Rejoicing today!

This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!

I AM GLAD!  So thrilled to get to tell you that in our very brief appointment this morning, we heard "the scans look good."  I asked her to repeat it and say things. look. good. again please! Every spot is responding and shrinking.  Whether it's chemo or diet or angel armies in there, we do not care!  We know the Lord is working!  We knew it before we walked in there because of many little signs and wonders that you'll have to ask us about in person!  For now, we rejoice in good scans!

Scott is celebrating alone in a chemo round 3 chair today.  I, on the other hand, am celebrating by telling everyone who might even care a little bit.  So rejoice with me or move along if you see me telling the Price Chopper cashier or any other stranger how great and kind my God is!

Thank you for all the prayers and tears of joy shared with us today!  Please don't stop, this is far from over!  This is just the beginning of God getting glory!  And glory He deserves!!

Stay in Today

Well, things change right?  Today, we thought we would be meeting with the oncologist to discuss the CT Scott had on Monday.  I tried hard not to get ahead of myself, but my mind started to plan for what he might say.  Is the cancer responding?  Maybe a miracle has already been happening!  I wanted to plan to celebrate... my humanity also wanted to prepare for harder news.  It's an emotional roller coaster looking ahead.

Instead, about 2:00 yesterday, Scott called leaving his primary care doctor and said that we needed to go to the ER; they thought he was in a-fib.  He came and got me and drove us to our 7 hour stay in KU's emergency room, which is nothing short of a movie scene!  His heart rate has been consistently high and stayed that way while we were there, in addition to a very elevated bp.  The ER docs got us in right away and began tests on his heart.  About 10:00 we were moved into a room to stay overnight.  Instead of our awaited appointment and round 3 of chemo today, we woke to an echocardiogram, an ultrasound of the heart, and many teams of doctors from cardiology to pulmonology to internal medicine. It's been a whirlwind.

I'll tell you, this morning, I wanted to stomp my feet a bit.  I was weary and sad and nervous and wanted today to be different!  But just because we aren't celebrating the cancer's response (we just don't know it yet and will reschedule), I'm reminded that we can celebrate right now.  I have to learn time and time again apparently to stay in today.  Celebrate today.  Hope for today.  My plans are just that--mine-- and God has said over and over to stand.  That He is fighting.  That He holds the future.  Him.

So today, we choose to celebrate today!

• There is nothing wrong with Scott's heart!  Absolutely nothing.  In fact, it wasn't really in a-fib after all and his heart function is excellent!
• Being in the ER highlighted some fluid on or near one of his lungs which could be the cause of his elevated heart rate and some other mild discomfort.  We didn't know about this fluid, although it apparently has been on other scans.  Without his pcp doing an EKG and sending him to the ER, we still would not know. 
• We saw numerous doctors and groups in a 24 hour time and almost everyone asked how we really were, stopped and listened, and thoroughly evaluated Scott like he mattered! They have tested and tested everything! We are so grateful!
• People's specific prayers have been answered today regarding our care, the doctors, Scott's bp and heart rate and much more! 

Now, we sit in the hospital still to have the fluid near his lung drained.  We may even be able to go home today and sleep in our own bed!  Another reason to celebrate! 

Just Enough

I must be due for an update.  I know when I start getting questions all at once.  And not that I avoid talking about things... but sometimes when normalcy kind of creeps in, I want to lay down and roll around in it.  So I've kind of been doing that for a few days.

We are in the 3rd week of the 2nd round of chemo.  Each round is 3 weeks long and having one under our belt was helpful, but not exactly a duplicate of the next. There were more days in this last week where we could pretend to not have cancer and be normal that I've almost been holding my breath for this week.  You don't even realize the pressure...until at one point this week, I consciously quit worrying about something kid related and didn't feel relief.  I told Scott it was like someone took a grape off the pile I'm carrying and in that moment, I remembered abruptly that I am carrying a load---fears, concerns, trying to decipher what I can and can't control.... and although my faith is in the Lord and He ultimately holds it all together, I am human.

We know we are super fortunate with how these chemo weeks have gone.  Scott doesn't feel overly nauseated and has relatively few days of terrible.  We have a few concerning symptoms that we are trying to understand and manage--and if we've learned anything, it's that we have to advocate for ourselves and figure some of this out.  But we also celebrate the good days.  We are so grateful he was able to travel out of town this weekend to watch one of our kids play soccer!  He is a tough guy for sure, and we are just blessed by how His body is handling this. We haven't had as many deep, aha moments.  But instead, the encouragement and text messages trickle in at the perfect time. People still aren't forgetting us which is staggering to me.  The Lord continues to provide just enough--with people's timely words for us, unexpected visits, meals.  He knows just what we need and we see His provision daily.

This week, Monday Scott has a COVID-19 test and CT and Wednesday we will meet to discuss what they saw.  He is scheduled for Round 3 of chemo as well, although this really hasn't been discussed with the Dr. This is the week for prayer warriors!  Not that God works in our time at all...but our minds do!  We will see if and how the cancer is responding!  We will be making decisions about continued and next steps.  Please pray that we will hear from God very specifically.  We want to do what He wants and live out our part obediently.  That balance is interesting sometimes. 

Red Day #2

We are wrapping up the last week of the chemo round and it is safe to say, it has had its ups and downs.  We think we learned the rhythm of these 3 weeks and are grateful to have ended on a high note--some very "normal" days where you could almost forget about cancer. Almost.

I like to watch shows and series right now that are nothing like my life.  So naturally, a recent favorite was about a female drug lord from Mexico.  When they would go to fight another cartel, they would meet up in some warehouse and line up all their weapons, making sure they had all the ammo and people they needed to win this fight.  Maybe not spiritual, but I have likened our week to that.  We are consciously laying out our weapons, making sure we have the ammo. Gearing up for the next fight.  I've been super grateful for laughter and a 3 mile walk with my husband-that I might have taken for granted previously. 

What's a shame...or human I suppose...is that on these "normal" days, you don't rely as heavily on Scripture and what God says like you did on the hardest, most confusing days.  I should own it--I found myself not relying on Scripture the same way.  I sat down one morning, forcing myself to slow down, and re-read some of the passages God has spoken so clearly through for us--Psalm 77, Proverbs 3, Exodus 14.  

Re-reading Exodus 14 even now....I see myself in them.  Right after the Red Sea parts--like right after--they're grumbling and wondering if or how God's going to provide.  Exodus 16 spoke to my heart--God was only going to give them a day's portion.  Just enough.  And that's where I need to be.  Right in the kind of dependence where I have enough for today.  I can't see what's coming anyway!  Nothing forces dependence like cancer.  But even on the days that come with a bit less fear and anxiety, I want to still be standing firmly on the God who provides the good, who provides the joy, who I am still dependent on, even when it feels secure on my own.  All is from Him and in Him all things hold together (Colossians 1). This is me preparing the ammo, readying for battle.

Thursday Scott starts his second round of chemo.  While we aren't excited about what is to come, there is a bit of relief in at least kind of knowing what to expect.  We are still praying that whether through chemo, or His own creative means, that God is wiping this cancer from Scott's body.  Cruz, our 6 year old, has been praying on the way to school "Thank you for healing me dad".  The first time he said it, it caught me off guard. 'Man, buddy, I hope you know something I don't yet!' But after he said it a few more times, I realized we should be thanking God for what He's doing even when we can't see it all the time.  God is at work here.  We feel it.  Pray with us!  Wear red Thursday again if you'd like.  We will be wearing red-still standing on God's words and His promises to us.  Grateful that the blood of Lamb conquered sin and death and can conquer this too, however He chooses. 

How does it feel?

"What do you feel?"  I ask Scott this question in some form daily.  "What doesn't feel good?  What kind of sick?  Is it like ___?"  I'm trying so hard to understand.  I want to understand. And although we are one in so many ways, I can't feel this for him or take it away.  He says I'm not annoying him yet but he might be lying.

We are about one week from the first chemo treatment.  The first several days we wondered what, if anything, it was doing.  Then there were a few nights, late in the night, we began to feel the affects.  I say we, but really Scott is doing all the feeling.  Awful combinations of feeling like he'd been hit by a truck, pain in places that hadn't been hurting, restlessness yet so tired, led to a frustration and sadness I've yet to see.  We found ourselves in the middle of the night pleading with God for breakthrough.  During the second night up late, so tired, it felt as though we were being tortured in war. And maybe we are.  A war with the cancer and the chemo.  A war between knowing God is in control and loves us and wondering if He's left us alone to fight this thing. 

I was in a massage a friend got me recently--running late and wired so when I finally laid down, my face mushed up in that hole trying to get my heart rate to calm down, I prayed.  I was praying for Scott and the way his body was feeling before chemo.  I was asking God to give him relief, to make the bloating and frustration subside.  And then I subsequently asked God to war on the cancer.  To fight it with a vengeance.  To be wiping it out, even without medicine!  I often plead with Him, "God, I know you can!  I'm asking you to.  You tell us to ask and I'm asking!"  Very clearly I felt like God said "Lauren, you can't have it both ways.  If I'm warring inside of Scott's body, he isn't going to feel peachy.  It's war."  And in a strange way, I calmed and said "OK".  If that's what it takes God, I'll take the war.  Now Scott may not like this dialogue about how his body is going to feel that he was not a part of.  But he has reminded me numerous times, "Lauren, we can't have it both ways".  So we're trying so hard to be okay with side effects and hard days, pleading with God to be warring against the cancer!

God's mercies really are new every morning and yesterday was a new day.  Scott's color came back during the day.  At one point, he lifted up his pant leg to show me his ankle and was so excited it looked like him!  We celebrated that small thing with fist bumps and his smile.  Maybe it isn't such a little thing. Maybe his body is functioning more normally.  Maybe it's just a tiny reminder that God is working.  That something is happening in there! 

We don't know much more.  He gets blood work regularly to see how his body is handling treatment.  And he should go for another "round" in a couple weeks.  My friend sent me these song lyrics today, when I confessed how alone this season can feel.  

'What was true in the light is still true in the dark.  That you're good and you're kind and you care for this heart'

Oh how I need those reminders.  

Thanks for the Sea of Red

Overwhelmed is a word I've said and felt so much today.  Driving to KU Med, knowing I'd be leaving my husband there alone for chemo treatment felt heavy and sad.  But it was matched simultaneously with texts of Scripture and encouragement.  Texts telling me to close my eyes and imagine all of you in red in our yard.  Families telling us they're fighting with us.  Pictures of families and coworkers in red spilled in.  I could have cried in sadness and frustration in one minute as Scott walked in alone and I couldn't go--and with overwhelming love and gratitude in another. 

We felt so loved and covered today.  We felt your prayers like a blanket.  People that haven't met us in cases were wearing red and thinking of us today.  God's people came together with one voice, asking for miracles for Scott. 

We just want to say thank you.  I am asking God for our unified voices to be heard.  I know he doesn't need my brilliant ideas but He tells us to ask, so we are asking.  Heal Scott, God.  Do what only you can do.

Scott feels really good today.  We are realistic and know that could change in the next few days and we are trying to be prepared to be flexible as needed.  But for now, he's okay.  Praying that chemo flowing through him is gobbled up by the cancer and the cancer is beat!  Praying God is glorified by our every step.  

Red

After waiting another week for the molecular breakdown, Monday we were getting antsy.  We were told the report was done, but no data yet.  Scott was nervous that today, the Tuesday before the scheduled drug therapy, would be another day of unknowns and we would have to decide if we wanted to move forward without the molecular breakdown again.  He woke up struggling--swollen and irritated that he just doesn't feel quite like himself.  Wondering if it's cancer or radiation, blood pressure meds or his recent change of diet that's making him feel this way.  It was God's kindness that we received the message before 10am--although not necessarily what we wanted--that the molecular breakdown didn't show a mutation that we could target and that chemo was our option.  Scott will do 7 hours of infusions tomorrow.

Discouragement can be a hard, heavy thing.  We fight it.  Often times with gratefulness, listing what we see God doing, even if it seems foggy.  One day this week, a friend from church sent a text on a hard morning.  Scott saw her name and plead with God to please make these words from Him.  The picture came with it below.  "This is what the Lord says to you".  Ok God, you got our attention.  We focused on the red words that day.  Do not be afraid or discouraged.  The battle is not yours.  Stand firm.  See.  Go.  The Lord will be with you.  Those words were life that morning, followed by numerous other texts that were a tangible reminder that God hasn't left us and loves us so personally. 

Today when it seemed heavy again, Scott went back to that picture.  He stood firmly on the red words.  In the text he sent me, inadvertently letting me know he was okay and his affect was improving,  he wrote "red".  I knew he wanted me to read the boxed in red words.  Then I remembered the PET scan from Mayo.  One of the doctors that we grew to trust pointed out how red Scott's spots were because they had drank up all the glucose.  The hope is that they will drink up the chemo like that.  So I reminded him of that red.  In a strange train of thought, we then we remembered this text from another dear friend-"While it is true that cancer is in you-it does not, it cannot overshadow the resurrection power-the Mighty power of Jesus that flows through your veins.".  Red like blood.  Like Jesus' resurrected blood that lives in us.  So we agreed we are wearing red tomorrow-Scott's first 7 hour day of chemo.  Victorious red.  Because our Jesus and His words always win!  Join us if you'd like.  Pray for him.  We feel it and need it daily! 

Change of plans

 A practical update of sorts--Scott is not going to be starting drug therapy tomorrow as planned.  The Monday before last when we met with the oncologist, the plans for this week were made, still contingent on the results of a molecular breakdown from the last biopsy.  We were assured that those results would be back before the day of scheduled treatment--so that if we were given a more targeted drug approach, we would get that started instead of chemo.  As of today, those results were still not in so we suppose that it was assumed we would just start the 7 hour infusion of general chemo tomorrow. 

That just didn't sit well.  We have waited 4 additional weeks because the importance of the molecular breakdown had been emphasized.  And I could get into the nitty gritty of what these few days of waiting looks like for us.....of the warfare that comes, the confusion and fight to try to push for answers or just show up to the infusions without asking a question.  But this is a blog, not a therapy session. There's a strange tightrope we walk between taking action, advocating and fighting with the healthcare community and for Scott.....and just trusting because we know God is ultimately in charge here. 

Today, Scott decided to just trust.  He felt strongly that God had been in conversations recently about waiting for the molecular breakdown.  So as today went on, he felt like moving toward chemo tomorrow and "burning the house down" so to speak was premature.  We agonize over these decisions sometimes...but we called on some of our army to pray as we struggled.  And I believe Scott's peace he has in deciding to wait for the molecular breakdown before starting treatment is both the peace that comes from listening to the Lord and from many holding up our arms.   There's a whole lot of other jumbled up thoughts and emotions wrapped up in there...but that's basically it.  We are scheduled for treatment now September 2nd and expect to have the molecular breakdown before that. 

My mom shared a verse with me today, as she was squaring me up in a hard moment.  Romans 15:13 says: 

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope."  

It's super meaty.  Fill you--in believing--power of the Holy Spirit, abound in hope.  In a margin of my Bible there, I have written hope: confident trust; expectation.  We do not know what God will do.  We don't know if we will be privy to the reason or purpose for all this waiting.  But we confidently trust with expectation that our God is up to something.  The Enemy scares us into believing that God doesn't have our best interest-that He's forgotten us-that He isn't active.  But we are waiting with expectation to be filled up in believing--while believing with all our weight-that God is here with us! That we are not forgotten.  And I am so grateful for today where Scott heard from the Lord and feels confident in that-even if it just gets us through to one more day.  

This is hard.  We have some raw, vulnerable moments that aren't pretty.  But today I pictured the people who were praying for us, just those praying today even, gathered in our backyard and I was so humbled, it choked me up.  We are very blessed and extremely covered.  Please don't stop. 

Drug Therapy-Next Steps

 Being honest, I don't want to write.  And it's not because I have anything hard or bad to say....I guess sometimes not talking about things can feel almost temporarily normal.  

Scott had a follow up appointment yesterday with the medical oncologist we're working with at KU.  We were expecting the molecular breakdown to be back so we could know if a targeted drug treatment plan was an option.  It's not back yet.  No one seems to feel quite as impatient about that as I do.  They say it's normal and we should have that this week.  The hard part is what we call having eaten the apple--we've seen the scans.  You can't unsee it.  And no matter how hard we play mental gymnastics, you have to wonder what that cancer is doing in there!  We want it gone!  

So the plan right now is tentative...Scott is scheduled to start a combo chemotherapy next Wednesday.  He will get infusions for 7 straight hours, just one day, and repeat 3 weeks later.  It's a more standard, stereotypical chemo--may be nauseated, fatigued, lose his hair, etc.  This is the plan IF the molecular breakdown says that a targeted approach wouldn't be better.  IF it shows that there's a targeted approach, we will begin that next week.  Either way, we have a plan. 

That should all feel good and productive.  And in a way it does.  I guess I just remembered yesterday that Scott has cancer.  I know...duh.  But man, it's a mental, emotional, physical fight every single day to ward off the Enemy...to fight the thoughts and fears.  And sometimes you are able to coast for just a few days, or even a week and feel like Scott and Lauren.  But yesterday, my guard came down a bit and I felt human and vulnerable.   Like I was cheerleading and jumping up and down to a crowd in bleachers full of scientists and serious faces that made no expression.  It's exhausting!  And I kind of broke down.  I'm sad that Scott has to go through this.  I'm anxious about the future.  I'm unsure of what God is going to do.  And you wonder in moments of humanity if He's working-if He's moving.  Are you putting a tsunami in there God?  Are you hearing the prayers of a 6 year old and sweeping it out like dust?  

But again, when there's much I don't know....there are things I do know.  I know that God has been active in parts of every day.  We have seen His love and presence in some great Spirit filled conversations with our kids.  We see Him not forgetting us when our friends, who have lives and kids, still text and pray with Spirit-led words and Scripture.  I hear Him in worship songs.  I see Him in Scott-when I wonder how this is a loving story and God gently reminds me that the way Scott loves me is God in Him.  And I just cry singing "He is jealous for me....I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way...He loves us".  I know our God doesn't sleep--and he's not asleep on the job here.  And I feel immature and faithless that I rely on the reminders of that every day.  But like a friend reminded me today, God isn't looking for spiritual giants and theologians.  He is looking for us to walk with Him.  To lean into Him.  To dwell with Him.  So here I am, dwelling.  Pressing in, when I want to pull back.  Because I know that no matter what I don't know...that He is still on the throne and He is still with me.  Just those 2 things together are mind blowing.  The God of the Universe is with me.  Wow.  Hang out there today.  

Radiation and the wait

My silence must be making people nervous-as my phone has blown up the last 24 hours with requests to know what's going on!  Sorry 'bout that.

Scott is finishing up his 5 days of radiation on one spot this morning, as we speak! He really hasn't felt any side effects and was told yesterday, he is pretty much restriction free after today!  They didn't recommend riding a dirt bike, but that was about it! 

We have kind of settled into a rhythm of wait the last week or so.  Radiation was a good box to check.  We have an appointment in a couple weeks with the oncologist that will be the one that decides what type of drug therapy (chemo, immunotherapy, some cocktail combo) is best for this type of cancer and it's molecular breakdown.  Scott goes to work and I'm selling houses and we almost seem normal.  Whatever that means!

Waiting is probably not one of my spiritual gifts.  We fight each day to only look at today-not out to the next week or months.  Even this morning, I found myself thinking 'I feel so powerless' and quickly I felt God whisper "You are.  Apart from me, you have no power."  But then He quickly reminded me that the same power that conquered the grave lives in me!  In me! And like a great friend texted us recently, cancer may be in Scott's body, but the resurrection power of Jesus runs through his veins!  We continue to pray boldly that God is working in the wait.  That He is containing this cancer and working miracles already! Cruz, our 6 year old, prays that God is wiping it out like a tsunami through Scott's body.  It's a good visual and sweetest prayer.  

We continue to walk every night, recounting God's deeds as we go.  Sometimes through gritted teeth on a rough work day, but we can always find ways that God is present and loving us.  It's a practice we don't want to ever stop. And we hang on and depend on Scripture like we never have before.   I have never really understood "daily bread" like I do now.  Maybe because I've never been physically hungry, maybe because I've never been truly dependent for any length of time.  All of a sudden, God's Word each day is truly food.  It keeps my fear and doubt out of the driver's seat and points my face toward the only One who holds all things together.  Sometimes I can almost feel Him lift my chin toward Him.  We ask that you continue to pray boldly and wait and fight along side us.  

Walking to the water

A little update--fact and fluff.
We saw the radiation oncologist Friday and so far, he's Scott's favorite.  We go Monday for Scott's first tattoo (marking the spot with dots) and he will begin radiation mid week.  We are energized with taking action!  Radiation will pair with the drug therapy that the molecular breakdown tells them to use to attack.  Another biopsy is to come and we will wait for more direction beyond radiation.

We fight daily to stand on what God is saying to us RIGHT NOW.  Because sometimes in the wait, there's too much time for other voices. The enemy waits at my bedside ready to read to me from his long list of lies each morning, and I have to wake up with my sword and armor or anxiety rules and I want to cover my head and evaporate. 

Sometimes I fight the fear that the future and God's blessings are left dependent on my amount of faith.  Like if I get scared or sad, God will withhold.  Then God will faithfully remind me of His Word and stories flash in place of the lies.  I think about the Israelites wandering in the wilderness and up to the Red Sea.  You know not a one of them had imagined some creative way the story would go as they approached! Instead they were moaning and wailing about how God had brought them all that way just to let them die.  God told them stand firm and see the salvation of the Lord work for you today!  He told Moses to tell them to go forward!  They couldn't lay around in the fetal position, wondering if the Lord would act.  They had to walk toward the water!  The object of their impending doom.  Watch the Lord work for you today.  God's action was not dependent on how much the Israelites could predict what God might do.  It was in the unlimited power of their God.  They just had to walk to the water.

And that's where we are.  We are walking toward the water.  We don't know what the plan is.  We don't have clear direction.  My personality would love a road map with colored tabs and clarity.  But if you ask me who is in charge of my life, I say the Lord is.  Not Lauren and her map.  Now it's just putting my money where my mouth is.  If I believe that God is that same God that parted that sea, then I have to close my eyes, take His hand, and approach the water! 

Come to the water with us!  Ask God to part seas!  Ask Him to make Himself known in all the steps!  Your texts, messages, drop by's, shopping, phone calls....it means more than you know.  We recount almost daily, the ways we see God in our midst, and so often it is in the way people are loving us.  Know that it is seen and felt.