We’ve been walking on a tight rope for 134 days. That’s how long it has been since Jeremy was first diagnosed with lymphoma. Right from the start our course was difficult and we have been players in a very serious balancing act. When Jeremy was first diagnosed, we were told he would’ve died within 24 hours had we not gone to the ER. We were told that his kidneys had failed and while the doctors believed they could help Jeremy, they didn’t know if time would be on their side. They didn’t know if Jeremy’s kidneys would recover so that Jeremy could start chemotherapy. Right from those early days, we’ve been given the message, “Yes, there is hope. We just don’t know if X,Y or Z will allow us to do what we need.”
We’ve been playing this balancing act for five months. The new dilemma: Jeremy’s lymphoma has returned but again he needs to get stronger, his counts need to recover, and he needs to be more stable in order for the doctors to attack the lymphoma. And the doctors continue to say “We have not hit a wall. There is still hope. We just don’t know how everything will play out.” It is hard to fully comprehend what the doctors are saying, especially knowing how much Jeremy has been through, how frail and weak he looks.
Hope is a double-edged sword. Hope is what gets me out of bed in the morning. It’s what gives me the energy to go through the day knowing there is a chance of good things to come. It is also the thing that I cling to so tightly, I can’t let go, I can’t enter “the dark side” and give up. It makes me keep going even when my body, mind and spirit are so very tired and unable to move. We can’t give up as long as we still have it. And for those of you who have had hope, you know that it doesn’t come in sizes. Hope is all or nothing.
As we enter this new phase and walk this new tight rope, our hope remains. Someday we will look back on these days, on the other side of all of this with whatever the other side looks like, and we will see that hope shining brightly. We will see this as a time of grace and mercy, of sufficiency, even in the midst of some of the most dangerous storms. Someday we will remember these days as hard and difficult but also special and wonderful, as we get to intimately experience the hand of God every single day. Like someone who lives through an epic battle or natural disaster, we will see this path behind us and think “Only by the grace of God did we make it through.” As hindsight is 20/20, we will look back on these days and see more clearly the miracles and mercies much more profoundly than we can see them now. And we will continue to thank him for His goodness to us on even our darkest days.
Thank you for praying with us as we walk this fine line. Pray for Jeremy’s strength, pray for comfort to his mind and body. Pray that even though he is unable to talk (and desperately wants to) he is content and patient with those of us trying hard to understand his needs. Pray he can use this time for special conversations with God. He is a strong, strong man. It is miracle he is still fighting, going strong and mentally engaged. God is with him and using this for his glory in all of our lives. Thank you for being a part of that.