waves

Lately I've been thinking a lot about how cancer has impacted our life. I've had this imagery in my mind of the big beautiful ocean, and it's waves steadily hitting the beach - in and out, back and forth. Most of our daily life feels a lot like that - fairly steady and routine. Things are sort of rolling along, and though life is impacted by Ethan's treatment on a daily basis, it's thankfully not always taking center stage all of the time. 

And then sometimes, seemingly out of nowhere, the waves aren't so steady and rolling, but instead will suddenly take me under. I like to call this cancer PTSD. It might happen when I really think about what's happened this last year. It happens when I think about the future sometimes. There's a trigger, and suddenly I'm immersed in the grief pool, pulled under by a wave of sadness. 

It's ironic that I've been thinking of that imagery lately, because today was one of those "pull me under" days. Ethan woke up this morning and was definitely out of sorts - super tired and lethargic, complaining of some belly pain. He didn't have a fever so it was a toss up on whether or not to bring him in, but we decided to go in just to check, and of course he perked up quite a bit by the time we got to the hospital - so much so that I felt a little silly for bringing him in. We had labs done and a quick check up, with the decided culprit of his symptoms being a combo of a virus and allergies.

Ethan was so excited that Eloise came with today! And she stuck pretty close to her big brother, who loved showing her the ropes at his hospital. :)

Later today his nurse practitioner called with his lab results. His ANC is pretty high right now, which is likely due to the virus that he's probably got going on. But his labs also showed some potential issues going on with his liver. Which could be because of a virus. Or just a fluke thing that normalizes. Or because of the chemotherapy that's taking a toll on his liver.

Now, here's the thing: We don't know what's going on. It might all be just fine, or there might be more to investigate and figure out. At this point we don't need to adjust any of his medicines or really do anything, other than wait a week and recheck his labs. But the reality of a concerning lab result to a cancer mom like me is one of those waves that today, took me under. It's an in my face reality of my precious boy fighting a terrible disease with medicine that is incredibly powerful but can also be damaging to his body.

But, here's the other thing, you guys: God continues to meet me in the depths of this journey. He doesn't leave me in my grief. His presence is real. 

Last week a couple of friends from my community group and I were meeting for our usual weekly morning coffee and prayer time and we got to talking about God's power and His love. That His love is present in the depths of our suffering, and that He doesn't abandon us in these places. We were refreshed to read in Romans 8:31-39:

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;

    we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (ESV)

At coffee that morning, my friends and I read these words and prayed for each other. And then when I got home, my exuberant and joy-filled Ethan just so happened to be belting out a song about God's love - "Your Love Never Fails." Like from the top of his lungs. This afternoon I thought of that song and my precious boy singing it, and oh what truth for my soul. Because you know what, you guys? God has not failed us. And he is with us, in the joy and in the sorrow. 

And when the oceans rage, I don't have to be afraid. Because I know that you love me - your love never fails. (Lyrics, Your Love Never Fails).

(I wish I would have gotten Ethan singing on video that morning, but since I didn't, here's a link to the song for you to take a listen if you'd like. It's on our family playlist almost every day. :) 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IoezWBPGRAc )

I am going to ask y'all to pray for Ethan and am thankful that you will. Please pray that his liver will be protected, that it will continue to function properly, and for good lab results at our recheck next week. Pray also for this virus to pass quickly and for his counts to get back to a normal range. And for protection for all of us against fear and anxiety.