"For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling; I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living." Psalm 116:8&9

Tuesday, December 28, 2010


I was hoping for answers today. I did not get them. Our oncologist was not satisfied with the information we got from the pathology report, so he is sending it off for further testing. We are hoping to know more next week.  

In the past few days, anxiety began creeping into my heart. And with so may questions left unanswered, my imagination has gone to some very dark, very scary places. Tonight, as William and I read the Bible before bed, the Lord used a favorite story of ours to very strongly encourage my weary, fearful soul. Here is an exert from our reading:

Then Jesus turned to his wind-torn friends, "Why were you scared?" he asked.  "Did you forget who I Am? Did you believe your fears, instead of me?"
Jesus' friends were quiet. As quiet as the wind and the waves. And into their hearts came a different kind of storm.
"What kind of man is this?" they asked themselves anxiously.  "Even the wind and the waves obey him!" they said, because they didn't understand.  They didn't realize yet that Jesus was the Son of God.
Jesus' fiends had been so afraid, they had only seen the big waves.  They had forgotten that, if Jesus was with them, then they had nothing to be afraid of.  
No matter how small their boat - or how big the storm.
(The Captain of the storm, the Jesus Storybook Bible)

I am uncertain of just how big this storm we are facing will be. But God loves William more than I do. And He is the one in charge of the storm. So I will trust. God, grant me faith.

Continue to pray with us. Continue to hope. We will continue to fight, no matter how hard it gets. Come, Lord Jesus, come...

Wednesday, December 22, 2010


My sweet little William did so well during surgery today! Around 7:30 this morning, the doctors did a biopsy of the tumor that is in his knee. They originally told me it would take about 15 minutes to do the biopsy - it took an hour. So, there I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by friends and family, waiting. And waiting. An hour isn't a long time to wait, but when you are waiting to hear news about a tumor in your baby, each minute takes forever! And then the doctor came out...

The results of the biopsy were inconclusive. They will be doing further testing to determine whether or not the tumor is benign or malignant. So we wait.  

I am a pretty patient person. I wait well. Or so I thought. I have discovered that I wait well for trivial things. But over the last few weeks, as we have waited for Will's cast to come off, waited to get an appointment to see the oncologist, waited for MRI results, waited for surgery, waited for biopsy results, I have learned that I suck at waiting. I want results. I want a plan. I want the world to stop so that we can get William healthy. And every moment that I have to wait makes me feel helpless, fearful and angry.  

As I have waited over the last few weeks, I have been given a glimpse of what is was to wait on the coming Messiah. For Israel, waiting all of those centuries for the promised Savior was painful. Every time they were taken into captivity, every time someone waged war against them, they were reminded of the yet-to-be fulfilled promise of a Savior coming to rescue them. The words of the Christmas carol show us the pain of their waiting so well: 

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,

That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

They mourned while they waited. But their weeping ended - just like the night. Morning broke -  God was faithful. He sent Jesus. And yet, we still wait. Not for the birth of the Messiah, but for the second coming. Romans 8 tells us that all of creation waits eagerly, with groaning for the return of Christ.

So this week, we remember and we wait. We remember the first coming of our Savior, long ago, in the town of Bethlehem, one starry night. We wait, with eager anticipation, for the return of our Savior who promises to rescue us and make all things new. And I wait - for biopsy results and a plan, knowing that no matter what they might be, a sovereign, loving God promises that He will work all things for our good and His glory. May I feel the angst of the need for Jesus and the peace that comes from being His child.

Thank you for all of your prayers and encouragement over the last weeks. They have been a sweet blessing. Please continue to pray and hope with us. I am confident He is able to do far more than we could ever ask.


Friday, December 17, 2010


I haven't blogged in a while. I haven't had the words needed to describe what has been going on in our lives.

While there have been no words to write, there have been an abundance of words running around my mind. It has been hard to quiet my mind. Hard to focus. Hard to sleep deeply.

And there have been lots of words spoken to me. Words I don't want to hear. I like to call them "dirty" words. They are not profane or vulgar. They are not R-rated. But they are words that make your heart cringe. Simple words like "concerned" and "abnormal." And more complex words like "growth," "tumor," "oncologist," "MRI," "surgery." It's even worse when these words are spoken about your child.

During the first week of November, William fractured his leg. It was a frustrating experience because there was no event that would explain a fracture. No fall. No traumatic episode. Just unexplained pain and swelling. We saw a doctor and had numerous x-rays. He was put in a cast that went from his thigh to his toes. He was grumpy and in pain. And we waited. We waited for the fracture to heal. After a month, we took the cast off. His fracture was healed, but we discovered a growth in his knee. We were referred to an oncologist who ordered an MRI for the next morning. We met with the oncologist today for the results.

William has a tumor that starts a few inches above his knee, goes down the side of his knee and wraps around the bottom of his knee cap. On Wednesday morning, William will have a biopsy done. We will immediately know if the tumor is benign or malignant. The doctor has a course of action planned for both scenarios. We would appreciate your prayers.

In all of this, the Holy Spirit has impressed upon me the truth about words. When I have no words, He interceded to the Father on my behalf (Romans 8:26). When "dirty" words cause me to fear, He reminds me that Jesus upholds the universe and my son with His word (Hebrews 1:3). And most importantly, He reminds me that my hope is found in The Word, Jesus (John 1:14).

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Traditions: The Christmas Train

It's not Christmas in our house until the Christmas Train is set up. The Christmas Train was originally Barry's mother's. When she passed away, it became a part of our Christmas tradition. It was always Daddy and William's job to set up the train. This year, William and I set up the train. It provides hours of entertainment. More importantly, it makes us smile and brings back sweet memories of special people who are no longer with us.  

Merry Christmas!

Christmas 2007

Christmas 2008

Christmas 2009

Christmas 2010