“The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8 (NIV)

“Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.” (NLT)

I love these two translations of this verse in Deuteronomy, especially the NLT. “The Lord will PERSONALLY go ahead of you…” (emphasis mine) God himself goes before me, has already seen and been “on the inside” of our trial and knows exactly how to lead us through on the course that is best.

We had a great blessing this morning. Justin asked to go to school, which means he felt well enough to go! Jeff and I stayed in the classroom with him (Mrs. Shultz had chairs set up for us) and he only made it about twenty minutes before he got tired. But he got a big, wonderful welcome and we watched him cut out snowflakes with his class.

Mrs. Shultz was snapping pictures and making Justin laugh. I don’t know who was more excited! We are very grateful for Justin’s loving teacher and his sweet classmates.

We still have miles to go with Justin’s treatment and recovery, but today was a step forward.

Thank you for your faithful prayers! .

Life can change dramatically in thirty seconds, which is about how long it took for us to walk into a conference room, sit down on blue-cushioned chairs, and look at the doctor’s sympathetic face as she said, “I know you’ve been waiting all day so I’ll get right to the point. Your son has cancer. It is definitely leukemia. Acute-something-leukemia.”

I don’t remember anything she said after that. I only recall that she was wearing green. And that I covered my face as I sobbed and turned away to throw up into a nearby trash can.

It has mostly been a whirlwind since then, Jeff and I muddling through, like fumbling around for a light switch in the dark. Perhaps you can relate to your little world going off the rails in about thirty seconds or less. An accident happens or you receive news or a diagnosis and suddenly you are bleeding out shock, sorrow, survival and stress. Not necessarily in that order.

If you can’t relate or are not sure if you can, then this hasn’t happened to you. Yet. You may live to be seventy-five before it happens, but it will.

For those who are thinking, “yeah, I totally get that,” let us not grow weary in sharing our experiences with others. Several friends wrote me and shared details about their own personal experiences that were so very insightful and incredibly helpful to me. Plus, it’s just nice to know you’re not alone.

I continue to write this blog to reiterate, at the risk of being boring and repetitive, to share with you that it IS, in fact, possible to have joy when you’re going through the unimaginable. It IS, in fact, possible to NOT live in fear, even though your circumstances suggest that that is completely illogical.

The peace of Christ transcends all amount of odds and statistics. As we continue to seek His face, the joy we can claim truly defies logic. His insurmountable love overcomes reason and rational.

The only way I’m surviving this trial is, increasingly and without ceasing, to go before the Lord.

“He has shown you, O man, what is good;
And what does the Lord require of you?
But to do justly,
To love mercy,
And to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8

Grace be with you, my friends.

I want to mention again how grateful we are for the cards, gifts, food, coffee, phone calls, texts and  emails that continue to pour in. I wish I had time to respond to each of you individually, but please know that everything is received, read and appreciated. We are so blessed by you.

Justin received IV chemo today at the CHOP oncology center in Voorhees. It was really tough on him. He is still understandably very fearful as he continues to have painful and uncomfortable experiences, and it showed as soon as we entered the building.

However, the nurses and child life specialists were amazing with him. We received excellent treatment and care.

Taking care of Justin is hard work. I’m too exhausted to write anymore.

God unceasingly reveals His presence and shows me that we are covered by His hand.

Grace be with you, my friends.

The stress is taking a physical toll on me. I woke up this morning with a migraine. I am achy and itchy and just tired.

Although I am trusting God’s sovereignty over our circumstances, I am still under an amazing amount of stress just coping with the amount of care Justin requires. Turning to God for help and strength is not a daily thing.

It’s an every minute thing.

At this moment, I am sitting with Justin’s head on my lap, a dish towel thrown over my shoulder and little blobs of ketchup all over my light beige couch. (I REALLY should have chosen the “mocha” option). Anyway I could really care less about the couch, I was just giving you some visual context.

I can hear Jeff picking up where I left off with the dishes. And Justin is fine for the moment. So I have a minute to reflect on scripture that has been on my mind throughout the day.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

This scripture has become very three dimensional to me. Like I am seeing it jump off the page and take on form and substance in my life.

I trust that this trial has a purpose to the glory of Christ and, because I believe that, I can accept this trial without anger or protest. And I can attest to the grace of God, poured out during this hardship, and its undeniable sufficiency.

Turning to God for help continuously and keeping my eyes open for glimpses of His grace has been my survival. And it’s an every minute thing.

It is so good to be home.

Justin is more relaxed here at home and enjoying being with his brothers. Last night, we watched a movie then had a “camp out” in our bedroom. The boys pulled their sleeping bags in, and Michael told us a story. He recounted the story of God bringing the Israelites out of Egypt, with perfect recollection of the ten plagues in chronological order.

Justin is still struggling with being sick to his stomach as well as walking, particularly upstairs. However, being more comfortable at home with his family has improved his stress level and cooperation.

We have a long list of symptoms to look for that would indicate Justin going back to the hospital. Developing a fever or becoming very lethargic are the two biggest signs that he would need more care than we can provide at home and possibly a blood transfusion. But there are many other less critical possibilities that we have to watch for and monitor.

I was never super diligent at making my kids wash their hands. I mean, in the bathroom is a no-brainer, but I wasn’t on them constantly. We were the more laid back, “five second rule” kind of family.

Now I’m the hand washing/sanitizer police. There are several bottles stationed all over the house. And if you come for a visit, I will direct you to the nearest pump.

Obviously, we have two other kids and can’t put Justin in bubble wrap. But it’s very important for us to try to keep him from catching a cold, virus, or the flu. Any of those scenarios could put him back in the hospital.

Justin is taking oral chemo medication at home and will go to CHOP in Voorhees once a week for IV chemotherapy. The oral meds cause this wild combination of extreme hunger, weird food cravings, nausea and vomiting.

So we are either cleaning vomit or tracking down Justin’s latest food craving. Last night, he asked for a bagel with cream cheese and mustard.

I still have these very surreal moments when I realize all over again that my youngest son has cancer. Like I was folding a basket of clothes and listening to the boys argue over a video game. Everything felt entirely NORMAL. Then this thought disturbed the mundane. “My child has cancer. How did this happen?”

Well I don’t know how or why it happened. But it did. And it’s hard and complicated and messy and sad and painful and inconvenient and life-altering. But somehow it’s also good. You may think, “how can a mother say that?” Well first of all, apart from the grace of God and power of the Holy Spirit, I absolutely couldn’t. And I can say it because I believe the promise in Romans 8:28.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to his purpose.”

ALL things. And there are no exceptions, not even cancer.  Grace be with you, my friends.

I rushed Justin to the ER because he was unable to bear weight on his feet and he was burning up with fever. This was 11pm on Friday, January 15th. We have not left the hospital since.

Sunday, January 17th, we received news that has changed and will continue to change our lives. Justin was diagnosed with Leukemia. Cancer of the blood cells and bone marrow.

Today, we are going home.

Exhausted, emotionally drained and feeling apprehensive about all the details of Justin’s home care. It feels like we are brand new parents taking a newborn baby home. The packet of notes I took at the required “oncology class” is thick, and the potential complications that could arise are daunting.

But I’m not freaking out or anything. In fact, I’m very confident that God will continue to pour out His grace. I have felt the presence of God in that first trip to the ER, in the conference room receiving the diagnosis and everyday since then.

Although I have not been walking alone, I have been deep in the valley. But I feel my steps quickening as I climb to higher ground. I have reached a precipice but I am reminded that I do not stand here alone. Jesus will persist in guiding me and giving me wisdom and increased faith as we muddle through Justin’s home care and inevitably come up against situations that I cannot control. Jesus will lead me from this place of uncertain footing to a secure peak with a beautiful view.

Justin is doing well enough to go home! We will be reunited with Nicky and Michael, and able to spend time together as a family.

“Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
2 Worship the Lord with gladness;
come before him with joyful songs.
3 Know that the Lord is God.
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
give thanks to him and praise his name.
5 For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.” Psalm 100

We have received excellent care for Justin here at the oncology unit at CHOP. But I can’t say I will miss being here. Well, I may have some lingering feelings for the cafeteria noodle bowls.

Hope you will continue to pray and follow us on this next phase of Justin’s care. This is not the end by any means. In a lot of ways, it feels like just the beginning. A new journey.

Grace be with you, my friends.

I’m sitting beside Justin’s bed smelling vomit on my clothes and eating cold French fries for dinner. My back hurts from changing clothes, blankets, pull ups.

Even on IV nausea medication, Justin is still not able to keep anything down. But the steroids are making him so hungry, and I don’t have the heart to deny him food.

Over and over again, he leans his head into the basin, coughing and wretching. And I think, “Here we go again.”

So here I am in my barfy clothes and cold fries. Here I am, with my five-year-old son, walking through fire.

And this is what I think. If I cannot claim joy right here, right now, how can I claim that Jesus is the source of my joy?

I’m not talking about fleeting happiness. A day at the beach kind of thing. I’m talking about a real, steady, sustaining joy.

Somehow Jesus can and does continue to give joy even when you are face first in the mud.

“Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.” 1 Peter 1:8-9

Well I thought we might be home by now, but Justin is still unable to keep food and liquids down without the help of IV medication. The doctor has taken him off for short periods of time, but he just resumes radical vomiting.

We are stuck in a really difficult cycle. The steroid medication, which is part of chemo, is giving Justin a crazy appetite. He wants to eat constantly even though his stomach is so upset. He’s continuously asking for food.

And although we are trying to give Justin small portions at a time and limiting him to bland foods like chicken broth and crackers, he is still bringing everything right back up.

We are juggling several basins and changing clothes and blankets repeatedly. Justin is frustrated and we are upset.

Justin is very thin and weak. I really want to go home to my other boys, but I know it’s better for Justin to stay here at the hospital.

We are working with his doctors to come up with a plan that will keep the vomiting under control well enough that we can go home.

Eleven days in a hospital room. Justin is in constant discomfort. Missing my other boys very much.

I’ve been here long enough to know that the pediatric oncology floor is a grueling place. Everyone here is in the trenches. Sick, hurting babies, burnt out parents and nurses working hard to bring some relief to both.

Trying to keep trusting in the trenches.

“Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.” John 7:38

Justin woke up from anesthesia, ripped the breathing tube out of his mouth and said, “I want my bagel now.” And he got it, too.

However, we will not be going home this afternoon. He had two chemo treatments today. As a result, he is very nauseous and vomiting frequently. He’s back on fluids and IV anti-nausea medication.

We are hoping to get home in the next couple days. It really depends on him being able to hold down fluids.

Justin is walking a little more each day with help. It is still uncomfortable, but he is able to do it for short distances. He is fighting us, but we have to stay firm and continue to encourage him to walk as much as possible.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9

Weary, yes. Giving up, no.

Praying for the forbearance necessary to get through this next round of vomiting. And the resignation to avoid giving in to carrying him all the time. And the grace to make it through more time away from home and our other boys.

Thank you for continued prayers.