It’s good to be home.

Posted on by


We are astounded by the loving care lavished on us over the last ten days by family, friends, neighbors and even total strangers. The impact is profound when we hear of groups coming together to pray for us, or when another person says they’ve been praying every hour of the day. We just can’t get over it.

Our fridge and freezer are stocked with food I didn’t make. We are set for weeks to come! Our mailbox is full of encouraging words and nourishing Scriptures. Also in the mail are gifts: worship CDs, uplifting poems, gift cards. One envelope contained a large check directed toward the travel expenses of our children as they make their way home: $700 for seven children. We are speechless.

Today as we drove to Chicago from Michigan, we enjoyed the company of Nate’s brother, Ken, who is staying with us for a while. The two of them have a long, positive history, and Ken’s arrival yesterday gave us all a boost.

After several months of not seeing his only sibling, Ken wept as he hugged Nate, who comforted him in his mix of grief and love by saying, “It’s ok, Ken. Take all the time you need.” The dramatic physical change was excruciating for Ken to see.

Today was not easy for Nate. He was injected with a long tube of radioactive dye at 10:15, then underwent radiation #4 at 11:00, followed by a full body bone scan that was supposed to take place at 2:00 but didn’t kick off until 3:20. Not having expected such delay, we hadn’t packed his pain medication. It ran out when he was on the table under the massive scan camera, and his agony spanned the better part of that hour.

After it was over, the staff kindly found him two bags of ice for his back pain, and we hustled him into the wheelchair and off to the car for the long ride home in rush hour traffic. Although Ken and I were worn out, Nate was worn out times ten. Yet as we motored toward Michigan, he spent nearly 40 minutes in several business phone conversations, trying to put out fires and give legal counsel to those calling his cell phone who didn’t know of his cancer.

Arriving home, the intoxicating aroma of pot roast and potatoes welcomed us. Just as meaningful were the vacuum lines in the carpet and the scent of pumpkin spice candles. Nelson had built a fire on this cold, rainy evening, and the scene whispered, “You’re home now. All is well.”

Mary had been busy again. Clean, folded laundry was piled high. The dog was missing, which meant he was on a walk with her. Beds were made, and most impressive, 26 chocolate puddings sat on the counter (next to a warm apple pie).

The best was yet to come, however, when the front door opened and Linnea, Adam and Skylar walked in, all the way from Florida, chauffeured from the airport by Klaus. Mary and Bervin joined us for dinner, and we sat in a circle in the living room, centered around Nate in his lazy boy. (Straight chairs around the dining table are too painful now.)

After a yummy meal, Nate wanted to go right to bed. Once he was settled in, he and I read email and snail mail from far and near. And as he drifted off to sleep, the following email sentence hung in the air:

“We think we know what roads there are to travel, but God can lead us even when there are no paths.”

Today God led us along a path we didn’t want to follow, but the way was dotted with blessings: praying friends, a mailbox full of goodies, a brother pushing Nate’s wheelchair, two bags of ice for pain, a stocked freezer, a clean house, a crackling fire, our grandbaby and her parents, and a road that led back home.

“You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” (Psalm 16:11)

Singing in the bedroom

Posted on by

As Nate was getting dressed this morning, I was across the room organizing his closet, bringing the most comfy clothes to the middle and sliding the suits to the end. All of a sudden he began to sing, very softly and to himself. I stopped what I was doing and listened.

Nate is tone deaf and hasn’t sung in church for years, after one condemning experience. He was trying to sing on-key (without success) when the lady in front of him turned all the way around to look directly at him and make sure he saw her disapproval. He stopped mid-chorus and hasn’t sung in church since.

He knows the words to most of the songs in the hymn book (along with the words to all of the Elvis Presley tunes). He’s also aware of his tendency to sing off-key and knows this makes on-key singing difficult for those around him. But I’ve tried to convince him our worship singing arrives in heaven as melodious music, no matter what the ability of the songster. (I’m not sure about the Elvis songs.) Although we’ve all encouraged Nate to sing, nothing can convince him.

TODAY, however, he was singing. The tune was nothing I recognized, and maybe it was just miscellaneous notes strung together. But as I listened, it loosely resembled a chorus we sang often at Moody Church while I was growing up:

“Trusting as the moments fly,

Trusting as the days go by,

Trusting him whate’er befalls,

Trusting Jesus, that is all.”

Maybe our new slow-release pain pills were doing a fabulous job. I prefer to think it was the Lord reaching down with yet another gift. Against all logic, he blessed Nate with joy at his core, deep in his heart, despite the horrendous circumstances of his deteriorating physical life.

I got a gift this morning, too. Having awoken with tears trickling out even before I opened my eyes, I was lifted from that low place to a place of well-being, right at the start of another difficult day.

“The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him.” (Nahum 1:7)

Bearing burdens

Posted on by

The hospital we’re using for radiation treatments is located in a labyrinth of superhighway lanes, on/off ramps and directional signs. We’ve made many mistakes trying to find a fool-proof route but nailed it today, making good time from Michigan and arriving early for the appointment.

Parking attendants were cheerful, offering to park our car free of charge, a special perk for radiation patients. Inside the front door a warm greeting awaited behind the desk, with our doctor and his resident standing just beyond that. It was as if we were arriving to a happy social occasion.

Treatment #2 went off without a hitch, and so far there’s been no skin damage to the three sites. The nurse gave Nate a quick physical: BP good, pulse good, blood gases good but another five pounds lost in a week, which now totals 44. She suggested we set up a meeting with their nutritionist to design a high calorie eating plan for Nate. Chocolate pudding, here we come.

During a meeting with our doctors, the last part of today’s appointments, they learned of a fall Nate had had yesterday. He’d lost his balance and hit his head hard on a door frame as he landed. To be safe rather than sorry, the doctor recommended a brain scan, completed today if possible. “Just in case there is a small bleed, we need to know. The last thing we want is to add anything to his health burden.”

As the staff worked to set up the scan, Nate and I returned to the radiation waiting room where we met my lawyer-brother Tom and brand new lawyer Rob, for a quick meeting. Tom and Rob had come to remove business pressure from Nate’s mind by learning more about Nate’s legal cases. They are gradually taking them over. My brother and my husband have officed together for nineteen years. “You’re a fixture around there,” Tom said, “and everybody really misses you.”

Although I pretended to read two new booklets on radiation and nutrition, I enjoyed peeking at these three legal eagles as they put their heads together over accordion folders and pages of notes. Two things happened: 1) a massive burden was transferred from Nate’s shoulders to theirs, and 2) Nate’s pain meds began to wear off, which quickly showed in his pinched expression. At the end of ninety minutes, they closed the books, and we left for the brain scan. Nate’s exhaustion required a wheel chair to get him down the long halls to the imaging center, but in less than an additional hour, the scan was completed. As for results, no news will be good news.

When we arrived home, dinner was waiting. My sister had produced another spaghetti feast! Nate only ate a few bites, but just the thought of spaghetti on his plate for several more nights brought him pleasure. In the freezer, we learned later, were meals to last a long time! Friends had baked and frozen many goodies, lovingly lifting burdens from my shoulders. It had been another day full of blessing and benefit.

“Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)