Fighting the Good Fight & What Really Matters

Before I was married, I got the privilege to live in Joplin, Mo and it was one of the most enjoyable periods of my life.  While there, I attended a church called Christ Church of Oronogo and met an incredible man named Mark Christian.  He is a remarkable speaker, and brings truth and love to the pulpit straight from the scripture.  It's not watered down, or stories shared solely of him and his life experiences.  It's just simple, straight up scripture and truth. Over the years, the words the Spirit has filled him with have helped me in more ways than he’ll ever know.  

On Monday, July 16, I walked back into the chemo ward at the Mills Breast Cancer Center in Champaign, IL.  A place I have been trying to avoid since I walked out in 2014.  When I rang that bell upon completion of my first round of chemo, I fully intended to never return.  I don’t like it there for a number of reasons.  Some are a bit more obvious, while others are hidden and unknown only to those who have walked through those halls.  I don't like it there mostly because I don’t feel like I belong.  The majority of the people are older, frail, and sickly.  That’s not me.  I'm quirky and energetic still.  I don’t like it because it makes you sick.  The drugs they give you make you feel weird, like you’re not yourself.  I don’t like it because there is no end this time, no goal to work towards, so I feel lost.   That’s not the case this round.  I don’t like it because in a way it takes away my freedom.  I am bound to the chemo chair every Monday, until further notice.  Every part of my body wants to avoid this place, and yet, I feel like this is exactly where God had called me to be.

Three years ago, while I was in chemo the first time, the chemo ward wasn’t nice.  Still though, I made some amazing friends while I was there, and I got to spend quality time with people I love.  This time, before I entered back into the chemo ward, I spent a week at a Christ In Youth conference with a few students I have been working with for the last two years.  During this week, I, along with several others, challenged my students to grow in their faith, and share the gospel with others.  Some of us made promises, confessed our fears and sins, and made plans to walk out of the darkness of our lives and into the light.  

During this week, as I'm asking my students to grow and spread the love of God, it dawned on me my hypocrisy as I had not been doing as well as I can during this time.  So I made a promise to them, and I'm making a promise to you.  I'm not saying this to boast or to brag, but rather to help keep myself accountable and to help me follow-through.  As the chemo ward is not the happiest place on this earth, it still can be a place of joy and hope.  So I ordered encouragement cards, beautifully designed, and with verses of hope written on them.  I am going to make it my mission to encourage as many people in that dreadful place as possible.  I'm going to share the love of Christ as best as possible, and hopefully make the chemo ward less dreary.  I have no idea if this is going to help, or work, nor am I sure if anyone has ever done anything like this before.  I've never seen it, but I'm sure I'm not the first.  But, I promised my students that I was going to use this as my new mission field, and I fully intend to do that.  Bring it on Satan.  

When I made the decision to enter back into the chemo ward, I was crushed.  I was broken.  We have been trying to gain access to a variety of clinical trails, anything but traditional chemo, with no luck.  I have been denied for various reasons, I'm "too healthy", I don't have the right immune system, I don't have any genetic disorders.  I've had a couple of oncologists tell me I'm unfortunately just not a very drug-able patient.  My chances of having cancer are .1%.  POINT ONE PERCENT.  Not even a full percentage, and yet, here I am dying from this terrible disease with limited treatment options.  I remember saying to Charlie that I didn’t understand anything anymore and that I felt guilty for asking people to pray for me.  Simply because nothing was working, our prayers weren’t being answered in the manner we had been seeking.  It seemed as if everything we had been praying for, the exact opposite kept happening.  And yet, still, I can't walk away. 

This world is ugly, brutal, not what God intended, and yet, there is still so much beauty and joy amongst all of the pain and sorrow.  It all depends on how you look at it. During the decision process to enter back into the chemo ward, people would ask me how I was doing, and all I could do was cry.  Words could not express how I felt, until Mark Christian.

My husband and I still listen to Mark and CCO's podcasts online when we can, and they're always such a gut check.  They're the types of sermons you listen to and walk away knowing you need to be doing more with your life.  Compelling, and gut checking words hit you almost every time.  (You can check it them out here if you want: https://cco.church/podcasts) One night, on my way from Sullivan to Monticello, I was alone in my car, crying, I decided to listen to one of these podcasts.  And as always, the perfect words came through my car speakers.  

The podcast was called, The Gospel: When It Doesn't Fix It.  Focusing on Mark 9, the question is posed,  "Is your faith in Jesus because He did something you wanted Him to do, and proved Himself, or because He's good even when He leaves you in the condition you wish you weren't in?"  Honestly, I can answer that I believe in Him, even if He doesn't answer, but boy, would it make it a whole lot easier if He did answer our prayers and provide a miracle.  

Mark continues, and in the podcast you begin to hear a story about a father who brings his son to Jesus to ask for healing.  His son is possesed by a Spirit, and the disciples cannot cast out this demon.  The religious leaders argue with Jesus and say that He can't heal this boy, they mock Jesus and His disciples.  Both parties are in a back-and-forth debate as to who is right, and who is wrong theologically.  During this time, the father desperately waits for help.  He doesn't care about who is right, and who is wrong.  HE JUST WANTS HIS SON TO BE HEALED.  HE JUST WANTS TO KNOW THAT JESUS IS WHO HE SAYS HE IS.  That father, and I, we both just want Jesus to fix what is broken.

Jesus though, just doesn't alway fix our physical problems.  He builds our faith, and He cares more about our issues than we do.  He can do anything if we allow our faith to believe that He can do what He says He can do.  It's not about how much we trust Him, but what we put our trust in.  If we believe in Him, we would be amazed at what He can do.  So here is my prayer.  Father, I do believe.  Help me overcome my belief.  Do it your way, not my way.  

Church.  Listen.  At this point in my life, I don’t care about the little things.  Those who are desperate don't care who's right.  We don’t care about how much money we have, We don’t care if you’re rich/poor, cool/uncool, old or young.  We don't care if you worship in a cool church building, or if the church has the coolest band in the land.  We don't care if you drive a fancier car, or about what’s happening tomorrow, or what we're doing that day.  We don’t care about what’s happening in the world or news stories.  We only care about Jesus.  I (we) need to know he’s real.  I need to know His love.  I need to know He cares.  I have an unqunechable thirst for a hug from Him, and these simple words, “It will be okay.  I got this.”  That’s all I need.  That's all I really want.  Things on this earth temporarily distract me, but at the end of the day, when I’m lying in bed awake at night, all I truly need is Jesus and the reassurance of His love.  I need to know at the end of this battle, He is there waiting for me.   That's it's not just a made up story.  He is real.  That's all.  

At the end of the podcast Jesus explains to His disciples why they couldn't cast out the demon in the little boy.  He tells them how little their faith is, and that this demon could only be cast out by prayer.  If you have faith in the source of your power, not yourself, God will get you in on things you cannot do yourself.  And how does that power arrive?  Through prayer.  Humble helplessness is the first step.  Admitting that I cannot do anything outside of God.  Without you God, nothing I do matters.  I don't know what to do next, I don't know how to trust well.  I'm scared.  Fear overwhelms me, or doubt creeps in saying that I'm not good enough or worthy enough of His love and power.  

So, I need help.  We all need help.  We need to fully trust.  To know God.  We need prayer to overcome our disbelief.  Even when He doesn't do what we ask Him to.  There is nothing I can control about this situation.  And I need to give it ALL to God.  I'm not sure what that looks like, but I'm going to work towards that goal.  

During these next few months, I'm not sure what's going to happen.  IV chemo has begun, and it's going to wreck my body in a way I'm not excited about.  After one round, I already feel weaker, tired, sick, and worn out.  But I do know I'm not going to give up.  No.  I'm going to ask to all of you to prayerfully remember us and ask for us to overcome our belief.  Pray for continued growth in my faith and for a miracle.

We will also need help with chemo treatments and visits if you so desire.  I've listed a schedule below, and while I have a massive family willing to help, my chemo schedule can be daunting at times, and somewhat of a burden to only my family.  So if you want to come hang out with me in the chemo ward, I WOULD LOVE to spend some time with you.  

I am on a three-week chemo cycle.  Two weeks on chemo (every Monday), and one week off.  The week off allows my body to hopefully recover from the various side effects the drugs will bring along with hopefully (Lord willing) the destruction of my cancer.  My current chemo schedule is listed below: 

• Monday, August 6th
• Monday, August 13th
• Monday, August 20 - OFF Week
• Monday, August 27th 
• Monday, September 3rd
• Monday, September 10th - OFF Week
• Monday, September 17th
• Monday, September 24th
• Monday, October 1 - OFF Week

The schedule will eventually change over time, but for the moment, this is where we stand until further notice.  Like I said, if you have some free time, and want to come hang out with me, I would LOVE to see you.  Even if it's just for a few minutes.  It helps pass the time, and for the chemo ward to be less terrible.  

One major positive note in all of this, we FINALLY paid off all of our medical bills from Mayo!!  To say they were daunting and huge stress in my life is almost an understatement.  After a whole year of fighting with insurance, and Mayo, we finally reached an agreement, and because of all of your support and love, Charlie and I no longer have to worry about this piece of the puzzle.  Truly. I wish I could express my gratitude and thankfulness for everything, everyone has done for us.  We cannot stand alone, and we aren't.  We are blessed and loved beyond measure, and we thank God for the overwhelming amount of love and support we have already received.  

So again, thank you.   For everything.  Your prayers, support, and love help carry us through.  And we couldn't do any of this without all of the help we've already received.  

Thankful Sufferings

Some of us are lucky to have amazing father figures in their life.  I am one of those.  I have a daddy who I know would move mountains to do anything I absolutely needed, and on May 19th, 2012, I was lucky and blessed to gain a second father in my life. Both of these men, I know, would do anything for me if it meant I would or could get better.  When I think of my Heavenly Father, I view him through the lenses of the father figures I have in my life.  I don’t know if this is biblically sound or not, but it’s the best my limited mind can do when imagining Him.  

Powerful, disciplinarian, strong, wise, confusing, head of the Home, role models, loving, kind, stern, focused, and above all else, the boss.  See, I know my father is all of those things, as a kid I always knew he was the head of the house, but I also knew that he always taught us that we could do anything if we set our minds to it and worked hard.  Even in the times of struggle and disagreements, I knew he still loved me and would do anything for me.  

So imagine, as a young woman, with this view/mindset of my father, portraying that on to my Heavenly Father, who is far wiser, loving, and powerful than my earthly fathers.  Knowing that He has the ability to heal me, and to get rid of this disease, and yet, He chooses not to move in the way our prayers have been pleading for (at least not yet).  

When we found out in January that the first set of drugs we were trying didn’t work, I was devastated.  Broken.  It seems like everything we have been specifically praying for has gone in the exact opposite direction. We asked for this disease to never come back.  When it returned, we asked for the cancer to only be in my sternum. When it was in my sternum and my liver, we asked for guidance and for access to a new clinical trial that could potentially cure me.  When we found out about these new drugs that have limited to no side effects and could work for three to five years, we begged for them to work.  And yet, nothing.  Everything was backwards and wrong.  All of our prayers seemed to go unanswered.

So I got mad.  I stopped talking to God, I stopped praying.  It wasn’t working, what was the point?  Why serve a God who may not even be real or have the power to heal me?  Going to church become excruciatingly difficult.  Hearing God’s name and singing songs about His glory and love brought me to tears instantly.  I couldn’t even think of Him without crying or getting angry.  He had broken my heart and I felt so alone and abandoned.  Jesus, don’t you love me?  Can we please just get a little break?  Where are you?  All of my previous words seemed foolish.  And I became unsure.  

Charlie and I went out to San Diego, CA for a little trip.  He had to work, and I got to tag along. While we were out here, I didn’t pay much, but I did ask God something simple.  Every night, I asked Him to show me His love. Every night I did this, He responded.  Every night I would pray that prayer, that next morning I would get a text from a random individual telling me how much the love Charlie and I, and how they had prayed specifically for us.  When I didn’t pray, no text.  So, I kept praying that prayer.  It’s simple, really short, but what my heart needed.  

During this process, Charlie and I have also been hit with some substantial medical bills. They have been one of the largest things I worry about.  Countless hours on the phone talking to insurance, talking to the hospital, talking to others for help has led to nowhere.  The bills still remain and the worry/frustration remained.  I knew about the benefit planned for us, but I was still worried.  I didn’t think there was any way we could raise enough money to come close to what we needed to pay off our current medical debts, let alone what we needed for any future assistance.  

Three weeks before the benefit, while Charlie and I were in San Diego, I wasn’t thinking about the benefit.  I wasn't thinking about much other than my frustration with God's lack of "response".  Oddly enough though, it was during this time that I began saying my simple prayers, asking for God to show me His love.  And then it happened.  You know that saying, like when people are trying to impress someone, or outperform them, and they say something to the affect of “Here, hold my cup” and then they do something amazing that just blows your mind?  Well, that’s exactly what happened on the evening of my benefit.  God looked at me and said, “Here, hold my golden goblet.  Let me show you how much you are loved.” 

Words cannot even begin to describe the generosity, kindness, support, and overwhelming amount of love we have been shown.  Feelings of joy, shock, and unworthiness has swept over Charlie and I as we continue to be supported by so many.  While we know we have done nothing to deserve this outpouring of love, we appreciate it beyond words.  It is a much easier journey when you have the best support group in the world, and we have been blessed beyond measure with so many incredible people in our lives.   

I honestly don't know what my future looks like or what it holds.  The silent whispers in my head sometimes scare me, and I want to ignore them.  But I can't, and only God knows the number of days we each will hold on this earth.  Every day is a gift. Days of zero pain or sickness have become days that I cannot wipe the smile off of my face.  There is literally nothing that can put me in a bad mood on those days.  I got to go on a pain-free walk in the beautiful sunshine the other day and it was literally one of the best days of my life.  The simple things truly are the things that matter the most.  Sitting on the couch with my husband and dog, hanging out with my family, spending time with friends.  Those are the times that matter most.  I wish I would have fully and completely understood this earlier in my life.  

I have slowly been learning about His love, and I've been allowed to enjoy a peace from God during this time that has kept me away from a deep depression.  I have also learned that God is still moving, even if it it's in a way I don't understand or agree with.  He is the ultimate powerful God, and I am not.  He holds the universe in His hands, and ultimately I am called simply to obey Him and His commands.  He loves me, and even if He doesn't save me from these earthly sufferings, my eternity is firmly secured in His love and mercy.  

Since January, I completed reconstruction surgery.  Finally, after 3.5 years, and 7 different surgeries, that portion of this process is over.  Once the surgery was completed, I began a new oral chemo called Xeloda.  In all honesty, this drug has been terrible.  I have been sick numerous times, and I developed hand and foot syndrome so bad it became incredibly difficult simply walking across my living room floor.  We have since received some additional medications to help with the severe side effects, but I had to go through a dose reduction due to the toxicity level that was previously delivered with the higher dosage amounts. 

We are anxiously awaiting the next CT scan results as we are praying for something to begin working, to slow down the cancer, or kill it all together.  The scan will take place on March 23, so prayers during this time would be greatly appreciated.   

Again, we cannot begin to say thank you to everyone for all of their support and love.  We have been blown away by a community of generosity and love.  Underserving, and yet so appreciative, we continue on knowing we are not fighting this battle alone.  So again, thank you.

Love, 

Charlie and Megan