!!!ALL CLEAR!!!

There are days that  I wake up refreshed. The clean and deep first breath of air is invigorating. The sun is just making its presence known outside, my coffee is hot, the pages of my bible ruffle and the children are asleep. These are good days.

However, this past Friday was not that day. Having finished Jada's scans the day prior and still without results was not a recipe for a peaceful day. Throughout the day there was this eerie little reminder of the phone call that had not come. On Thursday evening I had spent some time on the phone with Jada's oncologist and it seemed as though he was going to call me by noon with the results.

Finally, after I tried distracting myself with work stuff at the church it was time for the family to hop in the car and drive up to see Jada's friend (and obviously OUR friend) Cora Peters for her birthday. Cora just turned sixteen so insurance rates will soar, curfew will be more strictly enforced, and a driver's license will be had (driver's ed happens to be one of her presents). While driving north on IL-40 I glanced at my time, 5:00pm. "Hmmm, Jess do you think I should just call St. Jude to find out?" "I'm not sure," was the reply. Well thanks for clearing up any ambiguity I had. Not five minutes later my phone rang and the I.D. said "St. Jude Peoria."

In that moment there is little training one can endure which makes them steady and fully prepared. I looked at Jess and her face went white. I picked up the phone and Dr. Al said very quickly, "I just wanted to tell you that Jada's scans all returned clear. You may come back Tuesday for a follow up."

There is a particular diner in Peoria my wife enjoys mainly because they serve what her limited diet can actually consume; it is called One World. As one walks in from the front door there is a mural with what appears to be a greek god holding the world on his shoulders. In that moment of pure elation after hanging up the phone, I felt like that mural - taking the weight and tossing it to the side. I cried. As we drove down the road I hung up the phone and just cried.

A short while later we arrived at Cora's house. Jada and I did a brief little celebratory dance next to our van as I got her out. Over the next few hours we were family. We played football, ate dinner, had great conversation, and in general were just welcomed in by a family who is in the middle of this same trial we just exited, and at that - for their second round. After 9 months in remission Cora's cancer returned. Our utter joy is co-mingled with perseverant prayer. For while our scans were ALL CLEAR there are many for whom scans are not clear at all.

This is the great temptation and the tremendous parallel: a body lacking health mimics sin and its catastrophic effect - death. The temptation, once health returns is to run out and buy the first t-shirt that says "I beat cancer" and speak of the strength of this person or that in facing a trial. Folks, Jada is not strong, Cora is not strong, BUT they both WALK WITH THE ONE WHO IS! In our fast paced, over-stimulated, under-related culture we must never tire of displaying our dependence. We have needed the Peter's in the past few months just as much, if not more than they have needed us. But, when the day is done our first and most conspicuous dependence is on Jesus Christ!

A Promise Made A Promise Kept

I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the last bag of chemo as it arrived in the room. Not really the emotional response I was figuring on. However, the inner elation was unreal. It's almost as if my mind had to convince my heart that this was a big deal.

LAST BAG OF CHEMO

Well, it wasn't long until my heart realized its bluff had been called and it put all its cards on the table. That moment came during the post hydration phase - after chemo is infused Jada must receive 2 hours of IV fluids to flush her only remaining kidney. Chemo started around 2:00pm - infused for 1/2 hour and then Jada had post hydration. 

Jada, the whole day, was blissfully unaware of the approaching magnitude. That is until about 15 or so minutes were showing on the screen of her IV unit. She began to get a little slap happy and bouncing around. 

At exactly 11 minutes remaining SHE GOT IT! 

My heart was reminded of the valleys, which on account of their depths had kept hidden the certain hope awaiting us. Jada too was reminded and in what I can only describe as a surreal moment her eyes locked with mine . . . and they told a story. A story of height, depth, length, breadth, and width of a Father's love - your love oh LORD! 

At exactly 11 minutes remaining Jada locked eyes with me, climbed up onto my lap, and her head just caved into my chest. I read all of Psalm 136 as a prayer of thanksgiving. Then, for the remaining ten minutes or so I rocked her in my arms and we both just cried. That same familiar phrase chanted SO MANY times throughout this began again, like waves on a beach - slow, methodic, inviting and overall just therapeutic - "Jesus is our strength" flowed off my tongue. 

Jada's last to-do list

You, Father, have kept your promise. You are near to the broken hearted, the humble, and the afflicted. Thank you. There is still a lengthy journey ahead but with you a promise made is a promise kept. 

With

"We approached the pre-operation room with a fair bit of trepidation, who doesn't? But we knew going into that it was going to be a difficult ordeal. "Ok," you say, "it's gonna be hard." So, Jessica and I wheel our lovely 5 yr old back to the room and begin to tell her stories. A line of different doctors come to see her. You can see it in her eyes and witness her body language. The time is drawing near. Just moments before our daughter goes under the knife to have what later would be known as a "huge" tumor (10 inches x 6 inches) removed she motions for me to come near.  Her tiny little body is covered in blankies and all the comforts we can afford physically while her heart is held up in prayer. As I get right next to her lips - she whispers soft and gently, "Daddy, I don't want to cry." and then she begins to briefly shed a few tears."

These were the words first shared on this blog as I set out to chronicle the journey of our daughter's fight for life. Tonight I sit in a chair just a few feet away listening to her labored breathing - noticing that her and her doll have matching outfits - one would expect nothing less. The significance of this day cannot be overstated. You see, on December 30th, 2010 Jada was diagnosed with kidney cancer and shortly thereafter we were informed that it would be about an 8 month journey of surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. Now we are just two more infusions away from being finished with treatment, tomorrow and Sunday (July 30, 31st).

Eight months on nearly any other terms seems so doable and like a drop in the bucket of time so-to-speak. In fact, the whole thing (8 months actually being a relatively short time versus how the time felt) reminded me a quote Kramer had in a Seinfeld episode years ago. In the span of eternity it is literally next to nothing. In the reality of our hearts it was FAR longer. When someone tells you that they had an experience that was emotionally draining. . . believe them. 

So what is it about this experience that has got me thinking in ways that I never have before? Prior to this, it was easy for me to shuffle someone's suffering into the deep recesses of my heart and dig it up in some rote prayer or small display of compassion - not always, but it did happen. Now, I must confront the idea that this whole trial: the surgery, the chemo, the vomiting, the fevers, the blood transfusions, the broken arms, the radiation, and the mortality - the constant draining and heart-deadening weight of thinking in terms of life or death for your firstborn - is ending. Sure, there will be days ahead of anxiety or fear: every three months for two years, etc. where scans and blood tests will be done (with cancer you are never really done).  But largely, this trial has run its course. 

I know the reader of this is thinking, "Doug, get a grip - your family seems to have been the target since January of many trials...don't you WANT this to end?" Yes, I do, make no mistake. I want this to be done - I long for waking and going to work and coming home. But that is not what I'm talking about when it comes to what I must confront. I am confronting the fact that I have conversations with many folks for whom there is not a foreseeable closure to the suffering.

I think of a woman down the hall whose son is experiencing what we did just a month back - it all seemed so distant until the reality of it looked me in the eye and spoke tenderly of her family and the toll it's taking on them. I think of my dear friend Cora and her family - fervent though they be in prayer many hurdles remain. They are coming to grips with the kindness of severity - that He is known best when He is needed MOST. I think of another little girl named Jada who has a rare and challenging cancer, and her parents really love Jesus. My mind is captured by all of the faces and my heart riveted to the core by the stories which accompany them. For many suffering continues - and it may for my family again.  

Psalm 119:67 "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word."

When all is considered there is a side of me that struggles mightily with ease. Essentially, it is the knowledge that there is suffering (or apathy, stubbornness, laziness) still on the prowl while I am enjoying the blessings and kindness of God. C.H. Spurgeon once said, Why is it that a little ease works in us so much disease? Can we never rest without rusting? Never be filled without waxing fat?"

In Philippians 1:18-30 the Apostle Paul experienced something similar. He was at the point of immanent death and desired to be done with the trial. However, he knew it was more beneficial to remain with them for their "progress and joy" in the faith. I can say with UTTER confidence that the Lord has walked WITH us every step of the way in this journey (as have many of you). So, as with Spurgeon I will question ease for it usually means one of two things in my life: either I am forging out on my own in a particular area outside of the precious Christian community the Lord designed for me to walk in OR there is a lack of trial and suffering which would throw me helplessly on my PRESENT Savior. 

I can rejoice that Jada is finishing her treatment but my prayer is that His presence maintain my vigilance with regard to those suffering a life lived without Jesus. 

***Quick note - An acquaintance of mine has written a new book entitled "With: Reimagining the way you relate to God." It will be available in late August - but you can check out the 1st chapter for free HERE - the author's name is Skye Jethani. ***

Please post any comments or thoughts you have - you never know, someone may be encouraged to deepen their relationship with God as a result. 

Reverence Demands Disclosure

Horizons are important, but they can be misleading. This little reality has been crystallized in my heart over the past couple of days.

Briefly: Jada's blood tests and many other exams indicated that she must have her central line removed (the iv line that was installed during her initial surgery for the administration of chemo). This happened on Saturday. This was difficult as she was sedated and still able (though to a small degree) to feel things. It happened this past Saturday the 2nd of July. Jess and I were then confronted with decisions. "What is God trying to tell us in this?" You see, she must have either a central line or a pic line to have her chemo administered. With only two more scheduled stays in the hospital for chemo one can appreciate our dilemma: call it quits or finish treatment.

I labored in prayer.

Last night as the day (the day we must decide for certain) was approaching I decided "I am going to bed early and waking early for some time with Jesus before Jada wakes." I got ready for bed and decided 11:30 would be my target (yes that's early here at the hospital). I picked up my prayer journal and felt convicted to flip back to December 29th, 2010. 11:30 came and went like an impatient cab driver on the crowded streets of Manhattan. It was more like 12:30 when I finally put down the journal, after many tears had been shed. Here was the overwhelming conclusion:

Trusting God looks different when read through the strokes of a pen by someone who has nothing left to hold to.  Now, I'm going to be using a huge word here, robust with theological implications: God doesn't just want our "biggies."

As I read through those journal entries my heart was wrangled up by my lack of trust and level of fear lately. While laboring in prayer I just assumed the only thing I was to pray about was Jada and the answer we most urgently needed. However, as the Spirit comforted/counseled me (in John 16:7 Jesus promises to send the Spirit and one of his roles will be comforter/counselor) and I began to grasp with clarity the following from God: Maybe Jada's line infection and removal was not designed to be a sign from Me that you should stop treatment now. Have you considered that maybe this is a very stout little test of your faith to continue in what I had clearly laid before you at the beginning of January?

You see, in Isaiah 40:13 states, "Who has measured the Spirit of the Lord, or what man shows him his counsel?" To revere rightly means that I release what I do not understand or that which I struggle with and cast it into his very capable hands.

Immediately as I woke this morning I called my wife and told her of how God had pressed this on my heart and confessed that I had not been trusting him. I shared with her all the instances in my journal where I disclosed fear, concern, doubt, frustration, confessed sin, etc.

There are yet difficult days ahead - and that is the danger in horizons. In one sense they present an ever changing canvas of where the earth's surface meets the sky. There is no hope in that. In another sense they are dangerous because they present something that is immanent - as in "danger is just over the horizon." However, there is yet a third nuance in the meaning of "horizon" I wish to explore. That is, "to broaden one's understanding."

If you and I only approach God with the colossal issues and not the mole hills of doubt, spilled juice, heated conversations with our spouses, tear in the fabric of our shirt, length of a stoplight, concern of how we'll adjust in a relationship if we open up, lack of sleep, lack of money, excess of money, tinge of pride, fear of reprisal, lack of earnestness in prayer and the study of the Bible, or any number of other issues - we are at risk of looking toward horizons for hope. This, make no mistake, is risky business for its aiming at a moving target. OR the other horizon-oriented option would be to seek the avoidance of immanent danger. Here you are at risk of viewing God only as punitive and not grace filled. This we all do (or have done) to our own peril.

The third and best option is expansion. God means things for your GOOD Christian! Do you really believe that with EVERY fiber of your Spiritual Being - for we are first Spiritual and then Physical (I Cor. 2:14-16)? God has wrought Good from this whole thing with Jada - in my heart and in the hearts of many reading this. And this, co-laborer in Christ, is why we can move with confidence to have a pic-line installed, begin chemo tomorrow night (Wednesday July 6th), and finish the course of action the Lord set before us originally.

I will say with conviction one last time: If you revere HIM that demands you disclose to Him EVERYTHING - not just stuff you cannot handle. This is my means of conviction right now, I MUST stop praying within my own means to provide. It's not that my prayers are not large enough, that is a  logical fallacy rendering my prayer life ineffective. My prayers are not small enough. What about your prayers - Too large or Too small?

Eventful VS. Eventual

I will tell you from experience after four days spent in a hospital, an eight hour break is not what you had in mind. That being said, its not one of those negotiable matters in life upon which you may impose your will. So - here goes, again.

Thursday (June 16th) we had the absolute pleasure of leaving the hospital after having a four day stay for chemo. We were barely down the road when Jada started coughing and crying in the backseat. To spare you the details, what followed was my first experience of maintaining the speed limit, staying in my own lane and managing to keep vomit off the seats of my pristine 1998 Olds by way of a collector's popcorn tin (Chicago Bears of course). That was the drive home. Cancer and its treatment always has the capability to throw curveballs which rival any professional in the majors right now.

We arrived home and Jada was not herself. After coaxing her to eat a piece of sweet corn for lunch she practically put herself down for a nap. She awoke screaming. "Not cool," you think as a parent - you would be right. This, however, is not uncommon. Jada to wake crying. What was unusual about this particular episode was simply that of the level of her screaming and apparent pain. Not constant, but major in moments. I called her oncologist and he asked to see her right away. Long story made very short - Jada was immediately re-admitted with a bad case of the shingles. We caught them early - thank the Lord - but there is much pain involved for her. And, the looming threat of yet another unplanned stay at the children's hospital of Illinois.

Once admitted we quickly settled in and are doing as well as can be expected. When I asked Jada today what it feels like (you must know that it hurts mainly when it is touched) she replied by saying, "It feels like someone is standing there with a knife poking it into my side and cutting me." I thought, "wow, that's way too specific to be made up." So, I taker her word for it.

So what now? What are we to make of such things? God's goodness is not lost in such times. We have already had ample opportunity to honor the name of Jesus and speak the Gospel into the lives of those we are coming in contact with. We truly are loving the nursing staff and all their efforts.

You may say, "this is just too much for Jada (and her family)!" Don't. Don't for a minute think that Jess and I have gotten through to this point with some magic formula or cleverly devised scheme which gives just the right amount of poise when necessary. We are where we are PRECISELY because of Jesus. The Apostle Paul speaks of this in I Cor. 15 - God's grace does not nullify our toil and striving - it actually gives them great purpose. We are, by God's grace, redeeming the time. Today Jada and I read (listened) to half of the book of Acts to help her see that those who love Jesus STILL SUFFER and to remind me of the same.

The crux of the matter is this if you believe in Jesus Christ as LORD and Savior: do you focus on the eventful or the eventual? Read those words carefully, because when the Spirit gave them to me today as I read through Titus and Philippians (in particular ch. 3) I was immediately comforted. This IS OUR AGE to experience trial, suffering, famine, nakedness, peril, danger, sword, bankruptcy, strife and all manner of difficulty. That is precisely what makes our lives so eventful right now. Believe it or not - there WILL BE a time when this is most assuredly not the case. Eventually, we will see Jesus face to face - our bodies will be restored, and our joy and crown will be to glory in Him all the day long.

Does it stink right now? You bet. But, I don't have to plant that in Jada's fertile little mind now do I? I can speak life to her through the WORD of God.

Click the "Post a comment" button below and weigh in with your "Eventful VS. Eventual" thoughts.

No Victorious Rival

It catches you by surprise, the pursuit of a relentless Savior.

I fired up the car with a fair bit of excitement and began a conversation with Jada as we drove out of town. The words we share back and forth remind me of the maturing trajectory the Lord has designed for all of us since December 30th - (it really has been that long since d-day: that's diagnosis day).

Consider then, the phone call I placed that launched my heart into spontaneous praise: Jada and I are driving down the Knoxville Ave. in Peoria, IL going to meet with the orthopedic surgeon about her broken arm (see both pics illustrating God's goodness in the FULL HEALING of her arm as her cast was removed today). We were approaching Peoria Imaging - the site of the first ultrasound & MRI which revealed the football sized mass in her abdomen. That was on December 30th. The closer we came to the location I began to uncontrollably sob. I called my wife and told her I was passing the Imaging center and that I was crying - she shared my sentiments with that day of discovery.

That is not unusual - to have a location or landmark of some sort trigger an emotion that can overwhelm you (anyone who has experienced loss, or is in the midst of a deep trial will agree). What was unusual is that just this morning I was reading and writing (handwriting the book of Romans) Romans 8...specifically verses 38-39 and noticing that 38 begins with "For I am sure..." and verse 39 ends with "...of God in Christ Jesus." It became clear in that moment that God's love has NO VICTORIOUS RIVAL - for Jesus Pinned them ALL to the Cross with His perfect obedience!

What a source of Praise! A steadfast and loving creator who not only cares for His own but pursues them with a love that cannot be overtaken by anything in all creation. The sensation experienced is not unlike God's words to Job in 38:8-11. God has prescribed limits and said, "this far you shall come and no further."

What causes me to erupt in praise despite the fact that today was: one dr appointment to have a cast removed, bloodwork at the clinic, admission to the the pediatric critical care ward, and eventual chemo (to begin about 9pm tonight)? I could easily list a hundred things- but bursting to the fore is this view that God has set limits and he has brought us a LONG WAY since December 30th. All of this rests on the firm foundation that is the Gospel - the furthering of His Kingdom and the dispensation of His grace by the "word of our testimony." In short - it is founded on Hope. A hope that does not disappoint.

Follow this link: www.jadashope.com to read a little more about HOPE that does not disappoint. While you're there you'll notice the site was created because a great friend of mine, Dan Estes is running a half marathon to honor Jada.

Actions in Truth = LOVE!

Its amazing the support that comes when the option for life flees.

In the early stages our Dr. had warned us, "your daughter will likely act much different with attention." She has and does. Hence our concern for how she would handle the ABSOLUTE BLESSING that Friday June 3rd was. Hundreds of people coming to show their support physically by going to City Park in Tremont, eating food, playing music, selling baked goods, playing on bouncers, having a hillbilly olympics (Only in Tremont by the way), and going to a swim party to cap it off.

So, we spent the week praying with and over Jada and Oliver in the hopes that they would be gracious and thankful for everything that was done for us. Michelle Monk was the quasi-mastermind behind the whole event. Which is to say she was more or less helped organize it. It was fueled by students. Can you believe it! High school students ... you know ... teens. They often get accused of being apathetic, lazy, (insert the adjective). That could not be FURTHER from the truth last week. We found that they were passionate, hard working, and deeply caring.

In an earlier post I spoke of at least three things which have sustained us in this journey: Christ, community, and confession. It is Tim Chester and Steve Timmis in their book Total Church who say, "we are called to a dual fidelity, Gospel and Community." Community, in the truest sense is fleshed out for us in Acts 2 where the author tells us that the community was "together and had all things in common and shared as any had need." Jessica and I believe firmly that the depth of love we have experienced is first God's design in nearness, secondly its a byproduct of faith in Jesus, and thirdly - its one of the characteristics of Tremont as a community. However, none of it happens without the first element that Chester and Timmis propose - Gospel.

It is the good news of Jesus: His life on earth carried out in perfection, His death on the cross as an act of perfect obedience, and His resurrection to deliver the Holy Spirit. Truly, when Christ said, "greater love has no man than this - that he lay down his life for his friends" He MEANT it at the deepest level. So it is with Jessica and I. Many have said, "we love you and are praying continually for you." I John 3:18 says, "Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and truth." We have experienced the Gospel worked out in Community not simply because Tremont is a great town to live in (though we don't deny it) BUT because there are MANY in Tremont who take seriously this notion that God - through the Gospel compels us to live in Community... and things like the Party in the Park are a natural outflow of Gospel intake.

Now, to the reader who reads this and thinks community at this level is of a bygone era: have you considered what life would look like if we lived like this always? Consider, for a moment, just Northfield Christian Fellowship - the church where I serve as youth pastor - is it not possible that the entire body be sold out to the transforming power of the Gospel? If they be sold out to that, what then becomes of their lives? Well, they are shared. Shared in the deepest sense - warts and all. Knowing that it is not how I appear to you - to be controlled in fear or people pleasing, but that in God my righteousness is found. How free would you be to love recklessly (not without discernment or wild abandon, but with actions and in truth), to share authentically, and to walk faithfully?

Our (The Rumbold Family) view of God's love has been irreparably influenced by the Gospel in action through community. Would you not desire the same? Why is Christianity not lived like this from day to day? post your thoughts below - is this blog helping you to understand Gospel and Community? My prayer is that it is a service to your understanding of Jesus Christ!

Few things...

What is it the draws to your attention that pit in your stomach? I know of a few things in my life: driving on the highway and passing a patrol car parked in a strategic spot, saying something vile and realizing just moments too late that I wished I'd never said it (seek out my wife for examples), and jumping of cliffs or out of airplanes (I've done both...but it was a while ago). These are all terrible and gripping for sure, but there is one that supersedes them all: it would be the sound of vomit taking you out of a dead sleep.

Oddly, this last one is a fairly regular experience (about once every 3 weeks). However, considering the fact that many other patients deal with this A LOT more than us, we have nothing to complain about. So, "why write about it Doug?" The reason is threefold: one, for the Glory and fame of God. Two, for the encouragement of others seeking Christ as a refuge of trust. Finally, for my own catharsis.

Here is the breakdown: I am asleep at about 6am when I hear a few tears and some rustling about. I stay in a light sleep mode. Jada then cries out for me and simultaneously vomits all over. Then the tears come. Profuse tears. It is hard to watch - many times I have been there, sitting next to her holding the bag and rubbing her back. But this one is particularly difficult as she struggles to an upright position getting used to her newly casted arm. We pray. We thank God while praying that it is not too overwhelming. Then we clean things up. While she is still crying, she asks for a rag and cleans her face off. Finally, she looks up at me with those eyes... those eyes have been telling all kinds of stories for 6 years now. Sometimes the stories are full of anger, sometimes sad, sometimes determined - but at all times they are beautiful. This time, however, they are sad and determined.

She glances up and says, "Dad, I just wanna put on a new outfit." The picture you see is moments after I agreed and we worked out the details.

God has spared us of MUCH during her treatment and provided many blessings - and "many" is kind of like a baked potato without any of the fixings, it just lacks. However, God allows things like a broken arm in the middle of chemo to help us endure with patience. Colossians 1:11 says "May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy..." He allows vomiting and financial pressure, relational disharmony, and all kinds of things to help us endure with patience that we might find Joy.

So, as I put Jada in the bath today and we talked - those conversations are always so lucid - she opened up. She explained to me that she cleaned her cast with soap and water. Then, fixing her eyes on it, she says, "guess that's why Jesus gave us this (and knocks on the cast)." "What do you mean sweetie?" "Well, you know dad, to trust that He knows what he's doing and to read the Bible." "Jada, I want you to know without a doubt, that God does know what He's doing - the Bible tells us so."

Romans 15:4 says - "For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope."

So, where ever you are right now - THERE IS HOPE! It comes at a premium though.

Feel free to post what it is that you are enduring so that I may pray for you - OR just post that you'd desire prayer.

Just my bunny

Yesterday marked what most would label a milestone. One could easily look at it and say, "milestone, marker, landmark" or any of a thousand metaphors - but pure and simple - it was a momentous occasion and cause for review in the journey.

Here it is: Yesterday Jada received her last scheduled outpatient chemotherapy infusion! This means from now until August she will receive chemo only while in the hospital and at that every 2-3 weeks depending on her blood levels.

The picture shows Jada at the very beginning of the journey we have been on now since December 30th, 2010 - the day of her diagnosis with Kidney Cancer. If you click on the image to make it bigger, you will read the text - Psalm 40:9-10. A dear friend made (thank you Tyler Thompson) this picture for me as a reminder... I thought this morning might be a good opportunity to unload that on you, the unsuspecting reader, what that "reminder" is.

Psalm 40:9-10:

⁹ I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; behold, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD. ¹⁰I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart; I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation.

To suffer without purpose or direction is to walk through life not knowing Jesus! To suffer and know the present comfort (one of the functions of the Holy Spirit listed in John 14-16...by the way, this is a great discourse on all the Spirit is - not what we make him to be) of the Spirit is to KNOW the salve or balm-like nature of God's sovereignty. Let me put it this way: how many of us will readily place our trust in that which will disappoint us, even in the short term? The answer, MANY - if not all of us will do this.

"My spouse would never treat me unkind, my kids will always respect my wishes, my job will always be here, I am well known at school or work and people like me, if I roll up my sleeves and just work hard then this or that will happen, we have set up a nice nest egg for retirement that will sustain us," etc etc etc.

The writer of Hebrews is clear that Jesus is the sure and firm anchor for our soul which will NEVER disappoint - the only one we can ever hang our hopes on and find them realized. From the very beginning with Jada God has given grace and mercy in helping us realize this trial is not about us. We have the happy tune of God's deliverance and salvation whistling from our lips - though there have been times of sadness, self-pity, and complaining. Since my first blog post on this new life of ours at the beginning of January, Jess and I have endeavored to "not restrain my (our) lips" regarding the deliverance and faithfulness of God. A simple fact Jada brought to light just yesterday as we traveled to clinic.

Each time we leave the house go to the clinic we spend the first half of the ride praying and talking through fears or concerns for that day. It was hard to keep the smile off my weary lips as I said, "Jada, do you know what today is?" She says blithely, "clinic, why dad?" "Jada, today is your LAST outpatient CHEMOTHERAPY!" The words dance off my tongue with a sweetness only Jesus can cause. "What do you think about that sweetie?" Three words that indicate the work the Spirit has been up to in her little heart rolled out, "God did it" she yells.

I look in the rearview mirror and ask her, "well, if God did that, what should we tell people?" She locks her eyes with mine and states with conviction, "we should tell them."

Clinic and the rest of the day went much as it always does... some screaming children here and there, no real schedule - just a lot of waiting, blood drawn, weight taken, height checked, heart listened to, crafts done, conversations had, lunch consumed (a celebration lunch considering the day of course), back home, played outside, shot given (Jada receives an injection daily to help with her blood levels), and finally, BEDTIME! I am lying in bed with Jada reviewing the day and reading a little to her. After prayer and a kiss on the forehead she looks at me and places one hand on my cheek. Intently she says, "Dad, did you tell anyone about Jesus today at clinic?"

"Yes sweetie, I did," was followed by a brief account so Jada would know what I meant. "What about you Jada, did you tell anyone about Jesus?" "Just my bunny," she remarks. "Really, what did you tell him?" "I didn't tell, I sang - I sang him a song," was her reply. "I see, what song was that honey?" "I made it up, it was about God being good."

You see, ever since the beginning our prayer has been for deliverance. Our picture of what that is has been eroded, destroyed, and rebuilt. We are learning always that just as important as prayer is acceptance. Acceptance of the deliverance that God, in his Sovereignty, chooses to supply you with. We have (and continue to) experience deliverance in Christ, community and confession.

In Christ it is the present comfort that his sacrifice and gift of the Spirit gives. In community our nuclear families and the church body have upheld and encouraged us. In confession it is the place of brokenness which has a twofold declaration: one, God's word is ALL we can hang on to. Two, confessing sin and ineptitude at every turn so as to trust fully in God's process here.

Will you, today, join us in "not restraining your lips" and "not concealing God's steadfast love" so that others will see the GREAT joy that it is to tether our hope with the ANCHOR of JESUS?

Ponder for a moment then, who is glorified?

Please don't take it away...

The freshness of day has dawned. The dew is still lightly wetting the ground which needs no saturation after the rains. The sun shines. Birds chirp. Bunnies hop across my yard searching for their next morsel. These and a thousand other gifts have already been "unwrapped" today.

But their lurks on the horizon, if honesty and transparency are actually in practice, something concerning. Haunting, perhaps.

"For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (Rom. 8:18). "That I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead" (Phil. 3:10-11).

No one wakes up in the morning and decides to get out of bed because a cold shower and a worthless breakfast awaits. Sure, there is duty in waking, but there is also delight. I know of no one who takes the sound the alarm clock makes (you know the sound, the one that can take you from a peaceful sleep to a racing heart in a matter of seconds) and creates a playlist on their iPod from it just to enjoy. Beds are warm, pillows are soft, covers are gentle and comforting. We set it up that way. We like comfort. Usually, it drives a great portion of our decisions. Not in a "path-of-least-resistance" way but in a "how-can-I-minimize-hardship" way. The crazy thing with comfort is that it provides a blanket of security... or so we think.

The concern that lurks on the horizon for me is that comfort would return. I know what you may be thinking, "Doug, comfort is nice - cushy couch, warm vacations, a nicely grilled burger, a car with no mechanical problems, and health...most of all health - would that not be nice? Is that not what you desire right now?" This is where it gets complicated. You see, the answer is yes and no. Kind of. Let me explain.

Yes, I want this to be over - I want normal. Yes, I desire something that is not constant. Yes, I would love to look at my daughter with hair and have friends over, and not go to clinic and a million other things we used to have.

HOWEVER

Normal is not what has caused us to love Jesus deeply. Comfy couches, well maintained cars, juicy burgers, and health are not the ingredients for perseverance. Predictable and visible are not what comprises HOPE and FAITH. So, while I desire this to be over and have a return to life as we once knew it - with a far greater degree of purpose and intent I don't want it over. I look on the horizon and I see that the removal of trial and suffering brings with it the potential for comfort and that scares me. I want to, as Paul says, "know you in your suffering." He does not say, "I want to know you when you feet were propped up and people served you grapes on a platter in the shade of willow tree."

Maybe you too echo with me this concern: "Lord, don't remove affliction simply because it is hard, give me a reprieve that I might catch my breath before I go deeper into knowing YOU!"

"I hate mortality"

"I hate mortality." The words flew off my tongue as I kissed Jessica goodbye with my arms loaded up full of bags and a 6-year-old...and I walked out the door. That was only 2.5hrs ago.

I hate mortality because it is so much more immanent than it ever was in days past. Mortality stands ready to remind each of us that the life we so take for granted is but a breath - each moment that passes can scarce guarantee the next. That, for the sake of my daughter and the rest of my family, is what I loathe. Last night Jada's appetite and demeanor went markedly down hill. This morning she woke with zero appetite and asked me to hold her to the couch from her bedroom.

Anyone knows that Jada Noel Rumbold does not "give" easily in regards to just resting...so this came as a surprise. I took her tempt mid morning and it was already 99. Knowing that 100.4 earns an undesirable trip to the hospital, I kept checking. Within 2hrs it had climbed past 102. If this were Facebook I would click the comment button and type, "DISLIKE!" I called, they (hospital) responded and our bags were packed. Jess and I stood in her bedroom before my departure praying over her - tears streaming down my face, much as they are right now as I write this, begging God for strength and comfort as well as healing.

We arrived and were checked in promptly. I read to her, I prayed with her, and I put her to sleep for a short nap. Now, I count the minutes until she is awake while I pound these emotions out on the keyboard. Despite all the emotional noise plaguing my ears, the Spirit CLEARLY spoke to me - read Ephesians 2.

Obediently I picked up my phone, clicked on the Bible app and began reading.

"...remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having NO HOPE and WITHOUT GOD IN THE WOLRD. BUT NOW in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He HIMSELF is our PEACE..." (2:12-14a)

I may loathe this process of refinement as much as I revel in its benefits to Jess and I spiritually. To dislike the process is human. However, I urge the reader of this to consider the following: how much more hellish would this whole experience be for us (or anyone else) if we had "no hope" and were "without God in the world?" The answer is simple. It would be AWFUL.

It is a sweet refrain when one can sing again and again, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." I am no longer separate, no longer far off, no longer without hope, no longer without peace. So maybe I don't hate mortality. Maybe, just maybe, its a good thing. Being reminded of my alienation, lack of hope, and distance from God is good. From God's perspective mortality is a wrench, or a screwdriver... a tool used to illustrate the immortality and enduring HOPE found in Jesus.

Routine of the Abnormal and the Living Words of GOD!

Clinic mornings are never my favorite and yesterday was no exception. However, as I am learning, our LORD usually lays me metaphorically on my back looking up with no hope in self-salvation before I will pay attention to a truth He must impart.

Jess and I had gone to bed on Monday night discussing Psalm 71-78 (I recommend you read them). Our habit lately is to use the Bible application on my phone (thank you brother Alan for getting me a phone which encourages me to look at JESUS), locate a passage, and select the "read aloud" option and have it read to us. This has been GREAT because it is the closest thing to routine we have going right now. Having arrived Psalm 78:7 which speaks of "setting hope in God" I began to ask Jess what that looks like for her right now. "I have never been so pressed for stillness and had so little of it - yet clinging to the little I do have." Quickly I agreed and added this metaphor:

Have you ever taken a towel that was sopping wet and tried to wring it out completely? God's word is so saturated with Goodness, Greatness, Grace and Glory that even one drop of it is sufficient. So it is that each morning I envision God's word as a sopping wet towel in which the Spirit wrings out just a drop and this is sufficient for me to live on for the day.

Return with me if you will to the morning visit to clinic in which Jada received her chemotherapy and some rather sour news that her counts (especially her hemoglobin) are critically low. This simply means that she is in need of yet another transfusion. The staff will reevaluate her blood-work again tomorrow and determine whether she will have a transfusion. Please pray RIGHT NOW for RISING COUNTS to the Glory of God!

Jada has become increasing soft and her comments generally necessitate a thoughtful response from me. As we got on the highway Jada says, "its crazy that people just throw trash out their window onto the ground dad." "I know sweetie, it does not show respect nor love for what God has given us to take care of does it?" Jada processes and replies, "yeah, and its against the law dad. Did you know dad that there are many laws - some that are even crazy?" "Sure, I knew that sweetie." She looks straight ahead and says, "dad the people that make laws make them for us to live and that is very nice of them. They are kind of like moms and dads because parents make laws at home to help us live."

I thought to myself "I wonder if she sees the connection between this and the commands and prohibitions in the Bible." While still in my own thoughts Jada says, "dad, remember yesterday when I did not listen to you and you spanked me?" "Yes." "That was good because so many people in the Bible had to learn the hard way like me. God loved them but he made laws," she said. "I know Jada, Jesus clearly told us that His words give life and that He himself is the way, truth and the life." I wanted to get her away from the term "laws" and help her see Jesus because he is the fulfillment of those laws (John 5:39).

He is our life, even in the routine of the abnormal.

If tears were my song

It started much like any trip home from Peoria had these last couple weeks; a bunch of chatter in the back seat from Jada who is constantly inquiring of me an explanation of something. However, as the radiation and chemo take their cumulative affect on Jada, we are noticing increased fatigue. She says to me after we drive about 2 blocks, "Dad, I am exhausted from this stuff, I am going to take a quick nap." That's it, she's out.

Earlier that evening I had snuck into the control room for the radiation oncology department where I snapped this photo of Jada from a monitor. Hard to watch is one thing, pain is another, anguish is likely the nearest English equivalent for the emotion I was experiencing. It gained strength as we headed to the car and began the drive home.

By the time we were crossing the bridge, I was shedding tears at a rate which makes driving difficult and breathing labored. This whole thing still has that element to it - - - the one where it creeps up on you without notice. Jada slept and I had some Kari Jobe (Jada's favorite singer) playing softly in the background. I got home and carried Jada from the car (the radiation saps her strength and although she can walk she prefers to be carried) to the couch. Her stay on the couch was not long as she was quickly acquainted with "her bucket." She kept that little life saver close for the next 3 hours as she hovered over it while I rubbed her and read Genesis 17-19 to her (She and I were having a disagreement earlier about the order of Abram's name change to Abraham...I happened to win that one). We had reinforcements with Diane Imig (who comes to administer one shot to Jada per evening), but it was a painful evening.

I went to bed thinking, "Lord, this is week 1 of 30 or so. Weary needs to be transformed into a more powerful word...possibly with a metaphor attached to really drive home the intensity of the emotions inside." In the purest sense I was asking for someone to validate my grief and make much of me - or at the very least - remind us of the promise of God in suffering and trial. The ultimate GOAL is hope which is poured into our hearts by God through the Holy Spirit (see Rom. 5:5).

So, my heart races to catch hold of the knowledge my head contains but will not easily relinquish (if for no other reason than the enemy's use). My lovely wife was now long asleep and therefore an excellent prayer target. I grab her hand gently and pray for the Lord's strength and that the Holy Spirit would do His job to remind us of all we have been taught (read John 14-16 to see this truth explained from the mouth of Jesus).

As my own head finally hit the pillow I thought of two final things worth sharing: one, Jessica and I are in the thick of it right now and our response, however hard it may be, is not in our own strength. JESUS IS OUR VICTORY...even if that victory is only climbing up the stairs to make a cup of coffee to get our day rolling after minimal sleep. To think otherwise is among the gravest of sins and really a marker of tremendous pride - an all out affront against the Spirit which actually grieves Him. To quote Francis Chan, "I pray for the day when believers care more about the Spirit's grief than their own."

Secondly, I continue to have the conviction of the LORD in my reading of the word. Particularly, the story of Sarah and Isaac struck me and has been wrestling my sense of composure (spiritual composure or always having it together) to the ground. Here's how: Sarah and Abraham had to be told NUMEROUS TIMES that the covenant was with them and God WOULD provide a son (I actually did not count - forgive me, we are short on time these days). Yet, they still tried to forcibly square-peg-round-hole the covenant into existence. Always gentle, always loving, God continues to take them back and explain Himself again. God is like that with me. Sure, I grow weary and discouraged - but I am realizing that it is the definitive pause at the top of his swing before the hammer comes down again to drive the truth even further into my heart.

This is what I put forward for your consideration tonight... if tears were your song (and God's definitive pause) what would be their refrain? "God, you don't understand how hard this is, why me, I HATE how this ALWAYS seems to happen to me." O R "For you are my lamp, O Lord, and my God lightens my darkness." (II Sam. 22:29).

. . . Mortality Matters . . .

"The state of being subject to death." There it is, the most concise definition of mortality that I could find on Dictionary.com. As I watched the first drips of chemotherapy going into Jada's IV today I caught view of the bag in the picture you see to the left. I swallowed hard and realized (yet again) we are not dealing with a flu or a seasonal but pesky cold. We are dealing with a very rare but also very deadly disease. "Alright, God has things under control," I say. Then I turn around just in time to see Dr. McGee. He is the one administering the radiation for Jada's treatment regimen.

He tells me that after the pathology findings Jada has gone from Stage 1 to Stage 2. This information you likely already know. What you may not know is that her chances for a cure decreased with that prognosis from 85% to somewhere in the 70s. Breathe deep Doug, pick up your phone, call your wife and let her know not to be alarmed. Just a few hours have passed since my lovely Jessica and Pierce (the newest addition to our family) visited Jada and already the joy of that has worn off with the sandblaster (forgive the weak metaphor) of unfortunate news, an all too common feeling these last few weeks.

However poor the news two things remain paramount in our thinking: one, Galatians 3:3 indicates that we have begun by the spirit and therefore cannot attain our goal by human effort. The Spirit of God has been with us in a near palpable way since day one - this means, quite simply, that Jessica and I CANNOT attain our goal by our own effort. "What's the goal?" you ask, simple - cling to Christ in faith and have others take note that we have been with Jesus.

Two, mortality matters because it is precisely what God is not. Psalm 90:1-4 says, "¹Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.²Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. ³You return man to dust and say, "Return, O children of man!" ⁴For a thousand years in your sight are

but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night."

If we had a God constrained by time as we are - we would not have a God who could comfort us, provide peace, PERFECT wisdom, or even atone for our sins. Its not as though I invite the news which cements Jada's (or for that matter my own) mortality. All I know is that it is YET ANOTHER stream of mercy by which God's character is made manifest to Jess and I.

Goodness has a name and it is "God!"