Here we go again.

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This blog site came into existence during the summer of 2009, a few weeks before we learned of my husband Nate’s pancreatic cancer.

We were grateful to have a cyber-place already established where friends and family could be updated during his six weeks of illness.

It would have been impossible to tend to all the emails, texts, and calls wanting to know how he was doing.

Seven years later, this same blog came in handy once again for the same purpose. My sister Mary had contracted cancer, and we used it as a way to keep people current on how she was coping.

And now we find ourselves at the same place again, this time for the firstborn of our seven children, Nelson. It was less than two weeks ago that we learned why he had been feeling bad: He, too, had cancer.

Nelson has been robust and healthy throughout his 49 years. He ran marathons, swam a mile each day, and ran multiple miles with joy. He had a physical job with Youth With A Mission in Kona, Hawaii, and was on the go daily…and sometimes well into the night.

That is, until now.

Ten days ago, Nelson, with his wife Ann Sophie and their baby Will, were happily living and working in Kona, Hawaii on the Big Island. They were shepherding young people through a YWAM work program coupled with spiritual guidance that changed their lives forever.

We had plans to be together this July during their vacation time, but God put us together sooner than expected. In just a few days, here’s what has happened:

  1. Nelson, Ann Sophie and little Will, 10 weeks old, flew to Minneapolis, Minnesota to spend some time at cousin Luke’s home there, learning about the Mayo Clinic.
  2. Nelson became a patient at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN.
  3. Nelson, Ann Sophie, Will and I rented an apartment together that is only 6 minutes from Mayo’s.
  4. A group of hard working, cheerful people came together to move us in, donating furniture to our empty apartment. (More on this tomorrow.)
  5. In our first three days, Nelson has seen five different specialized doctors who each took a great deal of time with us. And he’s seen multiple nurses and imaging techs during the process of testing and fact-gathering about his cancer. The goal is to determine where the cancer began and thus what the treatment should be. We will know those things by early next week.

So…together we hope to write this daily blog, letting people know how Nelson and his young family are doing. We’re grateful they have so many friends who’ve already shown their love in both tangible and intangible ways. To all of you, we say a resounding THANK YOU! We couldn’t have done any of this without you…and especially without cousin Luke.

“Carry each other’s burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)

 

To Be Understood

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Toddlers fascinate me. Children between the ages of one and three can be more fun to watch than a good movie. As they begin to walk, explore, and taste new foods, they do it all with captivating charm. But my favorite is to recognize their first bits of language, parroting what they’ve heard while trying to form words their tongues haven’t tried before.

Little by little they begin to put words into sentences. “My do it. That mine. Me want that.”

A few years ago, I remember asking one of my toddler grands a question. “Emerald, did mommy fix your pretty hair today?”

Her response was, “I think it is.”

Close.

But I understood what she meant, and that was good enough.

The same is often true of our conversations with God. He might say, “Will you do what I’m asking?”

And I might answer, “I think it is.”

What do I mean? Maybe it’s, Yes, I’ll do it, or Yes, but maybe later, or Yes, but not in the way you’re asking.

No matter how I answer, God knows what I mean. In a sense, that’s good, because all of us long to be understood. But does it go both ways? How good am I at understanding him?

I remember with Emerald that as she first learned to talk, I often failed to understand her. That produced frustration in both of us. Eventually I learned to say, “Show me.” She would take my hand and lead me to the subject of her words, and that helped.

It’s interesting to note how important words are to God. One of Jesus’ names is the Word. But amazingly, he uses words much like we do – although each of his words packs a power ours never could. Because of that, we ought to pay close attention to every word he says and try our best to understand him — and respond appropriately.

Toddlers eventually learn to talk so everyone can understand. No more guessing. I do confess, though, that sometimes God’s words to me can still be confusing. When they are, my best response is to figuratively take his hand and say, “Show me.” And he will.

“As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like.” (Luke 6:47)

A Surge of Joy (con’t. from yesterday)

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Weeks after I’d misplaced the church key, I was dusting my dresser top while struggling to hold half-a-dozen things. Picking up more items as I pushed the dust cloth along, I accidentally nicked a full glass of water, toppling it. The swoosh was so forceful that the water knocked a dozen pairs of earrings off my decorative dresser tray, across the dresser, and onto the floor—like bowling pins smacked by a heavy ball.

The water flowed under the lamp and splashed over an embroidered makeup case. It soaked a stack of important papers and a clean, folded shirt. One quick move had morphed into a 20 minute clean-up.

Tossing my armload of stuff on the bed, I ran for a bathroom towel, chiding myself for such a blunder. Once the worst of it was mopped up, I spread out a dry Kleenex and began hunting for wet earrings. Three were missing their mates, so I began crawling around on the soggy carpet, feeling for these tiny items. One, then two popped out of the shag, but where was the third? Would I have to squeeze myself beneath the dresser to find it?

Under this particular dresser I store extra packs of wet wipes, the kind used for sticky toddler fingers and messy diapers. With my cheek pressed on the carpet and my arm stretched as far as it would go, I could barely touch them. But one by one, I pushed them aside. When I moved the very last package, there was the third earring—leaning on the church key.

I grabbed that key, scooted out from under the dresser, and clutched it to my heart as if it was the Lord himself. “God! You did it! You showed me!” and I started crying, a mix of astonishment and delight. God Almighty had directly connected with a hapless old woman to give her back what she’d lost.

 

As I cried there on the wet carpet, both hands protecting the key, I realized again that God is aware of my every need and will meet each one, eventually. He’s on my side and is always willing to help.

After I got hold of myself, the key and I walked to the computer screen and removed the $5.00, putting it in my purse for Sunday’s offering. After all, it was God who directed me to find what was lost, so the reward belonged to him.

I think I know why God put so many stories in the Bible about lost things being found. Though a wave of sparkling joy had surged through me when I saw that key, it probably can’t compare to the joy that surges through him every time a seeking soul finds him.

Jesus said, “I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10)