Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly


 Well, we are on Day 17 of Andrew's first chemo cycle. He is doing great in all aspects. He is eating like a champ. Guzzling down tons of milk and applejuice. Playing everything from He-man to Strawberry Shortcake. Sleeping through the night. Enjoying no shots because his counts are up. We couldn't ask for a better situation with him. We are so thankful that God has had mercy on our little guy and given him a great couple of weeks. He is asleep downstairs and will be joining us for church tomorrow, Lord willing.
 The funny thing is, although Andrew is doing so great, the whirlwinds continue to blow through our peaceful house. The girls have reverted with some of their behaviors and just been a little more anxious about where mom and dad go when we walk out the door. The meals are still being brought by wonderful servants to just keep me afloat throughout the week. And the visitors have still been here to keep us company just in case something would happen. As we said goodbye to dear friends this afternoon who had come to take care of our kids last night and stay with us, I fell apart. Not because they had left but because my world is still so out of control. Everything may look good on the outside with our house but we are still dealing with the turmoil that comes with the news of having a son with cancer. We feel stress of the week to come and what side effects may come down the pipe. We feel stress not knowing exactly how to shepherd our other kids with their fears. And I feel stress because I still feel like I am walking in a fog at times not knowing where to begin wtih chores, phone calls, or organization. It is a very strange place to be.
 Yesterday we had a great time out as a family. We loaded the four kids up and went to McDonald's for Happy Meals and burgers. The kids were great. We received the usual smiles and stares in amazement at the juggling act Rick and I do to get everyone's coat off, seat settled, and food in front of them. Luke even got to sit in a high chair and eat with us for the first time. I sat watching my kids munch on their fries and converse with one another and just smiled. This was wonderful. Time together as a "normal" family. As I glanced around the room at the sweet faces looking at us I felt proud. I also had this strange feeling inside because on the outside no one around us knew my son has cancer. It looked cute and normal.
 The outside looks okay but the inside is raging. Both Andrew's body and our hearts. We want the battle to be won already. Part of me wanted to just get in the car and drive and ignore all that we have to still face. I dread Thursday coming but know that if we don't walk through it, Andrew will not get better. This is the "bad" part about it. We must go through at least one more round of chemo just to determine the next step in this journey. We must face the side effects and weather the storm that will come home from the hospital. We have to do all this and raise 3 other kids, pay bills, preach sermons (Rick), and just function through each day. This is hard and very challenging to be reminded of each minute of every day. Cancer isn't just an ear infection that will go away with some antibiotics. It is a disease that will destroy Andrew's body if we don't fight. The bad part about it is that on the outside everything seems fine and we inject poison into him and it then seems awful. We have seen no outward effects of the cancer wrecking his body but we have seen the effects of the chemo-poison causing him pain and sickness.  That is part of the irony of this whole thing.
  The "ugly" comes in with the way we respond to this trial. As you can imagine we are under a great deal of stress and have many more things on our plates than we know what to do with. We snap at our kids. We push each other away. We run to things to escape the "out of control" feelings. I have seen sides of me that I never knew existed. I have had thoughts, fears, and feelings that might shock an average person if a "pastor's wife" were to share them from up front. There is great ugliness in my heart. I am not naturally wired to respond in love or kindness to those around me. I resent people for being kind to me and wish this had all never happened. The more I try to create a calm, normal world, the messier and uglier I make it.  It is a helpless, discouraging feeling.
 What is my hope? How can I make it one more day? I sat in the midst of the ugliness during the kids' naptime today and asked these very questions. I tried to pray and read Scripture to pull me up from these depressing thoughts. As I sat there just trying to make heads or tails of just this afternoon and the stress it carried with it the words that spoke to my heart came from the Heidelberg Catechism that says:
   1. What is your ONLY comfort in life and in death?
    That I (and Rick and Madi and Becca and ANDREW and Luke) am not my own, but belong-body and soul, in life and in death to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such as way that NOT A HAIR CAN FALL FROM MY HEAD without the will of my Father in heaven. In fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for Him.

Amen. Someone else holds my life and my families' life and especially Andrew's life in His hands. In a week Andrew will go through round 2 of his chemo treatment. He will be injected with more poison that will run through this body and try to destroy everything it can. He will probably lose his beautiful blond hair and begin to look a little sicker. When we go places he will no longer be looked at as just an ordinary boy but instead a little guy with cancer. And that makes me sad. However, I find great comfort in knowing that my God is aware of this. Cancer hasn't surprised him. Sickness and sadness doesn't overwhelm Him. In fact, He will be there with us when we cry over the loss over Andrew's outward appearance and know every hair that falls from his head. And our personal, loving Savior will walk next to us and help us get through another day. He will remind us that He is still in charge of the bad and the ugly and that He is fighting for Andrew to give our little man an incredible story to tell the world.

5 comments:

  1. Rick & Jessie,
    Everynight I check for a post from you and then say my prayers. I missed the picture last night & what a nice surprise tonight. I sure wish he was as healthy as he looks but have faith that he will be soon! Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers every day!

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  2. It was great to talk with you today. I really appreciated your openness about everything that you and your family are going through. You are a very strong woman and mother (even though at times it may not feel like it). :)

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  3. A little fellow named Andrew. Our precious grandson. We have packed up, closed down, readied the car to return again to the family we treasure walking through, for a season, a fierce storm. We wouldn't -couldn't - have it any other way.
    "(we)can do all things through CHRIST who strengthens (us)" He holds our hands too giving us courage every step.
    Yet this is an honor, a blessing. It is an honor to lend a hand, to come alongside. In the previous weeks we were blessed to see into the marriage of our son-in-law and daughter, the strength in this union not only between Rick and Jess, but with God as the head of their household. We see the teamwork as they pray together and with their children, work side by side with Andrew and Madi,Becca and Baby Luke. We see the encouragement and love as one lifts the other during this trial - as they face this enemy, this unknown, fearfully, bravely, like children themselves yet amazing adult parents, persevering on with GOD as their comfort and constant HOPE in the storm. We see what a solid marriage looks like when faced with real gut-wrenching challenges. And we KNOW, WITH GOD'S HELP, they shall rise up like eagles, VICTORIOUS after this war.
    We love you, dear hearts. We are on our way.
    Gene and Bea (Nanny & Poppa)

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  4. Jessie and Rick.
    I am so sorry that you and your family has to go through this. My heart just aches for you and little Andrew. Prayers are being said from this household and from our church family.
    Wish I could hug you in person...
    Sarah Sharp

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  5. Thank you for sharing, Mern. I love you. May God give you the strength you need in each ugly moment you face and may you continue to seek Him in all that lies ahead. Ellen

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