Tara and I blog at night feeling like we’re telling our secrets, as if unaware people are following along. We try to be vulnerable and transparent, hiding nothing. But we have held out on a few conversations that have been too personal. Or maybe not too personal, rather not wanting to show our deepest fear, or be too negative.

The conversation about death came again tonight. We cannot go there often because it hurts too bad. I lose my breath every time I think about it. Pain and loss. But we have to have the discussion so we are not caught off guard. What would happen if the worst news came our way? How could we best spend Tara’s last days? Would we stay here or go somewhere together as a family to get away? Would we try every possible treatment or just enjoy her final days without punishing her body with treatments? How well would Lewis remember his mom? Would the girls be able to cope? How would Tara be remembered?

I want to lead my family courageously. But how can I if I am scared? Scared? Why now? Why should this be different than before cancer? It shouldn’t be. Heck, I might beat her to the grave. We should have realized our mortality a long time ago so we were living with the purpose of leaving a legacy for our children, for our family, our friends, our world. What purpose is all the stuff I have worked for if I have not done this? If I have not impacted people.

This conversation is not negative. Purpose is now our focus. Our purpose is becoming more clear. Life will not slip away on accident. It is not a conversation to have just when cancer strikes. We should have had this conversation all along. Like I have quoted in an earlier blog from the great prophet Braveheart, “Every man dies, but not every man really lives.”

So where do we go from here. We have purpose. Love God. Serve people (starting with our family). Care for creation. Our legacy will be……………

Tara answered some questions for Women’s Bible Study today that I thought I would share with you.

1. How has suffering shaped you as you grow in Christ? On January 30, we received the news that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. We were shocked. Our immediate response was to call on our church (pastors, friends and family) to pray for us. We also sought comfort from the word of God. It was clear to us through our conversations and discovery that this was God’s call on our life. I had to lay my will down and submit to His. My will was for life to continue on as it was. I kind of liked it. His was different.

God is always dealing with sin in my life, including now, amidst the suffering. I felt that this cancer was a special calling and I needed special help, a consecration for the task. “Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee.” The result of my submission and consecration was peace. I am convinced this is where I am supposed to be. There is peace.

2. What are some of the helpful things you can share about dealing with unexpected trials or suffering? They really aren’t unexpected. At least from God’s perspective. I look back at my life and see many things that have prepared me for this point in time. Our children being independent and able to help. An intentional slow-down of our schedules months before. The pre-existing plan for both of our families to already be here on my surgery date (for Micalyn’s birthday). Jay’s business finally being at a more self-sufficient stage.

This is a God-appointed trial that he has prepared me for. Even a couple of weeks before diagnosis, in my mentor group, I had prayed to be a woman of faith, because I didn’t feel like I had dealt with major struggles/trials in my life. I don’t know if this trial was an answer to that prayer or not, but it certainly is now a reminder to me that God was preparing my heart in advance for this trial.

3. What have you learned about God through your illness? He is faithful. His word is powerful and sharp. He provides for his people through his people.

One year ago in March we had 11 days in the month over 70 degrees, 3 of which were actually over 80. That all happened in what was technically winter. The spring equinox is tomorrow. That means spring is here, right? Yes, it officially starts tomorrow. But like last year, things aren’t always what they seem.

Tara has a stage 4 ovarian cancer diagnosis; seems like it should be solemn around here. It isn’t. Tara is in pain from the shingles; seems like she should be in a bad mood. She isn’t. I am bearing the load of parenting while balancing a busy work load; seems like I should be exhausted and irritated. But I’m not. Things aren’t always what they seem. It seems fairly regular around here. But it isn’t.

God is not surprised by any of this. It is exactly what it seems like to him. That gives us great comfort and peace. He sees around the next corner and just like he has all along, he is preparing us for that too. But if it seems to you like I am glad we are in this situation, like we are always holding strong, like we are rejoicing in our suffering, then once again, things aren’t always what they seem.

Thank you for your prayers and encouragement.

Over the last few weeks I had fought off a bad cold (maybe influenza) that has caused me to have to stay away from Tara. We couldn’t risk her weak immune system. I have felt like a leper in my own home, avoiding contact of any form with the woman I love. We have missed the intimacy of a kiss for 18 days, by far the longest we have ever gone since we were married. I have to imagine that over 19 and a half years we probably kissed 8 times per day, averaging the days we have been a part with the days we couldn’t stop kissing. That is about 57,900 kisses in a row, ending 18 days ago.

That’s our old record. The new record started today. The kisses today were different though. These were first kisses of sorts. Tingly to my toes kisses. But kisses with no expectation of more. These were enough for now. Before today, I only imagined kissing Tara like this when we are 80 years old. I didn’t look forward to that as much as I do now. I imagined it more stale, as a duty to her out of respect for the years we had been together. But now I understand more and I long for those days of too. Yes, deep respect, but overwhelming love and intimacy.

I long to be more intimate with Tara again. That’s about as much as I’ll say in a blog. But I can say that this is another way that God has blessed us. We are understanding love at deeper levels and now the kiss too is understood at a deeper level. I imagine we will understand even more as the weeks pass.

Thank you to those who have sent your locations to us. If you haven’t yet, please do. What an encouragement for Tara to hear all the places people are praying for her. Once we have all the pins in the map, we will take a picture and show you what we see.

I can hear the movie script. One young man alone with 4 beautiful young women (not what you are thinking so far). Snowed in and looking for anything to do (still not what you are thinking). When the games and the piano no longer entertain, they begin plotting to annoy each other in any way possible. The emotions wear thin and you will not believe what happens.

That was our kids today. Somehow Tara and I still enjoyed just being with them. As I sit now, I hear Lewis in the bath downstairs and it sounds like high tide against the harbor. Waves are splashing everywhere. Jenna and Andrean are screaming (with joy thankfully) as they run around with imaginations wild; playing something, but I can’t tell what. Esther is playing a game on the iPad while talking to us. Micalyn is getting her stuff ready for school tomorrow. The real drama has calmed down for the day.

“Cabin fever” is a term describing a claustrophobic reaction that takes place when a person or group is isolated and/or shut in a small space, with nothing to do for an extended period. The term describes the extreme irritability and restlessness a person may feel in these situations. We have plenty to do, we just don’t feel like doing it. We could read, play music, play games, do a craft or any number of things. But just sitting here sounds better. I don’t know if you can call that cabin fever.

I am compiling a list of places (city, state and country) where people are praying for Tara. I am putting pins on a map for Tara’s encouragement. If you are not from the Rochester, MN area, would you please comment on the blog and simply write your city and state (and country if out of the US).

Thanks for your continued prayers and encouragement.

Saturday. Our Sabbath. A day that we rest and worship. We look forward to this day all week. Unlike last week, Tara had the strength to go to church. Being there with her is still powerful for me. It forces me to closely examine the words I hear, sing and say there. Will I say things I don’t believe? No. Rather, I say it with a flood of emotion. Like a grateful patriot uttering the pledge of allegiance or singing the national anthem. Tears often stream. Like a groom saying his vows, looking into the eyes of his bride. Weeping is common. When the words connect so deeply with what you feel.

If I had the perspective of this page of our lives when I spoke the words “… for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health…”, I would have wept a river. I would have looked Tara in the eyes and said, “We can make it. I love you and I want to take this journey with you.” The hardship is easily worth our family and our love.

Tara’s battle now is to gain strength. Her body is no longer in survival mode only. There is room for more. She is working on eating less but more often, eating the right foods, and pushing her stamina. Its tiring and the progress is slow. But it is there. Her distended belly is starting to shrink, meaning it is holding less fluid. The shingles, well they’re a pain in the butt, literally. But this too shall pass.

She is able to love life. I washed her hair tonight, at least what’s left of it. I told her that my hands looked like I dipped them in glue then grabbed a gorilla. Covered in hair. That could have gone either way, but she laughed…thankfully. She hears many times daily that she is beautiful. Lewis has been a great comforter, often rubbing her shoulders and saying, “Mom, I love you. Can I pray for you?” Having Jenna, Andrean and Esther cuddle with her today while watching a movie blessed her. She says how much more she appreciates things, and how she will never take for granted the little things, like easily going to the bathroom, or getting dressed, or anything else that is more difficult right now. This was the mood of her day. Gratefulness. Appreciation. Joy.

So now she sleeps. Another day down in the battle. We are going to make it. Thank you God for daily sustaining us and reminding us of your goodness.

Another week under our belt. Nothing fancy about this particular day. Tara was able to go shopping this afternoon with Micalyn and a friend and her mom. While Tara rested tonight, the kids and I made it to our church small group, enjoying the friendship and conversations. I guess this could be called a happy friday even though there was no pizza or movies.

Tara is ready to have her sickness not be the main topic of conversation. It is natural for people to want to know how she is doing, but she really wants for people to ask about her kids, her husband, her opinions, and stuff like that. She want’s to ask others how they are doing.

This was day 44. God sustained us again today.

Those of you who know Tara, know how sweet she is. There could not be anyone nicer. She is a woman of faith who loves God and serves people. She is a great mother; a loving and supportive wife; a friend who gives of herself. Her yes is yes and her no is no. She thinks the best of others. She works hard; man does she work hard, keeping the business of our home and teaching our children.

You might be tempted to ask why. Why Tara? Why cancer? For some reason we haven’t felt like asking those questions; until last night. In the discomfort of the night, the questions of doubt came to her for a brief time. Its not like it was the worst pain she has felt; nor the most hopeless news; nor was she just tapped with bad chemo drugs. The feelings just came. It was brief. It was foreign. But it was real. The weariness from nearly 2 months of discomfort accumulated at that point in time. Seeing her body broken and in a weak condition, riddled with blisters from shingles. Its only natural to feel that way, right?

I remembered back to the first few weeks of this journey where our emotions were high and we were newly broken. We knew only one place to turn; Scripture; The Psalms, Romans 8 and more. So I opened the sacred book and I read out loud, like summoning a spirit, but finding it already surrounding us, holding us up and interceding for us. It was like the writer was identifying with our suffering. Words perfectly in synch with our feelings. Peace poured over us. Sleep overtook Tara.

And joy came in the morning. That feeling of relief and freshness. The entire day turned out to be encouraging to Tara. Chemotherapy went great. We shared an early lunch together. And now she is feeling like she wants to get up and do something. Thanks God for refreshment.

When the morning comes on the farthest hill
I will sing His name, I will praise Him still.
When dark trials come and my heart is filled
With the weight of doubt, I will praise Him still.

For the Lord, our God, He is strong to save
From the arms of death, from the deepest grave,
And He gave us life in His perfect will,
And by His good grace, I will praise Him still. – Fernando Ortega

Last night Tara spiked a temperature. We were told that if she gets a temp of 100.5 degrees or more, treat it like an emergency. We checked often watching the readings go from 100.1 up to 100.6. We kept saying if it goes up one more degree, we are going to the ER. Over the next 30 minutes, it dropped back down, thankfully, and we stayed home.

We suspected the temperature had something to do with a rash that she had gotten over the last few days, which was progressively getting worse. On her back side the rash bumps were coalescing into large reddish brown areas. So today Tara followed the doctor’s advice and went in. The trips to the hospital are becoming quite frustrating for her. Being diagnosed with shingles topped off the frustration.

The bright side is that since she had to go in today, they got the blood work done that she was supposed to do tomorrow before chemo. Also, because of the shingles, she will get her own room during treatment tomorrow (insert subtle smile here). It really is amazing how she deals with stuff like this. I just overheard her respond to an inquiring friend, saying, “Its okay. Its not my family. Its just me and I will heal.”

Round 4 of chemotherapy is tomorrow morning. She is flying solo this time, and is nearly giddy about having some time alone to just rest during treatment. My dad will be dropping her off and picking her up. This is kind of a big step in the recovery process. Confidence to handle it on her own is a big thing. Only 2 weeks ago, we were pushing her in a wheelchair everywhere she went. Then a week ago she was walking with my arm to hold on to. Tomorrow, on her own strength. Next week, who knows. Maybe she’ll be taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Tuesday night is story and/or song night in our home. When I need to come up with something creative I typically call on a good spoonerism. A spoonerism is when you switch the first sound of two different words. For example the story character tonight was Jewis Lames (instead of Lewis James). Jewis was a cowboy who would ride from town to town defending all that is good. Tonight he defended a lady who had her money taken by a gang of thieves. Jewis (with his brave father) outwitted the crooks and brought them to justice. This particular character has gotten a lot of mileage through the years. I even catch Lewis playing Jewis Lames, usually holding one of his toy guns, at times during an average week.

Words, twisted or plain, can be powerful. I captured my 13, 11, 10 and 8 year old daughters, and my 5 year old son with a simple story. They couldn’t leave. They wanted more. I could have kept the younger ones for hours if I had the energy. The older kids…not so much. Words have a limit as you get older. You are less gullible, less trusting, less believing. For example, I can tell my 10 year old daughter that she is beautiful and her face lights up. I tell my wife the same thing, and she first takes inventory of how she feels. She may or may not believe me.

Things are going well for Tara. She is getting stronger every day. But her body still feels weak and broken and that discourages her. There is still plenty of joy. We are refining the words we say to each other and our family and friends; practicing to make them more useful. Life is too short to mince words. We want them to count.

Oh that the words we say, hear and read would be penetrating to our souls. What words have power to affect our lives? Spoonerisms that might capture our imagination? We are older now. We have heard it all. The words that still hold power for us are words from God. Tested words. Ones that have saved souls before, and will again. Ones that have healed and have also given comfort to the grave. Other words that impact us are from selfless family and friends who serve us. There are very few words that they say, but because of their actions, those few words give us great joy and encouragement.

Speaking of too many words, I need to get to sleep.