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.