Wednesday before another Thursday

"Well, it's a Wednesday before another Thursday..."

Jonathan's intro to our prayer before this week's chemo treatment. The words feel heavy with meaning for me, on the eve of another Thursday. I just completed my fourth treatment, which is the second round (of six), and makes me about 1/3 of the way done. I'm learning a lot about my body and how it responds to the drugs during each bi-weekly cycle. I can tell you that I feel it "hit" me about two hours into the three hour procedure. I know it's safe to eat Panera chicken-noodle soup on our way home, that I won't want to fall asleep that night, and that I'll spend the weekend distracting myself from the chemo-flu with friends, family, or some weird tv show about noodling.

I also know that I will feel 110% in exactly eleven days, which is three days before the Wednesday before another Thursday.

I love those three days. I feel like my old self: full of energy, strong, healthy. I celebrate by trying to wear extra-cute clothes and learning new styles for my hair. It's hard to say goodbye to all that on the Wednesday before another Thursday, hence the need for prayer night.

These times of prayer are the only way I know how to fight back against cancer. Being sick forces me to admit what I've always known, deep down inside: I'm not as strong, brave, or capable as I pretend to be. I'm certainly not in control of my world the way I'd like to be. But, prayer takes me into the presence of the One who is. The surprising thing is that I end up joining Him in the fight against cancer anyway, His way. He gives me the weapon of prayer, and has revealed an army of prayer warriors around me.

Like the men on Charleston Southern's division one football team, for example. Jonathan and I were enjoying our spring break trip to South Carolina, where Matthew is on the coaching staff for the Buccanners, when we met an army of unexpected warriors. The coaching staff asked if we could join them after a practice for prayer. We ended up surrounded by sixty football players, allowing them to "fight" on our behalf for this cancer to go away and for my heart to continue trusting in God. A very cool moment, (a very smelly prayer!) and a memory our family will always cherish.

Jonathan David Hesler talks about a "God of the Angel Armies" in this song:

Seems like all I can see, is the enemy surrounding me. Seems like all I can feel, is lies that you're not real. I lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the one who made the earth and the Heaven....
I believe that you're more real, than what I can see. I believe these hills are full, of a mighty Angel Army. 
God of the Angel Armies, you're mighty to save. 
God of the Angel Armies, you are worthy of our praise. 
God of the Angel Armies, you fight for us. 
God of the Angel Armies, you come down, and praises go up. 

I wonder, what does God's army of angels look like, exactly? Are they at all interested in fighting this fight with me? I hope so! Until proven otherwise, I'm just going to imagine they look something like those 60 Buccanneers.

Currently, my army is engaged in a battle for more white blood cells. I need them and I'd like them in great quantity, fast! Against all odds, my hair maintains it's position on my head with, regrettably, a few more casualties than usual each time I shampoo and blow dry. The cost of war.

I'm also eager for my first PET scan since my diagnosis, which will take place this Friday. The hope and expectation is for a clean scan, "cancer free!" I will still continue treatments through August-my doctor couldn't be talked out of that one, even though I tried. Thanks again for all of your prayers, cards, meals, and encouragement. I hope I can continue to pass along the same to others.

#3 with dad

Celebrating "good days"

Kicking cancer hiney with Jon at #4