The Lion Fights: Working Through Patience, Today

It's been a bit since we've posted anything. We're back up at Doernbecher, and Ari is in the midst of day number 6 of 6 of high dose chemotherapy. We've always had to be careful any time he's receiving chemo with washing our hands when handling any bodily fluids, but one of the drugs he is getting currently seeps out of his pores. So, we are left giving him multiple baths per day, wearing long-cuffed gloves when touching him, and changing his sheets and clothes several times per day. It's tiring; however, it's today. And, we have today. We are so thankful for that.

I've been struggling recently with how we get to that "magical" day when the fear of relapse and disease progression is less of a worry. I want it now. As I've been talking with a good friend recently about his struggles with things in his life, he reminded me of the profound beauty that lies in living in the circumstances and purposefully leaning into what God has for you during that season. His words over the phone cut me to this point of shamefulness, yet freedom. How could I be plotting toward something that was never promised? And, what have I been missing while plotting? But, more importantly, I don't need to figure that out. That's freeing.

When I hung up the phone I stood outside Chipotle (thanks Ryan and Kristen for the gift card!), and I contemplated the truth he had just spoken over me unintentionally. I instantly thought of the royal official in John 4 whose son had been ill in Capernaum. He had met Jesus in Cana of Galilee where Jesus had miraculously told him to go because his son was now healed. Cool, right? But, here's the deal. Cana and Capernaum were over 20 miles apart. The royal official's mode of transportation was most certainly not the Autobahn or the high-speed rail. No, he had to walk. In case you were wondering, the average human being walks 3.1 miles per hour. So, he trekked over 7 hours with only the words of Jesus to hang on. He could have stood there and questioned Jesus's power or ability to do this miracle. He could have attacked Jesus for making such an outrageous claim. He could have laughed. Instead, he chose to walk each step of the 20-plus miles. He walked and walked believing that the promise was true.

Stay with me here. This is just how I think (scary, I know). He walked. He chose the journey. I think that's what we're all called to. I once read this Erwin McManus book entitled, Uprising, back in 2004. I don't remember much about the book, honestly; however, one thing has always stuck with me. McManus makes the claim that patience does not imply idleness. It's so easy and tempting to know or think we know the outcome of any circumstance. It's tempting to sit idly awaiting that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It's tempting to want to rush through the rainbow only for the gold. We all have circumstances, whether they are perceived to be good, bad, or in the middle. The mind is so skilled at projecting results, ends, or how things will be. The harsh reality that I keep being blasted with is that we have today. Only today. What we have today is each step of the journey however long that may be. Walking that journey is part of our story. Choosing to be engrossed in what is now and not what is at "the end" is life-changing. It's life-changing for me (and you) and for those I (or you) choose to share it with.

I was driving to Portland on Friday evening after work to be with Jenny and Ari. On my drive, I had the opportunity to speak to a good friend and mentor who lives in Kentucky. He had sent me a text message early on during this season. It was simple. Be good stewards of what story God has entrusted you with. Friday night he reminded me of that truth.

God has not promised health and no pain here on Earth; however, He has promised hope for what is to come. He has promised help. He has promised to never leave us. He has also promised trials. These are some of the promises that sustain us through life, through our journey to Capernaum. Please hear me. This is not a concession speech. We still petition and pray that God will heal our son. We still pray that he would be disease-free...forever. We will still fight for Ari and ask for Christ's leading in making each decision.

I share all of this because it is what we continually process and work through. I don't know that we're "there" with really understanding and grasping the full truth of everything that is being revealed. However, I know we want to trust in what God's promises are and walk patiently through each day fully experiencing each step. I know that we, along with everyone reading this scatter-brained blog post, have all been given a story. Our stories are transforming for us. They're also transforming for the friends, family, and strangers who hear or experience it in some way. I've been challenged and encouraged over the past few days to be patient in living through today. I've been challenged to continue to share our story with all that want to hear or read, because just like my friend who was sharing his story with me over the phone, we, too, have that same opportunity to affect another's life.

Ari has been the most wonderful gift in our lives. We thank you for wanting to share in our story with us.

Ari will finish with his last dose of high-dose chemotherapy today around 5 p.m. The next two days will be days of "rest" to allow the chemotherapy to exit his body. He will receive his stem cells on Friday that were harvested several weeks ago, stored in a freezer, and preserved to help in his recovery. Then, it's just wait and monitor all his kidney, liver, and blood levels. Over the next couple of weeks he will get transfusions of blood and platelets, infusions of antibodies and albumin, and medications to help fight off any infections that may arise. Today, he continues to do fairly well. His vomiting has increased over the last 12 hours as anticipated, but we rejoice that he is still playful and interactive. Thanks again for being a part of our story through your messages, prayers, and thoughts.