During the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered and, once made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him...

Jesus prayed "with loud cries and tears" to be spared from death.

• Been there, done that. 

Jesus "learned obedience from what he suffered."

• Still learning.

Jesus' suffering made Him perfect.

• Am I willing to suffer to become like Christ?

I'm sure I've read these verses many times, but I've never paid attention to how they guide my response to suffering - (the state of undergoing pain, distress, or hardship). And to be clear, I don't consider my journey as much suffering as just a "bump in the road" (to quote my sweet friend Linda Shedd). All in all, I've had it fairly easy.

My devotion explained that "God will always relate to me out of the context of His love for a lost world." It's not all about me. It's about God and His kingdom. I'm thankful for what I've learned and how my faith has grown during the past two years. 

With mixed emotions I welcome my "cancerversary" as an opportunity to reflect on how God is refining me and giving me purpose! I pray I will be a powerful testimony for Him.