Two more days!

Lydia, Connor, Sam, and I are getting excited, and I'm sure Deb and Biz are getting itchy feet. After today's treatment (which may have already happened) there are just two cycles left: Wednesday and Thursday. I don't think they'll be disappointed to leave the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, though as Deb and Biz say goodbye, it will be with much gratitude in our hearts. The Lord has carried us, and especially Biz, through these days and he has used some great people and competent medical professionals in Houston along the way. Although this won't be "the end" of medical attention to address Biz's cancer and the side effects of her treatment, we have (Lord willing) jumped the major hurdle.
On Friday, the girls will say goodbye to the Pogues, and fly home. The Pogues' sacrifice on our behalf is well-noted, and our gratitude could not be greater--imagine having your life disrupted by a second family under your roof. I've always been told that fish and visitors stink after three days (a view which I find disconcertingly inhospitable...), but after two months anyone should be "sainted" or "knighted" or some similar thing.
Deb and Biz will touch down at 3:06pm. The kids and I will meet them at the airport and (imagine this) come straight home. We hope to bring them back to a warm, clean, comfortable home--the one they remember. There have been points over the last two months when Deb would not have recognized the place, but with a little attention over the next couple days we should pass muster. I know that Deb wouldn't care or complain, she'll just be glad to be home. But after all she's had on her plate for the last couple of months (along with an increased appreciation on my part for all that she does), I hope to make the transition an easy one. We'll call it the "Love Language" of house cleaning.
For Biz, the transition will be from "only child" to daughter with siblings. That's where life will become normal again--for all the kids--and thank God for normal.

She would dance if I asked her to dance (not that I would, the time isn't right for dancing yet:), but that should give you an idea what a better day yesturday turned out to be. I know she is still tired, but she's also seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We go home a week from today.
We are so grateful to our hosts, John and Charlsie Pogue, who have been absolutely wonderful to us. Biz has enjoyed countless games of dominoes with John, and Charlsie has spoiled her with shopping trips and visits to Starbucks. They are both extremely caring people who overwhelmingly took us into their hearts and lives. We couldn't have asked for a better stay in Houston. We'll miss them. But we still look forward, with anticipation, to going home. Only seven days to go.

I thought I (Debbie) would be better at updating you on our last few days here in Houston since I am here with Biz. To all of you who have been praying, we are extremely grateful. Yesterday and today have been pain free for Biz. The night before last she was up in the middle of the night for 2 hours because the pain was so severe. We talked to the doctor today and he said that even though pain is a hard thing to predict, it could get worse, and it would be normal if it did. That was a bummer to hear, but I know that the Lord is not subject to "normal", so I am counting on your prayers for Him to do what would be abnormal and even supernatural on Biz's behalf. As I was running this morning I wondered how much pain he has kept her from already. I guess we'll find out when we get to heaven.

Although Biz did not have any pain today, we had a struggle of a different kind tonight. She had a major meltdown over wanting to go home. She has made occasional comments all along about missing friends and not being with her brothers and sister, but tonight she just kept crying, "Why can't we go home today?" For those of you who know me very well, I am not the best comforter. And for those of you who know Biz very well, she's not much of a crier. What a combo. I wasn't sure what to say. The thoughts going through my mind came out of my mouth, though maybe they shouldn't have. I answered her with the facts of how many more treatment sessions we have and how the doctors know what is best, so we can't go home yet. Of course I walked away feeling completely inadequate. Did I say the right thing? Should I have said nothing at all? I did pray with her, and hug her. But I sure would appreciate your prayers that I would be able to provide the comfort and encouragement she needs. We are counting down the days until we are back home on the island.

The Highs and the Lows and the Lord in both

Deb, Biz, and I had a few good days together in Houston before I left them on Friday to return to the island. Since then I've been in a melancholy funk. I don't want to use the word "depressed" because of its technical denotation, but I have been sad. One reason for my sadness is that in the last few days before my departure Biz began experiencing some of the difficulty of radiation. Nothing dramatic, just redness and swelling around her eye, but as the intensity of treatment increases with each successive cycle, all human assessment would conclude that it will become even more difficult for her. I don't want Biz to struggle through this. I have even prayed that the Lord would let me feel the struggle instead of Biz. Perhaps that's the reason for the sadness--part of the struggle. It may be important for Biz to struggle and through that find strength in Christ--the Lord knows best--but I'd ask you to pray for her comfort and peace in Christ.
Another reason for sadness is the toll that this process has taken on our family. When it's all said and done, normal family life will have been disrupted for four months. In many ways this has made us stronger, in some ways it has revealed weaknesses that lay hidden, and in a few ways it has weakened us. Satan is cunning and would love to use the latter two to our harm. But as I studied for yesterday's sermon I was reminded continually:

Isaiah 43:1-7
But now, this is what the LORD says-- he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; I give Egypt for your ransom, Cush and Seba in your stead.
Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, I will give men in exchange for you, and people in exchange for your life.
Do not be afraid, for I am with you; I will bring your children from the east and gather you from the west.
I will say to the north, 'Give them up!' and to the south, 'Do not hold them back.'
Bring my sons from afar and my daughters from the ends of the earth--everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made."

The Lord's children are precious and honored in his sight. It is clear from the surrounding context of this passage that this status is not a consequence of our merits or effort. Rather, it is because the Lord chose us and called each of us by name--not generically, as if a great call goes out to all mankind and we are free to choose him or not; but specifically, He chose certain ones for himself and his glory and establishes a relationship with them. He formed and created a distinct people for Himself, and He is even willing to sacrifice others for our rescue--even sacrificing His own Son. So our strength and perseverance is not assured by our desire, but by God's desire. We belong to the Lord, and He doesn't like others messing with his stuff. Like a tattered and dirty childhood doll, our value and protection is not the result of our inherent value, but of the value placed upon us and the love invested in us by our Owner.
There is also no abandonment in the fire and in the waters. Fire and waters are assured. The Lord does not say, "If..." He says "When..." But he says, "Do not be afraid, for I am with you." We're never left alone on the journey. Christ says, "I chose you, and I take very good care of my stuff." So we're not going to lose. We just may need to learn to swim a little bit. Please pray for our faith and perseverance.
For those of you who may be forgetting what Biz looks like, I've pasted a few pictures. They're somewhat dated but you'll get the point. It's a great reminder of the blessing God has given us in our daughter, and of just how much more we'd be willing to endure for her sake.

Transition

Another transition week has come. Deb will arrive in Houston on Tuesday to take over duties here and I'll return on Friday to take over at home. Deb will then stay until the end, returning home, Lord-willing, on Feb. 2. What a great day that will be!
Everything in Houston appears to be going better than expected. Treatments go on as usual, and Biz has had little to no negative side-effects from her treatment. I am surprised, however, at how many times the computers that operate the proton generators shut down/crash. With the millions and millions (billions?) of dollars that go into such a facility, you'd think it'd be more seemless--I guess a computer is the weak link in most areas. When the computers go down here it doesn't usually take very long to get everything back on line, and I guess it gives the world's I.T. guys some job security, I just didn't expect it at what seems to be the apex of modern technology. One more reason to look forward to heaven--no need for computers!

Praises and prayer needs

Wouldn't you know it--I have a cousin in Texas! And he has four horses! We hadn't seen each other for 30 years and, until my dad called to tell me that Dana lives in Caldwell, TX, about 90 miles away, I had no idea (the Lord knows everything, however, even where to place cousins). So, with the mention of horses, it was a relatively easy task to convince Biz that we should go visit Dana and his family, which we did this past weekend. It was my first opportunity to see some of the beauty of the Texas countryside. Though it's nothing like the Northwest, it has a beauty of its own (which was undoubtedly accentuated by the saddle). Dana's son, Phil, is a student at Texas A&M in their computer progamming department so we also got to spend some time messing around with a Wii and playing (very poorly) Guitar Hero. It was a fun and relaxing weekend.
On Monday we had our weekly meeting with Dr. Kornguth. He checked Biz's eye, throat, etc.--those areas that are often affected by radiation--and said that her body is responding remarkably well. Biz has no sores, blisters, redness, or other tell-tale signs of the radiation. Your prayers on her behalf have been powerful and effective.
Please continue in prayer for the rest of our family, too. Here at just beyond the mid-way point, we're all longing for some normal life. We'd do it all over again if circumstances necessitated, but we'd appreciate your prayers for our perseverence.

Happy times

The worst thing about the post-9/11 security at the airports is not the long line that you must wait in to get through the check points, nor fact that they make you remove your shoes when you get there (?!). The worst part is that when you take your wife and kids to the airport you can't walk them to the gate and see that they get away o.k. You just drop them off at the curb. So it was good to get the call from home telling me that they made it safely and according to plan. Deb and the kids arrived home to a warm house and a warm meal thanks to the loving effort of some friends, and Biz and I have begun the daily routine. I must admit that I'm not as good at this routine as Deb, but mine usually includes Starbuck's, so there are SOME advantages to having Dad take over.
We had a happy moment today as Arjun, the 6 year old boy from Seattle that I asked you to pray for, had his last treatment! He came out holding his mask, painted just like Spiderman, with a huge smile on his face. His overall cancer treatment is not finished, so you can still pray for him and his family, but he is done with radiation and experienced very little negative side-effect during the course. I have exchanged addresses with his dad and hope to see them again.
Biz's mask remains unpainted (she's a little too old, and a little too young, for that kind of nonsense). I suggested she paint it to look like me, but she didn't go for it.