The Giver of Great Gifts

“Our Lord Jesus differs from all other teachers;  they reach the ear, but He instructs the heart; they deal with the outward letter, but he imparts an inward taste for the truth, by which we perceive its savour and spirit... Had it not been for the love of Jesus we should have remained to this moment in utter ignorance, for without His gracious opening of our understanding, we could no more attained to spiritual knowledge than an infant can climb the Pyramids, or an ostrich fly up to the stars... Let us sit at the feet of Jesus, and by earnest prayer call in His blessed aid that our dull wits may grow brighter, and our feeble understandings may receive heavenly things.”

-- C.H. Spurgeon

I sit at the close of a ferociously busy day with these words written down by Spurgeon and cast onto a page that is forever dated January 19th in his devotional Morning and Evening. How easy it is to think we have attained something, earned our keep in life, or merely just accomplished the day’s tasks by our own good standing. Today has been a continual reminder that I can do none of those things apart from the good will of God above and the grace of Jesus Christ. 

I was the last of my family to casually roll out of bed at 4:45 this morning-- they had all beaten me up anywhere between the hours of 3:30 (props to you Mom and Dad!) and 4:30. Mom, Jared, Drew and Abbey piled into the car just before 5 and zipped off to the hospital just down the street; Jared made it barely in time to be admitted at 5am. He waited in the prep room until about 7am, and then was whisked off to the OR. Stories haven’t surfaced from these hours just yet, but be certain that leaving Jared in a room for two hours waiting for what everyone else would call a nerve-wracking surgery must have provided the hospital staff with some solid, free entertainment!

Next, we waited. I sat in meetings concerning the history, development, and usability of the Ohio Achievement Assessment (despite what you might think, at least the first 5 hours were interesting), Dad traipsed across Findlay, Ohio calling on offices for business, and Mom, Drew and Abbey truly just waited. Just before noon we received the good news that the tumor had been removed without any spreading! Praise be to God! Then, around two, we received word that the replacements had been made in Jared’s leg and that he would be heading to recovery shortly thereafter. 

Then, Jared waited. He was in what he calls “the dungeon” for four long hours. Jared found himself available to pray for another woman beside him in this dark and cold recovery room-- a woman who expressed being in sever pain. Praise be to God, he even blesses us with opportunities to share His love at moments like these. How far superior is His love for our soul than that of our circumstances! 

While in “the dungeon” the doctors gave Jared an epidural to diminish the pain he would experience in his leg upon waking. Apparently it was not working immediately because, just as they were about ready to move Jared to his room, they ran through their checklist again, only to stop when Jared rated his pain at about a 7 out of 10. If you know Jared, you know that this really means that his pain was more along the lines of a 12 out of 10, he just doesn't have a normal pain rating scale. Honestly, he ran 10 miles and hiked at Red River Gorge on the tumor in his knee for months! 

Finally, having made it out of recover and to his room, he was bombarded with family and nurses to take care of him. His new nurse, Melissa, did a great job dishing back to Jared all of his outlandish, drugged-up comments. Mom, at least, was thankful to have her around when Jared, with great frustration, realized just how many IVs, cords, and other various tubes he was hooked up to. You can see in the picture below some of the cords as well as the stitches (black line) and wrapping going up his leg to enclose the incision (more pictures from the ultrasound and xray to come showing what the replacement actually looks like inside his leg).

Dad and I finally joined the crowd in the hospital in time for dinner. Jared is sharing a room with another patient at the James, so our visit there was short, in hopes of not disturbing his neighbor or violating hospital rules of three visitors at a time for an unwarranted amount of time. I was around long enough to recognize that Jared is doing better than I could have ever expected. I went into this day with the thought in the back of my mind that the doctors could open his leg and find cancer spread everywhere. They could have had trouble with bleeding in surgery and the cancer could have spread then. Jared could have even woken up without a leg at all if things had gone along the lines of the worst case scenario. However, thus far, God has permitted us the blessing of learning of His glory by hearing good news. We thank Him for his grace and praise him for such astounding gifts! We will know next week, when the pathology reports come back, exactly how much of the cancer has been killed off and what his next rounds of chemo need to look like. At this point, we are just basking in good news and great promises from the Lord! 

As I began my post with a few thoughts from Spurgeon, these things have been revolving around in my mind all day. Surely, we could not even raise our voice in praise or bend our knees in prayer or process these circumstances in this way if it was not for the preliminary and preeminent work of Christ. Nothing that happened the way we prayed for it to today happened as a result of a work completed by anyone in my family. We prayed that Jared’s surgery would go well. It did, through the talents and gifts given to our surgeon by God. We prayed that the cancer would be removed from Jared’s body. Again, God used Jared’s surgeon to accomplish this. I am thankful to be offered the beginning of another year of life on God’s earth, but, just as I did nothing 24 years ago to make this possible, I do nothing to sustain the outcome of that desire now. “...Without his gracious opening of our understanding, we could no more attained to spiritual knowledge than an infant can climb the Pyramids.” God is love; God is grace. To him be the praise forever and ever amen!

Trust in Loss

This processes seems to have gone by so quickly for me. Yet, at the same time, I feel as though this phase of life has been my family's reality forever. In some sense, I suppose that is a true statement. If there is one thing I have come to better understand through this process, it is that the sovereignty of God must be viewed as the most acceptable and glorious of all things as we face life's most distinct trials, and surely He has known that this would be our reality "before the foundations of the world." He gave my brother the grace of eternal life and claimed  Jared as his own "workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them" (Eph 2:10). Jared has certainly been brought to walk in them, and I believe, by God's grace, he has done so well. Even as I reflect on my own fretfulness in those first few weeks between the biopsy and the first round of chemo, it amazes me that God has allowed my brother's calm acceptance to be such a gift of assurance in this process. To be certain, we've each had our moments of doubt. The first time the reality of Jared's cancer seemed to permeate my heart is near unforgettable now...

It was his first round of chemo and I don't think he had stirred in his hospital bed all week. I'm sure no other pain in life thus far has compared to the first hours that drug ripped through his body. He didn't eat, he didn't talk, he didn't even move (which, if you know Jared at all, is incredibly worrisome. He broke my mom's rib in utero he moved around so much!). He simply laid in bed, wait for it all to pass. That Thursday night was my turn to stay overnight at the hospital. I had taking the following day off work, knowing that I wouldn't get a good night sleep and because I was speaking at our church's women's retreat the following day. Around midnight, I realized it was about time for me to start pulling together the details of my introduction talk. Unfortunately, my brain was altogether lost. I just sat their staring  at my brother, wishing their was something I could do to just make it all go away. So, I opened a sermon I had listened to for guidance this past summer, given by Matt Chandler (pastor of the Village Church in Dallas, TX  given back in 2003 on the same passage of scripture on which I was speaking the next day (Ephesians 3). The words he said hit me in the most profound way as I sat at Jared's bedside that night: 

“Let me be scary graphic and honest with you for just a second. There is coming a day for you, because you live in America, it will be a hospital room, and it will be 3 in the morning, and your wife or your husband and your children will be at home asleep, and there will just be you. And your lungs will labor to breath. And in that moment a foundation built on money, a foundation built on church attendance, a foundation  built on small group or a sunday school class, a foundation build upon cognitive understanding of God will not be enough to bring you peace. In that hour it will only be the nearness of God that will be your good, and it is on its way for me...” 

The Thanksgiving of 2009 Chandler was diagnosed with a brain tumor (Go to http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/blog/pastors/ for updates on Chadler's life as he too battles cancer). A year after that, I found myself sitting at Children’s hospital in Columbus, praying for my brother to recover from his own similar pain. Suddenly, the nearness of God was all the more precious. The reality that nothing else could carry us through was not just confirmed by what Chandler had said, it was something felt so deeply words cannot express how much joy and sorrow my heart felt in hearing them. 

Now, I sit waiting again for time to pass and my brother’s pain to be relieved. He is heading into the OR this morning at The James Hospital for his limb salvage surgery. The doctors will be removing part of his femur and replacing it with a titanium rod. They will wedge the titanium into the bone marrow left just above his knee and then adjust the muscles in his calf to sustain the new “bone” in his leg. The goal today is to remove the bone and the cancer in it without breaking anything or allowing the cancer to spread. It is amazing how much more calmly my family has proceeded into this day now that we have seen the goodness of the Lord go before us in so many other ways during this season. It is difficult to be sure. How does Jared Sylvester’s sister reckon with the notion that I will never see him run again? Really, he started running at 9 months! But his talent was a gift from the Lord. He did not “wrap on the uterus wall and ask for it” (Chandler), God chose it for him, he enjoyed it immeasurably, ad now God has taken it away. For what purpose? Surely to enjoy God still more. How? That we do not know just yet. But, what right have we to compare gifts or doubt God’s good and perfect will? At the end of this day, God will have proclaimed Himself more fully in our lives, I have no doubt. I will be sure to update you all then. 

With love and thanks for all your prayers and support. ~Melissa 

Mary's Song

I laid down to sleep tonight, knowing that I needed comforting words or I would not fall asleep. I turned on my favorite hymn, How Deep the Father’s Love for Us, and was surprised by the tears that fell from my eyes. Remorse filled my heart as I dwelt on the meaning that lies within the truth of the lyrics. The realization that time is costly because all of my time has been purchased by God’s grace rang true and left me stunned. I had just waisted the last hour and a half on a movie that sought to tell some far forgotten fairy-tale of a fictional person’s life. But the life of Christ our Savior was real and it was vastly more significant and exhilarating than any story Hollywood can conjure up out of the depths of their minds--which were, in fact, created in the image of God by God himself. 

Over the past few weeks, I have spent time, though not time enough, meditating on the words of Mary’s hymn that is shared with us in Luke 1: 46-55. The wisdom that is exposed here, in this scripture, is profound. Years later, as Mary (or Elizabeth, for it sounds as if they were they only two witnesses to this conversation that Luke is reporting to us) looked back on the time in her life when she was called to suffer as a young, unwed, mother with child, what she remembers of her struggle is not the weight of being outcast by a people, the fear of raising a little boy alone, or even the sweet conversations shared with her cousin as they went through pregnancy together. What Mary tells Luke, and what God determines should be read in our Bible’s today, is that “[God] has looked on the humble estate of his servant;” when he gave her this particular path through suffering. And she continues, “For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” Surely she doesn’t mean that the confirmation of God’ promises came the first time she got morning sickness, though that must have been an odd testimony to the truthfulness of the angel’s words. In sickness, in tiredness, in weariness, in hunger, in discomfort, in pain, she receives over and over again the verification that God is at work, literally, within her. Then, to again prove his life to her, the baby not merely kicks against the side of her stomach, he leaps for joy! He is alive, he is real, he is Emmanuel, God with us. As Mary takes on these circumstances to bring Jesus into the world so that he could save us, Mary chooses not to dwell on the pain of it all, nor even the pride that could have been brewed, or the oddities she faced. She reflects and says, that God looked at her humble estate and chose to bless her with the privilege of carrying his Son. "And blessed is she who believe that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord." Mary knew that the fulfillment of the angel's words would not come, merely, in the reality of her pregnancy, but in the life of her son and in the announcement of his identity as savior. She treasured all these things in her heart, pondered them, and waited on the Lord to reveal his plan. 

How often I do not do as Mary did. I do not look at life and wonder in amazement that God has “looked on the humble estate of his servant” and chosen to bless me with opportunities to share his gospel. I can easily see the pain or discomfort, but how often can I see that God allows me to be part of all he does because he has blessed me. Not that God is using me; it’s much easier to believe that God is using me because I’m good at what I do. God does not bless because I deserve to be blessed-- I do not. God blesses “in remembrance of his mercy.” 

Jared and I had a discussion recently about what it looks like to biblically pursue healing from his cancer. Is there a time when enough is enough and you let yourself “go home?” This was a tough question to discuss with a brother who I would do anything to keep here with me; but, I know if the situation were reversed, I’d be thinking about the same thing. The answer sits right here in this text: do not dwell on the suffering, think only on the profundity of gospel wherein pain finds its recourse and divine peace.


Amy Carmichael, who sat on her death bed for dozens of years, once wrote, 

“If I make much of anything appointed, magnify it secretly to myself or insidiously to others; if I let them think it ‘hard,’ if I look back longingly upon what used to be, and linger among the byways of memory, so that my power to help is weakened, then I know nothing of Calvary love.”

What does it look like to take in all my family is facing in light of these wise words? I don’t know the practicalities of that just yet. How do you not make cancer ‘hard?’ How do you not make much of this battle that has been appointed so that making much of Christ and his Calvary love has not been robbed from him? I’ll have to get back to you on how God makes this possible in our lives, for I know we will not pursue it well on our own. 

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I have become frustrated; yes, that’s the best way to begin my thoughts on thankfulness. It is exasperating to continually feel the weightiness of how disinclined I am to pursue life with the joy and thanksgiving I ought.  I just spent the last 48 hours of Thanksgiving preparations and celebrations cooking, baking, talking, laughing, praying, eating, and so much more; but, I look back and see that those hours have ingested a great deal of pain and suffering as well. It is so easy to look at holidays with a foggy notion of perfection and falsified joy-- to believe that if you’re lucky enough to look in on your family and see a scene that belongs in one of those old snow globes, you’ve simply achieved the stamp of approval for holiday perfection. And yet, how often I have overlooked the moments for which I am called to repent, even in the middle of living a “picture-perfect life.” If I think about this day in light of the blessing of eternity a number of formidable things come to mind. 

First, is the daunting thought that while salvation provided by Jesus Christ lasts throughout all eternity, I am by no means prepared for such bliss. I am far too conceded to worship God as his righteousness demands. I am too naive of my own faults to enjoy the grace of God in all its splendor. I would love to leave this world behind, abandon the tension it provides my heart and soul, have silenced the deafening cry of sin and all its implications; but God is gracious as he continues to provide me time to walk beside him and be in awe of his great works here on this earth. May I evermore “...do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with [my] God” (Micah 6:8). 

In direct correspondence with that thought, is the awe-inspiring idea that, not only does God graciously allow us to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12) on this earth, but He has also allowed us to call heaven our home in which we may one day live. We have a home that does not have to forbid acts of folly, it foregoes them all together. We have a home that lacks nothing because it holds within it the God of the universe. We have a home that refuses to possess any haunting hallways, lurking corridors, or rooms filled with sour evocative notions. It indelibly stands as the home where our sin is not known or remembered, but our salvation, our redemption is fully realized. What a blessed thing! And what a wretched thought that I cannot, and often choose not, to dwell on the beauty of this with the intensity and wonderment it demands. 

There is one last and final hope in this train of thought, however, and it lies in this: that though I will never appreciate the costliness of God’s grace as I ought, and even though Jared’s cancer continues to wretch out my soul with all its might as the acuteness of my sin is brought before me, “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Christ is the perfect sacrifice by which we are saved. I am commanded to “work out” my salvation-- to live in awe and wonder and in light of the reality of it-- but never to provide such a magnificent thing as it for myself. Christ has accomplished what is not probably for the a sinner such as I. And so I rejoice again with the wise dying words of John Newton (author of the hymn Amazing Grace), “My memory is nearly gone; but I remember two things; That I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

The First Day of Chemo

Jared has just about completed his first full day of chemo treatment. They started him at 12:20 yesterday afternoon-- a little later than expected, but in God's perfect timing, no doubt. He is doing really well taking in the drugs and bravely facing new pain. I think the most painful part of this process to him thus far has been the beeping noises around the hospital, or at least that's what he has vocalized at this point. 

Last night my family was blessed to actually enjoy our hospital stay a good deal. Meals were provided to all the families on our floor last night, which is an amazing thing to take in! During the dinner hour an old friend of ours, who found himself on this same floor of Children's just 26 months ago with his own son, came to visit. It was incredible to hear the stories of their fight against cancer and all the friendships God was able to build during their time here. It astounds me how God orchestrates our lives. 

We have not been able to keep in touch with the Alfriends since we knew them well about 13 years ago. Now, we have reconnected with them through multiple different things. Jared re-met one of their sons while he was on a tour of Miami just last year, and we heard about Tyler's cancer through the woman with whom I share my classroom. Her daughter, Kylie, who Jared and I have gotten to know through our mutual involvement in Campus Crusade at Miami, had grown up with the Alfriends and was diagnosed with her own cancer the same day as Tyler. The Alfriends and the Bornhorsts battled cancer down the hall from each other just a few years ago. They beat it, and now they are back at Children's, walking alongside us as we face Jared's. What a blessing these friends are to our family!

We were also able to spend some time with some other friends who will be on the same rotation as Jared. Meghan is a 21 year old synchronized  swimmer on the US Olympic team who was given the exact same diagnosis as Jared about three weeks prior to his own. Through mutual friends connecting them, Jared and Meghan were able to meet up before chemo started and discuss their diagnosis and how the Lord is leading them through it. Last night, spending some time with Meghan, her mom, and her friend Michelle, the world seemed to be a bit cheerier and the hospital felt less sterile and more like a second home. 

Every time another visitor, particularly those like Meghan or the Alfriends, Cannones, or others who have been through what he's going through now, come to visit, you can see the relief on Jared's face. He listens to his ipod a lot, taking in words of encouragement through songs, but there is nothing better than the physical representation of God's care for him and support of his needs through the friends that walk through his door. 

We know that the battle is just beginning, but we're ready to "fight to win," as Tyler's slogan says. We don't want to win for ourselves or even Jared's future, but to win for Christ. It is He who gives us the breath to sustain everyday. So, no matter what life brings, we will cry out to Him in pain and sing praises to Him in joy, for He is the giver or all things. 

I have been reflecting recently on journals from past years and found this quotation written in my journal from when I was reading the bookA Path Through Suffering by Elisabeth Elliot my junior year of college:

"A cup brimful of sweetness cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, no matter how suddenly jarred."

The quotation was originally written by Amy Carmichael who was a missionary in the remotest part of India in the early 1900s. She spent the first few years of her ministry there caring for the people of India and sharing the gospel with them. However, the majority of her time there was spent in her small home, writing books and taking in visitor. She was ill and bedridden for years, but she refused to move home to get well. She wanted to stay and serve among the people as she wrote books of her suffering-- and joy in suffering-- that made it home to the comfortable homes of Europe. 

No matter what life throws at us, if we are already filled with the Joy of the Lord, it is impossible to pour out on the world the bitterness and grief that is expected in these circumstances.  

Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement. They are appreciated more than you could possibly imagine! 

Update: At the Hospital for Treatment

Bright and early this morning (at around 5:30) Jared and my mom rose to head over to Children's Hospital to begin Chemo treatments. The day started off slowly and easily-- getting acquainted with the nursing staff and waiting for his turn in the OR. Around 8:30 Jared was taken into surgery to have his Port placed in his chest. The surgery went seamlessly and the recovery was better than expected. When the biopsy was done, the anesthesia drugs took Jared under in more ways than one, so, there was a little bit of a concern that the recovery from this surgery would also be strenuous on Jared's body. It, however, was much easier. He has been keeping food down all day and been a little less groggy than last time. This is encouraging news when considering the side affects chemo often solicits.


The rest of the day was fairly calm. It simply included sleeping off meds and waiting for the treatment process to start. Around 5:30 the rest of the family showed up, bombarding the nurses with our boisterous personalities and "large family" appeal. Everyone had arrived to pray through and wait through the first chemo administration, or so we thought. To our surprise, the lab reports did not come back with enough evidence that Jared's body was truly hydrated and in good enough working order to receive chemo treatments just then. No true complications, just a request for more recovery and monitoring time before the actual "tough stuff" begins. With that, the first chemo drug will be wrapping through Jared's veins at about 8am tomorrow. As it does, we pray that every inch of its fluids attack all that has been battling against the perfect design God created for Jared's body, killing off the old deadly cells.


What a blessing it has been these past weeks to learn from the Lord how He cares for us through everything from the friendships that have kept us going and the prayers that have kept our hearts close to the Lord. We are certain that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, for He not only suffered to a greater depth spiritually and physically than Jared ever will, but He also died for us. He alone is the reason we are so assured that nothing will come to harm Jared that will not benefit him in the end. And the saving grace of God, through Christ, is what allows Jared the peace to suffer through this trial with the amazing bravery he has exhibited thus far. Let all glory and praise be to Him!


We thank you for your prayers and for the dedication and support you have so freely offered our family. 

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...