He Is In the Waiting

Wait. I'm still waiting. It is incredible how fast time passes when you are having fun, but when you want answers, it feels like forever. We received Jamie's results on August 30; our first appointment was on September 7, so we did our best to keep our minds off our new situation.

When your initial diagnosis is cancer, either skin cancer or lung cancer, you have a lot of room for your imagination to run wild. This is funny because I have zero imagination except for creating the most exquisite tragedy. Remember, I have already buried Jamie, started filling out job applications, and asked my kids if I could live with them. All in my head, of course. My counselor has a 14-syllable word for this; catastrophizing. This is when a person fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not. And this is what I do best. Ask me to imagine a European vacation, or ask me a "would you rather" question, and I will most likely not play along. It just isn't realistic. But say one word about something remotely negative, and I will have an entire running dialog living rent-free on the big screen of my mind. Thank you, childhood trauma, for this unappreciated gift. So, we attempted to keep ourselves busy and keep our minds occupied.

We managed to fumble through the following week. Some days were more manageable than others. There were even these momentary minutes when we forgot about the cancer, only to be flooded again with the overtaking wave of emotions. It was almost like hearing the news all over again. I remember Jamie needing to pray for the strength to come out of his room. And I had my moments of crying alone so that no one could see how scared I was.

During that week, I started waking up at 2A.M. every night. All of a sudden, I would be fully awake, and I would pray. But one night stands out. It was 2 A.M. again, but this time, I awoke to a song ringing in my ears, and these were the words I heard,

"So when I fight

I'll fight on my knees

With my hands lifted high

Oh God, the battle

Belongs to You

And every fear

I lay at Your feet

I'll sing through the night

Oh God, the battle belongs to You."

I needed these words. I needed this reminder. We were in a fight, and the way to fight was on my knees with my hands raised. And every fear I had, every catastrophe I had created, I could lay at the feet of The Father. The cancer battle was not mine to win. I lay there and let these words sing over my heart. And then the bridge of the song began playing in my mind.

"Almighty Fortress

You go before us

Nothing can stand against

The power of our God

You shine in the shadow

You win every battle

Nothing can stand against

The power of our God."

Wow! This situation was a surprise to us, but it was not to God. He had gone before us and prepared a way. Nothing could stand against Him. He wins every battle. The victory was already His. All I needed to do was fall on my knees, give Him every fear and concern, rest in His fortress, and wait for His victory to unfold.

Now, remember, I am a realist, so I was not assuming the battle would go as planned, but I had a reassuring confidence that it would go just as Jesus had planned. I know this statement can ruffle some feathers and raise the question, " Why would a loving God let someone get cancer?" And you know, I don't understand why some things happen. But I do know that I serve a loving God Who knows precisely what I need even before I have a need. I know that He is trustworthy and full of grace. I had no idea I was about to embark on an incredible life journey at that moment. I didn't know this season would hold some of the most treasured chapters of my story. I was completely unaware of the love and grace I would be showered with.

Cancer is an ugly word, one clocked in fear and uncertainty. But Jesus is a beautiful Word, one clothed in faithfulness and joy. Jesus is who I would choose to rest in because the battle was His, and He had already won. And all I needed to do was wait.

One way we escaped from reality, Royals game 9/3/2021

Song lyrics;  Phil Wickham - Battle Belongs

The Longest Week Ever…

Cancer. Ugh! What an awful word. I never knew how devastating one word could be until that day. Our whole world flipped upside down and inside out in one brief phone call. The life we had "planned" certainly did not include this. Vacations, house renovations, and business prospects were the things we were dreaming about, and cancer did not fit into this plan. What do you do when you receive ruinous news? I would love to tell you that my response was to pray and seek God, but it was not. I fell apart inside, but I could not let anyone see it. Especially now, we had to tell the kids.

The last thing the doctor said before we hung up was, "Things are going to move very fast." In our minds, we would receive a phone call with more information and doctor appointments as soon as possible. But that was not the case. Our call came just before a holiday, so we had more of a hurry-up-and-wait scenario. You can only imagine the intrusive thoughts that riddled our minds. How do we do this? Will he need chemo? Will he die? What will I do if he dies? For those of you who don't know me personally (yet :), you need to know that I have a toxic trait of always leaping to the worst-case scenario thanks to developmental trauma, but we will discuss that another day. Catastrophizing a situation is my superpower; that is what I did with this news. 

After a few baffling days filled with confusion, uncertainty, and worry, I had my first Ah-Ha moment. I would love to tell you I came to this alone or by direct interaction with the Lord, but that was not the case. Sometimes, we just need a friend who will shoot us straight—one who will slap the dumb right out of you, figuratively, of course. And thank God that is precisely the friend I had. Unfortunately, my friend had her cancer journey about six years earlier, so I thought it was only fitting to ask her for some advice. Her advice was not what I had anticipated. I was expecting some doctor's names. Some books to read. Some supplements to take. What she gave me was more favorable than I could have ever hoped for; she gave me a new perspective. A perspective that grounded me and set me on the right path to run this race before me. And for that, I will be forever grateful. 

"It is hard watching someone you love when there is nothing you can do to help. BUT GOD has a plan, and you don't know the scope of anything, so don't bury him yet!" And it was these following few words that would change my heart forever. " Remember, the world is watching, and these are the times we need to show we have peace and hope in our Heavenly Father. Let them ask where your peace comes from."

“Remember, the world is watching, and these are the times we need to show we have peace and hope in our Heavenly Father. Let them ask where your peace comes from.”

From that moment on, I had a new mission. It was more than surviving this trial and healing; it was sharing my hope in Christ with everyone I encountered. Doctor's offices, hospitals, and surgery centers became my mission field. The only question that was left was how I would represent my Jesus. 

Now, before you fall into the disillusion that I am a super strong and unwavering Christian woman, let me stop you; I definitely had my moments that were less than peaceful. But even in those moments, it was my friend's words that whispered in my heart, "The world is watching; let them ask where your peace comes from." These words would become my anchor, the place I would return to when I wanted to climb under a rock and hide. This season was not about me; I would allow God to use it for His glory. Let the journey begin. I guess. I mean, Yes! Let's do this!

Round Two...Still Growing

When your world shatters, what do you do? What is your first response? Do you curl up in a ball and hope it all goes away? Or do you pull up your big girl pants and keep going? This trial brought me to my knees, and that is where I needed to be.

Eventually, Jamie felt better. He finally ditched his oxygen—and it was just in time; he had a significant medical test scheduled for the following day. We anxiously awaited this visit and were relieved he could make it. Jamie had a bump on his neck, and unfortunately, despite multiple doctor, dentist, and scan appointments for over a year, we still had no explanation. We hoped this would bring us the clarity we needed, but the result was not what we wanted.

I remember this moment like it was yesterday. I was in the kitchen. I can still hear the chatter and buzzing about. Jamie came around the corner, waving his phone, "Shawna, come here. It's Dr. Munger."

I paused for a moment. It just took me some time to process what Jamie had muttered. Puzzled, I followed him into the office and closed the door. I heard a voice, "James, this is Dr. Munger, and we have your biopsy results. They show Squamous Cell Carcinoma." And in an instant, everything went quiet.

Cancer! It couldn't be. Why did it take over a year to figure this out? I took a deep breath and replied, " Do you know what type of cancer this is?

"Possibly skin or lung cancer." he quietly stated.

I turned, and my eyes met Jamie's; they were filling with tears, and he mouthed, "I am going to die." My heart broke. Sheer terror and panic washed over my resolute husband. It was like I was looking into the eyes of a frightened young boy. At that moment, everything in me said I needed to be strong. I could not be hysterical or fearful; there was no place for that. I needed to be unshakable for him. I could tell he was falling apart, and my duty was to uphold him.

One thing I learned from our recent battle with COVID-19 was that we needed to let people help. We needed prayer. And on my knees is where I would find my strength.

August 30, 2021, will forever be a day that changed the trajectory of our lives. It was the day we received the news no one ever wanted to hear—the news that would dictate every minute of the following three months. I recalled what the Lord showed me in Psalm 139; He knew what was happening. He was not surprised or caught off guard by this diagnosis; we were. Jesus was not going to desert me. He would not leave me there alone. He was there in the pit with me. And with Christ, we would endure. This time of suffering was yet another opportunity for my faith to grow.

Faith Building, Round One…

Has life ever sucker punched you? Me too! Has it ever hit you so hard that you were shaken for days, weeks, maybe years? Me too! That was my 2021. That year, I became well-educated on what it means to trust the Lord.

I had just spent the previous five days at church camp with 500+ teens. This trip was my first exposure to a large group since COVID-19 had flipped our world upside down. My whole family ended up sick a few days after we returned home. And my poor husband, who was the only one in our family who didn't go to camp, got it the worst. None of us had experienced Covid-19 before, and we thought it was just a simple cold. Unfortunately, we were very mistaken.

By day six, we were all extremely ill. None of us had the energy to move. It was definitely unlike any illness I had ever had. But my husband, Jamie, seemed to struggle more than the rest of the family. His breathing was labored, and his O2 dropped into the 70's. I was a mess. I was terrified. We contemplated taking him to the hospital but ultimately decided to keep him home.

Sadly, Jamie's health continued to deteriorate. His breathing became strenuous, and by day ten, I was an absolute wreck. He was so frail that he could not even stand to shower. I was so nervous that I had not slept in four days. I was incredibly fearful that I would make the wrong decision about the hospital and he would die. Luckily, we had a great group of friends and a fantastic doctor who rallied around us.

He was given a second round of medication and IV fluids and put on oxygen. And I was given a hefty dose of melatonin and Benadryl while a friend came and cared for us. It would not be until two years later that our practitioner communicated how concerned she had been about Jamie. She has a phenomenal poker face.

Finally, after three weeks of exhaustion, fatigue, and anxiety, we started to come back to the land of the living. But little did we know that this near-death experience was only the first of three that would befall us over the next 18 months.

The next few days were soul-shaking. We were embarking on our faith-growing journey through suffering. Thankfully, the Lord had consistently put Psalm 139 before me over the past three taxing weeks. He knew the looming trial and was preparing me for the battle. And trust me, I would need all the preparation I could get.

“Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
8 If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in [c]hell, behold, You are there.
9 If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall [d]fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
12 Indeed, the darkness [e]shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You.”

— Psalm 139: 7-12

Here We Go…

Well, here we go—my first blog post. I may or may not have scoured the internet for tips on writing your first blog post, but it all came down to being yourself, so here I am.

I have always enjoyed sharing my life stories with others in hopes that I would be relatable and that my stories would help them realize they are not alone. I am a helper. I am probably too much of a helper, but I am working on that. I exhausted too many years feeling like I was doing the whole "life" thing wrong. And that everyone else just did it better than me. That is such an isolating and miserable place to be. This blog was created to help others see they are not alone. That they are understood and loved.

My intention with this blog is not to entertain (although my life can be entertaining) or to make an income but to help others discover hope. Life on this side of heaven is challenging sometimes and can be complicated and messy. Hopefully, I'm not alone in this. My desire is that as you and I get more acquainted, you will discover the same hope I have found to continue on. Please come along with me on this journey. I could use all the company I can get.