3 years ago today, August 20th, the “bad moon” began to rise. This expression is how I have often internally thought about the chaos of the first 15 days after discovering I was terribly sick (and yet ruggedly handsome.) It seems odd to be at a hinge point of awaiting another 3 years post-treatment to get the all-clear and yet looking backward at the last 3 years.

(I am doing well, getting stronger, and managing most things quite normally. This post is simply a nod to the journey you have made with our family).

By the Numbers

3 years

156 weeks and 4 days

36 months

1096 days

26,304 hours

94,694,400 seconds

1,578,240 minutes since a kind but determined PA broke the news to my stunned ears and insisted I get immediately tested.

1 month – How long I had large field radiation on my chest.

22 – The number of CT scans

4 – The number of PET scans

3 – ED visits including 8 days in the hospital

15 – The number of days from initial suspicion until my first round of 4 chemotherapy treatments.

1 – The number of pies brought to our home while we were in church by strangers (to us). It turned out to be a very thoughtful local church.

0 – The number of extra days I have ever waited for the results of a scan. Always have the information the same day.

4 – The number of times I sat down unexpectedly (fell).

90 – The magic number of how long between scans and panels currently. Every 90 days I face my mortality. I am learning to live in between the scans.

5 Months – It was August of 2022 before I could put my socks on by myself.

14 Months – How long before I could button my shirt or pants after chemotherapy.

43 – Sessions of Physical and Occupational Therapy

3 Years later and we remain thankful and committed to Love Jesus, Trust Jesus, and Live for Jesus.

Too Many

People who have passed and lost their fight with cancer in the last 3 years. Too many.

Too many … Blessings to enumerate.

So Many

People who called, gave, encouraged, texted and prayed. I will never get over the outpouring of love toward my family and me. I have every note, card, and letter by my bedside.

People I feel honored to partner with in their cancer journey. We will do this together.

Tremendous acts of kindness from our church family.

Amazing health care professionals including Drs. Crouch, Pharaoh, Ibach, and Meyer, their superlative teams, and the gang who kept me alive in the hospital.

How Many

Ways to thank the Lord for this opportunity to declare His goodness.

People I have had the privilege to speak with because I have had cancer and share with them about Jesus.

Days I prayed for luscious eyebrows and eyelashes so I would stop scaring children. (I should have prayed for all of my hair to return instead).

By the Book

God’s Word implores us via the Psalmist to “…teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” Psalm 90:12

We choose to acknowledge that every day is a good day. Every day is a day to serve and worship our Creator God who is always eternally good.

May we ever be mindful of this truth as Watts, the ever-helpful hymnist, speaks to this human condition of our lives with the following beautiful words:

   “Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

    Bears all its sons away;

   They fly, forgotten, as a dream

    Dies at the opening day.”

We are slaves to time; we find our immortality in God and nowhere else. “Our hope for years to come”—and your hope and my hope for years to come. And may this God “be Thou our guide while life shall last and our eternal home.”

(Isaac Watts, “O God, Our Help in Ages Past” (stanza 4), Church Service Hymns, comp. H. Rodeneaver and G.W. Sanville (Winona Lake, IN: Rodeheaver Hall-Mack, 1948), #97.)