He has a plan

I apologize in the long period of no blog posts, no newsletter, and minimal social media photos posted. I had a blog post written up near the end of January, but I wanted to wait to see how things played out before sharing too much. Here it is now:

1/19/21

Cancer is a butthead.

Sorry for the “language”, but that phrase sums up my feelings the best I know how to. I have cried most of the days away, hit my head on the pillow with tears in my eyes, and wake up with the streams still flowing. Just thinking, writing, or saying the word “cancer” brings tears to my eyes.

Back in October, I got a biopsy of a small marble-sized bump on my lower back. The dermatologist was surprised that it wasn’t a pus-filled bubble, but firm like a little pebble. She didn’t take much, gave me a stitch or two, and sent me back to Guatemala. It came back mid November as inconclusive, meaning a bunch of people looked at it and couldn’t tell what it was. So, I found myself looking at flights for early December to get it fully removed. A surgeon, in office, took out not only the bump, but the surrounding skin: above, below, and underneath the lump, leaving me with about two dozen stitches, maybe 3 inches long, and I was sent back to Guatemala.

Over a month later, the Monday of all Mondays, we received the results: melanoma. They don’t know if it was fully taken out during my last operation, or if it will require further treatment or surgeries. That Monday night, I maybe got a half hour of sleep, tossing, turning, praying, and worrying the entire night. 24 hours later, I was looking at flights. Not for a usual one or two week visit full of happy reunions, but a one-way back to Dallas the following week, unsure of what’s to come with tests, surgeries, exams, and possible treatment.

I’m not gonna lie, this week has been filled with a LOT of tears. A LOT of fears. A LOT of worries. A LOT of doubting. A LOT of unknown. A LOT of stress. A LOT of nerves. A LOT of pondering. A LOT of pretending to be strong around kids, communities, and fellow volunteers, while hiding my heartache. But, also a LOT of love. A LOT of care. A LOT of support. A LOT of prayers. A LOT of scripture reading. A LOT of worship music. A LOT of encouragement. A LOT of hugs (in person and through email, text, video chats, etc). A LOT of community, both nearby and distant, thinking of and praying for me while I struggle through these thoughts, feelings, and the unknown.

I don’t know what the next days, weeks, or months will hold, but I know WHO holds them. Whether the initial test comes back negative, and I’m back in Guatemala next week, or I am moving back to the states to undergo radiation, chemotherapy, hospital stays, and a bunch more for the next couple months (or years), HE HAS A PLAN. Only He knows what this experience will bring for me, for those medics who will be treating me, for the community that will be supporting me, and for the friends I meet along the way who may be facing a similar experience. I may temporarily off of the global mission field, but I still have a mission. To fight. To stay strong. To keep faith. And to be willing and able to share that faith with any who cross my path.

The Monday I got the news, I slept about a half hour. From those 30 minutes of rest, I clearly remember my dream. It was a voice of one of my pastor friends saying to me, “You inspire me, you encourage me, you’ve made a difference…” I am keeping my mindset on those words, to help inspire, encourage, and make a difference for those around me on the journey that lies ahead.

I’ve got this.

God’s got this.

My prayer warriors have got this.

My medical team’s got this.

We’ve got this.

It takes a village to raise a child. Thanks for being part of my village.

Guatemala, I will be back.

Casa Shalom, I will be back.

We Help Children, I will be back.

Volcano victims, I will be back.

Voy a regresar.

“Why am I discouraged?

Why is my heart so sad?

I will put my hope in God!

I will praise him again-

my Savior and my God!”

Psalm 42:11

—-

3/6/19

I am happy to say I am back at home, in Guatemala, with all my kiddos, friends, ministries, and communities.

February 7 was my initial surgery. I got a good portion taken out of my lower back where the original lump was, and also a few minor cuts to see if anything has spread to the other side into neighboring lymph nodes up front. It wasn’t an easy recovery, with more than a week of bed rest, weekly checkups, and a follow up minor surgery a few weeks following to fix what had not been healing correctly.

February 15, I heard the greatest “no” of my life: no cancer! If I wasn’t almost naked, half wrapped in a hospital gown with a dozen or two fresh stitches in me, I would’ve been dancing and happily crying my way through the doctor’s office.

Thank you to each of you who sent me a thought, prayer, encouraging message, or a shoulder to cry on during the past month and a half. It was greatly appreciated and felt. I thank God for the community He has placed me in full of people who deeply love and care for me! Even thought I am cancer free, I am still living with the mentality of the words from the dream, “You inspire me, you encourage me, you’ve made a difference…”. May these words continue to carry me through complete healing of my recent surgeries and emotional lows and highs.