Today was a great day for Tara. She spent time this morning with some friends from our small group. Then lunch at home with Andrean, Jenna and Lewis as well as a good friend, who brought the lunch. This afternoon was some great time with the kids doing school work. In between a few chores around the house. By the end, as she would want it, she was all used up and now lays crashed in bed ready for rest. You don’t have to probe too deep to find the smile on her face, because she remembers clearly where she was 8, 6, or even 3, weeks ago. It is now day seventy.

Tomorrow is round 9 of chemotherapy. I’ll be going with Tara right away in the morning to get some much needed time with her. Hopefully the conversations are not distracted. I guess that is up to me, right?

We have been updating our wall map regularly, but we know we are still missing some locations where people are thinking of and praying for us. If you don’t see your place represented, please let me know so I can stick a pin there (I’m sorry if you have told me and I have forgotten). This map has been a source of great encouragement to us and will remain on our bedroom wall for years to come as a reminder of God’s faithfulness.

Soon after Tara was diagnosed with cancer on January 30, I realized the value of friendship. First of all, Tara and I set aside our relationship as lovers for a period of time and we relied on our friendship alone. We have had conversations of great intimacy, sharing our deepest thoughts and feelings. I love that part of our relationship.

I guess I never really thought of why I spend time with “man-friends”, other than it is fun. But now it all makes sense. The hours invested in friendships pay their return in times of trial. When I need to talk, cry or vent, it is a friend that lends an ear or a shoulder.

Today, I had 2 friends approach me about an issue in my life that needed to be kept in check. It was uncomfortable. But they had courage to ask, patience to listen and wisdom to help me think it through. These are deep issues that have no obvious right or wrong answers. The conversation will be ongoing so it will take endurance and commitment on their part to see it through. But the intent is my family’s best interest and as pure a reflection of God’s glory as possible. These guys love me. Why would a friend ever withhold loving reproach if they see a brother in need of accountability or correction?

We try to teach our children the value of our family as friends. When my parents said that about my siblings I laughed. But now, my siblings are my best friends and I am so thankful. Some of my kids laugh now at the thought of their siblings being their best friends. But they will see. The very people that know them the best and love them in spite of their flaws are the ones that will ALWAYS be there for them.

Friends, thank you for loving us exactly where we are. Thank you for praying for us and helping us. You are true friends and we love you.

The weeks are blending together. Work is busy; not yet a whirlwind, but with the first few days of warm, sunny weather, it will be. Kids are doing their school thing. Tara is trying to get more and more involved in home life. It is the first week without help at home since a week before surgery. While that is slightly overwhelming for her, it is also a welcome challenge….I think.

The reality of life has struck. Day 1 of life without help at home went well, but Tara is spent. I try to look ahead to see when it will be different, and I just can’t see it. I want so bad for Tara to be back to her old self, and life to go back to the old normal. But I can’t ask that of her right now and life won’t go back to the way it was.

We are in a fight and wartime rules apply. The men and women in the trenches didn’t get much sleep and a lot was asked of them for a season. A lot was also asked of the American family during World War 2. Men were at war so women filled the businesses and factories, and took on new roles at home. It was the way it had to be. Women became the breadwinners, the protectors, and more.

Now Tara is at war, and many of her roles are being taken on by me and the family. We want to do it but man is it hard. Simply not knowing when this phase will be over is one of the hardest thing for me. How can I budget my strength and endurance when I can’t see the end? How can I set a pace for the family? It shouldn’t be this hard, right?

God will sustain us. He will be faithful.

Today was our first trip in 3 months (to somewhere other than the hospital). A friend was generous to let us use his beautiful Wisconsin cabin. And although there is still ice on the lake, the getaway is refreshing.

Our last trip, in early January, was to a different cabin that Tara and I retreated to, celebrating our 19th anniversary (December 31) and to develop a mission statement for our family and a financial plan to coincide. Our vision seemed so clear then. We had a plan. A purpose. A mission to work toward in life. We thought it had to be the right path. It seemed divinely inspired. I was so excited about it, I took the next few weeks to tweak our company’s strategic plan, aligning it more with our personal plan.

Then this. How could we have been so far off? The plan seemed noble and selfless. But now, 3 months later, all we have done is focus on ourselves, trying to survive. Did we miss some clues back in January? We sure didn’t see this one coming.

Like a rescuer being tossed into the rough seas, needing himself to be rescued. We should never view ourselves as rescuers. People always need rescuing. Sometimes the church views its role as “ministering” to others. That is an awful lofty view of ourselves. We have been reminded that we need rescuing too. We are humbled and I think that is exactly where God can use us the most. Thank you, God, for life lessons that are real and practical.

I have a group of guys who I work out with. One guy we call the pain master because he is the one who creates the workout regimen, and it always hurts. By the end my muscles have failed and it is difficult to do the most simple of tasks, like bend over to pick something up or even scratch my nose.

The week’s toll has been taken on my mind and body. I’m not miserable, just spent. Like the workout, it is all good stuff, but the repetitions have caused failure. Now the simple things seem so hard. Getting up from sitting down. Cleaning up the kitchen (which Esther started and inspired me to keep going). Taking the dog out. Brushing my teeth.

And then I look at my wife. The simple things for her have been physically hard or even impossible for a while. Today she drove for the first time in over 2 months. She ran some errands, bringing donuts home for breakfast. Cleaned the bedroom. Fixed lunch for the kids. It felt good for her to be able to do these things. All are things that would be easy, normally. Even though the weight is light, the repetitions have caused failure for her too. Now she lays here physically and emotionally exhausted. She is not miserable, just spent.

God has sustained us again today. It was his word that gave us hope earlier when we were at the breaking point.

In Memphis, as a young arborist I had to rescue a co-worker from a bucket truck. He was making a cut on a limb that came back and pinned him in the bucket about 40 feet high. He was not injured but could not move due to the weight of the limb against him. He needed help. So I ascended the tree (using rope and saddle) and realized half way up that I was climbing through poison ivy; thick, woody vines and lush, juicy leaves. But I had to keep going because my co-worker was in danger.

Later, I learned new meaning for the word “itch”. Covered on my neck, belly and arms, I was not deterred from scratching. Blood couldn’t stop me. Neither did threats of scars or spreading, nor anything else, because it relieved the itch to simply scratch. So I did. All those things I heard as a child about scratching being bad, I learned they not true. First Santa, then the Easter Bunny, now this? I was devastated.

Now as a dad, I occasionally see blood from a scratched mosquito bite on Lewis’ arm and I tell him, “Quit scratching. That might scar.” He answers with a smile saying, “But I like scars.” That’s my boy. I let him scratch.

Tara itches like crazy right now. The rashes are healing and it is an insatiable itch. But she is not miserable, because the pain from the shingles is FINALLY gone. Thank God. I am telling her, “Scratch away, bristlefingers. Add these scars to the others if you want.” They are scars in a battle she is winning. That seems to make a scar more bearable.

Tara has yet a new spring to her step; each day more and more strength. God has sustained her again today.

Tomorrow is Tara’s chemotherapy day. I’ll drop her off a little after 7 am for blood work then she is on her own. We just watched a YouTube video of a chemo patient lip synching to “Stronger” by Kelly Clarkson. Tara is jacked up ready for the day. Go Tara!

The days are getting a bit easier. She is really ready to be done with the shingles, which have surprised us both in how bad they can be. Hats off to those of you who have dealt with that in the past. I have a new respect for you.

My sister has been here this week from Santa Fe. It has been a treat to spend time with her and have her help. Along with all the other fun things that an Aunt can do, she has helped Mic and Essie with their cello, jumped on the trampoline with Andrean and Jenna, and got in the treehouse with Lewis. Too fun.

Each month, each of our children has a special day on the day corresponding to their birthday. For example, on the 14th of each month Andrean has her special day. On that day, she gets to take a bath in our big whirlpool tub, choose the dessert for that evening and pretty much get anything she wants from us.

Now Tara deserves a special day pretty much every day. And she needs it. So with the energy that I can muster each night, I try to provide that for her. Sometimes it involves a foot rub. Sometimes a special dessert. Sometimes just the chance to chill while I get the kids to bed. When I get tired and want to quit (pretty much each night), I think about my dad. He always modeled a servant-like love for my mother and I am so thankful for that. Even still, he obnoxiously loves and serves her like she is the most special person on this planet. He is selfless and sacrificing. Those are big shoes to fill.

Tara is improving every day. This week she is enjoying time with the kids (on spring break) and my sister from New Mexico. Each day she gains energy, although slower than she wishes. Even as I write she needs to feel special. So in the spirit of my father, I must go and tend to my wife.

Yesterday I cut my son’s hair down to nubs. He has been wanting to have hair like mine for a while and now that Tara’s is also short he pretty much insisted. So I did it and he admires it often, rubbing it, enjoying whiskers for the first time in his life. Today he asked, “Dad, can I have the spaces on top like you have?” He pointed on his head to where my receding hair has created the “spaces” he referred to. “That will come later, son.”

Lewis has no idea that what he asks for. To his little eyes, it seems cool. But he doesn’t see what I’ve paid to have this hair. I was born with certain genes, was weathered with sun and wind, was stressed to provide for my wife and family, and once I had children, I pulled some of it straight out.

The appeal of something could easily be quenched by the cost. The cost of freedom is not for the faint of heart. Some have fled. The appeal of high paying jobs is often quenched by the cost or rigors of the schooling. The appeal of being a good athlete is quenched by the training that is involved.

The road to Godly character is paved with trials. I’ve naively asked for this character over the years, like a child wanting to be like his father. It appeals to me, even though others may see it like a balding head. And now I am being refined in a new way, and it hurts. And if I had counted the cost prior to asking, I may have never asked for it.

I now believe in the Easter bunny. We woke up today to a backyard full of Easter eggs (Thank you to whoever did that). The kids were so excited. Later we enjoyed a good dinner with some great friends. They opened their home to us, served us and loved on us. What a great day.

This week is a light week for Tara. Just chemotherapy on Thursday. My sister will be in town this week to spend time helping while the kids are off from school. It will be a fantastic week.

There have been a few questions people have asked us, and I wanted to answer them for everyone. So here they are.

Q: What is the significance of the black and white pins on our map?
A: Nothing. It depends on which one we pull out of the container that has both colors in it.

Q: Is Tara planning to get a wig?
A: She is a practical person and likes the flexibility of a hat. So unless she becomes bothered by the lack of hair she will likely stick with the hat.

Q: Is there anything else we can do for Tara or the family?
A: Yes. Here is a list of things that would help.
a. Continue to pray for us; for our children’s’ faith, for the effective of the treatment, for peace and endurance.
b. Engage us in conversation about things other than our situation. It is okay to ask, but let the conversation go elsewhere.
c. Send us encouragement in cards or comments on the blog. Blog comments are read daily and are free. Don’t feel like you have to say anything else other than the scripture if you don’t want.
d. In a few weeks we could use help getting our perennial beds ready for spring. Usually Tara does this (and loves it) but this year we’ll need help. Let us know if you can help.