It'll Be Okay

I'm here to tell you that it'll be okay. Trust me, it'll be okay. What? you ask. What will be okay? Everything. Whatever you have on your mind right now, or whatever is weighing heavy on your heart, it'll be okay. Whatever you might be worrying about right now, or have been worrying about for the past year, it'll be okay. I'm reminded daily by the people that I am friends with on Facebook that they are worried about some aspect of their life. People are struggling with job loss, loneliness, broken homes, health problems. But no matter what, it will be okay. Why do I know this? Because I know that God is in control of my life and the lives of everyone on earth. And while what you may be going through right now might be the worst thing you've ever had to face or deal with or be put through, it too will be okay because God has a plan for your life. Does that plan mean that you'll never be sad, or scared or hurt? Nope. Does that mean that those things that are making you sad, or scared or hurt can be used for God's glory? Yep, exactly. We don't know why things happen the way they do. God does. We don't realize just how perfectly things work out in our lives until we take a few minutes and a few deep breaths and look back on our lives and the unexpected turns that we've taken. I know that I could have never gotten to where I am right now in my relationship with my wife, my kids, my friends, my work, or my God without those hiccups, stumbles and twists in my life that I had absolutely no control over. This past year has forced me to face my worry and doubt head on. Never before has God's written word been so true. Read Matthew 6:25-34. Read it two or three times. I'm not going to tell what it says. I want you to find a bible and read it. And once you're done reading it, I want you to say to yourself, "It'll be okay." Insert whatever you're up against and say it. And trust me, the first time you say it, you probably won't believe yourself. But don't worry, the more you say it, the more you'll begin to believe it. And then some day you'll look back on whatever it was and realize just how okay you've become.

How It All Got Started

I asked for some questions to answer or story requests on my blog the other day. The first one I got was to tell about my engagement to Lori. I think she does a fabulous job telling this story so I won't completely rip her off. But I will tell you what was going on in my head leading up to the big night. At the time I was working a summer intern with the GDOT. The job site I was on was at the new interchange at what was soon to be the Mall of Georgia in Buford. For the past few months Lori and I had been wandering through malls, holding hands, being completely silly and looking at rings. When she found the "one" she tried it on, ooohed and aaaahed and then returned it to the glass case. That's when I had to start my planning. First off, how in the hell was I going to afford this thing? I wanted to spare no expense for my soon-to-be bride so I just had to have THAT ring. In my feeble mind I knew that the answer would be like so many other people's (that is until the economy recently crashed)....just put it on my credit card! Yeah, that was it, that would be perfect. I could put it on my card now and begin paying it off and would be done in no time. I mean really, I was approaching graduation from Georgia Tech, so I was bound to get offered a job right out of college making a zillion dollars or something like that. What was a couple of thousand dollars, right?

(At this point I am going to insert a little public service announcement. Credit Cards are Evil. Borrowing money is Bad. And this is true for two reasons. One, the bible clearly tells people how to handle their money and it says in Proverbs 22:7 "The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender." Secondly, the credit card companies are not charitable organizations. They are in business to make money, and lots of it. How do they do that? By suckering people in to thinking that they can have whatever they want right now with no worries. What's 20% interest among friends, right?)

So anyway, back to my story of the purchase. I had one little problem. My credit limit wasn't high enough. Looking back on my life, that was one of those times when God whispered in my ear to tell me that mine wasn't the best idea, but did I listen? Nope, I just brushed Him away and kept on going. In order to get around this little obstacle I called my god-mother, who at the time, just so happened to be the president of a bank that I happened to have a credit card with. In no time, I had all the credit I could ever ask for. Now it was time to seal the deal. I asked the guys I was working for if I could take a long lunch so I could go pick something up. The agreed and off I went. I bought the ring, put in the little black box and hid it so nothing could happen to it. At this point I kind of felt like Frodo Baggins with my "Precious" ring that seemed to call to me to constantly. I knew I could not let this ring stay anywhere but on Lori's finger and I had to make this happen NOW! So I decided that Thursday was going to be the day. And, I was going to ask her to marry me at the same place where we first met, Zesto in Atlanta. I called Lori that evening and convinced her that we needed to meet to have desert. We agreed to meet at the Varsity since it was about half way from my parent's house in Duluth and her parent's house in Fayetteville. Once we got there I convinced her that Zesto would be better than a chocolate shake from the Varsity, so we got in one car and headed off. Once we ordered I made sure we sat in the exact same same spot where we met. I told Lori I had to run to the bathroom real quick. I ran in and unwrapped the ring that had been burning a freakin' hole in my pocket all night. I was a nervous wreck because I had taken it out of the little black box and wrapped it in tissue paper so it wouldn't be too conspicuous in my pocket. I slipped it on my little finger and closed my hand into a sweaty fist so I wouldn't show it or drop it when I went back out. I was gone for what seemed like an eternity. I went back to our stools, took Lori's hand and recounted the first time we met when I blurted out "Would you marry me?" because she knew who Dale Earnhardt was. At this point I held up the ring for her and asked her if she really would marry me this time. Her eyes lit up, then slightly teared up. She grabbed me and kept saying, "Oh, baby. Oh, baby" I think she eventually said yes once the shock wore off.

(Here is another little side note. I never saw the goofy man that looked like the ugly mountain jugs that had distracted Lori during this whole time. I was too focused on not throwing up my Arctic Swirl because of my nerves)

We immediately left Zesto and headed to Fayetteville to show the ring off to her mom. And the rest is history.

And The Winner Is.....

A few weeks ago I did a contest on this here blog to see who could guess the outcome of my doctors appointment I had last Friday at Emory. It was a huge success since I had four people brave and bold enough to log in an entry. Well, I'm here to announce the winner.


And the winner is......ME! Well not really, my wife and Bethany pretty much tied, but since I'm the one who found out that I'm pretty much cancer free for now, that, by default, makes me the biggest winner of all. And if you want to get really technical, my wife pretty much nailed exactly what happened. But, since she does not drink coffee and is totally kicking ass on her new diet, I am going to hold another contest to see who gets the Starbucks gift card.

Actually, it is just me being lazy. I really like to blog, but I have been struggling with inspiration. I would love to write about something that you people of the blog-o-sphere would want to know or hear about. Ask me a question, request a favorite story, or just give an encouraging word and I'll pick the most thought provoking request as my winner. And maybe I'll throw in an additional gift card that will be a surprise to the winner, but don't worry, It'll be a good one. Thanks for hanging in there with me and helping me through a dry spell.

Don't Forget To Vote

There's only one week and counting until I go to the doctor. Only me and three other people have logged in a vote for my Starbucks gift card give away. Just tell me what you think the doctor will say and when my follow up visit will actually happen. This will be judged like The Price Is Right, the closest without going over will win. So far, I am in the lead, because it's my damn card. If you want to walk away with it though, tell me what you think will happen. I will accept guesses until 9:00 am on Friday, September 24th. Thanks for playing.

An Unscheduled Work Stoppage

In Sunday School the other day we were looking at the book of Hebrews. We've been going over it for several weeks now and were finally on the last chapter. We focused on the first three verses of chapter 13. The are as follows:

1. Keep on loving each other as brothers. 2. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it. 3. Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

I'm not going to go into a big long dissertation about all we talked about during our class but there are a few things that stuck out from the discussion. I was "bothered" by the part of entertaining strangers. I always have felt guilty for not doing enough things like stopping and helping stranded people on the side of the road or picking up hitchhikers. We talked about that and other thoughts people had regarding the topic. Then one of the guys in class said something that really stuck with me. He basically brought up the point that any time that we are gracious to strangers, are empathetic to others problems and plights, are willing to treat others with kindness in a public setting, or really perform any other act of decency, then we are "entertaining strangers" in the spirit of what the Hebrews writer was getting at. What a brilliant notion. I had never thought of it like that before. I couldn't wait to try that out. Little did I know that my opportunity would come just two days later.

Today on the way to a lunch meeting my boss got a call from a guy that used to work with us a few years ago and a few companies ago. He said that he wanted to come by our office and let my boss look over a list of things and a resume for a job he was applying for. That seems benign enough, except this guy can get you wrapped up in an hour conversation about a twenty second topic. My wife would say I'm guilty of that as well. Anyway, I digress. So all I could think about was how the productivity of my afternoon was completely shot and I was sure to get absolutely nothing done with him in the office. The guy showed up at our place at 1 o'clock and didn't leave until right at 5. And needless to say, I got NOTHING done. But I am so glad I didn't. When this guy came in he began to tell us what he had been doing since he lost his job in Florida a few months ago. For the next few hours my boss and I sat and listened to him tell us how he has been helping clean up his parents house three days a week at a time because his mother has pretty severe Alzheimer's disease. Her house is literally covered in piles of stuff that ranges from wedding china to old Subway wrappers all intermingled because she doesn't remember what is what or where it goes. My friend sat and got choked up as he told about how his mother had been taken from him and how she can't remember anything that has happened recently. At other times he sat and sobbed almost uncontrollably as he told us of his emotional roller coaster where there were times when his mom would do things so strange that he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Today he did both. Not only was this guy dealing with not having a job anymore, but now he was going back and forth to his parents house in Augusta, GA several times a week, sleeping on the floor in utter filth because he couldn't get to the furniture or the beds because of all the "projects" that his poor mother was working on. All I could do was try and walk him through his broken thoughts and stories as the emotions poured out from him and do my dead level best to "entertain" this burdened soul for a few hours. When the day had come to an end, I hadn't gotten any work done, but hopefully I had provided a little comfort and much needed companionship. And like verse 3 says, "I will remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners..." And I will remember my friend in my prayers as he continues to face his "prison" located somewhere in Augusta, GA that looks at lot like his childhood home.

Going on the record

I have a doctors appointment at Emory on September 24th. Why? you ask. It's because I had my six month scan and check up with my endocrinologist a few weeks ago. At the check up they did blood work, a body scan and an ultrasound of my lymph nodes. When I met with the endocrinologist to get all the results she said that my blood work looked good. There was no trace of the enzyme that is present when thyroid cancer cells are active. That is very good. My body scan was okay. The two places that showed up on my first scan in the area of my lymph nodes did not show up this time. That is good. But, there was a greater concentration of radioactive iodine in the thyroid bed than before. That could be from regular thyroid tissue that was left behind, or it could be from regenerating cancer cells, or it could be scar tissue. But seeing something there is no great shock to anyone. At least my lungs aren't glowing or some other random place. Finally, my ultrasound came back weird. A new lymph node that was not showing up before is now visible on the right side of my neck. What does that mean? Not sure. The endocrinologist said that it could be cancer or it could just be the lymph node doing what a lymph node does. But because she wasn't sure she wanted me to go back to Emory and have them look at everything again. So here comes the prediction. I predict that I will show up for my appointment with the ENT surgeon on the 24th and will be told that he has looked over my results from the endocrinologist and he thinks things look pretty good. But because his people didn't do any of the tests (mainly the ultrasound) he will want Emory to do their own ultrasound to compare to the "baseline" ultrasound that they did during the summer. So, he will have his people get with the radiology department some time and they will be in touch with me to schedule a time for me to come in for another ultrasound to be accompanied by a fine needle biopsy to see what they really have on their hands. Now, this is where you people that are reading this come in. There are a scant few registered followers and a few more blog stalkers lurking out there. I want to do a little contest. The prize is a Starbucks gift card that I have been carrying around in my wallet for months. I want you to comment on two things: 1 - What do you think the doctor will say to me on the 24th; and 2 - what date do you think I will have a follow up appointment with the radiology department. Ive already told you what I think will happen. I would love to know what you think and have a little fun with all of this crap. And don't worry, you don't have to be follower to be eligible to win the gift card. Can't wait to see what you all think.

Did you hear that?

Did you just hear that? Wait, listen again. What you are hearing is a long, deliberate, restrained sigh that is coming from me right now. My wife knows what this means. And that's pretty much all I can muster to write about for now.

Getting Ready for Tuesday

I have a doctors appointment tomorrow. Tomorrow at 11:15 am. And that appointment may be a very pivotal one in my life. But honestly, I'm kinda to the point that I just don't give a damn. I am so ready to just get back to something normal. So what is normal? I don't know. Being completely healthy is normal I guess. Be really "sick" may be normal. I just hope that tomorrow will be one or the other. I'm pretty fed up with the whole, "I'm not really sure what to do with you" crap that I keep getting from my doctors. I'm tired of the, "let's do some more tests and wait around and see what turns up" nonsense. And another thing, I'm pretty freakin' tired of getting lumped into an office full of old, grumpy, wheezy diabetics at the doctors office where I have to be tossed around like I'm one of the other dumb-masses (or dumb asses, take your pick) that needs hang out with the nurses for a few hours and drop off a few vials of blood, just because my day didn't have enough drama in it. I just want to jump up on top of the check in desk, kick that perpetually closed window in and scream, "Hey! How about a little service here, I've got cancer to deal with! I don't want to wait another two weeks to hear what the hell is wrong with me. And I sure as hell don't want to take one of your business cards to the pharmacy and have them fax back over a request for more of my medicine that I've run out of that has me teetering on the edge of sanity, just because you are too busy with all of the other nimrods that can't control their eating or blood sugar and can't seem to do anything to actually help me! You just want to do what is the easiest thing possible to get me to sit down or go away. But guess what, I'm standing right here, Do something productive for once!" I hate incompetence. And to think, I told my wife I really didn't have anything to blog about tonight. I guess I had a little more to get off my chest than I first thought. I think I feel better. Now, if I could just get my back to quit hurting.

Random Thoughts

Okay, I'll admit it. I've been a total loser when it comes to blogging. Honestly, I just haven't felt it lately. I guess since I've been in total limbo about the whole cancer lately, Ive been pretty uninspired. But, I have decided that instead of waiting on some major event in my life to write about, I would just start trying to write a little something each day about whatever was on my mind, cancer or not. So today I'm writing about church.

Today was Homecoming at church. Our church celebrated 55 years of existence. There were several people that had come "home" for the day. We had a combined service with everyone in one room today and it was Family Sunday. These last two facts are important for my story. First Family Sunday means that after Sunday School any kids that are older than Kindergarten get picked up and sent to sit with their parents during the service. Let's just say that getting Britton to sit still for an entire service without much of an outburst is quite a challenge. But today the new Children's Minister gave out coloring packets and crayons in Sunday School to keep the kids occupied. That was brilliant. My respect for her increased today.

Now on to the combined service. When we have a combined service both the Contemporary Service (or the Happy Clappy Service as it has been called) meets in the sanctuary with the Traditional Service (or the Old People Service). This is always interesting to put these two groups together. Whenever they are combined the worship music is either handled by the praise band from the Contemporary Service or its some strange conglomeration of both old and new music styles and sounds. But the interesting thing in all of this is to sit and watch the faces of the blue hairs as the band takes the stage with guitars and (insert the sound of gasping and fainting) drums. I'm convinced that before the service that someone hands out turd sandwiches for the old people to eat before the service. This is evident by the look on their faces during the worship music. For some reason if the feeble adult choir isn't singing "The Old Rugged Cross" then there's no way in heck that anything the praise band plays and sings could possibly stir any emotion or connection with Christ and his love and sacrifice for us. And actually, the more I think about it, it really pisses me off that those people cant get over themselves long enough to actually appreciate that there are some young people that are worshiping and loving the Lord and are excited about being in church. Wow, you are totally right, that is really something to look down upon. Not to mention, people actually leave the church after Sunday School if they know that we are having a combined worship service or if the youth are leading the worship because of all the rock and roll music. I can't think of a better way to be the hands and feet of Jesus. (Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice?) I'm gonna stop now. I'll come up with something else to rant about tomorrow.

All Packed And Ready To Go

At work today my boss told me of a family he heard about going through an unbelievably horrible time. While the family was vacationing in Yellow Stone they decided to go rafting in the Snake River. During a break the seven year old son got caught up in some rapids and was being pulled away from the group. The dad jumped in and saved his son and in the process was himself swept away and has not been found yet. The boy is beside himself and unwilling to leave the park where he last saw his dad. During our conversation, my boss looked at me and asked me if I had everything in order since you never know when it's your last moment. I knew what he meant. And actually the answer came to me with ease. Yes. First off, I know who my Lord and Savior is, Jesus Christ. And I believe that He is the Son of the Living God and through Him I will have eternal life. My answer came back to my boss with what appeared to be surprising quickness. Then I told him that since the whole cancer thing I have been forced to take a hard look at myself and all of my relationships. He told me that he had been thinking and he didn't kiss his son this morning because he was still asleep or even pet his dog. We both stood and thought about how quickly life can be taken away. I told him about the morning I went in for my surgery to remove my thyroid. My wife and I both took our kids to school that morning. I teared up in the driveway of the school as I watched those two beautiful children walk innocently into the school's front door. I made a very clear mental note of what they looked like because I realized that what I was seeing very well could have been the last image of my kids. I find myself doing more things like that. Not because I live my life in fear of death but because I realize how important things like that are to me. I try very hard to always tell my wife that I love her when we hang up on the phone even if I'm in the middle of meeting with a bunch of construction workers. It could be the last time either one of us ever say that to each other. I try to hug and kiss both my kids every morning and every night and tell them that I love them. I want to make sure that they hear that from me every day. It's just the little things like hugs and kisses that help me make sure that I have all my stuff packed and ready to go where ever my life might take me.

The Diet

As some of you know, I've been put on a low iodine diet to get me ready for my upcoming body scan. My body needs to be craving iodine so that the radioactive iodine tracer pill that I will take will be gobbled up by any (and hopefully none) remaining thyroid cells. So the doctor put me on a diet for effectively 4 weeks that pretty much eliminates any iodine from my diet. I won't bore you with all the details of the diet but basically I can't eat anything but fresh fruits and vegetables and a little meat that's been cooked at home without iodized salt. I was actually looking forward to starting the diet because I thought it would be a much needed cleansing of my insides. I've gotten kind of fluffy lately and not having a thyroid has made losing weight a little harder. Anyway, the diet started last Monday. My very sweet wife made it her mission to find healthy and creative meals to feed us every evening and bought me good stuff to take to work and eat. I've really enjoyed everything she's made so far. I rocked right along during the week thinking that this was going to be a piece of cake, not to mention I was dropping some pounds in the process as well. And then the weekend showed up. Since it was our first time ever eating all of our meals at home and not just running out for a quick dinner, we didn't shop for enough stuff to cook and actually ran out of stuff to make. Good problem to have but still a problem. So for our Friday night meal we decided to go out to eat with my dad at the only place we could think of that I could eat. We went to this salad place in Peachtree City and it's really pretty good. Except for the fact that I can't actually eat any salad dressings that I like. So my salad with oil and vinegar was pretty sparse and not very appetizing, but what are you going to do. Then Saturday rolled along and all I have to say is, just damn. We took our kids to Chick-fil-A for a treat for being such good troopers with the menu this week. They had nuggets and fries and I had a fruit cup with rotten grapes. So then after a few errands we had to go grocery shopping to stock up for the week. By this time it had been about 24 hours since I had eaten any real protein or anything with any substance. Walking through the grocery store looking at aisle after aisle of crap that I couldn't eat was making me hungry. And I mean really hungry. Like hungry enough to get a second helping of the Swedish meatballs at church on Wednesday night hungry. Hungry enough to eat green bean casserole. Hungry. And now I was getting really irritated too. I'll admit it, I was a big ole grumpy bitch. And we were shopping at Publix in Tyrone, which I hate. I hate that store. So now I'm hungry and in a pissy mood and trapped in a place that I hate. I could have blown a gasket at any moment. But, my wife was very tolerant and sympathetic to my situation and when we got home she made me some guacamole and cut up some fresh watermelon for me to eat. Then a little later she made some chicken for an early afternoon snack. That really helped a lot. So here I sit on a Saturday night craving a big greasy pizza with lots of meat and cheese but realizing that what I'm going through will all be worth it in the end. At least on this diet I can drink beer. So here's to a sweet wife and homemade guacamole. I'm heading to the fridge for a cold one.

The Beach

We just got back from the beach on Saturday. We stayed about a week in Panama City Beach and had an absolute blast. One evening as the sun began to set we all went out on the beach and walked around and looked for shells. The best shells we could find were never just laying out in the open where they could be easily picked up. All the really good ones seemed to be in the water about six inches below the surface. Because of this the waves were constantly tossing them around. You had to stay pretty focused on the waves, or at least the break in the waves, to see the big ones worth picking up. And every so often a rogue wave would come rushing in before we could get out of the way and completely soak us. Not that it mattered much, it was just one of the hazards of the hunt. As I looked for the shells I would thrust my hand down at what appeared to be good sized shells. Sometimes I came up with a really good one that was all in one piece and worth keeping. Sometimes it was part of a broken sand dollar or hunk of barnacle that wasn't really good for anything but seeing how many times I could skip it along the waves before it disappeared. As this activity continued I found myself walking farther and farther down the beach away from our condo. As I would find a shell or two in one spot I was compelled to move to a different location. It soon dawned on me that what I was doing was just plain silly. Why did I fell the need to keep moving? Had I actually found ALL of the shells worth keeping in that particular location? Was that now considered barren land after my bountiful harvest of empty critter homes? Surely I must move on to a much "better" place to find the good shells (Insert punchline from the movie Airplane here). My mind soon drifted off and I began to think about how what I was doing with the shells mimicked what I do in my regular day to day life. I always find myself meandering along looking for the next whole "thing" to collect or save. I seem to be constantly looking for the next fancy trinket to end up in a worthless box in a closet somewhere. All the while I've just wandered away from what really matters. God probably looks down at me as I look for the shells and chuckles to himself. He knows exactly what's there for me to find. He also knows that there's more there than I could ever want, need or stuff into my wave soaked shorts. He's probably thinking, "Why are you still searching? Don't you know I've provided all you will ever need? Just stand still and be patient. It's all right there at your feet if you'll just work at it." And that's something I need to remember each and every day, not just while standing on the beach with a pocket full of shells.

1 hr 5 min 20 sec

I ran the Peachtree Road Race for the first time this year in 1 hour 5 minutes and 20 seconds. I finally accomplished something that I have wanted to do for a long, long time. And it took getting cancer for me to get off my butt to do it. But the funny thing is, oddly enough, getting cancer has been one of the biggest blessings of my life. I know that it sounds crazy to put the words blessing and cancer in the same sentence, but that's how I feel. I've been able to grow closer to God, enjoy a deeper and more satisfying relationship with my wife and kids, see how much my friends and family love me. I've faced my fears and changed the way I approach problems in my life. A few years ago a friend of mine asked a question to a group of us. She asked us if we had any regrets in life. I thought about it for a second and then responded with a short answer. No. I have no regrets. I feel this way because I realized that everything that has ever happened to me in my life has shaped me into the person I am today. And if at any point along the way something would have happened differently then I wouldn't be where I am today. I wouldn't have my wonderful wife or my great kids or the friends that I hold so dear to my heart. I realized that God has had a special plan for me and for my life and yes, that has included thyroid cancer. And I am so thankful for that and for where it has and will take me. And I know that next year it will take me 6.2 miles down Peachtree in less than 50 minutes.

What should I pray for?

So I got to thinking again today. What should I really be praying for? And here is where this started. I have been working on this project for the past few days that has been giving me fits. When I got ready to turn the thing in today I was worried and nervous because it's a pretty big job and the info I have on it hasn't been very clear. So I decided to pray about the job and how I was feeling. And then I started thinking about what I was praying about. Should I really be praying about a project I was working on? Should I really be asking God to bless my efforts and give me wisdom in my decisions? Or should my prayers only be for healing and sickness? Or should I pray about everything that goes on in my life? Should I pray for missing car keys? Should I pray for a computer that isn't working right? Should I pray for guidance in my next financial decision? And after pondering this stuff for a while I came to the conclusion of yes. Yes I should pray about all of the mundane things that go on in my life. Yes I should pray about all of the little things that keep me up at night worrying. Because at the end of the day, prayer is really about talking to God. And I think that God wants nothing more than for us to snuggle up in his lap and tell him about our day, tell him all about what's on our minds and especially tell him what's scaring or worrying us.

Game Night

Last summer we started this thing with my parents where we get together one night during the week eat dinner and then play a board game with the whole family. I'm pretty sure that Haley came up with the idea so she could play some of the games she had been accumulating over the years. Anyway, we really had a great time with it so we re-instituted the weekly gathering again this summer. Last week my mom was on vacation and Lori had a hair appointment so game night was attended by me, Haley, Britton and my dad. We had a lot of fun as usual. We ordered pizza and then played Wits and Wagers. It is a fabulous game that can be played by anyone at pretty much any age. Normally when we play my dad does pretty well because you can arrive at a lot of the answers by applying logic and a little common sense. Haley, however, doesn't fare too well sometimes simply because a lot of the questions are about things she has never ever heard of before. But last week there was a round of play where Haley was kicking our butts. When the game was over me and dad were telling her how great she did. My dad told her, "You won that one all by yourself. We didn't let you win. I don't believe in letting someone win something. That way when you do win, you'll know you did it all on your own." Very wise words from the old man. And that got me to thinking about my life growing up. Sports have always played a big part in my family over the years. Some of my fondest memories growing up include some kind of ball being in motion at my grandpa's, either throwing the football or baseball in the front yard, or playing a game of hoops in the back. And over all of the years of playing with my dad he always beat me at basketball. Always. Did I mention always. It drove me crazy. My dad is 6'4" and played on his high school basketball team. They won the state championship at least once, if not twice while he was on the team. But the funny thing is that my dad couldn't jump. As I mentioned, my dad is 6'4" and when he played in high school he weighed about a buck sixty five. You'd think he could get up and throw it down. Not so. Bad genes I guess. At this point I need to mention that my dad is also one of the smartest people I know. Because of his mental prowess and inability to defeat gravity, he became a very cerebral ball player. His technique was flawless. He was all about the fundamentals and that made him good. And that also made him good for a long time. Because when most people got too old or out of shape to play with their kids, dad could still box out and post up and keep the ball away from the defender when he needed to. And the thing that always amazed me was his hook shot. My dad is left handed and with his size has a pretty big wing span. He could always back me down in the post and shoot that stupid hook shot that banked off the backboard. I could never, and I mean never, block or stop that shot. So growing up, most one-on-one games ended with me frustrated again that the old man showed me up despite my youth and ability. When I got into college I became very active and began working out, running and playing basketball a lot. I got in really great shape, the best of my life. I got pretty quick and could actually jump a little bit. But just a little because I inherited the jumping gene from my dad. So, after hooping it up in pick up games and intramural leagues, I finally decided to challenge my dad in the driveway one weekend. And boy, did I ever put it on him. I think the game was over in record time. So we played again. Same result, I whipped him. Finally after the third time of beating him, he told me he had enough, that it was fun, but he was too old for that anymore. At that moment my elation from finally beating my long time nemesis turned to real sadness. The hero was defeated and an era had come to an end. My dad was "too old for that anymore." He never let me win, he didn't believe in that. I actually beat him. But I quickly wished I hadn't. I wished I could take it back and let him win two out of three instead. But he wouldn't have wanted that either. That was the last time we ever played basketball against each other, just one on one. I miss that time with my dad. It gets me chocked up just finally writing about it even though it's been almost 15 years since that night in the driveway. But sports are still a big part of my family. Dad helped me coach my tee ball team this year. Having him out there with me and my son was one of the greatest experiences of my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I love my dad. I love him for the man he is. And I love him for the man that I have become because of him.

Community

My church had VBS this week. Haley and Britton both had so much fun. Especially Britton. He came home each day singing the songs and telling us what he had been learning. On Thursday I was riding in the truck with Britton when he informed me that at the end of the week he was going to get to sing on stage for VBS. He told me that he was going to sing on the little stage where we have community. I was a little puzzled by his statement but I soon figured out what he meant. He was going to get up in front of the big sanctuary and sing on the raised part that has the communion table. I was about to correct him and tell him that it's where we have communion and not community, but I thought is was really cute what he said and I let it go. Unfortunately, Britton woke up sick on Friday morning and was unable to go to the last day of VBS. He was crushed, not only because he couldn't go for the last day, but also because he couldn't get up and sing. But he was a real trooper and ended up going to work with me instead. He was very good for me and we ended up having a great day together. All was not lost for Britton though. Today was VBS Sunday where the kids wear their VBS shirts to church and sing for everyone in a combined service in the sanctuary. So Britton got to get up and sing for everyone, even on the little stage where we have community. And later in the service as we sat in the pews and took communion I realized my little buddy was so very right. Each week when we take a few minutes to remember the broken body and shed blood of Jesus we are part of a special community of God's children. And it makes me smile to think just how right my son was, even though he doesn't even know it.

It's Relaxing, Right?

My very sweet wife gave me a gift certificate for a massage for our anniversary last September. I finally got around to using it tonight. It's not that I've been putting it off or anything, I've just been a little preoccupied for the past 8 months with a little medical set-back. So I left work early today, picked up the kids, went home and cut the grass (well most of it, and some of it way too short, but that's for a different story) then showered and went to my massage. I was so looking forward to this. I was still sore from working out Tuesday and I've been really stressed at work for the past three weeks. This was going to be just what I needed, one hour of relaxation. I went in to get things started with the lady doing the massage. And of coarse the first thing she says to me is, do you have any particular areas that are giving you any trouble or pain, or are there any medical issues that I need to know about? Hmmmm? It seems that there might be something that has been going on with me. What could it be? Wait, it's on the tip of my tongue. Oh, yeah - thyroid cancer. So for the next thirty minutes of my total relaxation I get to answer all kinds of questions about my health, my treatment, my surgery, hear about the lady's friend who has a husband that had a benign tumor in his stomach that was the size of a soccer ball, and about how her mom almost died from getting bit by a tick a few years ago. Finally things got quiet and all I could hear was some strange new-wave mandolin music with waves crashing in the background. That was nice, but then she flipped me over and put this warm bean-bag thingy over my eyes. I guess it was supposed to be soothing during the whole process. But it was really kind of weird. I think it was one of those cherry pit filled bags that you can put in the microwave to get warm, but this thing had this strange aroma of chicken flavored ramen noodles. And then before I knew it my hour was over and it was time to get my things together and head home. Even though things were a little strange, I really felt relaxed and peaceful. I probably could have gone to sleep right there on the table if I would have laid there long enough. When I stood up I was so relaxed that I almost fell over putting my socks and shoes back on. I almost felt drunk or something. So I headed home feeling much, much better than when I left and was really thankful for the gift my wife gave me.

Awkward Silence

Lori and I drove separate cars this morning to church. She was meeting a friend for lunch afterwards so I told her it would be easier on her to drive so she didn't have to deal with the logistics of getting us home and then getting to lunch. So Lori and Britton rode together and Haley rode with me. As we made our way up the interstate we fell into an awkward silence. I usually don't mind riding in silence or just listening to the radio, but I've come to realize that I don't have too many more opportunities to spend time with Haley alone. So I broke the silence with a comment about the construction on 85 and soon we were talking about when it would be done. I told her that I thought it should be done in July but it keeps getting delayed for one reason or another so who knows. I guess talking about July got Haley thinking and she asked me about what was coming up with me and the doctors. She wanted to know what the procedure was that I was having in July and what it meant. So, I told her all about the shots I will have to take and the blood work I'll have done to see if the cancer was actually gone or not. I'm always so careful when I talk to Haley about my cancer stuff. I will always tell her the truth about what's going on, but I try and keep the info as upbeat and positive as possible, just to make sure she doesn't worry too much. We soon arrived at church and met up with Lori and Britton and quickly began our morning of worship. During the service I sat there thinking about our drive and I thought to myself how much I hate talking to Haley about cancer. I hate trying to dance around the subject and I hate her having to even think about it. I got lost in a song we were singing and forgot about my hate. But when I went to pick her up in her class after the service was over, I was met by adults in the hallway that told me that they heard from Haley about the good news and how well I was doing. Not to mention they told me about what a great girl she was. I got Haley and headed downstairs and she began to tell me how she was telling her friends about my whole ordeal that started about eight months ago. I soon began to smile because I knew that my break from the awkward silence this morning gave my little girl an opportunity to share about how God had been with our family through all of this and how her attitude about the whole thing could be a wittiness to those around her about how our family deals with the trials of life.

Glad It's Friday

Boy am I glad this week is almost over. I am mentally drained. Not from any medical crap, just work crap. I'm looking forward to the weekend and getting some rest. But as crazy as things have been at work, I can say that they could have been much worse. I could tell that God was working right along with me helping me though the week. Looking back on it it's kind of cool to stop and reflect. Projects got delayed that bought me more time to work on them and fix things that needed fixin'. Other projects were cancelled all together freeing up time for me to work on more important issues. And people were available in the office that usually weren't to provide me some help and support. It's just another example of how you can look to the Lord for guidance and strength to get you through whatever you may be facing. But there was one thing I did try hard to do this week. Keep fighting. There were times that I felt that what I had in front of me was going to be utterly overwhelming and that there was no way that I could get it done. But I made up my mind that I wasn't going to sit around and worry about it (which is a huge deal for me, by the way) and I wasn't going to try and find an easy way out. No matter what, I was going to lean on God through it all. And because of that God helped me every step of the way. It seemed that the harder I worked the smoother things went. Not because I did anything different or spectacular, just that little things happened that made it all okay. And as I saw those little things happen I became encouraged and wanted to push through to the end. It has made me realize that no matter what we face in life, medical problems, relationship problems, work problems, even money problems, we need to be willing to jump right in the middle of whatever it is and work at it. And I mean really work at it. Even if we're not sure that what we're doing is the best thing for the situation at least be willing to try. Because if we do, God will put in just as much effort as we will. He won't let us down if we look to Him for guidance and strength. It reminds me of the Israelites getting ready to cross the Jordan and take their promised land. They were facing large armies and strong kingdoms, but God told them in Joshua 1:9, "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." I'm pretty sure that can be applied to pretty much everything in our lives today.

Swimming Up Stream

Have you ever tried to swim up stream? I mean really, really tried to swim against a strong current that's trying to push you in the other direction. It's hard. And dangerous. I've never been swept away by a raging rapid by any stretch of the imagination, but there was one time I found myself in a struggle with a large body of water. When I was younger my dad took me to Whitewater for a day of wet, wild fun. I did all of the slides, the lazy river and the like. Where I got into trouble was getting in the big lake, pool, concrete beach thingy that's in the middle of the park. As you can see, it's been a really long time since I've been there, because I can't remember the stupid things name. Anyway, there is a really deep end to the thing where most people get into inner tubes and float around and socialize. Dad wouldn't rent the tube. So, I thought I would just get in and swim. I thought it would be cool to swim from one side to the other, dodging all the inner tubes bobbing in the water. I managed to accomplish this once. Then I had to get back to the other side from where I started. About half way there I hear a horn sound and then all of a sudden the waves started getting bigger and bigger. And for a little kid, they were really big. By the time I finally got to the other side and tried to get to the ladder to get out, I was exhausted. It seemed like I kept swimming and swimming and never could get out. The waves were so big that they kept carrying me up and down so far that I couldn't grab the ladder. It just seemed to drop out of sight. And always just out of my reach. After what seemed like an eternity the waves stopped and I was able to finally get out and catch my breath. Where am I going with all this? An episode like that in your life can make you feel pretty insignificant against the power of God's creation. A person can decide to take a particular path in life and come hell or high water, high water in my case, they are going to get there. And that's okay. But is that path really what God wants for us? Is there a better path, or a different path, or is there a weird nonsensical path that God wants us to meander down? The answer is yes. If you've ever tried struggling against a current or a wave or a hill or a slide, have you ever just let yourself go so that you flow in the natural direction? It's so much easier. But sometimes that's not the direction you intended on going. That's okay. I've begun to realize that if you trust in God and just let go of the things that you are holding onto so tight and let your life flow with the direction He wants to take you, the ride can be quite amazing and fulfilling. No way no how did I ever think I would end up with cancer at the age of 33, but if God hadn't have put that path in my life I would have missed out on some pretty cool things and a boatload of blessings. Don't ever quit swimming, just quit trying to swim up stream.

How to minister to others - Part 3

So Ive been thinking on my mini-series about ministering to others in everyday real terms. This brings me to my third installment. And I think that this one might be the most difficult one yet, but at the same time, one of the simplest. Here goes. If you say it, mean it. And this is a two parter. Part one is this. People get all cleaned up, pile the family in the minivan and head to the ol' meetin' house on Sunday morning. They sit attentively in Sunday School, some-what attentively during the sermon, sing some hymns and most of all socialize with other believers. And during that social time everyone puts on their "Church Face" and seem real loving and concerned about everyone that they meet in the hallway. But ya know, that's usually about as far as it goes. Being a good Christian that loves their neighbor and is willing to give you the shirt of their back is real easy for about three hours a week. It's the other 165 hours that remain that are usually reserved for work, taking the kids to dance recitals, grocery shopping and being generally all around too busy to give a damn. Well I say, if you can say it on Sunday you need to be able to do it on Monday. Or any other day of the week. What a novel idea for you to actually put all the Jesus stuff into practice in your everyday life. And for tips on doing that, please refer to my previous two posts. Now part two. One of the things that absolutely drives me crazy is to hear a press release after a terrible tragedy or an unexpected death of an athlete or public figure and someone says drops the cliche', "Our thoughts and prayers are with the family." Really? Now don't get me wrong, I know that people are concerned and actually do care when disaster strikes a family or community, but are they really stopping and getting on their knees and talking to God? And how many times do you get on the phone with a friend or a co-worker and they tell you about a really difficult time they are going through and you reply, "Well, I'll be praying for you." Or you meet in a small group book club or bible study and everyone takes a few minutes and goes around the room to bring up their prayer requests. And everyone sighs and listens and shakes their heads as people share what's on their hearts and a list is made and that's about the last time anyone ever thinks about it again. Believe me, I'm guilty of all of this. But because of the medical drama that I have been going through this last six month, I have had so many people tell me that they are praying for me. And that has really made this so much easier on me and my family. But then one day I thought, are they really praying? Do I actually really pray for the people I say that to? Do I ever say a prayer for the people that send out email updates on missionaries, or the people that post pleas on Facebook about the loss of a job or a loved one? Do I ever actually mean what I say? So I have tried to make it a point lately to actually stop what I am doing and take a few seconds to actually pray for the people that I come in contact with each and every day. And do you know how much of my daily schedule I have to rearrange to fit in all of this special praying that I am doing? NONE. I just take a few seconds to lift the people up to my God in a quick, simple prayer. And do you know what? I feel great doing it. And I'm pretty sure that the people on the other end do as well. And it allows me to connect with God on a personal level during my crazy and hectic day. So minister to others by simply saying what you mean and meaning what you say.

How to minister to others - Part 2

I had an opportunity today to figure out another way to minister to others. I guess this is the second installment to a several part blog post. I'm not sure how many installments there will be, I guess I'll have to see how my week goes. Anyway, back to Part 2. This one is not as blunt as the first, but it's still pretty direct. Here goes. Shut your pie hole. Again, pretty simple but effective. And what do I mean? I mean just that, shut your pie hole. There are countless opportunities that we run across everyday where the people in your life are struggling with overwhelming problems. But most of the time we use the short lived interactions with those people, be it a relative, a co-worker, or fellow church member, to vomit forth all of the baggage and boredom that consumes our lives onto anyone that will just sit still for more than two minutes. Well I've come to realize that it's not all about me. People are hurting and are desperate to have a shoulder to cry on, or at least have an ear that's willing to listen for a little while. I was having a pretty crappy morning at work and was up to my you-know-what in stuff when I found myself sitting at my co-worker Tim's desk. We were trying to tell each other what we each knew about a particular project when I asked him how his mother was doing. She had suddenly become ill at work one day with some kind of ruptured blood vessel near the spleen about a week and a half ago. The doctors still had no idea what caused the rupture or how to fix it. As Tim began to recount all the details about his mom and her ordeal, I thought to myself, I really don't have time for this. I've got so much work I should be doing now, I really don't have time for this. But as Tim talked about him mother's illness and how lucky she was to be alive, his story slowly shifted from her being sick to her job as a nurse and then on to how she became a nurse. He told me of how his mom was barely 16 when he was born, was kicked out of her house by her dad, how the sperm donor hit the road, and how she had to work three jobs to pay the bills. She busted her tail to get her kids grown and out into the real world and then went back and got her GED. She then went to school to become a dental hygienist. She didn't like that career so she studied to be a nursing assistant. She excelled at that and then took it a step further. She is now a registered nurse and is highly thought of at the hospital she works. I tell all of this for two reasons. First, Tim's story to me went from uncertainty and worry to a real sense of pride and accomplishment. As he talked he began to smile and his countenance brightened. Second, It also let me into a side of his life that I didn't know, which told me a little about why he is the way he is. We all have a story that makes us who we are, and now I know a little more about Tim's. And all of this would have been missed if I hadn't sat down, put aside my busy morning and shut my pie hole. As we go through our busy days with our meetings and projects and play dates and hectic schedules, I think we all need to just shut our pie holes for a few minutes, take the spotlight off of ourselves for a while and listen to the people around us who are desperate for a quiet and attentive friend to lean on and share with.

How to minister to others

I realized at the Publix today after church how everyday normal people can minister to others, even though they have no formal theological training. Brace yourself because this might be a little shocking and way too direct for some readers. Are you ready? Here goes. Don't be an asshole. Plain and simple. Nothing complicated there, just don't be an asshole. And really this has absolutely nothing to do with going to Publix after church today except one thing. I tried really hard to look the girl at the register in the eye and smile and say thank you when she got done ringing me up. How hard was that? I have actually been on a small personal crusade to just be friendly to the people around me. I try and make it a habit to wave to the police officer that directs traffic at our church after the services get out. I try and cut up and be funny with the nurses that have to draw my blood for the tests I get done. I try to give a thank you wave to the car that lets me into the line of traffic. None of that stuff is hard. None of it takes more than a second or two. None of that stuff costs me a single dime. But I try and put myself in the shoes of those people around me. Especially the people that are in a position of service. Think about all of the folks you encounter everyday in the McDonald's drive thru or the dry cleaners or the Starbucks that are so wrapped up in their own world blabbing on their cell phone and treating the people serving them like they are their personal wait staff who are to be wadded up and thrown away like a dirty Kleenex. Imagine if you were that person trying to wait on those jerks. And not only that jerk but about 8 hours of jerks coming and going taking a break from their busy lives. Now imagine meeting someone during your day that took just a second to smile and say hello and asked you how your day was going. What a breath of fresh air that would be. What a reflection of Jesus that would be. And there you'd be, making a conscious effort not to be an asshole and acting more like a minister. And that would make this world a little better place.

Peaks and Valleys

People say that life if full of peaks and valleys. There will always be times where you experience total elation and things can't seem to go any better. But there's an equal likelihood that once that elation subsides you'll be headed for what seems to be darkness and despair. We all hope that our lives are, for the most part, spent hovering somewhere in between those two extremes. But I've come to realize that no matter what point you seem to be in life, there's always beauty and serenity around you if you'll just look. I think about the world that God has created around us. I've had the chance to see the sun rise and set on the Grand Tetons in Wyoming, perfect examples of peaks in life. I think about the Grand Canyon and its majestic beauty formed by the Colorado River that I hope to see one day. Quite a valley indeed. But no matter which extreme you look at, God's hand has been there to make some very breathtaking views. Life is just the same. In the beginning, the thought of facing cancer loomed like the biggest valley I could ever have to face. But once I descended into that valley and began to lean heavily on my God and my Savior for strength and guidance, I began to look around at all the beauty that resided there at the bottom. I've seen my kids faces in a new light. I have a stronger appreciation for my wife and what a special woman she is. I've been blessed with countless hugs, phone calls, gifts and prayers. And by looking around at all of that beauty there on the bottom of the canyon of life, I have been lifted up by it all to where now I feel like I'm getting pretty close to the top of the world.

Is this thing on?

I came to the realization today that I really need to blog more often. The time between posts is getting longer and longer. Why? I love to write and I love to tell stories. Goodness knows that I can bore someone to death with stories from days gone by. But why don't I want to write anymore? I thought about that today and I finally figured it out. Mentally, I feel that I need to be inspired to write so that it's actually something that people will want to read. So with that I churn things over and over in my mind trying to formulate my thoughts. Then I get to thinking that what I want to talk about will take too long, will be too verbose or won't have any impact. So then do you know what I do? Nothing. I just think that I'll get to it later and It'll be really good when I do but it never happens. I need to learn that everything doesn't have to be perfect on the first try and that I need to get in the habit of just trying and see what happens. I'm sure if I do then the inspiration and ideas will work themselves out. So, I'm going to try and put the proverbial pen to paper on a daily basis. Lord knows that I need to empty my brain out more often and shake the cobwebs off of the things rolling in there. And hopefully my followers and blog stalkers will keep me accountable.

Why I believe in God

I was watching TV the other night with Lori and got all wrapped up in the doctor dramas that were assaulting my emotions. Every time I watch one of those I always end up wondering, "Where is God in all of those people's lives?" There's all of this heartache and pain and desperation, and at no point does anyone cry out to God or for God. I know it's network TV and Hollywood is devoid of God or Jesus (goodness knows they need it), but still. So I got to thinking about why I believe in God. What is it that brings me to Him? Is it that I don't want to go to Hell when I die? Yup. But that's not really it. Or at least that's not a very substantial reason. Is it because I get myself in trouble and need a savior to help me out? Well, I do have a Savior in Jesus. That's not it either. Is it that I want to live a good and decent life and have people say that I was a good man while they stare at me in a coffin? Yes again, but that's not deep enough. It dawned on me watching Private Practice last Thursday. I know, that's a strange time to have an epiphany. But it just came to me. I realized that I believe in God because I know that there's something bigger than me. And that thing that's so much bigger than me provides comfort and understanding that I can't explain. It's even hard for me to formulate the thoughts in my head but I know it's there. I was faced with this when I found out I had cancer. Then all the stuff I had been practicing in Sunday School and church and at bible studies in college became very, very real. I was quickly facing the possibility of death at an early age. Did I actually believe all that stuff? Had I done all the things I was supposed to so that I had something to look forward to after I was gone? All of these are extremely valid reasons to believe in a loving and compassionate God and to seek out my Savior, Jesus. But then I was faced with one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. I had to take a crying and upset 9 year old little girl and sit down with her and talk to her about her fears that her daddy might die. How was I going to do this? What could I say? That's when your belief in God comes to the forefront. That's when a very real and loving God comes to you. That's when a faith that has been growing for many years becomes solidified. That's when God sends you the Holy Spirit to empower you and fill you with the wisdom and confidence to do what you do not want to do. And because of that, I was able to keep my composure and calmly face the fears that I had and the fears that my little girl had. I was able to tell her that no matter what happened, God was going to be there through it all. He was going to be with me through my radiation treatments and doctors appointments and follow-ups and most of all He was going to be with her ever step of the way. I could tell her that life is not a guaranteed thing. We have to believe in God and know that He is in control in all facets of our lives. I was facing cancer, but I could just as easily be hit by a bus or have a stroke or have a heart attack. This sickness I was facing was just a part of life that I, excuse me, WE were going to have to face, but it was not going to be alone. God was going to be there holding our hands every step of the way. And I can say without a shadow of a doubt, He has and continues to do so. And that is why I believe in God.

On the edge of irrelevancy

I am eagerly awaiting my appointment with the doctor at Emory that's coming up next Tuesday. I so desperately want to hear directly from the mouth of a guy in a white coat with a nurse-in-training trailing behind that I have come to the relative end of my cancer journey. I am fully aware that this will never be over. I know that I'll have to be watched for the rest of my life and that I'll have to have my blood checked every six months to see if the enzymes become elevated again. I know that there is about a 100% chance that I will need another radiation treatment in my lifetime, I just don't know when. But I still want to hear someone say it. I want it to be written in a chart somewhere. I want to be scheduled for a follow up visit a really long time from now. And with all this I realize that the turmoil in my life, at least this chapter, is coming to a close. So now what? What do I do with what has happened to me? How do I use it to further God's Kingdom? What do I write on this stupid blog? The whole reason I started writing was to give me an outlet to release all the emotions and feelings I had bottled up in my head while the world was rapidly spinning around me. Maybe I'll keep writing just to keep writing. Maybe I'll find some clarity and sanity in my life by putting it down on virtual paper. Will anyone read it? Will anyone care? Hopefully the flame that has drawn the moths is about to be extinguished, but will they find another flame?

Hollywood Sucks

Well, I've determined that Hollywood has completely ruined the real world. Hollywood churns out action movies with super-stud spy heroes, animals with special powers who have the ability to carry on conversations and save the environment, and of coarse, the stupid romantic comedy chick-flick where the goober gets the girl in the end and rides off into the sunset to live happily ever after. We've come to expect that all paths in our life lead to the ticker-tape parade down Main Street and a beautiful sound track in the background. My recent journey has been quite the opposite. I'm not here to say that what's been happening to me hasn't been a gift from God or that He hasn't been there with me every step of the way. Or that it hasn't happened EXACTLY like He has planned. I'm just going to say that it has been really, really weird. Weird because of the way the cancer was found, the million doctors appointments, the prayers and well-wishes and the peace that I have had along the way. But in my mind I just thought that things would end differently. I had in my mind that I would be at the doctor's office one day and he would come in to tell me that he had good news. He would say, "It looks like you're cancer free!" and then birds would sing and confetti would fall from the ceiling. I would hug the doctor and my wife and as I would leave the exam room the nurses would have a big cake with sparklers on it. And I would go home to my kids with open arms to say that Daddy was all better and they would never have to worry about me ever again. That's what Hollywood does to your ideas and dreams and they way your personal movie plays out in your head. Instead, I go from doctor to doctor to have them tell me that everything looks like it is progressing well, but that there is still something weird. Some report just doesn't make sense, or some scan is inconclusive, or some blood work needs to be done before any decisions can be made or I need to send you to another doctor with more expertise or some tumor board needs to review your case or the office needs to do their own set of ultrasounds or we need to do a biopsy of the weird stuff in your neck that has us all worried in the first place. Or better yet, never mind, now that we've shipped you all over creation for you to wait for an incredibly long amount of time for an appointment that you really don't have and tell you that your are having an ultrasound, no wait, a CAT scan, no wait, not a CAT scan an ultrasound again followed by a biopsy, no wait, your pre-biopsy ultrasound doesn't show anything so we're not going to do the biopsy, we're all done, you can go home now. What!? My head is constantly spinning and I've gotten to the point where I'm just not sure if I should be happy or pissed off for being jerked around. So as I sit here typing, I think I have really great news that the cancer did not spread to the lymph nodes at all and that what was showing up on the body scan was just an anomaly and that all I need to do is monitor my blood work for the rest of my life and live it to the fullest. Are you kidding me? Where did that come from? Where is the party, the doctor with the angle wings descending from Heaven with the chart that was all a-glow because it was from God that I was healed? Instead, I have another doctor telling me that everything looks good and that they'll just keep an eye on me, and that's it. No Hollywood ending. I'm really happy, but kind of let down. But with all of this being said, I give all the thanks to God for being so good to me, so loving, so patient and so omnipotent and for being there for me all the way to listen to my prayers, my cries and my frustrations. This thing is still long from being over and I still haven't been told that I am cancer free, but I am one step closer to getting back to a more normal life. And for that I am very grateful.

What have you screwed up lately?

I mentioned a few posts ago that I have a fear of failure. I hate the idea of screwing something up because I wasn't thinking or was unprepared. I guess it's the Tech nerd in me that strives to have everything in a logical, well thought out sequence. I catch myself standing in the middle of my office at work doing this goofy robotic cha-cha going back and forth between my desk and my printer. I'm stuck there because I'm trying make sure that if I get up to get what was printed that I don't need to do anything else while I'm up and that I've printed all of the reports that I need and not just the first one in the sequence. I usually snap out of my trance with the thought, "What the hell is wrong with me?" Who cares if I forgot something, get up, get the stuff and get back to work. In my mind I seem to play a huge chess match with life, always trying to plan what might happen two or three steps down the road, instead of just dealing with what's right in front of my face. I paralyze myself and become motionless just because I'm not sure of something and I don't have a plan. This whole cancer thing has helped me to wake up a little bit and I seem to have more of an attitude of, "How bad can it be?" Not much more, but some. But, it's still there. Like this morning. I decided to go running in the neighborhood instead of on the treadmill so I can get used to hills as I try and prepare for the Peachtree. Of coarse I already had my wife drive me around the neighborhood on a predetermined path so I could see on the odometer exactly how far I was going and what route had what hills and how I could make the most efficient loop and end up back at my house without too much back-tracking. But while running this morning I realized that the route I planned was farther than any distance that I've run to date. So my mind got to thinking. What if I get way down the road and I give out and have to walk back? That will take waaaaay too long for the time I have allotted for exercise this morning and I might be late getting ready, which will throw off my schedule completely. Then what would happen? So, I adjusted the route based on the time I thought I had already been running. I did this by what song I was listening to on my iPod. I always seem to hear the same song in the same place so I was able to gauge my time, make my adjustment and get home on time and all in one piece. And just to make sure that my timing and my distance matched up, I drove the new route I had taken checking the odometer the whole way before I left for work so I would know exactly how far I had actually gone. I'm such a nerd! And the weird thing is, all of this stuff seems very rational at the time. Only upon further review and a quick check in the rear-view mirror of life do I realize that I am nuttier than a rat turd in a cashew factory. So, with all of this being said, where am I going with this? I say all of this to show you that I am going to organize myself into oblivion and I am going to fail to seize the moments that are constantly around me. I am so scared of screwing something up, that a lot of times I end up just doing nothing. And doing nothing, while safe and a sure bet, gets me just that - nothing. I need to learn to screw up more. And no, I don't mean that I am going to charge through life with a false bravado and a kiss-my-ass attitude with no regard for personal responsibly or unintended consequences. It means that I need to take more risks. I need to live life a little more. I need to be more spontaneous and adventuresome. I need to have more failures in my life that I can look back on and say that I learned a great lesson from them. Greatness was never achieved on the first try. Horizons are never different standing in the same place. And looking back on my life, I have been shaped and blessed the most by lessons that I leared from my failures and the failures of those around me. I am writing this blog today because of someones screw up. And I have thanked God for it so many times. But that is a story for another day.......

My Wife, Moses

I'm just not sure what it is. Generally speaking, I'm always in a pretty good mood and pretty easy going. It usually takes a good bit to get me riled up. But over the last several months I've been in a pissy mood. My mood swings have been quite dramatic and the slightest little thing can really piss me off. And I'm just not sure what it is. I don't know if it's anxiety, worry, being tired from getting up early or just the whole not having a thyroid thing. And if it's not having a thyroid that makes me so easily angered, well that just pisses me off too! What that means is that it's somewhat beyond my control and that I'm at the mercy of hormone supplements. What an old person problem to have! And not that I'm knocking old people or anything, it's just that I AM 33 YEARS OLD!!! Not 73! Anyway, that brings me back to my mood swings. It bothers me that I let myself get in such a state and that I snap at the people around me, especially my wife and kids. And really my kids. I find myself getting bent out of shape over the smallest little thing and snapping at them. I think to myself, "why won't they listen," or, "I have told that boy a hundred times." Then I got to thinking about God again. I know that He has made us in His image. And I know that He is a loving and caring God. When I pray, I refer to Him as my Heavenly Father. That makes me wonder, does He feel the same way I do sometimes? Does He look down on me and see me in my sin, again and again and again and say to himself, "I have told that boy a hundred times!" Does He say to Himself, "If he does that one more time I'm gonna reach back and slap that boy right in the mouth." I know I feel that way with my kids. I know it's not right. I know it's not loving or caring. But it's just the way I feel sometimes. I know all I want to do is rant and yell and scream at them and make them do what I want, because I know it's right and because I said so. That's when my wonderful wife steps in. She sees me acting like an ass and tells me all the time, "Be nice to them." Sometimes she says it to me in a very calm and understanding way, like she knows that I'm frustrated or that it's been a long day. Other times she can be down right harsh about it. But, she is always right to do so. And she is always right with the tone she uses. And that brings me to Moses. In the Old Testament, God brought the Israelites out of Egypt because He loved them and cared for them. They were His chosen people and He loved them enough to free them from the oppression of Pharaoh. But just like me, those stiff-necked people whined and bitched and moaned about how God had drug them out into the middle of nowhere to rot and starve to death in the desert. They totally missed the fact that God had miraculously saved them and promised them a land of milk and honey. They couldn't even be good long enough for Moses to go talk to God on Mt. Sinai. They got bored and restless and started worshiping idols while God and Moses weren't looking. What a bunch of spoiled rotten brats. And every time the Israelites would do something stupid, God would get really angry and get so close to striking them down right then and there. But on several occasions in the book of Exodus and the book of Numbers, Moses would fall face down on the ground in front of God and basically say to God, "Be nice to them." Moses knew how much God loved His people. And he also knew that they were immature children in God's eyes and that they needed God to be patient with them so that they could grow and come to know him more. And every time that Moses would speak up for the Israelites, God would listen and His anger would subside and He would calm down just enough to give them a "life lesson" instead. My wife is very much like Moses. She is very passionate about her children, she loves them very much, and she will say the things that need to be said, even though I don't want to hear it sometimes. She understands that the kids are just being kids and that I don't need to deal with them so harshly. I need to be patient and love them, even though I'm in an unbalanced mental state sometimes. I love her for this. And I think God loved Moses for this as well. The ability to stand up for what is good and right, even in the face of someones anger, all to protect the "innocent." I just wonder if my wife ever talks to any of the the plants in our house to get her inspiration? So, I sit and think that things will improve with me over time and that I'll be more patient and understanding. And I'll have a great leader by my side that loves me despite my mood swings and love my children and loves my God with all her heart.

I saw Jesus at a track meet today

Today I went and watched my daughter Haley compete in a track meet at East Coweta High School. All of the elementary schools in our area got to compete at the High School in Track and Field events. Haley ran in the obstacle course, the 50 meter dash and the 400 meter relay. I absolutely loved watching her compete. This was the first time she has ever done anything like this before and I thought she did great. Her group came in second in the obstacle course for her age group. The 50 meter dash didn't go so well for her. She got a little out of sync because of a false start and started off on the wrong foot, literally. She had the wrong foot out front and it made for an awkward start. That slowed her down out the gate and made it too hard to catch up. She was so upset when she was finished and it broke my heart. She did however rebound in the 400 meter relay. She ran the second leg of the race and was able to hold her own. I was really impressed that she actually looks like a runner. She has a very lean frame and runs with long strides. She's not graced with magnificent speed but she did great for being a Bryant. But with all that being said, her accomplishments on the track weren't the best part of her today. As the events were taking place the kids that were waiting to compete sat in the stands in a big group of purple t-shirts cheering and yelling for the other kids on the track and on the field. During the girls 400 meter there were three girls from Haley's school running, each in different heats. The first girl came in second place and the second girl won her heat. The third girl, Delaney, however did not fare so well. She started strong but appeared to either get hurt about half way or got a cramp in her side. All of the other girls in her heat finished several seconds ahead and poor Delaney was almost at a complete stop with 50 meters left. The little girl was so far behind that all the cheering for all the girls had stopped because it looked like everyone was done. But little Delaney was still trying to muster the strength to finish. Then Jesus showed up. Out of the quiet crowd I hear Haley stand up and yell, "Hey everyone, stand up and cheer for Delaney! Get up and cheer for Delaney!" At her prompting the whole crowd of kids from Canongate Elementary got up and yelled for the lone runner on the track. She finished to an uproar despite being dead last and grimacing in pain. I was so proud of my little girl for what she did. I know it wasn't much, but to know that she was pulling for her friend no matter what the outcome made me tear up in the stands. That is what Jesus would have done and what He does in all of our lives. He cheers for us when we are tired, hurting and coming in last place. But there He is, always supporting, always cheering and always loving us no matter what our position in life is. I'm thankful that His spirit lives in my daughter's heart and I'm thankful I have a relationship with Him that lets me see Him on a daily basis, even if it is at a track meet.

Get Up!

I was crazy enough to register to run in the Peachtree this year. Not real sure what I was thinking. I guess I've always wanted to say that I've done it and with the thoughts of my mortality kind of thrust in my face lately, I figured there was no time like the present. It's not that I mind running (or I guess jogging is a better term), it's that I do it from the comfort of my own home on a treadmill, with a built-in fan and ESPN on the TV in front of me. And I usually only trudge along for 2 miles at a time, two or three times a week. But now I have this event looming in the future. 6.2 miles of hot, humid, crowded and hilly terrain. And someone will actually keep up with how long it takes me. And I'm sure people will ask me as well. So with this in mind, I have been preparing myself for a more advanced running workout. I have been trying to increase my distance just to get my stamina up. But an odd thing started happening to me last week. All of my joints started to ache. And I don't mean a little. I mean A LOT. It started with my knees, both of them. Next my hands and fingers got really sore and stiff. They were swollen and I had trouble getting my wedding ring on and off my finger. Then the pain moved to my shoulder sockets and my hips. What the hell was happening to me? I felt as if I had aged thirty years in one week. Then the paranoia set in. Was this a complication from the cancer? Was it really spreading to all of my bones just like they said it could? Was I having a reaction to the thyroid medicine I was taking? Was it the barometric pressure from the oncoming storm moving across the country? I woke up every morning like I had just had my butt whipped and I was so tired. I wasn't resting well because all of my joints were killing me and I tossed and turned all night. The LAST thing I wanted to do in the mornings was get up at 5:00 am and get on that stupid treadmill. Then Friday morning when the alarm had gone off half a dozen times I finally told myself, "GET UP!!!" And I did. And I managed to get 2 miles in on the treadmill before I had to get ready for work. And It hurt. But I realized that if I continue to talk myself out of running and I keep making excuses to not get up, that I'll just make it a habit of not getting up and pretty soon I would just give up. And then the Peachtree would be upon me and I would not have trained and I would probably just not go and waste a perfectly good opportunity to accomplish a goal of mine that I've had for a long time. And what a flippin' waste that would be. So as I drove to work later that day with my knees and hips and shoulders and fingers aching like I was a hundred years old, I got to thinking about God again. Which is something I've been doing a lot more lately. My relationship with God is so very much like what I have been going through lately. We all have this date with destiny where we go and meet our maker and we stand before Him. And along the way God begs us to talk to Him, to know Him, to walk with Him, to pray to Him, and to be in a relationship with Him. And throughout my life, it has seemed that every time I sign up to get ready to get close to Him, something gets in the way. The aches and pains of life get in the way and make me tired and sore and lazy. I get frustrated with missed opportunities, mad about things that didn't go my way and scared about sicknesses that come out of nowhere. And all of these things are tools of the devil that he uses to keep us from that sweet, sweet relationship that we strive to have with God and His son Jesus. And I realized that instead of yelling at myself to "GET UP!" that I actually have to tell my self to "GET DOWN!" Get down on my knees and lay all my worries, fears, and failures at the feet of my God. Tell God what He already knows about me but what He so desperately wants to hear from me personally. It's kind of like what my kids eat at school for lunch each day. I ask them everyday what they had for lunch. Why? I don't care at all what they ate. And for that matter, I could just as easily look on the monthly school lunch calendar that is posted in our kitchen and see what they ate that day. But there is something so sweet to hear that my little boy chose to eat Rib-a-que, as he calls it, and to laugh with him and hear Haley say how gross it is. And I tell Britton that I love it too, and that I would have picked Rib-a-que to eat if I were there. And we talk and share a moment about absolutely nothing important in life. And I love it. God is the same way. He wants me to get down on my knees and tell him about the most mundane aspects of my life. But He also wants to hear the things that are really on my mind and are bothering me. I need to tell Him that I'm worried that the cancer has spread all over my body, even though I know it's not true. I need to tell him that I need His gift of wisdom at work and that I'm afraid of failing the people that depend on me. I need to tell Him I am thankful for all of the wonderful people in my life that are praying for me and my family and that their encouragement has meant so much to me. I need to tell Him that I simply need Him. So, as the Peachtree quickly approaches I keep running. And I keep telling myself to "Get up." And as life continues to come at me with all its surprises, I keep praying. And I keep telling myself when things are scary, or strange or even good, to "Get down" and talk to God.

Waiting To Be A Hero

If you didn't know, I am the coach of Charlie Brown's baseball team. Some of you will understand that and some won't. Because of a lack of time and energy, I won't begin ranting about the trials and tribulations of coaching my son's T Ball team. However, last Monday night it did give me an opportunity to get in touch with God on a different level. My son Britton is playing on a 5 and 6 year old T Ball team as a 4 year old. Not because I thought he was that good or anything, it's because I wanted him to play on a team where there were winners and more importantly, losers. His age group is set up where everyone bats every inning, they only play 2 innings and they don't keep score. I thought Britton needed a little dose of reality. It looks like I'm the one that has reality beat up side my head twice a week as I watch Charlie Brown take the mound and Linus run out to the field with his blanket. Anyway, as coach I have the opportunity to put the kids in different positions on the field. Sometimes according to their skill level, sometimes not. The other night I put Britton at second base. His skill level and attention span is more suited for deep left field but he was at second base non the less. I realized that I wanted my son to have a chance to fail. I wanted Britton to be given a chance to play in a glamour position. I had the power to put him where ever I wanted. I could have put him in deep left where he would be safe but then I realized that I wanted Britton to be a hero. I wanted to give him a task that was much bigger than he was so that he could be in a position to be a hero. I knew that he probably wouldn't be able to stop anything hit to him. And if he did he probably wouldn't be too accurate with a throw to first base. But what if he did? How awesome would that have been? Not only for him and his self-confidence, but also for me as his dad. That's when God whispered again. I had the realization that maybe God has put me in a position that is much bigger than I am. He has given me something that I can't fix on my own. He has put me in a position in life where I am relying on Him for strength and guidance and hope. God has put me at second base to see if I can field what comes my way. And He is right there by my side pulling for me every second to make the play and be the hero.

Fighting False Hope

So I get this weird call from the oncologist at Emory on Friday morning. He calls to see if I had heard from anybody else at Emory and to tell me that the tumor board met that morning to discuss my case. He said that everyone still feels that surgery to remove the lymph nodes is the proper course of action and that I should be hearing from the surgeon at Emory soon. He also says that I will have to have some more tests done in the way of an MRI or a CAT scan on my lymph nodes since it appears that the ultrasound was not very conclusive. They want to make sure that there is in fact cancer cells that have spread to the lymph nodes. I thought that was strange so I asked him if the cancer wasn't found in the lymph nodes, then what could be showing up on the body scans. He told me that sometimes that parathyroids take up the radioactive iodine even though there are no cancer cells present. This would give a reading of something there that really wasn't. After hearing that he began to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. I conveniently forgot that the blood work still showed that there are still active cancer cells in my body and that there is still a very real chance and a high probability that I will have surgery again soon. But for just a few moments I had hope. The first thing I wanted to do was call Lori and tell her what he said. I had to preface the conversation with things like, "There is a slight possibility," and "He didn't actually say this, but...." And then my own self doubt began to set in. Surely there was no way that the cancer hadn't actually spread, that would be way too easy and way too amazing and way too awesome. So I kind of pushed all that to the back of my mind and tried to forget I had heard anything at all. I really didn't want to set myself up for disappointment or a let down. I had to remain logical about this whole thing and stay grounded. That's been the story of my life. Logical and grounded. Don't take risks. Never give anybody a reason to ever say, " I told you so." But this notion of being safe has been gnawing at me for a while now. It started earlier last week when I had a bid that I had to turn in on Tuesday to Fayette County for an intersection improvement near where Lori grew up. I was pretty aggressive on the bid and was cutting money out left and right before I had to turn the thing in. That is so not like me. I usually scare myself to death thinking I am going to screw the thing up and leave way too much money on the table and make myself look like a fool in front of the other bidders. I usually end up adding money at the last minute to cover myself just in case. You know, don't give someone a reason to say, "I told you so." But this time it was different. I had a different mind set. Every since this whole cancer thing my attitude has been more of, "How bad can it be? At least if I get a job for next to nothing, we will actually have a job to work on instead of wondering what could have been." And then there was the ride on the way to turn in the bid. I remember hearing something on the radio about taking great risks in life lead to great failures but also great rewards. I remember thinking to myself, "Not me, if I stay right in the middle, I'll have no great failures." And then the epiphany. I'll never have any great rewards. I have a deep down, all encompassing, fear of failure. Screw the huge payoffs as long as I don't actually fail. So this trip to Fayetteville to turn in a bid started a lot of internal debate and self-reflection. So I go to the bid opening and there are only three companies there. And of coarse I get the job and I have left a ton of money on the table. And I want to throw up in my mouth and tell the people there that I was just kidding and can I please have my stuff back now I really didn't mean it. But then I got to thinking. Hey you know what? I just got us some work that we really needed. I am pretty sure that I did my best and really, how bad can it be? Where in the world am I going with all of this? I realized that the best lessons in life for me have come when something usually went really wrong. I think back to all of my favorite stories that me and my football buddies like to tell. They don't come from days when things were easy and boring and nothing happened. They came from when times were tough and hard and not fun and now we look back and laugh and embellish and love every minute of it. Well now that can happen in my everyday life. I need to fail. I need to fail and learn from it. I need to fail and learn from it and tell stories to my friends about my failure. I need to fail and learn from it and tell stories to my friends about my failure and most of all laugh about it. So that brings me back to my present situation. I have decided to hope against all hope. I have decided to put aside the notion of false hope and just have hope. I have decided to pray that the whole thing has been a mistake and that there is no cancer in my lymph nodes. I have decided to hold on to the the possibility that there could be no reason for another surgery and that I can have my name taken off the church bulletin and the place mat on Wednesday nights. So I tell people that there might not be anything there and I risk the possibility that I'll be wrong. And people might say, "poor guy, he had such hope." Well, I have decided, it is time to see if I am going to fail at this. Because either I fail and learn something and grow in my faith, or I am right and the stupid thing could be gone and I'll be telling everyone how awesome life is. I mean really, how bad can it by?

At the car wash

So I went to the doctor AGAIN this past week. This time I saw a doctor at Emory that specializes in thyroid cancer. I'll keep it short and simple, he said that everything will be fine, that what I have can be treated, that some of the the things that have been done to me so far may not have been done the best way, and that I will probably have to have surgery again to remove the lymph nodes in my neck. So, with all that being said, I've been in kind of a crappy mood this week. Not that anything has changed or is going wrong, I've just been in a funk. Maybe because work has been busy, maybe because I've been tired and maybe just because. But then along came Sunday. I've really become a fan of Sundays. It's a chance for me to go to church and feel the warmth of God's love and the community of believers that wrap their arms around me to comfort me. I realized today that on the way home that church has become something like a car was to me. Ever since all this stuff, I find myself getting very emotional during worship time and the music in our contemporary service seems to really get to me. But the worst is communion. Each week I find myself praying to God and wiping away tears as the emotion pours out of my soul. And those tears are what washes away all the gunk and grime on my spiritual car. We are like cars. We all need fuel to run each day. We all need a tune up every once in a while. And we all get covered by dirt, dust and pollen. But just because our car is dirty, it still runs pretty much the same. But there's just something about getting your car washed that feels good. Everyone knows that getting it washed does nothing to make the engine run any better. Getting it washed doesn't make the alignment any straighter. Getting it washed doesn't fix that little chip in the windshield from the rock that hit it on the interstate last month. But there is just something about a clean car that seems to just feel good. It makes you happy and at peace with your car. You want to roll the windows down and just cruise around the neighborhood. Church does that for my soul. Church does not perform surgery. Church does not administer radiation treatments. Church does not do ultrasounds or CAT scans. But going to church and letting the tears fall to the floor in front of me while the communion trays are being passed around the pews, washes away the craps that builds up on my spiritual car. And I think we all need a good car wash every once in a while.

I Love It When God Whispers

Okay, so on Friday I got to leave work early for Good Friday and the start of Spring Break. I was on my way home when my cell phone rings and it's someone calling about work stuff. And naturally the conversation turned to, "Well, how are you doing? Are you feeling okay?" and the ususal stuff that people ask to check up on me. And as you remember from an earlier post I gave my standard answer, which by the way is still true, of "I'm doing fine." At this point I try and catch the person up on all the different doctor appointments and blood tests and ultrasounds and more blood tests and going to see a new oncologist and when I'll know something and all that stuff. I finally get off the phone and realize, "Damn, I'm tired of talking about all this crap!" I'm starting to forget who I've talked to, who I've updated, who I've told what. And since my wife can tell you that I can be a little verbose at times, I'm starting to think I'm just repeating myself to everyone and simply talking in circles. Pretty soon all of my stories are going to change from, "When I used to work at the movie theater......" to, "Well my next oncology/endocrinology appointment will be....." Anyway, to get to my point, I just got tired of talking about it all and started to get frustrated a little. And I guess it all comes back to the fact that I actually forget that I am "sick"and I go on like nothing ever happpened until I get one of those calls that brings reality crashing back to my little world. But, I soon forgot again as the family and I packed up and headed for a weekend at Callaway Gardens. We stayed down there Friday night and then got up and spent pretty much all day Saturday in the Gardens seeing everything we could and enjoying the beautiful weather and time all to ourselves. Late Saturday afternoon we headed home and had pretty much determined that we were not going to church Sunday because we had lunch early with my family and dinner that afternoon with Lori's family. But, on the way home God whispered. I got to thinking that it would be cool to go and visit with Lori's brother at his church on Sunday morning. I knew that they would have an early service and would be done by 10:30, which would put us very close to where we were meeting my parents for lunch at 11:00. Sounded like the perfect plan. So, we got up Sunday morning and headed to church. Britton was excited to meet new friends and we were excited to share the day and the message with Lori's brother. As the service got going the music was great, the place was packed and then it was announced that there were going to be two baptisms that day. How cool was that? And then God did more than whisper to me. He pretty much got down and put is arm around me and gave me a hug. Before the first baptism the church showed a taped testimony of the guy getting baptised. In it he told a story of his life and how he had prospered and then been broken. And after being broken he came to have a very real relationship with Christ. He also told of how he had gone on a mission trip to Africa with his family and how their job was to act out and tell the African children in the village about a parable where someone propered, was broken and then was reconciled. The guy on the video said it really hit him hard having to basically tell his story over and over again to these kids. Then he said what God wanted me to hear. He said that one of the missionaries in the village told him to keep telling his story over and over again, because each time he told it he was mocking the Devil. Hearing that I was overcome with emotion and almost began to weep. It had hit me too. Everytime I tell people the amazing story of how I found out I had cancer and how things were jumbled up in the diagnosis and how my surgery and treatment went so well and how people have been praying for me and asking about me, I am slapping the Devil right in the mouth and telling him that he has no place in my heart and that he has no victory over me. He can't fill me with fear and dread and worry because I have the victory through Jesus. And with all of the awesome victories, I get to look back on all that has happened and see how God has and continues to whisper in my ear.