Jared's Response to Surgery

Jared is doing very well; he's been cracking jokes all afternoon, so he's pretty much normal. We had quite the experience transporting Jared back and forth from the hospital. We made this video (below) when he had just woken up, for the second time, and was trying to relate to you all what had happened today and how he was feeling. We left the hospital a short while later and headed over to Dr. Mayerson's office to pick up a few documents we need for Jared's appointment at Children's Hospital in the morning. 

When we arrived at the doctor's office, Jared insisted on going up and personally introducing himself to the staff. They're going to be some of his closest companions these next few months, so, he wanted to make sure he made a great first impression. After a few minutes of talking with his nurse, Jared looked at us all, very pale in the face, and said, "I feel dizzy, I need to sit down... I think I might throw up." Within seconds he was projectile vomiting into the trash can the nurse had grabbed from behind the desk. Jared stood up immediately after the scene had passed and informed everyone else in the waiting area that it was ok, he had just had surgery. We then proceeded to a room in which he could lie down for a while and regain strength. Almost right away he started cracking jokes about the situation and listing off all the things he could have done to actually freak the rest of the patients out. Clearly, we're not too worried about him loosing his sense of humor throughout this process. As Jena Long so brilliantly said when I first voiced my concern about Jared loosing his personality: "Something like that is too big to loose." 

PS: if you see someone dressed as a cancer patient running around Miami on Halloween, it's probably Jared. Yes, he's trying to find a way to be in Oxford this weekend, and yes, he does think it would be funny to dress up as a caner patient. And yes, Jared is still Jared...

Biopsy Day

Jared heading into surgery. We'll post updates soon!

The official diagnosis: Stage Two Osteosarcoma

What that means: The cancer has not spread beyond the 5 cm of the femur it has infected. Dr. Mayerson will be setting up an appointment with Dr. Yeager at Children's hospital to begin chemo treatments soon, more than likely next week. This week will be full of fixing things up around the house and mentally preparing for Jared's first round of treatment. We are excited to see what the Lord has determined to do with this. 

"For by grace you have been saved, through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is by the gift of God, not a result of works, that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." -- Ephesians 2:8-10

We have full confidence that God, just as he graciously granted Jared eternal life and faith through Jesus Christ and the strength to continue to grow and mature in his faith in Christ, so He has planned for Jared and our family (along with you all!) to go through this experience. 

Please keep praying. Jared is not yet awake. We will be able to see him around noon or so, when the anesthesia wears off. Check back for updates on how he's doing and what his thoughts are on the diagnosis later today when we've had the opportunity to talk with him.   

How Deep the Father's Love for Us

From last night: didn't post...

Jared goes in for his biopsy tomorrow morning at 8, so my family sat down tonight to talk, worship and pray together. I am always encouraged when I think about the blessing that my family is-- what evidence they are of God’s grace in my life. Even earlier today as I was discussing with the Cannones who of my family has made it in town to visit Jared during these weeks of waiting, it was such an astounding fact to share that at 23 I still have all four of my grandparents. What’s even more incredible is that not only are they all still in good health, but they all know the Lord. With that, tonight as we sat and prepared for Jared’s first invasive, active fight against this cancer, it was an unmerited reward to pray with my siblings, parents, and grandparents for God to continue to be glorified every step of the way, including during the biopsy and its report tomorrow. 

I was also given the opportunity to choose the song we would sing together before heading to bed. My favorite right now is “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” by Stuart Townend. The doctrine in it is simply beautiful. It capsulates more clearly and concisely than anything else how I feel at this moment. The verse I like best is the last one: 

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward

I cannot give an answer

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom

Friends of mine sang this at their wedding; that was when the lyrics truly hit me in a new way. Marriage is a blessing none of us deserve. Love, family, friendship, companionship, pursuing Christ still more as our sin is revealed and killed through those relationships. These are all gifts that we are blessed to have by God’s grace. Add to that, that the redemptive work of Christ on the Cross makes these relationships better and more useful for the encouragement and continued joy of our souls-- the thought is mesmerizing in its tranquility and awesomeness! 

As I sat with my family singing the conclusion of this song yet again, I was reminded with a new and greater depth just how much I have gained from His reward. We will find out tomorrow how exactly God has chosen to bestow his graces upon us in this circumstance. It could be a miraculous sign of his handiwork, a reminder that he alone is Creator God, who gives and takes away, and in this instances may choose to take away the tumor in Jared’s knee. Or, he could remind Jared and each of us who love him of the great physical suffering Christ stood to bear our sin. He could choose to continue to proclaim his name through Jared’s weakness, for, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). He could do things with this illness that are “...far more [abundant] than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20). 

Looking toward tomorrow that seems to stand at a great distance from me now, I only know one thing-- not that I will praise the Lord with all my heart at the answer to all our questions, that is a gift of rejecting sin and selfishness that I will pursue only by the power of the Lord and his great grace tomorrow-- that “His wounds have paid my ransom.” 

Psalm 25: A Call to Lay Everything at His Feet

I began my day today, by God’s astounding blessing, with time to myself! In a house filled to the brim with eight people all on various missions to ensure that the place is in the best possible working order, time alone is scarce to be found. So, I did my absolute favorite thing with my free time: I grabbed a cup of coffee, made a yogurt parfait, opened my Bible to Psalms, and began to pray through scripture. I had merely breeched the second verse of Psalm 25 when my mind was sent reeling off in a million different directions. The psalmist begins his prayer like this, 

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in you I trust;
let me not be put to shame;
let not my enemies exult over me.”

The first verse was such an encouragement. The night before had passed with frustration and restless sleep. I needed nothing more in the provision of calm the following morning to “life my soul” to the Lord, let him take my burdens. It was the next verse that blew me off course. What does it mean to “not be put to shame?” Who are my enemies and when are they not to “exult over me?” Surely if this prayer was one God sought to answer with a “yes” for his children, Christ would not have been shamed by his own people! Truly, if God did not desire for our enemies to exult over us, the church would not be so readily put to death or persecuted for all of history! What then, or could I, pray along with these words of scripture? Where was my heart to be led?  

As I continued to meditate on this scripture and read through the remainder of the Psalm, I came to the realization that this verse is a cry for the Lord to be who he says he is. Perhaps we will face fleeting moments of shame or defeat, but may it never be that God’s children are shamed at the end of all things, for God is who he says he is! What an attitude to have; what a prayer to put before the Lord. “Father, be who you proclaim yourself to be. I trust enough in who you are to know that if you simply continue to be “the same yesterday, today, and forever,” (Heb 13:8) shame will never come to me, my enemies will never exult over me.” But, part of God being who he says he is, is revealing himself exactly when and how he determines is best for his glory. “O my God, in you I trust,” means that God may choose to allow for suffering, for shame to come for brief moments of our time on earth. Whatever it is that, in the end, leads God and his children to “not be put to shame,” that is what will be accomplished by God’s great sovereign hand. 

It’s interesting, looking at this scripture in light of the possibility of cancer my family is now facing. This week I have found myself pushing the issue aside, not wanting to talk about it again, becoming tired of having the same conversation ten times a day. Today I was reflecting on the natural flow of these conversations that persist into updates about my family and Tom Selleck’s character from Friends came to mind. There’s a scene in one of the first episodes he’s in wherein he explains to Monica and Phoebe how conversations about his divorce were made complete with the head tilt and the head bob. A ridiculous reference, I know, but in truthfulness, that’s often how things seem to proceed. Not that I don’t wish for those conversations. The head tilts and bobs certainly don’t diminish the necessity of those exchanges. Sometimes, though, I want to just wear a sign that says, “you are correct, my life is not perfect nor is it going according to plan” just to save people the trouble of asking. But life’s never going to be perfect for two distinctly different reasons. First, because we live in a fallen world. Cancer will not exist in heaven, where all creation will glorify God without any tarnishing evidence of sin. Second, because I have imperfect expectations of what perfection is. Though I might demand that things work out “perfectly” for me, I have no idea what that really means because I cannot in any way comprehend what perfection looks like. Instead my prayer should be,  

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in you I trust;
let me not be put to shame;
let not my enemies exult over me.”

My response should be one that echos the words of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego when they are facing prospect of being thrown into the fiery furnace. They make it known that God can save them, but he may choose not to. 

“But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up" (Daniel  3:18)

This is my prayer, that I may continually grow in having this attitude. “O my God, in you I trust.” You may determine life and death for me, for you created them both, and over them you have power and dominion. May I lift up my soul, my life, my future, my brother, everything I naturally hold dear. He alone has the correct formula for perfection. 

Cancer Breeds Sanctification Faster and Better Than it does Bad Tissue

I created this blog when I was under the impression that substitute teaching would allow me a good deal of free time. As always, my life does not allow for anything but limited free time, no matter what my occupation. With that, this blog fell to the wayside. In recent days, however, I have realized that there may be a need for such a writing outlet in my life again. Hopefully the following paragraph will catch you up on the rational behind this notion (if you have not already read my brother’s blog at http://sylvesjf.wordpress.com/) 

Just last week Jared, my 21 year old brother, came home from Miami of Ohio, where he is a junior, to have an MRI on what we presumed to be a meniscus tear. On friday evening Jared’s doctor, Mike Cannone (also a good family friend of ours) called and asked for my parents, my brother and me to come over and discuss the results of his MRI. This seemed very odd considering that Jared had an appointment with him in the morning. 

Upon arriving at the Cannone’s house we were, as gently as possible,  informed that there was a large growth in Jared’s left knee. What Dr. Cannone and the radiologist both believe that mass to be is something called Osteosarcoma, a type of bone caner. We have spent the week since that time taking Jared to various other doctor’s appointments and scans that have only continued to confirm the original report Dr. Cannone gave. We are still awaiting the final diagnosis from the biopsy report to be taken next week, but the idea of cancer readily looms in the area around us, affecting our thoughts and conversations at every turn. 

While it has been truly amazing to witness the many different arrays of life to which the potential of cancer has spread, as well as the various responses it has breed, the most earth-shattering thing I have discovered through this news is how much of a person can be uncovered upon its arrival. It is true, you are able to see how people respond to suffering, how they share their story, how people overcome cancer or let it overrun them. More than that, though, the drastic shifts in life that come from such events bring to light, more than anything else I have thus far met, the depth of human depravity and the hope of redemption through Jesus Christ. Even within the first few moments of hearing the news, my beliefs about God were brought to the surface. 

The first thought that ran through my mind was, “God this isn’t what I asked for when I prayed for trials.” Even just the week prior to Jared’s diagnosis I was sitting with my friends Meaghan and Hannah discussing how much I despised the reality of circumstantial peace in my life; I was, at that point, begging God to provide opportunities in which I might experience a “peace that passes understanding” (Phil 4:7). I tried my hardest as I sat on the Cannone’s family room coach to explain to God that he had responded to my prayer’s wrongly: If anyone was getting sick it was to be me, not my family members. How could my walk with the Lord be tested in radical ways, how was I to be empowered to kill sin all the more when it was my brother, not me, who was facing excruciating suffering? That thought that we all experience at one point or another in our lives of, “Lord, take me instead,” was what ended my argument with the Lord. I instantly knew as I let the fleeting words pass through my mind that God had done the right thing. If I had been sick, it would not have challenged me to the extent that watching and caring for a sick brother will. My diagnosis would have been an usher call toward martyrdom. I would have seen the worst coming, embraced with all I had, and died nobly. I would have soaked up the glory of it all, been affirmed in my belief of my own perfection, and moved into heaven expecting shouts of jubilation and a beautifully restored body. What a shock it would have been to find the Lord looking at me with weepy eyes, wishing that I would have left my pride behind. Thanks to God’s amazing grace, I have not been permitted the opportunity to sin in that way. He has instead given me the occasion to walk through a circumstance of suffering that is far greater than I could have ever imagined. My brother’s pain over which I have no control will be far greater than withstanding a physical pain of my own that I may choose to hide from those I love. Taking care of a young man whom I love, who has the opportunity to hide his pain from me is an even graver thought. Standing in the shadow of the limelight, watching from a distance as he learn to suffer well is more humbling than I could have possibly imagined. Supporting him every step of the way, leaning on his understanding of the things to which God has called him for direction in his life when all I want to do is to shelter him from illness, that pulls to a halt my control, my belief that I know anything about how the world operates best. When I prayed that I might be able to walk through life embracing opportunities to “put to death the deeds of the body” (Rom 8:13) so that I might ultimately experience the peace of Christ, I did not have a circumstance like this in mind by the farthest stretch of the imagination. But God, in all of his sovereign and unmistakable majesty chose to bestow upon my brother, my family and me this gift of cancer. He has graciously plotted out for each of us a plan by which we may be sanctified, changed to his likeness so as to honor and glorify him more and more each day. For, why was the blind man born blind?  "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9: 3). And so, this is my prayer, that I may say with the blind man, “...one thing I know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9: 25). Not that I would claim to be the best, not that my pride would soak into my heart so much as to make my sin appear nobel in its nature, but that I, who was once blind to my immense need for a savior, would now see him work in my life in all his amazing glory, that I might recognize his control over this circumstance to which he brings astounding peace, and that by the fact that though I was born blind-- not knowing Christ-- now I see the vastness of his perfection and grace.