In retrospect

A dear friend emailed today, reminding me that I have been lackadaisical in providing updates about the status of our family. I feel as though we have been at sea in the midst of a storm. During the roughest patches, it seemed as though my sole responsibility was to make sure our small boat stayed afloat. As the storm clears, my first inclination has been to catch my breath and appreciate the break rather than let the people on solid ground know that our vessel is still aright. But here we go.

Heather is now 3-1/2 months post-diagnosis. Things moved rapidly from diagnosis to mastectomy to chemotherapy. In fact today, she completed her 6th of 8 treatments, so we are on the downhill side. From my perspective, her first treatment was the worst and they have progressively improved such that there are days she feels nearly normal. She is much less prone to fatigue and is almost never nauseous now. She lost her hair, which was trying, but she grows more confident day by day. Having cancer has given us an open platform to share our faith. We pray that this experience allows us to share God's word and that it may take root in those who do not know Him.

Tessa has now been home with us six weeks. As I previously wrote, I have been stunned at God's timing and providence. Tessa came home to us much sooner than she should have. Potential road blocks were cleared with ease, which can only be attributed to the power of prayer. Her adjustment to our family has been remarkable. She consistently sleeps through the night, eats well, and seems to genuinely love all of us. When I enter the house after work, her face exudes joy.

Interestingly, as many of you know, despite its relative rapidity, our adoption journey was somewhat circumlocutious. We initially set out to adopt a large sibling group, then considered state special needs adoption, followed by the pursuit of a healthy African-American infant from Alabama, and eventually settling on adopting a child with Down syndrome. We found a description of Tessa (healthy Ethiopian infant, probable mosaic Down syndrome) on a registry and without any additional knowledge felt compelled to pursue her. Early indicators certainly led us to believe she would have delays and likely DS, but within hours of meeting her, it was reasonably evident that she did not. We did have the birth-to-three program perform and evaluation and she seems to be developmentally on target with no hint of DS. She will likely walk soon, has already learned two signs (more and milk), and has a host of verbal sounds.

Grace and Ian have weathered this storm like champions. Grace is about midway through a program called CLIMB a cancer support program for kids. Ian has also been in tow, mostly because they serve good food like McDonalds.

So, on this cold January afternoon, I turn and retrospect over the past several months. My writing demonstrates that I have experienced have experienced a host of emotions. My emotions today are these:

Gratitude. I am deeply grateful for a God who loves me unconditionally and who allowed me to deepen my trust in Him through these few months. I am grateful for a wife who has handled the double shot of breast cancer and a new baby with amazing grace. On my prayer card for Heather, I wrote Proverbs 31:25 at the top, which says, "Strength and dignity are her clothing, she laughs at the time to come." Although there are days she does not feel particularly strong, or dignified, or confident enough to laugh, I see all of those characteristics in her. I am proud to call her my wife. I am grateful for three children who remain steadfast through this storm, unapologetically loving us and each other.

Peace. Though anxieties over every day life still creep in from time to time, I have felt more at peace. At the beginning, looking ahead to the trials, I felt a strong sense of apprehension. I knew I needed the Father, but I did not know what it might feel like to trust Him over time. Could He really help me overcome the difficulties? He patiently carried me along, reminding me that my trust in Him was well-founded and that no matter the outcome of trials, He will be at my side. Today, that leaves me feeling peaceful and confident in His sovereignty.

Joy. Life, in Christ, appears somehow richer to me now. Both loss through cancer and gain through adoption remind me daily that my joy is found in Christ. No matter how deep I may go or how high I may ascend, Christ is there and He is my joy. May that ever be true.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -I Thessalonians 5:16-18