It's not the end

Many, many people encouraged me to throw a party at the end of chemo. That was a good idea I really clung to at the beginning.

But as I came to realize this week, the end of chemo does not mean the end of cancer. We've got 4 weeks to go before we will know the outcome of her completed treatment. Blood counts for the next 2 weeks, in case she needs a transfusion. Then MRI of skull and orbits, bone scan and head/chest CT in 3 weeks. Then, on August 23rd, a day after she starts kindergarten, we will meet with her oncologist for the results.

(We could get the results sooner, but based on what a good friend experienced at the hand of a resident, we would rather wait and get results from our doctor to ensure nothing incorrect is said/reported to us.)

But after that, she will have scans every 3/6/9/12 months for years. That is something else we find out for sure on the 23rd, her pattern of scans. There is a good chance there will be "something" that shows up on the MRI - possibly forever. Doesn't mean there is any cancer left, but her protocol has an asterisk on it that states there could be something that shows up.

Of course, that is not what I am praying for. And in my heart I believe we are done.

There I said it.

I have surrendered the outcome to The Lord, but I feel like we are done - in my mind, body and spirit. If it doesn't change size or show up anywhere else, we are done. And we will go on about our lives.

But that's not the end. We will still have to deal with all the emotions about everything that has happened. Sophia and I in particular are the most effected, outwardly. This after-treatment season will, I hope, be a time of healing a lot of emotional and spiritual wounds.

And part of that is ministry to others.

Several weeks ago, The Lord laid on my heart that I should continue to be a part of the lives of people who have cancer. Whether that is through hospital visits, comfort kits, teddy bear delivery (more to come on that), TPT4KC, or another avenue The Lord chooses to open up.

What started out as my Nineveh has now become my mission field.

We've already begun the work of Team Sophia and I want to keep it going. I don't need to look very far to reach out to those who need comfort. I've seen suffering, I've looked it in the face, as recently as this week.

Now, by God's Grace, Mercy and Strength - I will keep reaching out to those children, adults and caregivers to let them know they are not alone. This situation they are in is a chance to become more sensitive to God, to become closer as a family. In the midst of this illness is a chance to find purpose, meaning and love.

It all sounds so backwards. I have no doubt my heart will break many times over. I don't know exactly what to do, how to start or where to go - but I know The Lord will bring those He wants me to minister to. He has already!

Healing will rise like the dawn, with righteousness before us and the glory of The Lord behind.

For Sophia and her cancer.

For Me, Dave and Natalie and our emotional wounds.

For Others who need to know God loves them.

Amen and Amen.