Monday was our first follow-up visit with both the radiation and chemotherapy teams since Jim completed his treatments on May 28th. Basically, the visit was to determine the extent of healing that has taken place in Jim’s mouth as well as his ability to eat since he’s still using a feeding tube for all nourishment. Jim has lost a total of 44 pounds since the beginning of this second go around with cancer.
We are considering another type of therapy in the interim between the last treatment Jim had, and the scans that are scheduled two to three months up the road. However, we are still gathering information and haven’t made a decision about that yet. Additionally, we’ve also been looking into implementing alternative and homeopathic protocols in order to strengthen Jim’s immune system. This is an area that is fairly new to us so we are trying to learn as much as possible and implement what we can as soon as possible. He is still very weak, extremely tired, and he’s not himself — but he’s still “Kelly Tough,” focused on God and the goal line, and victory. He always has and always will persevere and fight the good fight.
Most importantly, he is healing.
It’s a tough time for us, but we are encouraged and hopeful. We’re not grasping at straws, but instead resting in the reality that God is presiding over our destiny, He didn’t fall off the throne in shock and surprise at Jim’s diagnosis, and He hasn’t changed, meaning He still has a perfect plan in the midst of all this.
That being said, it’s…
One day at a time.
One prayer at a time.
All in God’s timing…
And so we wait.
Wait for test and scan results.
Wait to find out if the treatments worked.
Wait to heal.
I’m sitting here sharing this update and standing on His promises…But to be honest with you I’m just really sad. Sad that Jim has to go through this. Sad because my girls are sad and they don’t know exactly what to do with their tears. And I feel like most of the time I don’t know how to help them because I’m dealing with my own sorrow.
Honestly, the thing that makes all of this even harder is the fact that I know beyond a shadow of doubt that God is who He says He is. I know that we are not waiting on a result or scan or anything or anyone else for that matter — we’re waiting on God.
I also know that He already KNOWS the outcome — and that that should be enough for me. And I guess that’s what makes this all so hard and yet so comforting.
My hope in the God who holds the universe and my heart and our lives in His hand is the same God that is big enough for moments like this.
Moments when I’m confused and sad.
Moments when I feel like He’s not moving and healing even though He absolutely is.
Moments when I’m trying so hard to hang on to faith when all I really need to do is let go — and let God.
This is where I am right now. These are the things I’m wrestling with. And even in this, God is greater…
Greater than cancer.
Greater than the outcome.
Greater than this life and the life to come.
Greater than my heart and hopes and dreams.
He’s greater still.
And because of this, I can say like the Psalmist, with complete conviction — whether I feel like it or not, “But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who long for your saving help always say, ‘The Lord is great!’” (Psalm 70:4)