“We know that for
those who love God all things work together for good.” Romans 8:28
I realize that I have already referenced the above Bible
verse, but there is just nothing better that comes to mind after my trial
today. As a bit of background, about a year and a half ago, when I was about to
undergo an allogeneic (donor) stem cell transplant, my husband and I decided to
send our two youngest children to school for the first time. We had always
homeschooled, as that fit our schedule (lots of travel, especially overseas
mission work) and our educational philosophy (classical education, which is not
easily available in our rural area), and our lifestyle (my husband used to work
evenings when the kids were little, leaving him little quality time with them
unless they were at home during the day). What we began with great trepidation
and insecurity, even though I had a major in Education and had worked for
several years as an Editor in educational publishing, soon became an enormous
blessing and, quite honestly, a lifestyle that we easily became hooked on. It
was almost traumatic for us to send our two youngest children to school. Our
oldest two were at that time in college, one at Wheaton College and the other
at the University of Pennsylvania, and they were also dismayed and a bit
saddened at our change of lifestyle. It signified a real shift in our family, a
true crisis.
Before we could cross over completely and surrender
ourselves to a system that we had ignored for so long, we asked friends to come
over and pray with us. One couple, who had become strong mentors to our family,
gave us the most surprising advice. Most homeschooling parents seemed to believe that
homeschooling was a permanent calling from God, and that we should continue to
home school no matter what. But we had never seen it that way. We always went
year to year, seeking God’s will for our family and never presuming that it
would remain the same. Without telling us what to do, this mentor couple said
the words, “God is sovereign over your children.” They didn’t need to say more,
as we realized the impact of the words. His plan for them is not always the
same as ours. He may include pain in their lives as an important way to
strengthen their faith. As parents, we always try to spare them from pain, but
is that always best?
As it turned out, that year was full of lessons for them. We
ended up sending them to a private classical school (and only because our
public school system wasn’t willing to count SAT Subject Tests and the like for
credit). Academically, it was everything we had hoped for, and everything I
couldn’t provide at the time. I needed the year to recover, to focus on
healing. But this rigorous classical school didn’t have a lot to offer in the
way of social activities, and so while their education was top-notch, they were
greatly missing their friends. It was ironic; the “homeschoolers” who were
supposed to be socially deprived, were feeling very socially deprived in
private school. But our kids have always had friends in all arenas, and the
students at their school were so geographically distributed as to make it
unfeasible to get together outside of school hours. It was not only a year of
growth, but also a year of waiting for them. Quite simply, they could not WAIT to
get back to their former life and their former classes!
This past year, we’ve enjoyed months of homeschooling again
(homeschooling in our family means classes in a variety of venues; there is
very little that I teach directly at the high school level; rather, I am the
facilitator who pulls it all together). My bone marrow transplant was a
success, and I have had very few issues since. In fact, I’ve enjoyed a greater
quality of life than I have had for several years. Our junior in high school
enrolled in many local college classes and excelled; our freshman was thrilled
to finally be among her friends and in all the dance classes she had had to give
up, and we all loved being home together on the “off” days. Then came the news
from my doctor this winter…she’d like me to consider a second bone marrow
transplant. I was aghast, as she had told me that I could only have one! How
could I possibly have two? “Well, yes,” she said, “You will be the first
patient at our hospital with multiple myeloma ever to undergo this protocol.”
But I knew she wouldn’t offer it if she didn’t see the need. I have had a rogue
protein band for a few months that she has worried about. She wants to be
proactive. She thinks I have a 20% chance of defeating my cancer forever if I
do this. I sailed through the last transplant. She knows I hate being on drugs.
I am young. I have begged her to be aggressive. I have prayed for her to “think
outside of the box”. Of course I am going to elect to do this.
But my donors? Last time, it was
my oldest brother. I still have a younger brother who is eligible. But so are
my three oldest children. I immediately wanted to spare them. What mother ever
wants to see her children suffer through something on her behalf? I couldn’t
even talk about it with my husband or closest friends without crying. I asked
my doctor to just use my brother. She agreed to mark him down as our “first
choice” but she said it would be foolish not to test the kids….After all, one
of them might have a “marker” that would make the entire procedure so much more
successful.
I apologize that this post is so
long, but , well, today I took my 16 year old and 19 year old (home for Spring
Break) in to have their blood typed. (Our 22 year old had himself tested near
Chicago at the same time. Even that simple act, rushing to have it done on the
same day, finding his own lab, sending it in, taking full responsibility,
brings tears to my eyes…) I knew it would test my love as a mother…. My 16 year
old son is so sensitive. I used to call him “Edward the Confessor” (his name is
NOT Edward, but this nickname is after King Edward of England) for how he loved
to sneak into my bedroom at night to confess everything that was on his heart.
He always wanted to sleep with a clean conscience, and somehow confessing to me
did that for him. When I was first diagnosed over three years ago and really
sick, lying in a hospital bed in our bedroom, he would confess with even more
urgency than usual. It both broke and melted my heart, and I thanked God every
night that I was still there for him. Well, when he gave blood today—three vials,
to be exact—to be typed as a donor for me, he began to feel dizzy. The wonderful
phlebotomist knew just what to do; she asked him to lean back, and within
seconds of his passing out (!), she revived him with some ammonia-smelling
tablets that were taped on the wall just above his head. I was almost
traumatized! I mean, he actually passed out!! I thought he was having a seizure
or something! She said it happens all the time, and that not nearly enough
blood was taken for him to actually pass out from loss of blood… But as a
mother, it was tough. After all, here was my baby, doing this to save MY life!
I raged with conflicting emotions….
And a part of me, not the “mother” part, wanted him to move through this. All
day long, I kept talking to him about the amazing gift of blood for cancer
patients. I told him how many times I had been helped by receiving platelets or
reds from donors, and how he ought to think about donating blood to the Red
Cross. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I wanted to plant the seed. I know
that he will do it for me, even though his first words when he was revived
were, “I might not be the best donor!” Even if he passes out or is in pain, I
want him to think beyond his love for me. I want him to think about the
stranger that he will never meet. It is an amazing thing to save a life (I will
personally never know, but my older brother, who was my first donor, signed up
for the International Registry after he saved my life, saying that it was one
of the single most important things he
has ever done). I want my kids to love the way Jesus loves, and to sacrifice
for strangers. I know it is a lot to ask, especially from a mother who has only
received and not given. But my God is a God of miracles, and I know that He can
do this! And I know that whatever He has planned for my disease is for the “good
of those who love Him.” And my children love Him so much! And my friend’s words
keep ringing in my ears: “God is sovereign over your children.” I know that His
plans for them have much more far-reaching impact than mine could ever have.
Whatever His plans are, I know that they are right, they are perfect, and they
are for their good.
Dear God, I trust You with all of this. I know that You have used my
disease to impact so many friends and family. I know that You will use it for
good. For good and for Your glory. I pray that You will use this trial to
strengthen the faith of my children. Please use this disease as You will.
Please heal me, and all those who suffer from cancer, and use us to spread Your
glory. Amen.
