Tag Archives: hope

May25

Dear Christian Mom Who Walks Away From Gay Son

Posted on by
Standard

image

The following is a letter I wrote to a friends mom after she opted to walk way and cease contact with her gay son if any contact revolved around his significant other. This was what I felt very strongly urged to share with her. If you would like to read what he and his fiance are walking through with this, check outPart 1 which was followed by Part 2 and this will shine light on why I wrote the things I did.

Dear ( mom) ,

I wanted to take a moment to share a couple of thoughts with you about ( your son ) and ( his fiance ). Before you write me off and stop listening to anything I have to say, I ask you to please hear my words.

I understand that your faith requires you to take a step back and not having anything to do with him or his living another man. Or at least, from the outsider looking in, that’s my take on the situation. Before I go on, I want you to know I don’t judge you, or put you in a category of an uncaring mother. Instead, I see you as a mom who cares deeply.

I will share my own why behind my words, and why I felt so strongly the urge to connect and write to you.

But first, I’d like to pose a question to you. Is the faith you cling to really more important to you than your son? I’m not actually saying you’re consciously making that decision – but, in reality, you are. This is the part that I’d like to challenge. Without knowing the specifics of the faith you hold dear, I’d like to just say that the God I know, love and serve is a God of love. Let that sink in. He loves. He loves me, you, you’re son, his fiance, and all the other heterosexual, homosexual, transgender, or whatever sexual orientation the person identifies with. Note the theme is love. He loves us all – exactly where we are, with whomever we also love.

I want to take a moment to stop and remind you – I’m not trying to change your mind, or to judge your decisions. Instead, I’d like to offer a vantage point different from your own.

Let me pose another question to you. If your son was gone tomorrow, would you miss him? Taking that a step further, would you have any regrets in walking away from him and the love he still freely shares with you? I’m just asking this to make you think. If you have even a doubt about any of these questions, I’d urge you to step outside of your comfort zone and ensure your son knows you love him. Now, this doesn’t mean you have to fully grasp or even like at all that he loves his fiance , and intends a beautiful love filled life with him. You don’t even have to tell either of them that you are okay with their actions. The only thing I hope you can find in yourself to do is to give love a chance. This “tough love” thing will only drive a wedge deeper, and you will not have a relationship based on love – or even a relationship at all. Your son loves you. He reaches out. He doesn’t ask that you agree with his being gay, but rather that you love him. For who he is, and the amazing individual God created him to be – without regard to who he loves.

If I sound passionate, it’s because I am. For multiple reasons. I’ll explain.

First, I am the mother of four children. Two boys, two girls. Two residing with me here physically, and two in Heaven. I lost a child during pregnancy, and just this past February, watched as my 7 y/o daughter took her final breath this side of Heaven after a three year fight with brain cancer. I tell you all that simply to say that life throws us curveballs, and – as a mother alone – I understand the need and desire to walk by and in faith. The need to protect our children. I’ve also come to challenge my own thoughts and beliefs – and I believe that’s made them stronger. I’ve learned perspective, and how to prioritize things in my life.

I’ve also come to the realization that loving someone doesn’t equal agreeing with the way they live their life. This leads me to my final point.

*******adding this to simply let anyone reading know that I discussed this fully with my child, and he’s okay with my sharing it. His heart hurt when I explained the story, and why I was writing a letter to my friends mom. His hope is that people can see love as a way of communication instead of hatred and anger. *******

I have a open line of communication with my children as well. This doesn’t make me better or worse than anyone else. Instead, it makes me available. But, as such, I recently had a conversation I didn’t think I was prepared for. My teenage son reveals that he is gay – or, at a minimum, bisexual. Upon hearing these words, I expressed love to him. I told him how proud I was that he trusted me with this deeply personal information. While it wasn’t the love I saw him embracing, the fact that he could be honest with me was a blessing more than you could imagine. I continued by telling him that I’d love him, no matter what sexual orientation he identifies with. When approached with his concern of the church (or even me) wanting to “pray the gay away” my heart broke. As a Christ follower, my goal is to love like Jesus loves. In that moment, I felt a need to apologize on behalf of Jesus Himself for all the people who spew hatred in His name. He calls us to have and walk in a reckless love. This is a love, even in the face of something not seemingly worthy.

In challenging my own beliefs, I came to realize that Jesus died a brutal death because of love. He loves us enough to take on the sins of the world because He loves all of us. He died this brutal death do we didn’t have to. He loves us in a way that promotes life. Ultimately, His grace is freely given to anyone who chooses to accept it. We don’t deserve it – but it’s freely given.

I’ll conclude by reminding you that I don’t judge you for essentially walking away because you can’t fathom loving a person who loves someone of the same sex. I just wanted to share because you don’t have to love what they do to actually love them. I identify as a Christ follower. As such, I am to be the hands and feet of Jesus to ALL people – not just the ones I agree with. So, my only challenge to you really is will you join me in loving people as Jesus loves? That’s all I’m asking you to consider.

Thank you for taking the time to read, and I’d be honored if you’d share your thoughts in reply. Much love and many hugs to you. You, also, are loved – exactly where you are.

Sincerely,

image

May10

Tired Of Wearing Masks

Posted on by
Standard

image

See that!? It’s symbolic of masks most people put on every – single – day. Well, I speak for no one other than myself – but I can honestly say that I’m sick and tired of it.

Let me explain.

Reality now tells me that people want transparency. People need authenticity and, at times, even vulnerability. It’s common knowledge that those things aren’t always easy – but they ARE worth it.

See, I’m simply tired of needing to put on a strange variety of masks. I honestly don’t have the time or energy to figure out what I’m supposed to feel, look like, or act like around whatever company I’m with. I have recently concluded that people will either like me, or they won’t. (No big revelation there.) That said, I’ve also decided that I want people to know me for ME – not the me they envision I should be.

I want to know others, and be known. I want to love people, and allow myself to also be loved. I want to be valued, you see, for me. For what I am. Not for what I can do, or for who I know.

It is absolute truth that my heart, though healing, is also shattered – and prone to break at times. It is during these times that I’ve learned to simply be me. No more facade. No more masks. I know with this sorry if “take it (me) or leave it” attitude, many may walk away. If that’s the case, know that it’s okay. I need real people to connect with. I need people who are present and accounted for. I need community, and so do you.

Let’s address you.

You wear masks you (maybe even secretly) that you wish you could take off – but you don’t I will spare you the awkwardness of asking you why. I know why. Because I AM you. So I can tell you this.

You may have grown comfortable with a mask. The longer you wear a mask, the longer you stay to mold to it. At some point, it’ll become difficult to tell the difference in the mask and your true identity.

Let that sink in for a moment.

The longer you keep up a facade, the longer it will try to cup away at and ultimately destroy the real you.

I challenge you THIS DAY. Take off your masks. Let down your facade. Stop pretending to be something you’re not. Stop seeking the temporary strength you might feel from covering up the beauty that is the real you.

You be you! You’re the very best person to tell YOUR story. Don’t tell their story. Plow your own way through – and don’t be afraid to tell your story – even the painful parts.

What you will find as you take off the mask is maybe some brokenness. Maybe some cracks that need mending. Don’t be afraid of those places. Love them. Be gentle with them. See their value, and give them a voice. You will find yourself surprised at the sheer beauty you’ll find hiding – hiding behind that mask.

Will you do this for yourself? But, is also like to ask – will you also do it for me? You see, I need you, and you need me. We can sit together in this pain – and we can be broken together.

May2

The Power In Music – Zealand Worship, Citizen Way, and MercyMe Concert

Posted on by
Standard

Music is powerful. That is more than a statement, and music truly is more than a song. Many artists freely admit that their songs stem from their own stories. They write from their own heart – which often contains unimaginable pain. To the naked eye, these songs are just pretty music with nice words. This is where I challenge things. Not that those thoughts are wrong, but I’d simply like to add. A song allows the artist to tell a story – and that story may include pain, hope, sadness, joy or a myriad of other emotions. But, it tells a story and that story resonates with different people on different levels – but does do Aggy whatever step on this journey through life they are taking.

To share a practical example of this principle in action, I’d like to share a personal moment with you. I was invited to a concert to see Zealand Worship, Citizen Way, and MercyMe live. Part of me wanted so much to go, but the other part of me wrestled with this. I was physically tired, and not feeling like getting out of bed after the late afternoon nap I couldn’t avoid. But, my choice to go and to be with friends for a night if music won that battle. I went. And I’m glad.

To further explain just the significance of those moments in time…

To backtrack a slight bit, I’ll briefly tell you why I was in the mood and frame of mind that I was. As you may or may not know, we lost a baby through miscarriage, and also seven years later – we lost our precious 7 year olddaughter Janet after a very courageous battle with what we’d learn was terminal brain cancer. I’ve lost friends and military unit members to suicide. I’ve experienced abuse, and know the effects of trauma. I know the pain of depression and the effects of mental illness.

I was thinking, mostly about missing my little girl since her death is still so fresh. (She passed away Feb. 13, 2016.) But, those thoughts brought up so many more. Thoughts of brokenness. Thoughts of pain. Thoughts of hope and love – often hidden or elusive. I really wasn’t okay.

In those moments, I really wasn’t okay. I wasn’t actually suicidal. But, I’d be lying if I told you that living through this kind of personal hell on earth can be seemingly impossible. I was thinking about life being unfair, and seeming so broken, almost beyond repair. I was thinking about life after death. I was thinking about seeing my daughter, and so many others who have gone before and after her. Thinking of the epic reunion that would be.

But, the thought of going to a concert again won. I had attended several concerts with Janet. She adored music as well, and could sing right along to many songs. Songs with messages. I had to remember that. I had to go and see what messages I would hear. I wondered if there would be anything spoken or otherwise delivered that could still touch my shattered heart. I may have had doubts there, but the desire was there for a reason.

Love, comfort, peace and strength were just a few of those reasons.

The first band to take the stage was Zealand Worship. I had never seen them before. Their words and their songs were spot on. They made me smile, and wish for a CD. To see the raised hands (the bands, but countless others around the arena) in worship did something. It sparked a memory of love – if a time in life that did know pain, but more accurately also knew tremendous hope.

The next band to walk on stage was Citizen Way. This band is one I met roughly five or six years ago at A Christmas concert. At the time, my daughter hasn’t even been diagnosed with cancer, but life still knew pain. At the time, they spoke words directly from God to me heart. This concert was no different. In fact, meaningful took on a whole new meaning. Ben Calhoun (from the band) spoke so many words that my heart grabbed onto. But, when he started to talk about the pain and trains behind some of the passion in their music, I held onto every word. You see, he and his wife had to say goodbye to a son (Jeremiah) that they never had the opportunity to know this side of Heaven. They may have had the opportunity to hold him, and to experience death in a strong, personal, and very real way. When Ben related how he felt His God was speaking to him – that, that grabbed hold of my heart. God’s warm and loving hands were holding Jeremiah in His hands. From Ben and his wife’s hands, directly into the hands of God. That thought brought me so much peace and comfort in that very moment. It helped me see my own story in a similar light – as I had a similar experience with pregnancy loss, but also in the death of my seven year old princess. Citizen Way’s songs just spoke to my heart than they ever had before. They spoke to my heart on a personal level. They were instrumental in the tears in my eyes being happy instead of painful tears.

After Zealand Worship and Citizen Way were finished, I wondered what more was in store – what ways God could use music notes and words from a page to bring peace, comfort, strength, and love to this broken heart. To this depressed and hurting (proud to be recognized as) child of God. So, I opened my heart to the possibility of hope being real again, even of life having purpose once again. For love to hold me. So, there I remained – now with renewed expectancy. Next up was the final band of the evening.

The final band to bless the arena with its presence, and to share the heart of God with the same kind of passion of the two bands on stage before them, was MercyMe. Their lead singer, Bart Millard spoke from his heart – sharing so much pain and yet so much hope and peace in spite of the hurts. As a case in point example, he spoke of a venerable part of his story with such heartbreaking transparency – to an audience around six thousand, give or take. He shared the original hell on earth he lived as he endured verbal and physical abuse from his father – from someone who should have been busy protecting his heart, not crushing it. Then he shared the real miracle. His father came to know Jesus as the Lord and Savior of his life. Though skeptical, he watched his father’s heart and entire life surrender to Christ. Through that process, he was able to forgive his father, and a relationship built on love was permitted instead of one surrounded by painful memories. He even said he hopes to be like him when/if he ever grows up. (Bart, for what it’s worth – I don’t think you ever need to be concerned with you ever growing up. I don’t believe that’s a thing – it even possible! But you are a man with a heart like it sounds like your father finally came to know – – one of so much love and compassion.)

I’ll now circle back to my own thoughts, feelings and emotions that evening. There were thoughts of pain and hurting, of not wanting to live life this way, and of wishing for escape – that point where hope seems elusive. You can know in your head that how was never lost, but convincing your heart to believe it – sometimes very difficult. So I went there to spend time with dear friends, but left with so much more. I went to what I knew would be nice – maybe even encouraging music. What I did not expect was the very real infusion of hope and love right back into my heart. God’s love, largely in part due to the words and messages in the songs and spoken words, was able to permeate more broken places in what I feel is my shattered heart. But, what I realized was that He is still God. He is still good. And, He is still in control. No amount of pain or loss will ever take that away. He holds every single shattered piece of my heart (and yours too, if it’s broken) in the palm of His loving hands – close to His heart. I found myself falling in love with the heart again in such a sweet way.

So, if you’re a musician, songwriter, or anyone (from all thees venues, staff, and all members of the bands) who makes this possible – thank you. Don’t EVER doubt your worth – personally or as a team. What you do matters, and is life changing – life saving even. I may never have the opportunity to personally meet you. But, if I did, I’d consider it an honor to just look you in the eyes and say thank you. To say job well done. To say I’m proud of you for stepping outside your respective comfort zones and sharing intimate details of your life, and allowing those details (even the pain) to bring hope and healing while allowing countless others (myself included) to know they aren’t alone. Ever. Through anything.

Thank you for helping me remember these things.

If you are a fellow music lover such as myself, I want you to also hear these words. You are not alone. It’s okay to not always be okay. But, it’s also okay to allow yourself the freedom that comes with also allowing yourself to feel joy. No matter where you are in life, or what personal hell you’re going through, you don’t have to experience life alone. Please don’t believe the lie that tells you you’re alone, or that no one could possibly understand. No one can understand your specific brand of pain – bit they can relate on a universal level – that pain hurts. Allow others in. If this is you and if you’re hurting, please reach out. Talk to someone – a trusted friend, your pastor, your family, a counselor or therapist, or right here on the internet. Speak and be known. Feel free to reach out here and post in comments or send me a message via the contract me option. I’ll look forward to connecting and sharing life with you. Yes, I mean that. And yes, I’m still talking to you. You – you are loved and hope is real. Rescue is possible.

To everyone reading, a side note – May is a number of things, but two of them are near and dear to my heart. May holds title of brain cancer and also mental health awareness. So, as such – take the time to surround anyone you know (especially those fighting brain or any cancer) With love. Take the time to get to know people on more than skin deep levels. Let people know you’re willing to walk with them, or sour together in the pain. You have no idea the impact you can have or the absolute fact that you could potentially be saving a life. Even when you know a person, unless they choose to take off the mask, you may not fully know them. Be that for someone else, and allow someone the honor of being that for you. You be you, and know you’re loved. Right where you are. No questions asked. You ate a human being, worthy of so much love and grace. Again, you be you – your the best person to play your part.

For a slideshow videos of more pictures from this event, please feel free to check this link out. Concert pictures on YouTube

Apr25

When Perpetually Suicidal Thoughts Become More

Posted on by
Standard

image

Take a good look at that picture. You can’t see everything there – but what I want you to see is what a potentially lethal dose of medication looks like. Let that sink in. The meds are legal, and for in the palm of your hand. They are common meds – when used properly, save lives. When not – well the opposite is true. This one small handful of meds could take your life.

You might wonder how I have stumbled upon such information!? Simple. I looked it up. I asked the knowledge whale known as google for a little guidance. I was curious what completed suicides were as a result of specific medications. Medications I have easily within my disposal. I honestly wondered what that looked like. Why the picture/meme then!?  Again, a picture tells a story, and this one tells so many people’s story. As I looked at the picture, I realized two things – 1) it scared me and 2) the thought of “how easy it would be” made entirely too much sense. The next morning, I created that meme. I recognized the need to seek help was very real.

I may circle back around to that whole “seeking help” thought process in a moment. However, I’m going to just tell it like it is. Open up the window called transparency and let you see a glimpse inside.

Let’s talk about suicide and suicidal thoughts. You do know there’s a difference, right!? See, a person can have suicidal thoughts and not actually be suicidal. A person walks over the line between the two when a plan starts being concocted. People think about suicide all the time. People think about the meaning of life every day and wish it weren’t so painful. Neither thought makes them suicidal.

On the flip side, people also create plans to carry out suicides – to find a way to escape whatever painful reality they desperately seek relief from – every day as well. This, though, is a game changer. This is that moment where reaching out is vital. The suicidal person cannot see beyond the here and now. They cannot grasp the concept or even possibility of hope being real. People sometimes experience whatever makes up their own personal hell, and simply feel as if they cannot take the pain any longer.

At this point – or perhaps immediately upon reading the title – you might be wondering where this is coming from, or why now. My next question is why NOT now. Suicide is not a pretty word. It conjures up some (quite likely) painful thoughts. The stigma that surrounds mental health topics (suicide being only one in a vast ocean of others) cannot diminish if we cannot talk about it. It may be hard, but the conversation will be worth it.

Ask me how I know.

I want you to know something. First and foremost, I want you to know that I am not suicidal. Note my language again. I’m not suicidal. I do, however, have suicidal thoughts. I think much of the population would – if they’re being honest – admit having had suicidal thoughts at one point or another. I want to circle back to stigma again. What’s sad is that someone currently having, or having had suicidal thoughts IS NOT a secret needing to be hidden. It’s not something people should have to ADMIT TO, as if it’s a dirty little sin.

Okay, so back to my breaking the silence about my own suicidal thoughts. Yes, they happen. Yes, they’re real. No, they’re not happy. No, they’re not fun. They’re scary at times. However, I am able to separate myself from the thoughts. I can look at the thoughts, and I can know they exist. There have been moments where it’s been difficult to grasp onto the reality that things will ever be okay again – let alone good. In those moments, it is vital to remember that, though currently elusive, hope is most definitely real. Though the clouds in a dark and gloomy sky may hide that hope, all hope is not lost. I have to remember that the sun will break through the clouds, and it will shine again. Maybe not today, but tomorrow brings with it the potential of sunshine – of hope.

There are times where I feel like my heart is shattered. Times where I feel broken, almost beyond repair. I’m not though.

And neither are you.

Now, let me take a moment and address you. Yes, you. That person who knows nothing other than how to hide behind a mask. That person who believes that hope is a good theoretical topic, but isn’t for them. That person who looks I’m the mirror and doesn’t know or like the person starting back.

That person. I want to talk to them. And so should you. Take a moment and look for signs. I know you’re busy, but someone’s life is worth it.

If you ARE that person, welcome. Welcome to the conversation you never saw yourself having, but are going to be grateful that someone cared enough to have. Buckle up, and hold on. I will tell you things that you need to hear, but may not be inclined to believe. Your eyes may be clouded by the depression that catches your gaze instead. In that case, I simply want you to hear my words. You’re listening – really listening, yes?

Okay, these things I need you to hear. You are a living, breathing story. The Storm you are walking through will not last forever. It may be painful, even seemingly unbearable, as you walk the path. Though, soon, the eye of the storm will pass by. It’ll be scary, and it’ll teach you the meaning of living through pain. However, you’ll soon just look around and realize that you made it. You’re still alive. As time and distance come between you and the storm, you’ll be fascinated by the fact that you’re actually GRATEFUL that you made it – that you’re alive. You’ll look down at your scars, and you’ll immediately think of that scary storm – but, much to your surprise – you’ll see the scars for what they are. Your scars tell a story. They tell your story. They show the very real pain associated with your storm. They’ll also remind you that where there is a scar, there is some form of healing also present. You’ll look at those scars and see that they represent healing and strength. You’ll be able to see them for what they are – a reminder of that storm, but also a reminder of the strength and healing.

You know, you might have just laughed as you kept reading. I know that you may chuckle when someone is amusing enough to actually write out such words. You believe that those words might be great for other people, but can’t hold onto them as truth for yourself. You see, I understand how you think. I AM you.

However, I am also hopeful. I am hopeful that you can take a break from your thoughts, and be gentle with yourself. Know that your story matters. Know that YOU matter. It may hurt right now, but it won’t hurt forever. You may not be able to see beyond the pain, but please allow me to be a voice that speaks hope. Let that hope be fueled by love and wrap itself around you like a hug.

You and I. Maybe we are broken, but no one is telling us we can’t be broken together. Take my hand. Look me in the eye and see the hope in mine. When you can’t find yours, please borrow some of mine. I guarantee there will be times I will return the favor. Please know how much you mean to me. Please don’t go anywhere. Please stay. I need you to be my voice of hope during the moments I feel like I can’t hold on.

Hear my words. I need you and you need me. We need each other, you and I. As we walk along this path called life, take my hand. Help me walk – one for in front of the other – when I’m not even sure I can breathe. Let me do the same for you.

Together.

Let’s be broken together.

Apr20

We Hurt Because We Love

Posted on by
Standard

I think this title is self explanatory. I also believe that it needs explaining. To make this very real and expose a few more of my own emotions, I’d like to share a bit about our personal journey – about the pain, loss and love.

As yesterday’s post made it painfully evident, my daughter has passed away. I can barely utter these words, let alone write them. That said, I want to concentrate on an idea that resonates deep within me.

Our pain wouldn’t exist if we hadn’t first loved.  Where there is great pain, there is a great volume of love.

It’s true. I loved my daughter with more words than are in existence. As such, I grieve her passing with more pain and hurting than words as well. The life she lived – though short – was incredible. And full of love. If you were to ask 100 people who knew Janet what the first thing that comes to mind when thinking of her, at least 90 of them would say her smile. This child loved and breathed happy.  No matter what she faced. This was made possible, in large part, due to love. She was surrounded by love, and made it her life’s mission to also love others. It is that love that makes her absence in physical form that much more painful. We love her, and we miss her. However, her love yet remains. It always will.

At what became her final moments of life here on Earth, she had many very profound things to share. She knew that people would be sad, but didn’t want them to stay in that sadness forever. Instead, she requested that everyone Remember The Love. And, though it is also etched with pain, remembering that love is our life’s mission. Love others. Be loved. Be the love our world needs. Yes, there will be pain – but it will be matched with love. Allow that love to lead and guide you instead of the pain alone.

Apr19

A Lot Can Happen In A Year

Posted on by
Standard

If the truth is known, I have no idea even where to start. I came to realize it has been a long time since I have shared here on this page. Too long. Over a year. As such, I also know it’s not wisdom to make some promise to write every day, or heck – even every week.  Though I might do that, I reserve the right to also say that I might not.  What I do know is that I have missed sharing life with you.  So, as such, I want to share where things are right now. This may not be a very long post today.

For those of you unaware, my life and my family’s lives were thrown upside down about this same time, three years ago. We were notified that our little Janet (then 4 years old) had an aggressive brain tumor.  Three years ago, our lives changed. For three years, she courageously fought a disease that would eventually claim her life.  Yes, her life. At 7 years old, my little girl breathed her last breath this side of Heaven. She passed away February 13, 2016 – just over two short but excruciating long months ago.

Truth be told, much of the previous year was dedicated to fighting childhood cancer alongside her. Now that she is gone, that fight is far from over. I proudly stand with others who are fighting, rejoice with those who have finished treatment and live to share their stories, remember the heroes who have their ultimate and eternal healing, and pray for all who stand beside them. None who walk this path are alone. This is a fight that I continue to fight – not just because my daughter died – but also to help ensure other families do not have to walk this same heartbreak.

If you have played a part in our journey – whether small or huge – know that you are greatly appreciated. Please continue to share your love and support – your thoughts and your prayers. They sincerely mean so much.

 

Feb22

Bridging The Gap Of Faith And Reality

Posted on by
Standard

To anyone reading this, I want you to know this is going to be a transparent look at the way I think. My reality is an interesting one, and I have had a lot of opportunities to examine just how I relate to God, and to what makes up the reality of life. The overall theme of this entire blog is where faith meets reality. I’d like to create a word picture and share my heart on how this looks in real life.

If you have followed this blog for any length of time, you will know two are true about me – I have been diagnosed (years ago) with bipolar disorder, and my daughter is fighting a rare and aggressive brain cancer that once was gone and has now returned, having returned and metastasized to multiple locations down her spine.

Alone, either of these things provide enough reason to question God, and ask a multitude of questions. Together, however, things can be unbearable at times. It’s what happens during these times that define how I see the world, and even how I react to the world around me.

Let me level with you. Things have not been easy lately, incredibly difficult at times even. How do I respond though? I recognize that the God I say I know and love truly is in control. I continuously strive to do things and live within His will – knowing it is the perfect place for anyone to be. The thing is this though. His will and my will are often not the same. They may differ only slightly, or there may be huge differences. The question I always have to look at is if I truly believe the things I say about Him. This is the place where the virtual rubber meets the road.

As for me, I make a conscious decision very regularly to remember these things I have come to know as the truth. I know that God is still good, that He is still in control (even when I’m not), and ultimately He IS in control.

Let’s talk about bipolar disorder for just a moment. That is a title, a label that describes why certain things are the way they are for some individuals. Things are difficult to imagine, unless this is something you have personally walked through in some capacity. I recently heard someone I love and respect say “these people” referring to people who deal with mental illness, bipolar disorder specifically. It was a negative connotation stemming from personal experience with someone who chooses not to take care of them self, and in so doing hurt innocent people who surround them. Being lumped in with “those people” initially bothered me. However, it also made me realize that there is something altogether different about the bipolar person who doesn’t care, and the one who does. That alone is one reason I choose to take care of myself, and to seek help when help is needed…and believe me, it IS needed more often than I’d like to admit. However, as such, it’s okay to not always be okay – it’s just what I CHOOSE to do, or to surround myself with, during these times that either breaks me down or builds me up.

This is the same concept that goes hand in hand with watching your own child fight aggressive cancer not once, but twice at this point. It hurts, and the emotions that go hand in hand with this are unimaginable. People often tell me they cannot imagine what we go and walk through just daily. That’s good. I don’t WANT people to have to understand.

Imagine being told that your child has cancer. That’s difficult, to say the least. Imagine, then, the joy that goes along with hearing that the cancer is gone – no evidence of the disease. Imagine the cancer being gone, and treatment being complete. There is unimaginable joy that goes along with these scenarios, let me tell you.

However, try to not understand the emotions that go along with hearing that the cancer is back, this time having spread. Add to that, that one part of treatment is aimed at curing the disease, while the follow on part of treatment is aimed at being more palliative in nature – helping her live with this as long as she can. That, my friend, it’s a hard thing to hear, hard facts to swallow.

Where does God and my faith come into play here? It all goes back to that moment where I either trust God, or I don’t. I recognize that, without a miracle that only can come through God’s hands, my daughter’s long term survival isn’t fully expected. It’s hoped for, but in medical eyes, Just not a realistic expectation. I know, without a doubt, that God can supernaturally heal her – with or without medical treatment.

I KNOW that He is able. However, for whatever reason, He doesn’t every single time. I’ve walked this road with other families who have children who have valiantly fought but completed their fight on this side of Heaven. They die before they’ve had a chance to really live life. Watching other families – ones filled with incredible faith and never-ending hope for healing (while on earth) for their child – is incredibly difficult. To know that God is in control, and that He has the capability to heal – but doesn’t always doesn’t make it any easier when He doesn’t. For whatever reason, God’s plan often doesn’t look the same as the plan we’d choose if given the option. No one would wish death from cancer on anyone, let alone an innocent child. However – the reality is that it does happen…and more often than anyone realizes.

The fact of the matter is that God IS still good, and He still loves me (and you) when it’s hard to see or to feel it. To realize that He is in control and that His plan is the best isn’t always easy, but it IS ALWAYS worth it.

I will not ever stop praying and hoping for total and complete healing for my daughter – and for all fighting cancer – until there is no longer a reason…until cancer is completely cured once and for all, or until she is in Heaven – – at which time I will forever seek that cure for others. I will never give up the faith that God IS in control, and my prayer will remain that this whole situation is in His hands and that His will is for her to live a full life, one completely free of any cancer or disease. That is, and will remain, the reality I hope and pray for for her…and all the others fighting this monster. Thank you for being alongside us on this fight.

If this post has spoken to you – for whatever reason – I’d like to know. If you just need a friend, or a listening ear, I’d be honored to play that part in your story. Please feel free to post below in comments, or to message me through the contact me form. It’d be an honor to connect.

Similarly, I am sincerely grateful to each and every person walking with us on this journey, even when it’s just plain difficult to walk. For all the kind words, and all the prayers, I’m forever grateful.

Sep12

With Childlike Faith – Fighting Childhood Cancer

Posted on by
Standard

My daughter has such heart. She has a joy and just the positive spirit that she takes with her everywhere! This little girl has a smile that will light up any room. Her no-nonsense and innocent look at life is heartwarming beyond words. Children, especially those fighting big battles, just have a different perspective than anyone else alive does.

With all this said, I’d like to fill you in on some of the details of our recent history.

As you may have heard by now, our little Janet’s cancer is back, and things don’t look good in a lot of areas. First, I am going to share all that with you – then I am going to tell you were we stand on everything about to be mentioned.

We all knew that it was a possibility that her cancer could one day come back. No one, and I mean no one thought it would so soon. Dealing with a recurrent / metastatic cancer is not good. Learning that she will endure cranio spinal radiation for over a month (every weekday) is also not fun. The follow on treatment will be an outpatient chemo therapy regimen.

Let me explain her treatment plan. For four and a half weeks, Janet will undergo radiation therapy. This time, there will be mostly proton beam radiation, with “normal” radiation a few times. There are said to be normally more side effects with this because a different type of radiation, as well as a larger part of her being treated. The goal of hre radiation is to shrink and make disappear the tumors… also to preferably kill their opportunity to every even possibly return.

After radiation, the protocol is that she will go through an outpatient chemo therapy regimen. This will include daily (Monday through Friday) outpatient chemo. One week. Then, she’ll have approximately 2-3 weeks off, and then do the same thing again. Aside from that, every two weeks, she’ll have a one hour outpatient chemo administered – separate from the others. As I have learned, this chemo therapy regimen is more aimed as being palliative support, or a quality of life kind of thing – as versus curative.

If you’re like 99.99% of everyone else reading this, you may be wondering about alternative protocols or treatment options. You may have suggestions on where else we can seek treatment on behalf of our little Janet. I want you to know, we have gotten multiple second opinions – from the nations leading hospitals and have involved the nation (I’d say even the world’s) top medical minds in this situation, and in her care – simply because her tumor / cancer IS one of a kind. Nothing like it exists in the world. I spoke with another hospital again today, and heard the exact same news as all others have said – St. Louis Children’s Hospital has her with a protocol they’re comfortable with, would recommend themselves, and has state of the art equipment. There are other alternative therapies that we are also looking into, just to ensure we do all that we can to help our little princess do her best.

The entire point I am making is that we have faith and confidence in Janet’s medical team here at Children’s. Never did we doubt them. We sought second opinions just to ensure everyone was on the same page. We do NOT like the page everyone is on, but there is a certain amount of peace knowing that the medical minds agree – as to both what we’re looking at, as well as treatment options, etc.

Now, with all that said, I want you to know that we have not given up – and we will not EVER give up. In fact, we KNOW without even the shadow of a doubt that our God is greater than ANY cancer, any tumor, or any issue Janet faces. Regardless of what the situation looks like, we KNOW that God IS in control. His hands are clearly seen in just about every aspect of this journey. That’s not to say that Him being in control makes it any easier to deal with — but it does make it easier to walk through. We don’t LIKE the situation Janet is in right now, but we do trust God 100% with her situation, and her very life. All of our lives. Her life, and her battle with cancer is part of a bigger story – one bigger than her, than us, or than anyone can imagine. I have that faith. What exactly that means, I do not know. However, I do know that I am grateful to have the strength that comes from the living God we trust. I do not know what tomorrow will bring, but I refuse to allow the fear (like I’ve said before) to rob and steal the joy from today.

For those of you inclined to pray, know that your thoughts and prayers are valued.

Aug20

What It Looks Like To Lose Your Identity – From Bipolar To Cancer Mom To…

Posted on by
Standard

As this title might elude to, I’m about to share a little bit about what it looks like inside my head. Buckle up. This is going to be a fun ride.

My blog has not been active in some time. I’m not going to make some promises to post a certain amount a week or month, or anything really. I am going to write from my heart. It may be multiple times a day, and it may be only once in a blue moon. What I can tell you is that I have been struggling – not for words, but to figure out who I am. Let me explain.

As you know, or may not know, my five year old daughter has been fighting cancer. She had a brain tumor removed from her head. She had daily radiation for six weeks, and she then had a high dose chemo therapy regimen. To make a long story short, they threw all they had at it, with the hopes that something was the right answer. You see, the cancer she had growing was literally thought to be one of a kind. Her tumor and info was sent all over the place, in search of second, third or tenth opinions. We’re talking worldwide experts. No name for this unique thing. As such, we held our breath, and above all else, prayed. This past January, she completed treatment! Thank God! In February, her scans showed no evidence of the disease. It showed the cancer didn’t appear to have even ever been there! Again, thanking God!! Then, in May, her scans showed spots on her spine. Those spots were consistent with drop metastasis. In other words, it looked like a cancer that had metastasized and spread to her spine. But, there was a silver lining – it also might NOT be that. It could just be enlarged blood vessel(s) and we had no way of knowing for sure at that point. Even if it WAS cancer, it would have been too small to do anything with, or biopsy, etc. So, we wait. Three months, and we wait. Tomorrow, actually, she will have more scans to look and see what we are dealing with – which, obviously, we hope is nothing. In fact, our prayer is to have the scans, and see NONE of the spots previously seen.

That was the back and lead up explanation to what I am about to share with you. I can pretty much say that I am a picture perfect example of what it looks like to lose your identity.

One more back story. Many of you know, and some of you don’t. However, instead of hiding behind a mask of “everything is okay all the time” I want to be transparent about something. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Okay, fine. Go look it up. No, wait…it’s best you don’t. That said, it’s something – just the diagnosis – that I struggled with for a very long time. Years. Until recent history that I really figured out that it was just a diagnosis. It was not me. It is part of who I am, but not my identity. At least I thought. I do struggle with depression. I have also learned that I’m not alone in that. Depression is a real thing. It affects more people than you’d realize, or even care to think about. It hurts. Again, it became my identity for some time.

So, through these two examples alone, you can see that my life is definitely not boring. There are times, I long for a much more boring time.

The issue and problem is that we often will allow life’s circumstances – those curveballs that life tosses our direction – we often allow those things to define us. They become who we are. They become our identity. Then, when life changes, or circumstances take on a different shape, we tend to lose a part of ourselves. At least, it’s clear that I do. Let me explain.

When my daughter was diagnosed with cancer, I became a cancer mom. I became a cancer awareness fighter. I became a voice for children who battle childhood cancer. I became a person who spent more time in the hospital, even during holidays, than at home – at least it seemed at times. I realized that we had almost a second home away from home. Childhood cancer. It was who we became, and the fight we fought. We lived and breathed it (through all the tests, scans, hospital stays) with every breath. Then, THANK GOD, my daughter had clean scans. No evidence of the disease. No more daily / weekly / monthly tests, scans, radiation, chemo, etc. No more hospital stays. No more cancer, right now. Of course, I was elated. Beyond all measure. My daughter was free to live, breathe and run around and just well, be a kid! Yes, she would struggle with the aftermath of having had radiation and chemo, but she was HERE. She is alive!

But, now what!? Now where do I go? Now, who am I? These are all questions I never actually ASKED, but realized were present – asking themselves. I have come to realize that my identity was set in those things. It, rightfully so, consumed my days. Now, though – now that she is not fighting this disease, what’s a girl to do? I have to embrace this “new normal” as life again. I have to figure out what our current “normal” is and go from there. I won’t lie. It’s not easy. It is, however necessary.

I have, just in the past couple of days, sat down. With myself, and with my thoughts. I dug deep, and thought clearly – back to a time where I felt okay, good even. What I came to realize wasn’t shocking, but it was good to remember. I was the happiest when I was reaching out to others. When I took my own time, and gave it to others. When I took time, became a volunteer, and just reached out to others – helping THEM smile, it helped me. My hurting heart was calm again. It would bring me joy to see joy in someone else’s face. To know I had made a difference – that made a difference in ME.

So, two days ago, I went back to one place where I have felt me. I went to the YMCA. We have long since (over a year) not had a membership. Recently, my husband lost his job, and so a YMCA membership was something we couldn’t fathom, let alone afford. Still, though, I had to connect. I asked if I could volunteer again. I asked if I could just reach out, even during times that I might be hurting, because people (myself included) need people. I mentioned that I know God created us as community people, and I need that too. So, I turned in a volunteer application packet, and will soon be able to volunteer. I guess, to some, it may seem odd to be so excited about the ability to donate my time to make a difference in this community, and in other people’s lives. But, it isn’t at all silly. It’s real. I firmly believe that the heart of a hurting person can be brought so much joy from reaching out and serving others in such a way that life becomes about someone other than themselves.

I’ve learned that I may not have a rock solid identity, but I do know that there are things that make a difference. My purpose, through it all, however, remains. My purpose is to share smiles, and to share hope. It is to realize that in my not being alone, NO ONE in the world needs to feel alone. People – every person alive or dead – is or has a story. Every person alive is a living breathing story. Their story matters. Their life matters. THEY matter. That, and their story isn’t finished being written yet! The current chapter is JUST ONE chapter in a much larger – yet to be completed – book.

If you made it this far in reading this blog post, know that you have my gratitude. If you are hurting and not sure what your purpose in life is or where to find your identity, hold on. You’re still there. You’re still you. Don’t give up. YOUR life matters. Your hopes and dreams matter. Your story isn’t finished. Don’t give up! If you are hurting, or just want to chat, please don’t hesitate to seek help. Know, also, that I’m happy to talk it out if you’d like to post below or send me a message via my “contact me” page. I am grateful to not do life alone, and would be honored to walk alongside you in your journey as well!

May8

Learning To Love The Lemonade

Posted on by
Standard

Have you heard the age-old saying “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” or have you been fortunate enough to not hear that comment at every turn – especially when life isn’t so awesome!? Don’t get me wrong. I believe this statement is a good thing to remember – to look at the bright side, and not always dwell on the “lemons” that life hurls towards you.

I’d like to share somewhat of a life update, and give you a very practical update on how you can enjoy the tasty lemonade, even in the middle of sour lemons!

For those unaware of our family situation, my daughter has battled a rare and aggressive brain cancer. She had a brain tumor that was surgically removed, and then followed through with six weeks of daily radiation. After the completion of radiation, she underwent a high dose chemo therapy regimen. We’re ecstatic to say that our five year old daughter has completed treatment. At the end of treatment, her MRI/scans showed no evidence of the disease. She was deemed “cancer free” and we celebrate! We have scans coming up in two weeks to verify that she remains cancer free, and no recurrence.

Watching my child fight cancer has been the single most difficult thing I have ever walked through. As such, I have also learned to CHOOSE to see the good in things…to see a bright side in a dark room. So, let me share a little story with you.

As a “cancer kid,” my daughter was connected with Make A Wish. She was given the opportunity to make a wish. She could dream big. Her wish, like so many other little kiddos, was to go to Disney World, and to get the opportunity to meet the “real” princesses. We actually just went out of town last week for Janet’s wish trip. We did not post openly, or share online until our return. We were not trying to hide anything, but rather security conscious. We opted to not share openly so our house wasn’t a target for those who would seek to do harm. We are back now, and updates – we have plenty! This post, in fact, will be a summary of how things, even amazing things like a wish trip, can sometimes not go as planned — and how you can make a conscious decisions to make the lemonade instead of sulking and drowning in the sorrows of what could have been.

I would like to take you back to the day we left. That day started off magically. Our family was picked up and escorted to the airport in a limo! The awe of it all was precious to watch. The amazement in the children’s eyes was priceless. As we were whisked away, we just enjoyed the moment. We were all together as a family, and were at the beginning of what was pegged to be a magical vacation. As we got to the airport, but before boarding the plane, we noticed a small rash on one of our son’s wrists. Nothing big, but we kept an eye on it. We thought perhaps there was a couple of bug bites. That’s all it looked like. By the time we arrived in Orlando, it had spread a bit. As we checked into our magical village, Give Kids The World, we noticed it had continued to spread. The only troubling factor was that it spread all over his entire body, the palms of his hands and soles of his feet included. That evening, we contacted his pediatrician, and were urged to go to the local emergency room. So, we went to Arnold Palmer hospital for Children. Thankfully, we met some amazing and kind people. But, true to form as it seems to go with our family and medical “issues” – they were a little bit baffled by what was going on. His lymph nodes were a bit swollen, but that was chalked up to a recent strep throat infection. He’d been on antibiotics, and initially they thought a possible medication reaction, but that seemed to be also incorrect. They made mention of leukemia and also Rocky Mountain spotted fever, but said both were extremely unlikely, as there wasn’t other tell tale symptoms accompanying his rash. They also said it would be pointless to test at that point, as he’d so recently had the strep infection. We had four different doctors, and three separate nurses come by to check him out. They were baffled, but weren’t overly concerned. That said, there wasn’t much they could do, but did give us benedryl and send us on our merry way. We were told not to go out in a whole lot of public places for at least the next day or so, and until his rash started getting better not worse. So, that is what we did. We kept him home while his sister and brother went out and about and did a few things. We had some good time to bond, and just rest and relax together. While that started our trip, that would not bring us down.

The weather. We anticipated Florida being hot and sunny. We definitely got the first half of that equation. From the moment we got off the plane, we noted how muggy and hot it was. We also surmised it would likely rain or storm soon. What we didn’t know was just how much of our trip would be covered by this kind of weather! That first evening, we had a severe thunderstorm warning, along with a flood warning. We remained safe, but that was not the most fun time ever. When there was a break, I took the munchkin (Janet’s brother) to the hospital. That next morning, she and her brother went with their daddy to have some fun. There was a playground that is a life sized Candy Land play area. They were very excited to go there, but unfortunately it was closed due to inclement weather – previous, and evidently what was to come. So, they had a variety of other mostly indoor fun.

The next day was pretty much a repeat of that first day, weather wise. There were severe storms, and lots of lightening/thunder. At this point though, we were determined to not allow the weather to get the best of us. Jeremy’s rash was looking better as well, and so we made the trip to the Disney parks. We went to Epcot to start our adventure. Unfortunately, a decent amount was closed due to the weather. This, however, would not stop us from having fun and making those special memories. We had a blast, and got to experience some pretty cool Disney magic. Again, the weather prevented some of the attractions from working. A show or two were cancelled because they were solar powered, and there just was too much cloud cover to allow for enough energy and such. No worries, we’d still keep on keeping on! That evening, we made the decision to stay until the park closed, and watch the light / fireworks show. That was spectacular. Thankfully, the weather held off long enough to really enjoy that, and to get back to the vehicle. The light show mixed with the beautiful fireworks were awesome – and just the perfect mixture of fun to put a kid TO SLEEP!! Janet was out like a light – for the majority of the show. She was exhausted. Her little body isn’t used to so much activity. She was okay, just tired. We did take lots and lots of pictures, and video recorded the entire thing. We will watch it with her later. She seemed just fine with that idea!

The next day, and for the three days that would follow, we had more storms and rain. Lots and lots of rain. In fact, the first day we saw the sun peeking out of the clouds was the day before our departure. Not to worry. We learned to sing and dance in the rain – literally and figuratively. We went to Downtown Disney. Janet went to the Bibbidy Bobbidy Boutique, where she had her makeup and nails done, and was transformed into a little princess. Her princess makeover also included having her hair done. Well, she was concerned because she has virtually no hair. That was not a worry, however. The fairy helpers were so kind and had the perfect wig to complete her beautiful new look. She got to be princess Aurora as Sleeping Beauty. To watch her excitement through the process brought (happy) tears to my eyes. She knows without even the shadow of a doubt that she is beautiful, inside and out — and that hair isn’t the make or break point in being beautiful. She did, however, quite enjoy the wig and new look. She enjoyed the glamour and excitement of being a princess. She got to wear her wig, new dress and wand around for all to see. She even perfected the princess wave. That lasted for approximately ten minutes – until the wig was scratchy, and she wanted it off. No worries. She was beautiful beyond words, and was having fun. From there, we got to go run through the rain for a Disney princess photo shoot! We could have complained because of the crazy amount of rain, but we opted to have a good time, despite the stormy weather. She had her pictures taken without the wig, and was so happy to do so! After all, it captured HER right now…at this moment…with the fuzzy new hair she’s currently sporting.

From there, we went to a glamorous lunch. Well, that was the theory at least. In reality, it was overpriced, overcooked and not worth it. However, it was Disney, and we weren’t going to let over-priced less than exciting food ruin the rainy day. Instead, we let the kids get special drinks (Italian sodas for one, chocolate milk for one, and cranberry juice for the princess) and just enjoyed each other’s company.

The next day, we went to Universal Studios. We figured that would be a great place when the weather was still supposed to be rainy. We were told most of the attractions were either inside or under cover. And they were. It was the distance BETWEEN them that made us realize that it may or may not have been the best option. It was fine, however. We got to go on several rides and saw several attractions. There will be lots of pictures and videos to come. There were only a few rides that we took that Janet could not ride, due to being little. With this said, it was likely for the best because she’s too young to enjoy or not be scared by some of them anyway. We were able to just relax and spend time together as a family.

The following day was spent at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. One thing that I was determined we’d share as a family was “It’s a Small World” ride/attraction. I did that with my family when I was very little, and I wanted to share this magical experience with my own family. So, that was actually the first thing we decided to do at Magic Kingdom. We boarded the boat, and had a thrilling and relaxing little adventure. Janet lit up, and was in awe of every part of the ride. Her brothers even had a great time! When she was looking one direction, and her brothers thought she was in danger of missing something – they’d make sure she turned to look. We have lots of pictures, and also video from that experience as well. From there, we went to the big carousel. She and her brothers all wanted to ride a horsey. On our way to the entrance, we ran into a princess. She met Janet, and learned that we were there for her Make A Wish trip, and she took us just across the patio area to a very special spot – with the Magic Kingdom castle as a backdrop. That was neat. She had an onlooker use my phone to capture the picture, so I could be IN the picture WITH the kiddos. That was so neat. We then rode the merry go round. From there, we went to the Princess autograph and picture taking adventure. Janet got to meet the princess from Frozen, as well as Aurora. It was very neat for her, and for all of us. Pictures, of course, are coming! We went on lots of rides that day, and spent much quality time together. The kids all really enjoyed both Thunder Mountain and then Splash Mountain. After that, and to conclude our fun for the day, we took the train back to Main Street, so as to experience seeing the park from the train as a vantage point. That was also a neat experience.

Walking. Together, we did lots of walking. (We did have a stroller to use for Janet, and she was allowed to have her stroller function as a wheelchair when needed because she lacked enough energy to do a full day of fun, much less walking.) That came in quite handy, truth be told. There were times she wanted to be strolled, and there were times she wanted to be held/carried. There were not that many times that she actually wanted to walk. That was okay though…we took turns holding her, or letting her ride. Through it all, we were grateful to be there, and for the opportunity that had been afforded to our family.

Our final day, we had a flight late in the day, so decided to make one more adventuresome day. We went to Sea World. Though we didn’t have a full day, we got to see dolphins and flamingos. In all honesty, we weren’t able to go on a lot of rides, as Janet was too small for much of it, and we didn’t want to be drenched. So, we just enjoyed the surrounding area of the park, relaxed at an underground cove, and watched dolphins from below ground. That was a really cool experience.

Sadly, it was time to head to our departure. I wish I could tell you that it was an exciting time. The airlines welcomed us as a Make A Wish family, and that was neat. We had help when needed, and finally got to our gate for departure. As soon as we took our bathroom break, and got to our gate, it was time to board. We boarded and got comfortable. One disappointing thing we discovered when we landed was that one of our carry on bags had been misplaced, and likely left at the departure gate in Orlando. So, that was lovely. It was an important carry on, and included the kids and my medications. Thankfully, we have extras, and have filed the report to hopefully be reunited with our missing bag soon. We’re hoping this is a quick process. There were meds, kids toys, and some spare clothing in that mix. After baggage claim, a nice man greeted us, and took us off to the limo. We completed our Make A Wish trip with a limo ride home. It was beautiful, neat, and overall – amazing. We weren’t happy the magical trip had concluded, but were extremely happy to see our home.

That was until we walked inside. It was fine…or at least seemed that way. As we flushed the toilet, and attempted to refill my water bottle. It was at this moment that we discovered that the water had been cut off in our absence. We had made the payment online, and instead of that working, it evidently hadn’t gone through after all. So, yeah – that was a lovely welcome home surprise. Again, it was another opportunity to sip on the freshly squeezed lemonade. First thing this morning, we contacted the water company, and needed to go in person to make the payment. They assured us it would be turned on quickly, and apologized for the welcome home the way that it was! It wasn’t a bad transaction, and connecting with them wasn’t a hard process. It was annoying to have to go through, but hey – now we have water again. As we were trying to get them paid, we noted that the card we were using was denied. It turns out that having fraud protection is a great thing. Since there was questionable activity (we traveled outside our home and adjoining states) our accounts were temporarily frozen. I do say it was good to have this, because we realized that if our stuff had actually been stolen, having that protection in place is priceless. Just not when trying to get life back to normal, and payments processed! Not to worry, we did get that all taken care of. Now we have water again!

What was truly beautiful was watching our kids have fun – together – without the worry or concern of radiation, chemo or a hospital stay. Just watching my little girl, and her brothers be KIDS…kids being kids….that was and is priceless. So, while life gave us lemons, we enjoyed the lemonade.

I’d like to personally say thank you for the continued thoughts and prayers surrounding Janet, this trip, and our entire family. We are sincerely grateful for each and every person who connects with this blog and also Janet’s Facebook page. (Found at http://www.facebook.com/prayingforlittlejanet)