Some good news

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/to-your-health/wp/2015/12/02/for-multiple-myeloma-community-a-november-to-remember/

Exciting.  Keep praying for myeloma researchers and that God would allow them to discover a cure!

-b

Day 30!

It has been 30 days since my transplant, and that means ... I'm FREE!  A bunch of restrictions get lifted today.  I'm able to leave the house without a mask (though I still have to wear it in hospital settings), and I no longer have to follow my low microbial diet (though I have to avoid raw meat/fish for another month).

I feel like I should be more introspective on the process, but at the moment I'm just grateful for my health and for being able to enjoy some independence.  I'm grateful for the prayers of friends and family and the love of my wife who took care of me.  More than anything, I'm grateful for God's sustaining grace.

I guess it's time to start trying to get back into a work mindset.  I'm excited, but I'm extremely nervous since I've been out for so long.  The plan is to go back on 12/7, pending confirmation from my doctor that that's a good idea.

-b

Post-Transplant Day 16

Today is another momentous day.  I had my last appointment at the Stanford ITA (Infusion Treatment Area)!  My white blood cell count is 4.9 K/uL (the normal range is 4 - 11).  My platelets were also high enough where they're confident I won't need a blood transfusion, so they removed my central venous catheter.  This means no more covering myself in saran wrap before showering, no more flushing the lines every night and changing the dressing every week, and it means I can finally go back to sleeping on my stomach.  :)

I have a follow-up appointment after Day 30 with my Bone Marrow Transplant doctor.  He'll review everything and ultimately see whether I'm fit to go back to work.

In the meantime, I'm still on my strict low microbial diet, and I still can't leave the house without my mask, but praise God for getting me through thus far.  I'm feeling pretty strong, though still tired from time to time.  I'm eager to go back to work, but I'm going to spend the time I have off focusing on recovery.

Thanks for the continued prayers!

I've engrafted!

My stem cells have engrafted.  Praise God!  This means I'm no longer neutropenic (when you don't have enough stem cells to fight off infection).  As a result, they disconnected me from the fanny pack of hydration that I had to carry around everyone.  Additionally, I no longer have daily trips to Stanford.  My next appointment is on Wednesday where they will remove my catheter if my platelets are high enough.  

They say that while I have a functional immune system, it's very young, like a baby's.  I'm still on the low microbial diet for another ~20 days, but it should mean that the worst of things is over.

God is good!

Post Transplant Day 9

Just a quick update - I'm still neutropenic, meaning I'm still at risk of not being able to fight off infections.  My white blood cell counts turned up today though, so hopefully in the next few days I'll be on the mends.  They also said that next week I might be able to switch to MWF appointments instead of daily appointments.  Fingers crossed!

Healthwise I still feel pretty good.  The sores on my head are getting better, and my stomach - while still unsettled - isn't causing me intense pain.  Praise God!

Day 5 Post Transplant

Hi friends,

I know many of you have been wondering how the transplant has gone.  Sorry for the lack of posting; I can't seem to concentrate on anything for too long, and writing down thoughts seemed to be a laborious task.

To recap:

• Last week I spent a night in the hospital for BCNU chemo treatment.  I had my own room in the hospital, which was awesome.  My buddy, Jon, also visited me as his mom was getting treated at Stanford that same day.  The treatment itself wasn't too bad.  I was a little light headed, but it was pretty uneventful.  The hardest part was not being able to sleep well.  Oh, and there was the awkward part of having two nurses inspect my whole body for skin issues.
• A couple of days later, I came in for Melphalan (mustard gas) chemo treatment.  For that treatment, they had me sucking on ice while the medicine was being infused.  Apparently it limits blood going into the mouth which means the medicine doesn't collect there.  Melphalan is known to cause mouth sores, so the ice aims to reduce the mouth pain I'll be in in the days to come.
• This past Monday, I had my transplant.  The transplant itself was pretty anticlimactic.  They gave me some premeds (benadryl) to make sure I didn't have an allergic reaction to the preservative.  They then thawed my collected stem cells and sent it through my catheter.  They gave me mints to suck on because apparently the preservative tastes and smells of creamed corn.  (Jenn and I didn't notice, but nurses that walked by kept commenting on it.)

So what's happening now?  I'm waiting for my white blood cells / red blood cells / platelets to bottom out (reach zero).  Usually at that point, the stem cells we re-infused will engraft and those numbers will recover.  I'm told I'll feel progressively worse as those numbers go down to zero.

I know people wonder how I'm feeling.  Let me say off the bat that I'm doing really well and God has been answering prayers.  The nurses are really impressed with how well I'm doing.  I thank God for sustaining me thus far.  With all that being said, there have been side effects I'm dealing with.  I'll list them below, but know that I'm not complaining or suffering terribly.  Of note, I haven't had to deal with nausea/vomiting so far - praise God!

In increasing order of annoyance:

• Frequent urination (they hook me up to hydration fluids until my stem cells engraft.  I also drink a lot to preserve kidney function.)
• Light-headedness / tiredness (I feel a bit of the tiredness/fatigue I'm told to expect, but so far it hasn't been overwhelming.  Oddly, urinating is something that makes me tired / short of breath.  Still, I'm able to take daily walks, which I'm grateful for.)
• Decreased appetite / weight loss (I've lost roughly ten pounds over the past week or so, but the number isn't as bad as it seems.  At my peak, I had several pounds of water weight as they were loading me up with four liters of liquid a day.  I had also been trying to put on weight before the transplant knowing I'd lose some.  All that being said, I'm a couple of pounds below my average weight, which isn't terrible.  The appetite comes and goes, but I have some Ensure to help with the nutrition when I'm not hungry.)
• Mental cloudiness (I can't seem to concentrate on anything for too long.  I have to read the same paragraph multiple times to figure out what something is saying)
• Skin issues (I'm having some skin issues - a rash behind my ear, some acne popping up, a rash on my head.  These are all expected to clear up as my white blood cells rebound.  Still, I do look pretty gross right now.)
• Stomach pain (to date, the stomach pains have been the worst part of the transplant process.  My doctors think it's acid reflux, and yesterday they prescribed some additional medication which should help control it.  The pain luckily doesn't last very long, but it's often 10-15 minutes of really intense pain.  It seems to happen in the early mornings and sometimes after eating.)

Anyway, my apologies again for the infrequent updates, but I'm still alive and kicking.  I haven't been able to binge read/watch/play anything in particular, but I'm still grateful for that health that I currently enjoy.  Jenn has also been amazing in faithfully driving me to Stanford every day (the drive home from Stanford has been taking 1.5 hours every day). I'm also grateful for all the prayers, emails, texts, and thoughts being sent my way.  

Melphalan done!

The Melphalan (mustard gas) was pretty uneventful.  I had suck on ice chips for an hour which will hopefully prevent mouth sores.  Michelle from my church mixed the drugs (she does oncology pharmacy at Stanford), so it was nice seeing a friendly face.  It looks like we're still on track for transplant on Monday.  Praise God for everything going so smoothly so far.

Discharged!

So yesterday's overnight stay at Stanford was pretty uneventful.  I got admitted at 2 in the afternoon.  They put me on hydration fluids for four hours to make sure the BCNU drug would constantly be flushed from my system via frequent urination.  At around 10pm they started the BCNU drug.  Praise God, I didn't feel any of the facial pain / intense headaches they described.  Rather, it felt more like a warm buzz / fogginess similar to how I feel after drinking wine.

Sleeping at the hospital is a bit challenging.  The nurses came in every couple of hours to check my vitals.  At 4am, the fire alarms went off for 10 minutes.  I also didn't know how to turn off the lights in the room, but I asked the nurse at 5am when she checked in on me.  Apparently the room was also set to 60 degrees, and I didn't know I could request to turn it up.  It wasn't until a new nurse came in shivering did the thermostat get adjusted.  It wasn't all bad though; I had my own room which was a huge blessing.  Also, my buddy Jon visited as his mom had an appointment at Stanford at the same time.

Anyway, they sent me home with the rolling backpack filled with 4 liters of hydration fluids.  They'll be sending roughly four liters of fluid through my body for the next three days or so.  I can't wait to see how much water weight I put on.  :)

Tomorrow I'll be doing the Melphalan drug.  It should be a two hour infusion which most people tolerate pretty well.  However, several days after the Melphalan, I should feel like I've "been hit by a truck", according to my nurse.  We'll see how it goes.

Today's nurse again said I'm an extreme case of handling treatment really well.  I told her I felt totally normal this morning and that I could probably go for a jog if I wanted.  She said that most people are pretty run down after the BCNU.  I think this is a huge answer to everyone's prayers, so thanks for faithfully upholding me.  Keep 'em coming.  :)

-b

Last day of freedom

Hello, friends!  I went to Stanford on Monday for an xray, blood test, and a meeting with my doctor / nurse coordinator.  Praise God, the x-ray and blood tests all look good.  The doctor and nurse talked me through what would come next.  I'll be going for an overnight stay at the Stanford hospital on Thursday for BCNU treatment.  They want me overnight there because it can sometimes cause severe pain, especially in the head/face.  It only lasts while the treatment is going on (3-4 hours), but they want you at the hospital so they can administer pain meds if necessary.  The next day I'll be discharged with a rolling backpack full of IV fluids which I'll have to keep with me for the next day or two.  On Saturday I go into the hospital for Melphalan (a derivative of mustard gas).  Apparently that medication is usually handled well, but they'll have me suck on ice to prevent (or minimize) mouth sores.  If all goes well, I'm still on track for my transplant on Monday!

So, tomorrow marks my last day of freedom before the health precautions kick in.  I'm grateful for these past two weeks of being able to go outside, eat out, run errands, visit friends ... it will definitely be challenging not being able to have the windows open, not being able to eat out, having to wear a mask whenever I go outside.  Still, God has been incredibly gracious to me.  I'm thankful that I'll get to be at home while recovering from the transplant instead of at the hospital.  I'm grateful that Jenn has gotten to take time off  to be my caretaker.  I'm blessed that Google has an awesome short term medical leave policy.

Onward!

-b

Thank you!

Someone bought me a beanie, but I'm not sure who (there wasn't an invoice / note).  If it was you, my bald head and I thank you!

It's begun ...

The hair is falling out, haha.  It's not too noticeable yet, but this is what I see whenever I run my fingers through my hair.

Once my hair gets patchy, I'll shave it off.  I'm not worried about shaving my head, but I do know I don't have the head shape to pull it off well.  Sadly, I don't think I can pull off hats either.  We'll see.  ;)

-b

Lots of stem cells

Praise God, it turns out they were able to collect stem cells today.  More than that, they collected a super abundance of stem cells!  They were looking to collect 4 (not sure what unit) of stem cells, but they collected 13.4!  Praise God.  This means I don't have to go back later this week for follow-up collections.

I guess I just wait now to find out when the next rounds of chemo are and the actual transplant.  I should find out sometime this week.  In the meantime, I'm going to celebrate a few days of freedom!

-b

Huzzah!

So my white blood cell count jumped from .6 yesterday to 4-point-something today.  This means a few things:

• I no longer have to follow the low-microbial diet (until the chemo before the transplant).  Woohoo!
• I can go outside (though I have to wear a mask in crowded places).  Woohoo!
• I don't have to take antibiotics anymore (until after the transplant).  Woohoo!
• I can go to Stanford tomorrow where they'll actually determine if I have enough stem cells to begin collection.  If I do, they'll do a collection tomorrow and for subsequent days until they've collected enough.

Praise God!

Waiting

So I'm waiting for my white blood cell count to go up to 3.  Apparently it crashes to near zero before bouncing back up.  Once it goes up to about 3 or so, they think you have enough stem cells for collection.

My bones started hurting today.  Apparently that's a sign that the drugs are working (the bone marrow produces so many stem cells that it starts leeching into the blood, causing the pain).  It's not very fun, but tylenol seems to be helping!

-b

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. -Psalm 139:13-16

As an emo teen full of angst, I remember clinging to the words often repeated by youth group leaders and Sunday school teachers.  "You are fearfully and wonderfully made."  

There were a lot of things I didn't like about myself; I was always the shortest one in the room, I had really bad skin, I was never very athletic, and the list went on and on.  Intellectually, I knew that God had planned out exactly how I would be from before time began.  I knew in my head that God didn't make mistakes, and yet there were countless tears shed wishing that I could be just a little taller, just a little more outgoing, just a little different.

I don't know when I finally came to accept the man that God has made me to be, but I do know that eventually I had to concede that God is omniscient and makes no mistakes.  He has given me exactly what I need to fulfill His good purposes for me.

This is true of my cancer as well.  When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I constantly questioned why I was 'defective'.  For the past several years, I strove to live a healthy, active life, so it was a bit hard to accept that I had cancer.  And yet, even with cancer I know that the words of Psalm 139:13-16 are true.  I am wonderfully and fearfully made, cancer and all.  I don't fully know how God is using this cancer for His purposes, but I will continue to cling to the fact that He is a good and wonderful Creator.

Purpose

"The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord , endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands." Psalm 138:8

When I go to see my Bone Marrow Transplant Doctor at Stanford, I'm always asked to fill out a questionnaire beforehand.  The questions range are general ones about my current health and mental state.  One question always stands out though.  I'm asked to rate how true the following statement is both before my diagnosis and today: My life is meaningful and full of purpose.

It's an interesting question, and I know why they need to ask it.  Cancer seems to put the brakes on any sort of plans you had for your life.  Prior to my diagnosis, Jenn and I were going down the road of adoption.  I felt that my purpose at that time was to put all my time and energy into that process as we prepared to start a family.

After the shock of the cancer diagnosis wore off, I did go through periods of questioning what my purpose now was.  Since the adoption process had to be on hold, my life did feel a bit empty.  I thank God that He didn't allow me to sit in that pit of despair for too long, especially since so many people struggle with this lack of purpose, as the Stanford questionnaire would indicate.

Over the past few months, God has been reminding me of His purposes for me.  There are the obvious purposes that haven't changed with the diagnosis - He desires that I be a loving husband, a productive member of my local church, and a good steward of all the good gifts and responsibilities He's entrusted me with.  Furthermore, God's purpose is for me to mature and to become more like Christ (Phil 1:6).  Through my journey with cancer, He is fulfilling those purposes to strengthen my faith and produce perseverance (James 1:2-4)

There are, however, purposes that God has for me that are not immediately obvious.  Words that He would have me say at an opportune time, people He would have me meet, things He would have me do.  I don't fully know what God's purpose for me is, but I found comfort in reading Psalm 138:8 today.  God will fulfill all His purposes for me.  This means that God will leave me here on earth until everything He has wanted me to do has been fulfilled.

How comforting to know that when my life on earth is done, God will have kept his promise to fulfill all of His purposes for me.  How humbling it is to be used by the King of Kings for His good purposes.

No more IV!

I have to say that carrying around a rolling backpack full of fluids has been the hardest part of the past few days.  The thing is just unwieldy, not to mention you also have to keep it plugged in so the battery doesn't die.  This makes it challenging to use the restroom at night as you have to reorient yourself, unplug the backpack, wheel the thing around obstacles to do your business, and then fumble around again to try to plug the thing in the dark while not electrocuting yourself.

Anyway, today I turned in the backpack!  I put on ten pounds of water weight in two days.  (And it's definitely all water weight since I ate pretty much nothing due to the nausea.)  I feel pretty bloated.  :)

Praise God I'm feeling my appetite pick back up, and I think the anti-nausea meds are working.  All in all, it's been a good day!

-b

Chemo update

Wow, so chemo knocked me out yesterday.  I was pretty dizzy and nauseous, but praise God I didn't vomit.  I only ate a brownie and a slice of pizza yesterday due to the nausea, but I'm feeling much better this morning!  The nurses said I ended the session in much better shape than most patients, so I'm grateful for that.

I'm also super grateful that I'll get to turn in my iv pump today.  It's been a pain wheeling that around everywhere, especially at night when the fluids make me use the restroom every hour.  :)

Thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement!

-b

It's happening!

Hello, friends!  I know I had promised to write more, but I never seem to find the will to sit down and post.  Here are some scattered updates.  Hopefully future posts will be more organized!

• It all begins tomorrow!  Tomorrow I go in to get my chest catheter installed.
• I took a catheter care class yesterday.  It sounds like the dressing gets bloody for the first week.  I'm not looking forward to that; blood (including my own) makes me squeamish.  Luckily, Jenn will be the one to change the dressing.  :)
• I'm a little worried about cleaning the catheter because if you forget to clamp it, it sounds like blood will pour out like a faucet.  Oy.
• Speaking of the catheter, I didn't realize how bulky they are.  (See the below image).  I'm a little worried about how I'll sleep since I often sleep on my chest.  That will take some getting used to.  I'm also worried about it getting snagged and pulling on the stitches.  I guess I won't be doing anything too physically strenuous, so it shouldn't be an issue.

• You're also not supposed to get your catheter wet (they're concerned about mold growing on it).  Surprisingly, they recommend Glad Press'n Seal wrap that you can use to cover it when you shower.  Who knew?
• Tomorrow they'll also hook me up to a portable IV.  They need me hydrated because the chemo the following day can irritate your bladder, so they want you flushing frequently.  When I go in for chemo, they'll also give me some drugs that will make me have to urinate every ten minutes.  Oh boy.  :)
• Tomorrow is also my last day before health precautions go into effect (no eating out, no going into public without my hepa filter mask, no leaving the windows open in the house, no gardening, eating only a low microbial diet, etc.)
• I happened to check my work email yesterday.  Apparently my group has been re-orged, and I now have a new manager.  It should be really interesting when I get back to work!

People ask me if I'm ready for everything.  Hrm.  I feel ready, but I'm also worried that I haven't given this enough thought.  Perhaps that's the grace of God though so I don't worry.  After going through the various preparatory classes, there are lots of potential side effects from all of the drugs and various procedures.  I won't list all those now, but it would be easy to look at all those things and despair.  I'm grateful though that God is the all-knowing Creator who knows my body inside and out.  He's in control, and I have no need to worry.

Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 

He gives power to the faint,

    and to him who has no might he increases strength.

30 

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

    and young men shall fall exhausted;

31 

but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

they shall run and not be weary;

    they shall walk and not faint.

-Isaiah 40:28-31

Things are happening

Hi friends,

Sorry for the lapse in posting again, but I hope to post more regularly as there's more going on.  At a high level, I finished my 6th round of chemo, and I showed a good enough response to the treatment such that they recommended moving forward with my autologous stem cell transplant.  Praise God for Google - I started my 3-month short-term medical leave this week.

Next week, I'll be getting a chest catheter placed, will have a round of chemo, and will start injecting myself with drugs to stimulate stem cell production.  The injections will continue for a couple of weeks before the levels are high enough for a collection.  From there, I'll have hardcore chemo (Melphalan) before they give me my collected stem cells back to rescue my immune system.

Sounds pretty simple, though I'll be immuno-compromised for much of the time, so I'll be spending most of my days at home.

Anyway, I hope to post more in the days to come.  In the meantime, I'm grateful for many things:

• I have this week to enjoy my health/freedom.
• Jenn and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary this past Friday!
• My coworkers gave me a care package with dinosaur stickers, a dinosaur puzzles, and various things to do while I'm home or at various appointments at Stanford.
• Many people have offered to take me to appointments and/or stay with me since I'll need a 24/7 caretaker for much of the time.  I feel very blessed.
• I got to hang out with a bunch of my high school friends and their kiddos.
• I got a note from my insurance provider saying I was paying much less for my chemo drugs than I should have been.  Since it was their error though, they said they wouldn't bill me for the past six months, but that I would be paying the correct amount going forward.  The nice thing is that I should hopefully be done with the oral chemo for a while, so praise God for His provision even through the clerical error!

More soon!

-b

Prayers of Children

A couple of Jenn and I's best friends from Berkeley live in Vallejo now, so we don't get to see them or their three kids very often.  I got an email from them this morning saying that their family prays for me constantly.  I was told that their oldest (he's four) had this to say during family prayer time: 

“wait, i have one more thing to pray for.  Father God, thank you for bryan and thank you we got to meet him once.  i pray he wouldn’t have cancer and that he would feel better.  in Jesus’ name, amen”

So cute.  Thank you, God, for all those that continue to lift me up in prayer.

Transplant!

I met with Stanford's Bone Marrow Transplant team last week, and they recommend I move forward with an autologous transplant in September.  Here are some takeaways from the meeting:

• I don't need to make a hard decision.
  They are recommending I do a stem cell transplant using my own harvested stem cells.  They say that my case is pretty straightforward and they think the auto transplant is the only real choice to consider right now.  I was worried they'd recommend I go the allogeneic transplant route using stem cells from a donor.  That procedure has an extremely high risk of complications, so I'm glad I don't have to make that decision at this point.  They said I could consider an allogeneic stem cell transplant down the road, so getting an autologous stem cell transplant now doesn't close any doors.
  
• Offering me a stem cell transplant now is a good sign.
  The reason why the autologous stem cell transplant is the obvious recommendation at this point is because I'm healthy, still really early stage in the cancer (no kidney/bone damage, barely any anemia), and responding well to treatment.
  
• The transplant itself doesn't seem too terrible.
  There will be appointments and tests in the six weeks leading up to the transplant date.  At some point during that six week period, they'll give me drugs to cause my body to produce a large amount of stem cells.  They will eventually harvest those stem cells before nuking my body hard to try to eradicate any remaining trace of the cancer.  They then give me back my harvested stem cells to rebuild and restore my immune system.
  
  The procedure will be out-patient, and I'll only need to spend one night in the hospital (the day after the transplant itself).  I'll be immuno-compromised at various points in time, so I'll need to stay in except when being transported for regular doctor visits.  They'll provide a mask for me to wear.  I'll need a caretaker for at least the first 30-days after the transplant, but they say it's more for things like food-preparation and driving me to appointments; I should be able to do most things myself (though I'll be very fatigued).
  
  I'll probably need to miss 2 months of work at minimum, but probably closer to around 3 months.  Praise God that Google gives up to 90 days of fully paid medical leave though, and if I need more than that, I can still get partial pay.  What a blessing!
  
• In the meantime, I should finish up two more cycles of chemo.
  Last Friday I started my fifth 28-day cycle of chemo.  I aim to wrap up my sixth cycle of chemo at the end of August so we can move forward with the transplant.  

Anyway, I'm sure I'll get more details in the weeks to come.  For now, I'm actually a little excited about the transplant.  I'm sure the physical effects won't be fun, but the whole procedure sounds fascinating.  I'm also looking forward to getting as much of the cancer wiped out from my body as possible.

Things that I'm looking forward to:

• I want to dye my hair before shaving it off.  I'll probably have my hair a different color for a week or so before they need me to shave it.  There's probably no better time for a change.  :)
• I will get a port installed in my chest for the chemo.  A kid at our church, Jon, has been going through chemo and has a port.  We'll get to be twins!  It's also pretty cool having a hole sticking out of your chest.  I'm sure I can gross a few people out with that, which should be pretty funny.
• Recovery time.  I've been working while on chemo, and while I can handle things physically and mentally, it's still a bit wearying to do both.  It will be nice to shut off work for a bit and focus on recovery.  Not to mention the nurse told me to stock up on books, movies, and video games since I won't be able to be too active during the first few weeks of recovery.  

Chemo Brain

So I think I've found my first chemo-related symptom, Chemo Brain!  Over the past couple of weeks, I found myself struggling over finding the right word, and it's been a little frustrating.  It hasn't been anything major though; I'll just be having a conversation and there's a word I'm trying to come up with (not a big or complicated one), but I won't be able to come up with it and will just get stuck there.  Apparently it's a pretty common side effect of chemo.  It sounds like it goes away over time, which is good.

I have an initial consultation with the Stanford Bone Marrow Transplant team tomorrow.  We'll see what I find out!

Thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement.  :)

-b

We Can't All Be The Hero

The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will let you hear my words.” So I went down to the potter's house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter's hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do. 

-Jeremiah 18:3-4

I had the pleasure of meeting with our church's newest associate pastor for coffee.  (Funny enough, I've actually known him since 2006, so I've probably known him the longest of anyone at our church.)

He's been great at checking in on how Jenn and I are doing with my cancer diagnosis.  We had a very encouraging conversation.  In particular, one thing he said was extremely thought-provoking.  To paraphrase, he said something along the lines of:

"You know, everyone likes to think of themselves as main characters of the Bible.  We picture ourselves like Job when trials our way.  We picture ourselves as David or Abraham or Paul.  What if that's now the role God is having us play?  What if we're meant to play one of Job's children that were killed when the house collapsed when the great winds came?  Maybe we're the parents or siblings of Israelites that were killed fighting the Philistines.  We can't all be heroes."

It's very tempting to think God's sovereign plan revolves and hinges on us.  I mean, to be fair, each of us are are part of God's glorious plan to seek and save sinners and to bring glory to Himself.  There are probably a near infinite number of possibilities that God could have ordained and orchestrated the past, present, and future events of this world.  I mean, think about it.  God could have had each of us born on the other side of the world, or a thousand years ago, or not at all.  He could have made you a different sex or born to different parents.  Yet, in His omniscience and sovereignty, He decided that the plans He laid out were perfect and would bring Him the most glory.  That God would include us in this divine story is awe-inspiring and humbling.

Yet, not all of us (or even many of us) will play roles like the heroes of our faith played throughout Scripture.  We may not experience supernatural deliverance from trials like Daniel in the lion's den.  We may not get to communicate directly with God like Moses did on Sinai.  Some of us may play the still very important roles of living a faithful, mundane life here in Silicon Valley.  For others of us, God would have us be examples of unwavering faith in the midst of great persecution and loss.

For me, at least at this point in time, all I know is that God has me in the role of young adult with a currently incurable cancer.  While I pray for healing - either through medical advancements or through supernatural means - I am fully aware (and accepting of the fact) that God may not heal me.  And that's okay; God, in His wisdom, has planned this out for me.

It would be easy for people in my situation (and even more in situations that are far more difficult) to question how this is fair.  I'm reminded, however, of Paul's words in Romans 9:20-21.

"But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, “Why have you made me like this?” Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use?"

God is the sovereign, all-wise potter; we are but the clay.  As the potter, He gets to decide the purpose for each lump of clay.  We might be tempted to doubt the goodness of the potter when bad things come our way.  However, the potter isn't just a potter; He's our loving, heavenly Father.  Even more than our earthly parents, God knows what's good for us and delights in giving them to us.  It's because of this that we can have the confidence that "God works all things for our good, to them that love God, to them that are called according to His purposes" (Romans 8:28).

Is it a struggle to believe that God is working things for good in the midst of this cancer?  Sometimes.  I know though that I am but a man with finite knowledge.  It may sometimes be hard to see how God is working things for good in the midst of cancer, but I know that God is doing far more than I can see or recognize.  I just merely have to cling to what I know - that God is good and that God loves me.

Steady On

I just got back from an appointment with my oncologist.  He said that basically things are going as well as we could have possibly hoped for.  Praise God!  He also said that I'm the only one of his myeloma patients that isn't experiencing side effects from treatment.  Wow, praise God again.  My cancer number is down to a .6, but he said that we should start seeing a plateau and the numbers won't drop as quickly.  We can continue to pray that the number goes down to zero though!

I was saddened to read of another myeloma patient that recently passed away.  He blogged regularly, and it was helpful for me to know of some of the day-to-day struggles that might come with the disease.  In each of his posts, he expressed hope (and even confidence) that he would beat cancer.  I'm not sure this was empty bravado or what, but even up until his last post he was stating he would beat cancer.

I know many cancer patients have the same mindset.  Don't get me wrong; I do think there's benefit from positive thinking (I've even ready some scientific studies which showed optimistic people had better outcomes than those who were always down.)  But ultimately, it's a little sad that we human beings cling so tightly to this sense of control.  We want to be in complete control over every aspect of our lives.  It's this desire for control that causes some to think they can beat cancer by sheer force of will.  More than anything though, I think this just shows how rebellious man tries to run from a loving, sovereign God.

Accepting my cancer diagnosis became easier when I was able to accept that I cannot control everything.  This cancer - and how it responds to the chemo - is largely outside my control.  Some may say that since things are beyond our control, all life's events depend on chance or fate.  I choose to believe in an all-powerful God orchestrating all things for good, and I will continue to pray that God would remove the cancer entirely.  Even if I am not ultimately healed of this disease, I have peace knowing that God is omnipotent, God is in control, and God is good.

You can't manipulate God

Hello friends,

I'm still feeling pretty good!  I thought I was feeling queasy yesterday after taking all my pills, but it turns out I was just hungry.  :)

Over the past couple of weeks, I've had many people tell me that they pray for me regularly.  A couple of people have honestly told me they haven't been praying as frequently as they could be, and they've apologized for that.

While I appreciate the sentiment, it really got me thinking.  It's easy to get into the mindset that if I receive a right level of prayers I'll be healed.  Or, if I would only pray for the right things, I'll be healed.  It's subtle how that type of thinking seeps into our prayers, but when we think that way, our prayers become more like a magical spell.  With the right combination of words, maybe we can bend God's will.

We can't manipulate God.

I do believe that prayer is powerful and effective.  I do believe that God answers prayers.  However, our God is omnipotent and sovereign.  He does whatever He pleases and has planned out all events from before time began.

Why do we pray then if God will ultimately do whatever He wills?  I don't profess to fully understand, but I recognize a few things.  First off, God commands us to pray.  1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 tells us to pray without ceasing.  Philippians 4:16-18 tells us to make our petitions to God.  In Luke 18, Jesus told parables so that people would learn to always pray and not give up.

Secondly, we're told that prayers are effective.  James 6:16 says that the prayers of a righteous man are powerful and effective.  Jesus says that God listens to godly men (John 9:31).

Finally, we're told to pray according to God's will.  1 John 5:14 says that we can have confidence that God will answer us if we pray according to God's will.  Jesus Himself submitted himself to the Father's will when praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, asking for the cup to pass from Him.  "Nevertheless, not my will, but Yours be done," He prayed.

In some mysterious way that I don't understand, God uses our prayers to accomplish His will.  One of the amazing things about prayer that I've seen first hand is that through prayer, God molds and conforms our desire and will to His.

So friends, thanks for your ongoing prayers.  I believe God is using them in a powerful way.  Nonetheless, don't feel bad if you're not praying as often as you would like.  God wants us to be faithful in prayer, yes; but we also need to guard against somehow thinking that sheer numbers of prayers or the right combination of words will somehow force God to offer healing.

I'm still alive! :)

Hi everyone, I know it's been a long time since I've posted.  I know people that I don't get to talk to on a regular basis worry when there are gaps in my posting.  Sorry if you've been concerned; I'm actually doing really well.  This will be a bit of a miscellaneous, stream-of-consciousness type of update:

• Praise God, my protein electrophoresis test is showing that the paraprotein levels are coming down.  I started out at 2.2 g/dl at my diagnosis, and my latest test showed a level of 1.03 g/dl.  "Full remission" is if I get to 0, but I'm already showing at least a partial response to this intial treatment.  The doctor says that we're still planning for 6-8 months total of this initial treatment, so I still have 4-6 months to go.
• Every time I come in, the nurses always seem surprised that I still feel pretty normal.  They seem shocked that I'm still at work.  One of them even said, "We call you superstar because your labs are always so good!"
  
  I guess it's a huge blessing that I haven't felt many side-effects from the chemo.  To date, the only noticeable things are that my taste buds seem affected (sweet things don't taste as sweet) and I have trouble sleeping Friday nights (after I take the chemo drugs and some steroids).  It's sobering to be reminded that things will probably be noticeable at some point.  For now though, I'm learning to be grateful for my good health and for each new day of being alive.
• This morning while in the infusion center waiting for my shot, I started wondering how the other chemo patients viewed me.  Most of the patients in the infusion center are getting intensive IV chemo (which takes several hours and is more taxing on the body).  Most of them are older as well, and you can tell that they often aren't feeling well.
  
  Do these people view me with jealousy, wishing that they didn't experience any side effects from the treatment?  Do they look on me with pity for being young, knowing that they too probably started out similarly?  One thing I do know is that they're definitely empathetic.  I never would have been able to empathize with cancer patients prior to my diagnosis, but now that I have cancer myself, I can relate to other patients on a whole new level.
• Tom Brokaw was on Dateline (you can watch the episode online here) talking about his battle with Multiple Myeloma.  I found it fascinating, but I'm sure my loved ones found it at least a little bit troubling hearing how challenging it's been for him.  There were several things about the episode that I found interesting:
• Tom Brokaw had no warning before his doctors told him the diagnosis.  They kind of sprung it on him.  I am so grateful that I had several tests that caused me to start to suspect I had cancer before I got the confirming diagnosis.  I don't know how I would have handled that bomb dropped on me out of the blue from a doctor.
• Brokaw did not want to tell people about his diagnosis.  I don't really understand that.  If anything, I struggle with not being able to wear a badge telling everyone I have cancer.  I don't want people to be surprised when I'm out for doctor's appointments or when I get sick because of my weakened immune system.  More than that, however, the prayers and encouragement from my friends and family have been invaluable to me.  To each his own though, I suppose.
• Brokaw lost two inches due to myeloma.  NOOOOOOOO!  :'(
• He kept stating that in spite of his diagnosis, he lived a lucky life (also part the title of his book that he was promoting).  I truly believe he feels that way.  However, I keep asking myself how he would respond if he got diagnosed at my age, before he was able to lead a distinguished and fulfilling career, before he was able to have the children and grandchildren that joined with him during his battle with cancer.
  
  The temptation is always there for me to look at someone like Tom Brokaw (or even more poignantly, people without cancer that have lived full and happy lives) and feel gypped.  However, every time I'm tempted to think that way, I also realize that there are so many others struggling with so much.  For as sappy and as trite as it sounds, God has unique, individual plans for each of us.
  
  I can relate to Tom Brokaw saying he's led a lucky life.  There's an important nuance that differentiates us though.  I don't believe luck has anything to do with my state in life.  I have lived a blessed life because God has given me more than I deserve.  My sin made me an enemy of God's, and no amount of my own good works could change that.  Through faith in Christ's death, burial, and resurrection, I am imparted Christ's righteousness and I can be at peace with God.  The fact that I can spend eternity with God instead of suffering eternal punishment is all the proof that I need that I am blessed no matter what other circumstances I may be in.
• The Dateline special made me grateful for living in the Bay Area with access to doctors and specialists.  Tom Brokaw spends a lot of his time in rural Montana, and he had to travel hours to visit doctors.  I realized that countless others are in the same situation.  For me, I drive twenty minutes for my blood draws and shots.  I can go to Stanford to see myeloma specialists.  What a blessing.
• Tom Brokaw mentioned that his cancer has been incredibly burdensome on his family.  I know firsthand that it's been hard for my family to come to terms with my diagnosis, and I can only imagine that it will only get harder.  Still, he mentioned that this has brought them closer together, and I'm seeing that too.  I never had any doubt how much my family (and friends!) loved and cared for me, but it's still great getting those constant reminders.
• The special also showed KathyGiusti, founder of the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation.  It's pretty crazy that she herself got cancer at a young age and seems to be possibly cured (she received a stem cell transplant from her twin sister).  How providential that God would give her a twin that would be healthy, and how great it is that she had a medical background (and her twin had a legal background) so they had the expertise to start a research foundation.  The MMRF is doing some really great work in finding a cure for myeloma, and I thank God for them and pray that He blesses their efforts.
• My nurse today said, "No would who looks at you would know you have cancer!"  She meant that as a good thing, but something about that felt odd.  It feels surreal having regular conversations with people who don't know about my condition.  Do I bring it up when they ask what I've been up to or what I have planned for the summer?  Do I tell them when they ask why I have to leave work early Fridays when I go to the infusion center to get a shot?  It's all really weird.
• I'm realizing that people also don't know how to ask me how I'm doing (and I can't blame them!)  Some people say that we don't have to talk about my condition when we get together because I must be sick of talking about it.  (For the record, I don't mind talking about it; I know that people genuinely care and want to know how I'm doing, and that's reason enough to talk about it.)  Others tell me that I'm totally going to beat cancer because of how healthy I appear.  Others will ask the same things and make the same small talk each week.  (Again, I still appreciate it because I know they care.)  The challenge in that case is - I could appear fine for a long time, but it doesn't change the fact that cancer is now a part of my life.  The doctors really don't know how my Myeloma will progress in me, so part of me feels bad that these people will probably always be asking the same things over and over.  As long as they don't get tired of it though, I won't either.
• I spent this past weekend in Denver, getting to spend time with my buddy and his wife.  Sure, we made a lot of morbid jokes about cancer (but when you have cancer, you might as well laugh about it).  Aside from that though, those were probably the days I thought about my condition the least.  (We walked over 20 miles that weekend, some of it in heavy rain and even some snow).  I thank God for a bit of normalcy (and thanks to Shab and Kyle for the hospitality and for keeping me entertained).

Ok, hopefully that tides people over for a while.  :)  Thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement.  If there's ever another extended hiatus in my posting, you're more than welcomed to reach out to me via phone/email, or we can grab food or coffee if you're near me.  I'm more than happy to share what's going on; I just feel that if I posted daily, my posts would all start sounding the same.  ("I'm still feeling pretty healthy, but it's still hard mentally knowing that I have an incurable cancer ... etc.")

-b 

Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer

After I was diagnosed with cancer, my friend (and our church's Minister of Youth and Music) came back from the Shepherds' Conference with a song that he had just heard.  The song was one I knew but hadn't heard for a while, "Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer".  I listened to the lyrics closely, and it made me cry.  Austin wanted the two of us to do the song for offertory at GBF.  We were finally able to sing it today.  I'm grateful for the words and how God used Austin to remind me of such an appropriate song for this time in my life.

"Jesus Draw Me Ever Nearer"
Music by Keith Getty; Words by Margaret Becker

Jesus, draw me ever nearer

As I labour through the storm.

You have called me to this passage,

and I'll follow, though I'm worn.

May this journey bring a blessing,

May I rise on wings of faith;

And at the end of my heart's testing,

With Your likeness let me wake.

Jesus, guide me through the tempest;

Keep my spirit staid and sure.

When the midnight meets the morning,

Let me love You even more

May this journey bring a blessing,

May I rise on wings of faith;

And at the end of my heart's testing,

With Your likeness let me wake..

Let the treasures of the trial                                  

Form within me as I go - 

And at the end of this long passage,

Let me leave them at Your throne.

May this journey bring a blessing,

May I rise on wings of faith;

And at the end of my heart's testing,

With Your likeness let me wake.

Why God Doesn't Always Heal

Hi everyone, sorry for the lack of updates on my part.  I just am not quite sure what to post at the moment.  Life continues, and the world spins madly on.  Praise God that the King is still in control.

I had a check-in with my oncologist, and we chatted about how I'm doing with the treatment.  I feel very fortunate not to be experiencing any side effects from the treatment, but my doctor reminded me that things will probably get more noticeable over the next rounds of treatment.  We won't know for a few months if the cancer is responding to the treatment.  At minimum, I'll be on the same regiment for the next couple of months.  If the cancer doesn't seem to be responding as well as we hope, we'll switch up the regiment.

And so, I'm back to adjusting to this new life.  Pills every morning and night (with tons of pills on Fridays), a blood test every Thursday at 6:30am, and a shot every Friday afternoon.  It's quite manageable, but understanding the reality that at some point I'll probably start feeling the effects is sobering and a little sad.  Still, my home church pastor (who also had his own fight with cancer) reminded me that God gives sufficient grace for each step of the journey.  I find comfort in that.

I also came across an article that J. Todd Billings (author of Rejoicing in Lament) wrote.  It's also a good reminder: Why Doesn't God Always Heal?  I like the closing of his article:

"Whether or not healing comes now, we pray for the strange work of God to be manifest on the path of illness, even if our desires for a glowing and tidy middle-class life have to be put on the cross."

God's been definitely blessing us over the past several weeks though.  I still receive encouragement after encouragement from friends, family, and coworkers.  I'm finding a lot of comfort in the Psalms and how the psalmist deals with trying times.  God is good.  May I never forget that.

Not Our Own

“We are not our own: let not our reason nor our will, therefore, sway our plans and deeds. We are not our own: let us therefore not set it as our goal to seek what is expedient for us according to our flesh. We are not our own: in so far as we can, let us therefore forget ourselves and all that is ours. Conversely, we are God’s: let us live for him and die for him. We are God’s: let his wisdom and will therefore rule all our actions. We are God’s: let all the parts of our life accordingly strive toward him as our only lawful goal.” -John Calvin

Accepting cancer and living with it becomes much easier when I realize that I have no claim on my own life.  I have been bought with a price, and I am His.

Myeloma Virotherapy

This sounds exciting: http://brianduriemd.myeloma.org/?q=content/can-polio-or-other-viruses-treat-myeloma

-b

Chemo Update

So far the chemo treatments haven't been bad (praise God!).  I have noticed one side effect though - sweet-flavored things no longer taste very sweet.  The nurse did say that chemo could affect the palette, but it's still a little sad given how big of a sweet tooth I have.  Still, this is a good reminder that the joys of this world pale in comparison to the sweetness of walking with Christ.

In other news, for the first time since diagnosis, my total protein levels are back in a normal range!  (The total protein count from my physical was what caused the doctors to run more tests which eventually resulted in the multiple myeloma diagnosis).  While it seems to indicate that the treatment is starting to work, it doesn't necessarily mean that the amount of cancer in my bone marrow is going down; we won't know that for sure until we run more specific tests in a couple of weeks.  Still, praise God!

Oh ... and a third praise God for the day - Christ is risen!

-b

Christ and Suffering

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/fuller/2015/04/our-fear-of-good-friday/

I'll admit that I don't fully know how to process my cancer.  In many ways, my diagnosis has created a disconnect within myself.  On the one hand, I've seen the goodness of God more clearly than before the news of my cancer.  I've seen that this cancer has brought me closer to God, to my wife, to my friends and family.  I've seen this increase my faith and strengthen my prayer life.  I've seen God provide me with unique opportunities to talk about my faith with people I never would have in the past.

And yet, every once in a while, a wave of sadness will wash over me.  I won't even see it coming sometimes.  On Sunday I started crying during Sunday School as Derek taught on the Psalms.  One morning this week I was just struck with the sorrow of having cancer.  When the sorrow comes, I honestly don't know what to do with it.  In my head I know that feeling sorrow is okay; I see that throughout Scripture.  The Psalmist mourns and pleads for justice and vindication.  Job brings his pain and questioning before God.  Even Jesus Christ himself weeps over the death of Lazarus.  Being broken before God is no sin.

But every time I start to mourn and feel sad, I have to stop myself.  For me, the sadness makes me feel incredibly ungrateful.  What happened to all of those great things that God has been doing in the midst of this cancer?  Aren't all of those things undeserved gifts from God?  Surely I don't deserve better than cancer after rebelling against God time and time again.  On top of that, I look at so many Christians that are going through even greater trials than my own.  I have dear friends that have young children with cancer.  I have friends that have recently miscarried.  Others are dealing with cancers much more painful than my own.  The persecuted Church around the world is facing great persecution in order to follow Christ.  In light of all of that, who right do I have to feel sorrow?

In his article, "Our Fear of Good Friday", Michael Wright comments about someone needing to tell him "don't use the suffering of others to dismiss your own."  He's right, of course.  God gives each of us our own unique trials, but the trials of others do not diminish the seriousness of our own.

A dear brother met with me yesterday and asked a poignant question.  In trying to so quickly "look on the bright side" when the waves of sadness hit, is the real issue that I'm afraid of experiencing a depth of anguish?  Am I afraid to be broken before God?  Perhaps, but it's more complicated than that.

In high school and college, I struggled with depression which stemmed from insecurity and pride.  I would so often fall into pits of self-pity and questioning the goodness of God.  Why can't I have this?  Why can't I be like this person?  In hindsight, my thoughts and actions were just so incredibly sinful and self-centered.  By the grace of God, it hasn't been a struggle for several years, but I'm incredibly wary of falling into that dark pit again.  Part of the challenge of coming to terms with cancer and processing it emotionally is that I'm worried that once I start expressing pain and anguish to God, I might fall back into depression.  While this is a valid concern, I do recognize that I could be missing out on deepening my faith in Christ by not bringing my pain and sorrow before Him.

I'm so grateful for the example of Jesus Christ.  As Michael Wright points out, "On Good Friday, Christ himself experiences forsakenness and suffering that rends his body and threatens his trust in God."  Christ was in anguish in Gethsemane, and He suffered excruciatingly on the cross.  He laid all of that before His loving Father, even asking for the cup to pass from Him.  But ultimately, His unfailing faith allows Him to commit His spirit to God.

In the suffering of Christ, I find there is no shame in pain, sorrow, and anguish.  When I express those to Him, I'm expressing to one who can relate and empathize for He Himself suffered greatly.  It's easy to overlook Good Friday and simply celebrate Christ's victory over death on Easter, but Good Friday is worth celebrating, for it's on Good Friday that "the cross becomes an icon of suffering and a bedrock example of Christ's love."

Thank you, Jesus, for being the suffering servant, the sacrificial lamb, and the great high priest who sympathizes with our pain and weakness.

Good Friday

Good Friday puts life and cancer into perspective.  The only reason why Christians have any hope is because Jesus took on our sin, was punished for our sins on the cross, and then rose again.

"For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." -2 Corinthians 5:21

"Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
2 For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected[b] by men;
    a man of sorrows,[c] and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4 Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all."  (Isaiah 53:1-6)

Hark! the voice of love and mercy
sounds aloud from Calvary;
see, it rends the rocks asunder,
shakes the earth, and veils the sky:
'It is finished! 'It is finished!'
hear the dying Savior cry.

'It is finished! O what pleasure
do the wondrous words afford!
heavenly blessings without measure
flow to us from Christ the Lord:
'It is finished! 'It is finished!'
saints the dying words record.

Finished all the types and shadows
of the ceremonial,
Finished all that God had promised;
death and hell no more shall awe;
'It is finished! 'It is finished!'
Saints, from hence your comfort draw.

Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,
Join to sing the pleasing theme,
his great finished work proclaim;
Saints on earth and all in heaven
Join to praise Immanuel's name:
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

Rejoicing

Yesterday my friends, Jesse and Peony, got married.  I had the true privilege of being one of Jesse's groomsmen.  If I'm being honest, I wasn't quite sure how I'd handle being in a wedding so soon after being diagnosed with cancer.  While I've seen the goodness of God in so many ways over the past several weeks, I can't say that I've been in a very celebratory mood.

Yet, over the course of the day yesterday, God reminded me of two things:

• God is unbelievably good and faithful
• It is God's grace to me in allowing me to rejoice with those who are rejoicing

The story of Jesse and Peony's journey up to their wedding day is truly a testimony to the goodness and faithfulness of God.  They endured great trials during their courtship and engagement period, yet they never lost faith in God.  I will cut out many of the details, but God answered so many prayers yesterday - from generously providing the two of them a place to live literally the morning before the wedding, to God miraculously softening the heart of an immediate family member who decided to come (and participate in the ceremony) at the eleventh hour.

I spent some time yesterday thinking about what a challenging several months it's been for these friends of mine, but never did God leave or forsake them.  In the midst of trying times, God surrounded them with loving brothers and sisters that would uphold them in prayer.  He sustained them with grace upon grace and strengthened their belief that He was in control.  And, at the culmination of their journey, God lavishly rewarded their faithfulness.

Jesse and Peony's path to marriage gives me such hope for my ongoing battle with cancer.  First of all, I'm reminded that we all have trials.  While my trial may feel unique, God has told us in His Word that all Christians will suffer in this lifetime.  In the midst of persecution, Paul said that he was "afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair" (2 Cor 4:8).  He was not surprised when suffering came his way, for he saw that Christ was on display in his own, human weakness (2 Cor 4:11).  The apostle Peter echoes this sentiment.  He advises believers that instead of being surprised by suffering, they should rejoice in their trying circumstances, for trials will grow the believer's faith and glorify God (1 Peter 4:12-16).

Secondly, I've seen how blessed Jesse and Peony were to be surrounded by a loving church family during difficult times.  Over the past few weeks, I've experienced that same love and affection.  I've received countless letters, texts, emails, and hugs.  I've had friends bring over meals or just come over to be with me so I wouldn't be alone.  While having cancer sometimes feels isolating, I've never been alone with so many dear Christian brothers and sisters encouraging me and ministering to me.

Finally, I've gotten to see God's perfect timing on display in the lives of Jesse and Peony.  When we had all lost hope that the family member would have a change of heart and attend the wedding, God continued to work behind the scenes and the family member decided to come the day before the wedding.  When Jesse and Peony had to deal with disappointment after disappointment in looking for housing and even had to resort to looking at apartments at 8am the day of the wedding, God was busy preparing a place beyond what they could have asked for.  I don't claim that my trial will result in healing, but getting to share in Jesse and Peony's story reminds me that God is always at work, even when it seems that nothing is happening or when prayers seem to go unanswered.  God is always good, always faithful, and always in control.

As I reflected on all of this at the wedding yesterday, I could not help but rejoice with Jesse and Peony on their special day.  I rejoiced as God was glorified at joining a man and woman together in marriage.  I rejoiced as the gospel was proclaimed in the marriage ceremony yesterday.  I rejoiced in seeing Jesse and Peony surrounded by so many people who loved and supported them.  In rejoicing with them, I was reminded that even in times of sorrow, God graciously enables me to share in others' joy.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.  (Philippians 4:4)

Heidelberg Catechism

Q. What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A. That I am not my own,1 but belong—body and soul, in life and in death2—to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.3

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,4 and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.5 He also watches over me in such a way6 that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven;7 in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.8

Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life9 and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.10

1 1 Cor. 6:19-20
2 Rom. 14:7-9
3 1 Cor. 3:23; Titus 2:14
4 1 Pet. 1:18-19; 1 John 1:7-9; 2:2
5 John 8:34-36; Heb. 2:14-15; 1 John 3:1-11
6 John 6:39-40; 10:27-30; 2 Thess. 3:3; 1 Pet. 1:5
7 Matt. 10:29-31; Luke 21:16-18
8 Rom. 8:28
9 Rom. 8:15-16; 2 Cor. 1:21-22; 5:5; Eph. 1:13-14
10 Rom. 8:1-17

MMRF

I don't know much about science and research, but the work that the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation is doing is pretty exciting: http://now.themmrf.org/

The New Normal

Sorry I haven't posted much lately.  Life is a bit strange at the moment.  After having my world turned upside down with the cancer diagnosis, it's a little unnerving how quickly I've adjusted to this new normal.

I'm feeling a bit conflicted.  Is it alright to feel complacent when I have a serious disease?  Should I be more concerned?  More angry?  More distraught?  Maybe this is just the grace of God that has enabled me to adjust to this new phase of life.

***

My friend, Todd, told me about a book by a Christian author who also was diagnosed with multiple myeloma at a relatively young age.  His book is entitled Rejoicing in Lament: Wrestling with Incurable Cancer and Life in Christ.  Here's a quick review I found on the book.  I hope to post my own review here once the book arrives and I finish reading it.

Chemo Day 1

I think I have a pill problem.  :)

Today was Day 1 of chemo!  The drug calendar is pretty complicated, but Fridays are the days I take way more pills than other days.  So far I'm feeling pretty good!  I also went to the infusion center to get a subcutaneous injection of another drug (they shoot it through my belly).  It was a pretty quick process though, so praise God for that!

Flowchart Prayers

"And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.  And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him." (1 John 5:14-15)

As a young child in Sunday School, I was taught that God hears all of our prayers and answers each one.  He either answers our petitions with a "yes", "no", or a "not now".  As I got older, I was taught that God would give us everything we asked for, so long as it was in His will.  This made sense to me intuitively; if our prayers intersected with something God willed to do anyway, of course He would grant us those requests.  The challenging aspect of prayer then becomes - how do we pray according to God's will since His thoughts are far above our thoughts (Isaiah 55:9) and we may not know what His will is?

At the start of this cancer journey, when blood tests first started hinting I might have cancer, I had a hard time praying.  My prayers went something like this:

"Dear God, if it be Your will, please don't let this be cancer!"
But, what if it is God's will for this to be cancer?" 

Ok, God.  If it's Your will that it is cancer, please let it be a cancer that's easily cured, if that be Your will."

Well, maybe God doesn't want my cancer to be curable so I would trust Him more.  You don't know that's His will." 

God, if it's somehow Your will that I have cancer and Your will that it not be curable, please at least give me a relatively long life where I'm feeling healthy ... if that be Your will." 

What if that's not God's will either?

 On and on I'd go, and my prayers became elaborate flow-chart / choose-your-own-adventure prayers - "If yes, great!  If no, please see my next prayer."  In an effort to pray according to God's will, my prayers began to feel disingenuous.  Was I really praying for painful, untreatable, terminal cancer if that was God's will?  At the same time, I felt guilty praying for full healing because I knew there were plenty of other things that were in God's will - that God would be glorified, that He would open opportunities to share the gospel, that my faith would grow.

I started seeking counsel from some godly brothers.  Was this really how God wanted us to pray?  In discussing it with them and thinking about it some more, here are some conclusions I've come to:

• It is not sinful to pray for the desires of your heart.  The psalmists prayed for deliverance and justice.  Hannah prayed for a child.  These are all prayers pleasing to God.  The psalmist even prays that God would give the people the desires of their heart (Psalm 20:4).
• However, our desires are to be continually transformed by the Spirit.  As we mature as Christians, our desires and affections shift away from the sinful, fleshly lusts and passions, and instead we long for the things of God.  As the psalmist mentions, as we delight ourselves in the Lord, He will give us the desires of our heart (Psalm 37:4).  This again makes sense intuitively.  If we're longing for the things of God, He will give them to us because they are things that God would want for us.
• Praying according to God's will is an attitude and a posture; it does not require that we caveat each petition with an "if it be Your will".  This is the principle that was my big "aha" moment.  Most prayers in Scripture aren't requests with an "if it be Your will" disclaimer.  Saints of the Bible freely and boldly made their requests before God.  However, underlying each of those prayers was a spirit that was willing to yield to God's will.  We need to have the attitude and posture that Jesus did when he prayed on the Mount of Olives that the cup would pass from Him.  I'm convinced that His prayer would have been no less godly if He left it out, but I'm so grateful for the words of Christ when He said "nevertheless, not My will but Yours be done" (Luke 22:41-42)

It's in light of this that I continue to pray boldly and unashamedly for complete healing.  I pray that the chemo treatment would be effective and even super-effective in killing all the cancer cells.  I pray that researchers would discover a cure or a blockbuster drug that I would be able to benefit from.  I pray that God would miraculously just take the cancer away.  

And yet, while I pray boldly for these things, I recognize that this may not be in God's plan for me; and that's okay.  This will not stop me for heart's longing for complete healing; nevertheless, not my will but His be done.

(PS, I'm planning to start chemo tomorrow, so please pray that the treatment would be effective and bring about healing.  Thanks!)

-b