What comfort remains

I sat on the couch with my only daughter holding her hand with my left and applying a fair amount of pressure with my right hand just below her sternum. The chemo tends to cause localized pain in short bursts for Jada who usually just calls out for someone to put pressure on the area. After the pain had subsided we just sat and talked - with each fluttering moment she would reach up and grab a fist full of hair and hand it to me. How does one respond when put in such a precarious spot? I didn't. I just took the hair, smiled, wrapped my arm around her and kissed her bare head.

Later, as Jess and I were putting her to bed, we noticed that she has begun to suck her thumb. Now, Jess and I have often said, "the only easy things with Jada have been potty training and bike riding." Which, as you might well have guessed by now, does not include the cessation of thumb sucking. Measures not normally used by parents were employed by us to get her to stop this little habit 2 years ago. It finally met its death about 10 months to a year ago...or so we thought. After Jess left the room I asked her, "Jada, I thought you hated sucking your thumb? What makes you do it now - in front of me without even hiding it?" Pausing for a moment and the and then curling her body tightly around mine on the bed, she says, "well dad, I guess its the only thing that still feels good... you know, since my cancer happened."

This may be a shot in the dark (mainly because I am blindly unaware of the consumer of this blog on a daily basis), but odds are I am not speaking to a group of folks void of the range of human emotion. So, you will understand when I tell you - there simply is not a good way to describe what I feel FOR my daughter - Jess feels the same as I do on this one. We would rather she woke up with no hair instead of this bit by bit process - one may as well chunk out pieces of your parent heart with each hunk of hair. Since mid week this past week this has been whats on the mind of Jessica and I as we discuss what will likely happen when Jada goes out into public in the coming days.

It is with no light heart at all then, that I have begun to ask this question in my daily times with Jesus: Do I really DELIGHT in the sovereignty of God? I mean truly D-E-L-I-G-H-T. Culture says that pain is bad and therefore no good can come of it; the same logic any of my children tries to wield just before I seek to apply "the rod of knowledge to the seat of understanding" if you know what I mean. I know this is not true - and I could run through a myriad of reasons as to why: both experiential and spiritual. If no good comes from pain then I have just tread lightly on the grace of God and made a mockery of the most intense, heart shattering pain ANYONE ANYWHERE has EVER experienced - the willful sacrifice of one's only begotten to benefit anyone who would have it and satisfy justice.

Do I delight in the sovereignty of God and is my faith built only when I get what I pray for OR can I delight in HIS goodness OVER and AGAINST my current comfort (or lack thereof)?

For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. ⁹Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. ¹⁰He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. ¹¹You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many.

Let the beginning of this week for you find its deepest rest in what is about to be read: What comfort remains for a 5 year old facing some of the darkest hours of her life and for her parents (and countless others for that matter) who are "so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself..."? Simply put - Jesus! Romans 8:32 - "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all good things?" Because God did not spare Jesus - then you and I can have "tunnel vision" as it were, and rest SECURE that GOOD WILL FOLLOW. Hard to see? Yes. Hard to believe? Yes.

But praise be to God's GLORIOUS grace He WILL HELP my unbelief, and consequently, any reader of this as well.

Not ideal or is it?

Last Friday we sat in clinic – Jada and I – when a 4yr old boy walked in with no hair. Jada takes one glance and politely whispers in my ear, “daddy, did he have chemo?” Throughout this whole process I have never been an advocate of keeping information from my daughter for her “protection.” This was no time to veer from the already well-beaten path. I looked her square in the eye and said, “he sure did sweetie, and soon your head will look like that because all of your hair will fall out.” Jada wrinkles up her cute little face and says with a sinister little grin, "maybe it'll come back a different color."

That was Friday...last week. A lot has happened since then and now we are in the hours before dawn of Friday this week, the 28th of January. Jada has been oscillating back and forth - most recently in a conversation with Jess she exclaimed, "I will never be beautiful without my hair!" Its hard to know, but for now this will serve as your update (for those update-hungry folks out there). Now... I get to talk about my wife!

I am an idealist at heart. That is precisely why my definition of 'ideal' was initially challenged when Jessica and I originally began a relationship. There are few things less ideal than I was in high school - to save one the horror of a seared image in your mind, here's the skinny: I was 6 ft. tall and skinny as a rail, I parted my hair in the middle (yes, that's right... I said 'parted'), I wore hand me downs, wore braces, hated anything to do with words or speaking, and sat by myself in the cafeteria day after day. Jessica, now she was ideal (and still is). Not many of you know it, but she used to have curly hair (which was beautiful), was a straight A student, phenomenal athlete, outgoing, and a thousand other characteristics. As far as rank goes, there were not leagues that could have depicted the chasm that existed between her and I - only a spectrum in the world's eyes; her on the high end and me opposite.

So, when college finished and Luke & Debbie Porritt fixed us up (THANK YOU GUYS!), I struggled. You know what its like. You have seen the movies where a guy is tongue tied trying to talk to the beautiful woman - try having that feeling every day. So early on - as the picture indicates- Jessica certainly caught my eye because, in my opinion, she was (is) stunning. However, being an idealist puts a strange sort of seat belt on your expectations. Initially, I thought I might get the amount of consideration that a page turn does in a half interesting book. Jessica, however, has never ceased to wrestle my preconceived notions to the ground and challenge them.

Her and I committed to a time of prayer before we began any sort of relationship. It was not long until the both of us, sensing conviction from the Spirit, began a relationship. This was the summer of 2001. We experienced some not so ideal times on two occasions where we had what I shall call "relational hiccups." They were mainly due to my arrogance (having just graduated Bible college I was the personification of 1 Cor. 8:1-3, but praise be to God's grace, I am being changed more into the image of Jesus now). By God's grace we were rid of the hiccups by July 30th 2003 - the night we were engaged. January 2, 2004 we wed. That day was FULL of "ideals."

Fast forward 7 years, celebrate your anniversary the night before your 5 year old goes into major surgery to have a football sized tumor removed, and you may as well tell "ideal" he doesn't even have to dress for the game - because he is getting NO PLAYING TIME.

Or is he. . .

Our conviction is that the goodness and sovereignty of God has never been in question - not since January 2, 2004 or even now. By the time we will have walked through this whole thing, I can promise you this, God WILL USE IT to make our marriage more ideal. Does that mean that Jessica and I have gotten along perfectly, no. Does that mean we have not shaken our fist at God in anger and confusion, no. Does that mean that we never cry and we always must appear as though we have everything together, again an emphatic NO! I have said it before and I will say it again: "faith is what you find when you face what you are facing."

Here is what I am finding about my wife: "Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 'Many women have done excellently, but you surpass them all.'" Prov. 31:28-29. Her passion for the Lord drew me. Even now, in anger and/or frustration she is still BEGGING for time alone with Jesus to make sense of it all.

There is no one I would rather walk through this with than you Jessica Marie Rumbold. One day our children will rise and call you blessed because you have clung, with transparency, to the supplier of our hope. It is not a contest it is a destination and our citizenship reveals it (see Philippians 3).

This post is meant to exalt Jesus Christ and the transforming work he has done in OUR relationship. Tell me (by clicking to add a comment), are you being encouraged and transformed by Jesus lately? If so, give all of us a taste with a sentence or two. I'd personally love to hear how God is shaping and changing many of you.

Trust vs. Tears: The Epic Battle and present struggle

In my previous post I alluded to writing about Jessica, Oliver, and Pierce. Begging your electronic forgiveness and knowing you will likely understand fully - we had an emergency trip to the hospital just after I had finished writing the other night. It seems the lessons and comfort the Lord provides are endless and therefore the stream of speak (although strokes of a keyboard) continues, if for nothing else, my own benefit. So, I promise to write of the three aforementioned this week, but for now I move to the latest experience in this saga that continually thickens.

We were told after the first inpatient treatment that if Jada ever has a fever over 100.4 she will be admitted. "Sure," we say and tuck that into our - 'that won't ever happen to us' pocket. Which, by the way, is being rapidly depleted these days. Sunday afternoon Jada's body began to feel a little hot and I kept a close eye on things. We began checking her fever - which only climbed. To simplify and save space, her fever spiked over the 100.4 threshold, I called the Dr., we were ordered to admit immediately. Jessica, at this point, had just woke from a nap, comes to the living room and sees my eyes... the story has already been told though no words had been spoken. "What's wrong?" she says. "Well, we need to pack some bags, Jada has to be readmitted tonight because she has a fever." Immediately Jessica begins to cry and Oliver - ever the sensitive man that he is - follows her into the bathroom and says, "it okay momma, it okay."

Adjectives are certainly anemic these days when it comes to adequate descriptions of emotions. I begin to pack bags and get things in order with the help of Diane Imig - who has been a rock star for us lately and of whom we are very thankful. The van is packed and Jada is still not even really affected - she just seems listless. Jessica, however, along with me have shed tears and there apparently is no "off" switch. I kneel with her in the bedroom and we pray one time before I hit the road.

The rest of the evening was pretty much as I expected. Jada was admitted, vitals were checked, an antibiotic was administered, blood was taken, conversations ensued with the staff, and bed time finally happened much after 10:30pm for Jada. That was Sunday... the 23rd.

By morning I was alerted to her low WHB (White Blood Count) which is effectively her ability to stave off infection - that being said, it is supposed to alarm us when there is a fever because of the potential effects. So, we wait.

Our son Oliver, who has not really adjusted all that well to a completely different environment, needs attention and daddy time. My wife, who is exhausted, needs sleep and just rest in general. Pierce... he's just too young to know what he wants yet, which at this point is a good thing. Monday afternoon I call my brother Alan up to sit with Jada so I can go to a quiet spot and have some time to read and pray before I head to Tremont for just a couple hours to spend time with the other members of my family.

Let me back up one step so that everyone knows just how Great the community of Faith has been around us. I am part of a group of super cool dudes known as the Peoria Area Leadership Community (aka PALC). If I divulge too many names besides the ring leader, Bill Allison, one might question the company I keep - but that is for another discussion altogether. We are a band of brothers who bear each others burdens and overall just try to discover what 1st century disciplemaking looks like in a 21st century world. PALC in general has had within itself, many ups and downs, but lately the trend is southward. So, we decided as a group to have concentrated prayer for the entire day Monday. This was the agenda I had when I called my brother Alan to cover for me - and normally I am not for agendas, but exceptions can be made.

So Alan shows up and I try to leave the room. Jada has already begun to sense that this was not a scheduled hospital visit and that we were not going home right away, so she was particularly clingy. I buttoned my coat, hit the door and there was a piercing scream with violent tears from Jada, "No, daddy, you cannot leave me here. Please." I tried coaxing her once with logic: "Jada, who has been with you every night? Who has been at every scan, blood test, and MRI? Who was there when you woke up from surgery? Who has carried you throughout the house when your legs were too weak?" She looks up at me with wet eyes and says, "you." "Sweetie, I will be back at bedtime, but I must go see Ollie, Pierce and Mom - and spend some time talking to Jesus." Clearly any sort of logic, whether linear or cyclical, has been void to this point in our journey so I have no idea what caused me to think it would work now. Jada again continues with the labored breathing and heavy tears when I approach the door. She calls out for me to pray with her if I want to leave.

Now, presenting itself, is an opportunity for trust - trust that God is who He says He is. Immediately I was challenged because I thought, "what good is that going to do right now?" If tears were a weapon, metaphorically speaking, Jada had just unwittingly opened up everything in her arsenal. As any parent will tell you a thousand times over, they would rather suffer themselves than to watch one of their children suffer, especially to the point of tears. Hold that thought in comparison to God's rescue plan of Christ and what the suffering he faced must have been like on his heart as a Father. Staggering.

Psalm 81:7 says, "In distress you called, and I delivered you..."

I was struck with conviction in that moment standing at the door wanting to leave but being called back by Jada. Do I really pray as though I have a hearing with the Father? I began to run through the catalogue in my mind of the times I prayed only what I could control. How rare it is for me pray outside of the context of my ability to provide. I looked at Jada, knelt, and prayed that God would calm her, strengthen her, and give her peace. All things COMPLETELY outside of my control, especially considering how hard Jada was crying. Nonetheless, I prayed. And you know what... God answers prayer. Jada immediately stopped crying, I left, had some sweet time of fellowship with Jesus, and was able to spend time with the rest of the family.

Trusting Ultimately / Struggling Trivially

"Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind and therefore there is hope.
The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end, they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 'The LORD is my portion,' says my soul, therefore I will hope in him." - Lamentations 3:19-24 -

We sat in clinic (St. Jude in Peoria) yesterday getting blood work and waiting on the nursing staff. We arrived at 9:30 and were dismissed around 1. Those are just going to be long days no matter how you slice it. Jada and I began to strike up a conversation, the details of which could be classified in the following statement: difference of perspective.

To be sure the LORD has guarded Jessica and I from SO MUCH these 4 weeks that our view of providence (in all its fullness) has expanded. That is until the other day when I went to the mailbox and we began receiving the bills. God has already got the ball rolling here and I seemed quite confident for some time regarding it...but that was before my eyes befell just the first of many bills that made my annual salary look like a pittance. "Okay, health care is expensive, I know, but God's got it under control." That was my perspective and really my heart. I know that ultimately this is my last concern, but now the questions of how had begun. This was the topic of Jada and my discussion while at clinic.

She was looking around the room and said to me... "Dad, are tumors expensive?" "Well, sweetie, actually they are not but the removal of them is for sure." "Hmmmmm" - she says. Then with absolute cuteness she furrows up her brow and says, "how much?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, how much has everything cost so far?" "Well honey, we have only received bills for a few things so I am not really sure." Her brain begins working overtime, complete with the listless glance into space to allow time for calculating. Finally, she says, "I think it had to cost almost 100 cents!"

I was taken back at the difference in perspective. From day one I have had complete trust that financially things will be fine. That is still my stand today - St. Jude is a GREAT organization...but as Chris Tomlin sings, "Our God is greater!" Still, I love how the difference in perspective allows for Jada to have a greater range of faith than her father. In Matt. 18:2-4 Jesus uses children as a benchmark for faith. He desires us the emulate the faith of a child. I believe it is because their range of faith differs so much from that of an adult. Allow one illustration and then I will wrap this up...

Yesterday one of the child life workers was making a necklace for Jada. She holds up smiley faces and frowny faces to put on the necklace - each depicting one day and how she felt that day. When asking Jada how many happy days and how many days did she hurt, Jada replied, "Miss Shelly, they are all happy days because of Jesus." So, while her 100 cent statement nails the "Ultimate" (or final purpose) end of things, her "happy because of Jesus" statement pins down the trivial side of living. An area of struggle for me. Ultimately Jessica and I are comfortable with what is going on and we TRUST God absolutely. Conversely though, I struggle at times with training my children, loving my wife, and being woke up for he 5th time in the night by a 2 year old (that last one is way too specific to be made up by the way).

Faith, then, is not so much what you are facing. It is what you find when you face what you are facing. Have you ever noticed that life for children is nearly always a perpetual discovery? Something is always amazing them. I submit that if you seek for God ultimately, with humility (see Lamentations 3:20), you will be amazed every morning at how he condescends into your trivial. All of this is to provide us with the Good that comes from our "gall" (bitter experiences) as the author of Lamentations puts it.

PREVIEW: In all the craziness surrounding Jada there is lost this picture that we are not defined by Jada nor her illness. We are first and foremost children of the living God. So, for the next three posts I am going to dedicate my writing to the other three people in my life that round out the Rumbold family. First, I will dedicate an entire post to my wife who has strength and beauty I never would have guessed seven years ago existed. Then a post for Oliver (aka. the Goober) which will likely include some story about him and underwear. Finally, a post about Pierce who God has already used to break through the darkness of this time for Jessica and I.

Compassion's deficit

Now, I will not say with utter certainty - the way that one can say, "water is wet, sky is blue, and grass is green," - that I know the ins and outs of compassion. However, what God has done these past few weeks may be likened to the eye exam; an object is purposefully blurry for a time and the optometrist does a little twisting here and a little tweaking there...BOOM, the object in view becomes ever so clear.

And so it is with compassion. There are a number of things one can read in the Bible and not make sense of them - the author of Deuteronomy makes it clear that the secret things belong to God. However, there are things that are veiled or kept from our understanding, that is, until our hearts are ready to actively receive a truth or principle previously ignored or misunderstood.

Tonight marked the end of Jada's radiation treatment regimen. This is TREMENDOUS news and cannot be overstated on paper or in our hearts. I wrote a few nights ago of the difficulty it is to watch that machine administer radiation to such a young beautiful girl. So, you will forgive me if I get a little excited while searching for what I already know will be totally inept adjectives to describe the experience. Jada always dresses as cute as she can for this experience. Nice boots, cute top and just the right leggings. Her top by her own admission must not be too short because, in her words, "Dad, that would just be unappropriate." - I love it. The treatment is brief - never lasting (from start to finish) for more than 10 minutes.

The last treatment is finished and I tell her I have a surprise. She consents with obvious veiled excitement (you know how children that age think they can hide something all the while their face is telling a story?). We leave the radiation room walking and she pauses to say, "Ride please." We have developed this system where she sits with her back against my chest and holds my thumbs much like a joystick or video game controller. This way I can walk and she can choose the direction. Once in the van I ask her to close her eyes and wait till I say so. She actually waited which came as a bit of a surprise if you know Jada.

The van parked in the Baskin Robbins on Knoxville in Peoria and we were the only customers. With sheer delight she wanders around looking at all the flavors and finally places an order...so do I and we just sit down. Now, the point of the whole post hinges on this next paragraph so pay close attention because for me the experience was like taking a funnel and tapping directly to my heart - pouring pure, deep, rich and freeing truth STRAIGHT IN!

I look across the table and pose what I think is a fair question: "Jada, you have been through lot these last couple weeks. Do you think God might be teaching you anything through it all?" Jada looks me square in the eye and says with a should shrug, "uh, not really." "C'mon" I say, "nothing?" She scrunches up her brow and says, "Oh, I know. He's been teaching me to care more for other people. Dad, today when Goober was crying about his stomach I should not have said that I had surgery and its harder for me. Because that is selfish and thinking only of me."

In Mark 10 the story is told of a Rich Young man who asked Jesus what he must do to be saved. Jesus knew that the conversation would eventually end in the young man's rejection of him. Verse 21 (CLICK HERE to read the passage) has been one of those verses I have always had a hard time grasping. It says, "And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him..." (the rest of the verse explains that Jesus indeed answered his question) When was the last time you KNEW how someone would respond, yet you loved them regardless? Suffering like Jesus means that your deficit, as it were, pertains to your lack of vision for your own suffering. It does not mean a total disregard (read the account of Jesus and Gethsemane to see how Jesus still considered his own suffering). As I fired up the van to drive home I thought how easy it is- in a situation like ours to slap on the blinders like a horse and only think of we have been going through. Christ knew what he was about to suffer yet his heart LOVED even those who were his enemies.

So, compassion's deficit (rather a compassionate person) is simply its inability...scratch that... unwillingness, to focus solely on their imminent, present, or historical suffering. What a lesson from a 5 yr old. I have already cried at the beauty of God's shaping her heart in all this.

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).

Darkened Counsel

Job 38:2 "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?"

Jess and I cannot and will not presume to fully know or explain God's grand scheme in all this. Its far too lofty for us to attain. Its beyond the scope of our finite logic. We resolve to not even step up to the plate, as it were, and take a swing. God's job is solely His, He's been doing it for years with great success - I am sure my suggestions ARE NOT some revelatory masterpiece that He's been fishing for since time began.

So, another day goes by and Jess and I take another deep breath and and try to see this from God's perspective. However, as any parent will likely tell you, when you put a few children in the same room and eavesdrop what you find may surprise you. Tonight, my parents (who are awesome by the way) came to lend a hand and just provide some encouragement. Jessica had brought Pierce upstairs and she handed him to my mom so she could get some things done (which is new for Jess - usually she's a soap opera and bon-bon girl).

Promptly after receiving him Oliver ran over and just did what Ollie does best - made a grunt of some kind, smiled and went back to playing basketball. Jada, however, said something that shall serve s the lesson for all of us tonight.

My mom asked if Jada wanted to hold Pierce and Jada immediately tells her, "grandma, you must be careful of his biblical cord (his umbilical cord is somewhat irritated right now)." My, father says, "Biblical cord?, what's that?" In plain, Jada only fashion, she says, "the Biblical cord is where he gets his life inside momma."

So, while we will not "darken the counsel of the almighty" by speaking of that which we know not - we may certainly stand on the promises found in the sweet pages of Scripture. The picture created in 1 Cor. 5:17 is that we are a new creation and Paul continues the metaphor later in Colossians by describing life "in Christ."

As our sweet Pierce was supplied life just a few short day ago by his "biblical cord" so Jess and I say to all - "Jesus is our breath of life - and His promises in the Bible our sure foundation."

(ps. notice my parents modeling this really strange idea Jesus had of disciplemaking, "relationships primarily through the modes of service and presence").

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welcome home - again -

There is no way that one wakes up ready to handle what I can only term, "the onslaught of a new life." This new life includes things you never wanted to see or experience. However difficult it is though, Jess and I are always realizing this one thing - It is God's nature to bless.

A summary of today: Jada had chemo at 6:15am and was done before 7. She was given 8 hours of fluids before we could leave the hospital. She ate sparingly while I tried to catch up on some reading and writing (I have been keeping a detailed record of the GOODNESS of God in all this, as well as medical notes). We were picked up around 3:30 to come home.

What greets us as we arrive is the "Welcome Home" sign made by some very special friends, the Endress family (Tom, thanks for the metal reinforcement so they can easily be reused) - we have 8 more times we can read this sign after returning from the hospital over the next 7 months. I sat down with my computer tonight and asked Jessica for her thoughts or if there was anything she wanted to add to the blog tonight.

Jessica's words: "I guess I would describe this whole day as a continual blessing." "Really," I say - "why would you say that?" "A breast pump was bought and delivered for us (ours broke - not like I'm using it, but we are a team you know), we have not paid a dime for groceries in over a week, Maria Imig hung out for a few hours just serving me, and all of us are under the same roof."

Sure the hard times continue. Oliver has a fever and just got done vomiting yesterday, Pierce is adjusting himself to the schedule he's on (and doing quite well mind you), and Jada began vomiting tonight as a result of her chemotherapy. Because Jada had chemo today, I had to wear special gloves, disinfect, and take extra time cleaning everything really well...just after we heard her vomit I turned to Jess in the kitchen and said, "welcome to the next 7 months." But even now, as I type this I look at a painting Jessica did hanging over our mantle in the basement: it reads, "God has done great things for us and we are filled with Joy." Psalm 126:3.

I really wish I had time to list all the blessings we have been showered with, but the coolest thing by far Jess and I are sensing is the power and presence of the Spirit working in the lives of the Local Church (realize that our families are a given. I have learned and grown deeper with each sibling as this trial intensifies).

Dig deep now, click the comment button below this post and tell us what God has done for you that fills you with Joy... Jess and I wait eagerly.

no little disturbance

²³About that time there arose no little disturbance concerning the Way.

Jada lies in her bed just 8 feet away from me - tossing and turning while at the same time gently moaning with abdominal pain; which I am told is a normal side effect for the chemo. There are few things more agonizing as a father than to watch your daughter do relatively well all day just to listen to her writhing in pain at night. It is, mind numbing and heart wrenching. Add to this that I met with a specialist today about wigs (for Jada's impending hair loss), gathered home health supplies for when we are discharged tomorrow, and learned that I have to personally administer 6 shots to Jada over the course of the next 6 days.

Jessica calls me after I learn of the shots (we had previously been told that Jada would not need to have any more "pokies,") and tells me she's having a hard morning but is sending Ollie over to see Jada and I. Ollie arrives and I go to grab him out of my aunt's van and I literally catch his vomit in my hands...an hour later he is home and has a fever of 102. Needless to say, when it rains it pours.

Now, if this were the end - it would be both sad and self-centered. However, I had a conversation on the phone tonight with someone who, after we were done and I had time to think about it, showed me a whole lot about God's process of refinement.

Everyone's hurting, right. I mean, look around you - there are divorces, children walking away from the Lord, job loss, broken family relationships and the list goes on. What Jess and I continue to discover in this journey is that God uses many things to get our attention - and until the cross-airs of my spiritual gaze are squared on Him I will continue to simply STARE down my issues and lament my existence. "Oh God, why me? Why did you have this lot fall on me? My life has been hard for too long."

Through it all my question is this: what is my intent in voicing MY LAMENT? A pat on the back and an anonymous donation (just an example - all monies will gladly be accepted) to help with the stress? The conversation tonight, and Acts 19:23 (above) have laid a heavy message on my heart that has been just working me over all evening - here's a peek...

Do we really believe we are part of THE WAY? I read all of chapter 19 in Acts and I challenge you to do the same. What you will find may challenge you. Because the believers lived their lives in communal harmony Demetrius (the silversmith) was legitimately scared that his trade was as good as gone. Have you ever considered the ramifications? The belief of the early church caused a CULTURE SHIFT. Entire trades were at risk of being uprooted in the town of Ephesus - and make no mistake - that kind of thing messes with the culture of a community.

If we suffer gloriously for Christ, and realize mortality matters if for nothing else but the immortality of God then maybe there would be "NO LITTLE DISTURBANCE IN THE PEORIA AREA CONCERNING THE WAY." The issue is not whether what I am going through is harder than what you have on your plate. For the constant throughout all human history is never the mode of human suffering. The CONSTANT is the GLORY OF CHRIST!

Ideally, folks would look at ALL of us and say, "he has a sick daughter, he just lost his job, she just got divorced, her car just broke down, he is buried in debt but THEY ALL have Jesus!!!

. . . 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!"

Sometimes God answers with severity.

This afternoon I was sitting in the room with Jada while she slept - just listening to the rhythm of her breathing while praying about some of the decisions that face us.

As you may or may not know (depending on how often you check the blog) Jess and I finally named baby x . . . Pierce Anakin Rumbold. From the birth yesterday Jada and I went for testing which initially revealed Clear Cell Sarcoma of the Kidney - stage 1. I have been praying (along with Jess) about whether to forgo the radiation portion of the treatment in favor of reducing the overall toxicity to Jada's body and minimizing the impact on her ability to reproduce in the future. Some weighty issues to be sure up for consideration for a person of any age, but especially for a 5 yr old.

That being said, I began to contemplate God's timing and what He is trying to tell Jess and I. Just then another Dr. walked in...and honestly I don't remember his name (we have meet LOTS of people recently), but he asked if I had any questions. When I told him the gist of Jess and my thoughts on radiation he opened up a bit about how he has been praying for Jess, Jada, and I ever since this whole ordeal began. We prayed together and specifically we aimed at wisdom in handling the radiation. It was a sweet time of Christian fellowship in the truest sense (our bond truly was/is Christ).

Only 30 minutes later our oncologist shows up and says, "I have the full pathology in hand (up to this point he had initial results and not the printed full copy). The findings change two things," he said. "One, we can no longer say that Jada has stage one cancer. Because the tumor has punctured the renal cavity it has to be considered stage two." I was taken back, not sure how to process or what to feel - but that sensation is not new to us. Dr. Al continued, "this means that we no longer can drop the radiation as a variation in treatment - it IS the standard of treatment to administer the radiation." Ummm, ok, I see.

I returned to the room smiling at the grace of the Lord Jesus. Not 40 minutes previous I had prayed for wisdom that was not mine to help us make the decision. God openly reveals to us that our daughter's condition is slightly more serious and will require the radiation. Done. The decision is made thanks to God.

In the book of Job we discover that Job's friends really are not all that helpful. They had a faulty belief in what we would call the "retribution principle." The meaning is simply that they thought good get good from God, and bad get bad from God. Job must have done something wrong. So its to that end that all of their statements and intellect aim. Elihu, the youngest of Job's friends actually has a decent nugget to contribute to the discussion and its been on my heart all day and now that I am actually putting some stuff in writing, I see why.

In Job 32:7-8 it says," ⁷I said, 'Let days speak,and many years teach wisdom.'⁸But it is the spirit in man, the breath of the Almighty, that makes him understand." Elihu is making the case that experienced and learned men should speak first - then let the younger go next. I have been seeking the opinions of the medical community without truly consulting God. Once I dropped this faulty logic and picked up the "breath of the Almighty" God gave understanding sooner than expected. Now, the problem in this case is that the answer is not a nice piece of triple layer chocolate cake with a glass of milk to wash it down - its severe. Does His severity nullify His love and paternal care? Not at all. The Lord disciplines those He loves... He MUST love Jess and I (and Jada, Ollie, and Pierce) an awful lot.

And you shall call his name...

Well, "nothing." That is what I continue to tell people as Jess and I revel in the blessing of a very amazing birth.

To be sure this little stretch of our lives has been hard but not void of blessing or grace. This morning was most poignant. We had prayed that the baby would come quickly when he came. The Lord saw fit to start labor at 4:30 am and have a child born to us by 6:23.

There are many things, to be sure, that I could share and desire to do so. But here is not the forum for that information. All anyone need know is that the birth was FAST, as painless as birth can be, and Jessica is doing VERY well.
He was 8lb 12oz. and 20.25inches long.

The irony here is that we were at home to deliver and I left less than 2 hours later to take Jada to St. Jude's for testing. Jada got to see her nameless baby brother and hold him before being readmitted once again (see yesterday's post: "Home was nice...But Jesus is Calling).

God's goodness continues to flow in two primary ways: one, Jada had a bone scan and brain MRI to check for bone cancer and brain cancer and both tests came back negative (AMAZING!). They have officially diagnosed Jada with a VERY RARE form of cancer called, "clear cell sarcoma of the kidney."

Today I held a baby, held the hand of my daughter through MRIs and CT scan's, and radiation simulations. After that I had the chance to meet with Dr. Al (our lead oncologist) - who delivered the results and walked me through all the side effects of treatment. Staggering!!! Jess and I will make final decisions on treatment tomorrow with chemotherapy and radiation likely to start Thursday. This means that while I love my little guy and my wife - I must be at the hospital with our firstborn during these VERY difficult days ahead. I am sleeping on a couch tonight listening to her breath and there is not a sweeter noise in all the earth.

So, if you are keeping track, that would effectively be both ends of the spectrum that Jess and I had the chance to walk through as a couple. God is good to give us this experience so we can comfort others and exalt the name of Christ.

Home was nice, but Christ is calling

Let me be perfectly honest with you, I had high hopes that today would be uneventful. However, we do not serve a sovereign God who likes uneventful and predictable. And, as much as it may hurt to say this, our day was about as eventful as it can be.

We jetted out of the house to the St. Jude clinic today to get Jada's central line (chemo thing on her chest) cleaned and dressed. When we got there Dr. Al (our oncologist) brought in some paperwork with a foreboding look. He admitted that what he thought was a wilm's tumor (the most common form of kidney cancer in children with 400-500 cases a year) was in fact CLEAR CELL SARCOMA (very rare cancer with only 20 cases a year)! Jess and I just held hands and cried. There really are no words at that point. Just deep, deep pain.

So, back to the hospital we go tomorrow. Jada will have a bone scan and a brain MRI to determine whether the cancer has spread to her brain or bones. The frustrating thing is that at this point one of the tests means that Jess will cannot be near Jada for 24 hours (there is a radioactive dye that she has to be injected with before the scan).

The "events" kept coming. We are confronted with: admitting to the hospital, two scans, results on Wednesday, and Thursday is the day chemotherapy will begin. I like uneventful days - because they are predictable. Eventful is nice, if your are into that "extreme faith in God" sort of thing. Which, because of Jesus, Jess and I are. I will not lie - right now is a deeply disturbing time. Questions are flying and sadness runs high. But, that does not mean we cannot rejoice in this suffering or see the Smile of God in it.

At the end of the day this is what we know, our citizenship is in heaven. And we EAGERLY await a savior from there. But in this present life we have been promised trial, difficulty and suffering. Shall we bear up under it in the NAME OF JESUS? You bet we will. Right now we are shaking our firsts at God: frustrated, hurting, and ultimately just confused. But, here is the nugget that has been just disciplining me all day... God is our strength, Jesus our advocate, and the Spirit our ever-present intercessor. This is true in theory (aka when life is "all good") and it is also true when it stinks to live it (aka when everything is difficult, even the next breath).

Blessed be the LORD

Blessed be the LORD... this is the way the Psalmist begins the 21st verse of the 31st Psalm. Not unlike many other Psalms where the writer is extolling some great virtue of the LORD by exclaiming that HE is to be praised, but its what follows that makes all the difference for Jessica and I.

On December 30th our daughter was told she has kidney cancer in the form of a wilm's tumor. While the pathology (the testing to determine the correct diagnosis) is still being done on Jada's football sized tumor she has been released from the hospital and is sound asleep about 12 feet from me right now in her own bed.

The rest of verse 21 says, "for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me when I was in a besieged city." Thursday the 30th of December certainly felt like Jess and I were in a "besieged" city with no escape. The choke hold of death was around our hearts and it was squeezing tears out of our now weary eyes. However, in just a few days we have seen marvelous improvement in our daughter and it has been the cause for MUCH rejoicing.

In fact, the day after her surgery she whispered to me that she missed church and wanted to go back soon. I put that little thought in my "wouldn't that be nice but fat chance" pocket. But the Lord saw fit to humble me once again. Amazing!

Above you will see pictures of the last 24hours with her. My brothers offered to spend the night in the hospital so Jess and I might get some sleep debt repaid before baby #3 arrives. Then Jada makes silly faces with her mom and Jess. Finally, you see Jess and I dressed and ready to leave the hospital.

In short, there has been the blessing and grace of the Lord all over this. Tonight Jess and I lay in bed with Jada and watched a movie while just cuddling (Oliver returns to us tomorrow in case you're wondering). She is walking proof of many things, but one thing in particular that I urge you to consider. Prayer IS the answer! I have never been so deep in prayer as I have been this past 8 days - and neither have many who have interceded on her behalf.

I had nights when I could not sleep and I would just stare out the window, talking (literally praying) to the Lord. Spilling my thoughts onto paper has become more intense (I have always been a journaler), and making my emotions subject to the Lordship of Christ is also normal. God has amazed us so much during this that I am content to look at something huge without fear, worry or anxiety - because those all involve myself managing the situation. Not sure if you have ever tried the, "I'll be God today" thing...but I can tell you from experience you will get to the end of this sentence faster than you will actually have peace of mind and a comforted spirit.

Christ RULES and Blessed be the LORD because of it. He never ceased to rule just because life got hard for me. His ruling was just manifest in my tiny little mind.

buckle up

Trenton is a child down the hall who is 8yrs old. We have come to know him as he and Jada will cart their I.V. units behind them down the halls gaining strength (not so much speed) each day. Trenton has a failing liver and just two days ago was rushed into emergency surgery for an exploded gal bladder. Each night his mother and father take shifts staying in the hospital as they have two other children, one of them is Trenton's twin. They are going on 4 weeks and little improvement has happened.

Here is what Jess and I know as are result of what we have experienced so far: unexpected tragedy is unrelenting and exhausting...just ask Trenton. We are only one week and a day into our experience of it and I can say with utter certainty that 18-20 hours of sleep over 8 days is not sufficient for anyone.

But clearly God has used this to show us something and have the building of our faith bless others - but before that happens He must still teach us some very important lessons. The lesson that Jess and I have learned (as if there were only one) so far is this: we are not the only ones going through something difficult, it just feels like it.

Trenton was walking to the end of the hall to meet me, he introduced himself and talked of his pain as though it was commonplace. Immediately my elder sister (Sheri Nafziger) taught me a wonderful lesson... "Its not about you Doug." For when Trenton walked up to me I was still wiping tears from my eyes and thinking of how I needed sleep to cope. My sister, standing next to me immediately put her hand on his head asked him his name and a few details. He obliged and instantly Sheri put her arm around him and said, "do you mind if I pray for you?" "Sure...GO ahead." was the response and she did. In those brief seconds I realized, others have it far worse, and beyond that some folks don't even have the hope of Jesus Christ living in them.

Trial without Christ can equate to a number of different adjectives. Among them are: bitterness, frustration, faithlessness, anger, fear, anxiety, loss of control, etc. Imagine facing a great trial without Christian community to support you and really point your often self-centered mind to Christ. It would be devastating! Jess and my hope is in Christ, not in medicine, or St. Jude's (while we are unbelievably thankful for any and all help we have received). Ultimately it is Jesus who heals and even percentages or statistics bow to that authority.

Oh, by the way, the Lord has seen fit to restore enough health to Jada that she will be sleeping in her own bed on Saturday January the 8th...that is tomorrow! Less than a week after MAJOR surgery she is literally a walking testimony of the grace and mercy of our loving Father.

While we still do not have pathology (the test results which will tells us the next step), the Dr. feels confident that Jada's recovery from surgery can and should happen at home. We are scheduled to return to St. Jude Clinic on Monday to meet with the Dr. and possibly get the pathology. Continue to pray...

Home...closer than you think

The night could not even be remotely synonymous with the term rest, but that is just fine with us. I awoke at the hospital (now day 7) after having slept a total of about 2 or so hours. The Dr. had a constant fluid drip going for Jada to test her only remaining kidney - I am exhausted but can exclaim with confidence that it works well.
When you cannot go home, there are a few things that the LORD provides that let one understand that Home can easily come to them. It has been my habit now for a little while to simply wait until Jada falls asleep, post some pictures on facebook, journal, pray and read. Last night was no exception.
My door had a knock and what I found outside reduced me (and later Jessica) to tears. Graciously, my brother Ed and his daughter Jaylin had flown home from Slovakia. Jada woke at just the right time and upon seeing her cousin (whom she has not seen for a year) she blinked hard twice and a faint smile followed. AMAZING! God cannot put more of a personal touch on his blessing and goodness to us, right?
This morning we awoke to some good news (rather Jada awoke to some good news). "You can have some jello." After having surgery she has basically fasted since Sunday at midnight. She ate like I have seldom seen and my heart leapt with joy.
The day drug on and though Jada would get out of her bed for long stints and go for walks, she complains of significant abdominal pain and cries with each step - it seems healing (both physical and spiritual) is not without its pain.
However strong morphine was, the love of God and the bond of family is stronger. For tonight as the evening drew to a close my sister Jen (the one with a million children who lives in Colorado and is married to fireman Jon) walks in with a couple of her children (Kierra and Jedidiah). Again, I stand in awe of how God has stamped his personal touch on all of these blessings and our hearts continue to be encouraged despite the difficulty of this affliction - and what will likely be a treacherous road ahead.
Romans 6:13 says, "¹³Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness." I encourage you to look at that part, "...have been brought from death to life..." When someone ransoms their life for yours you would do ANYTHING for them. The ransom Christ paid for us demands UTTER generosity and humility on our parts, to do less is to tread light and arrogantly on the gift of God.
The offering of ourselves, especially our presence relationally, reflects our heart for the master. In short, Jess and I have some really godly family ALL AROUND us.

New Jammies and a Power Walk

Days are long and painful, but good. Jessica and I are continually searching for things to be thankful for in the midst of this ordeal. They are not hard to find.

Here's one: slowly the staff are getting Jada to be sitting up. That was yesterday. Then this morning at 4:45 they began the task of prepping her for her epidural to be taken out (thus getting rid of numbness and severe pain control). They extracted the epidural and the catheter at the same time. Jada immediately said she had to go to the restroom.

The nurses came, put a bedpan at the end of the bed and scooted Jada to the edge - pointing to the bedpan, they said, "ready to go potty?" Jada took one look at it and said, "I'm not going in that! I want the big potty!" AMAZING - and really how Good has God been during this time?

That said, Jada finished her trip by returning to her bed, walking gingerly and complaining of stomach pain. The nurse told her we were going to continue walking out of the room to the nurse's station. Jada flatly refused, even with tears, and stated emphatically, "my outfit is ugly" (she was in yellow hospital scrubs). The nurse asked if she had new Jammies if she'd take a walk. Jada agreed.

Two hours later, Jammies arrived (thank you Rachel Rumbold and Sonya Hillrich). Jada promptly emptied her bladder and walked to the nurse's station (pictured above). So, moral? Buy Jada Jammies and she'll walk with you. Or maybe its something a little deeper...

Psalm 34:4 says, "I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears."
Jada literally grabbed my hand and said, "Daddy, I am scared, my belly hurts and I cannot walk." I whispered in her ear, "Jada, Jesus is your strength (the constant refrain from all who whisper in to her sweet ear)." SHE WALKED! What faithfulness our creator has in his heart for those who seek him.

The blessing of Affliction

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, "its 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 Dr.s 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.

Jess and I pray with her, assure her of the Lord's strength in her, and head off to the waiting room. In the next 4.5 hours we worshiped, prayed, cried, read the Word, and kissed doubt, fear and worry goodbye. God's peace enveloped us as we waited to meet with the surgeon.

"Everything went well" was the report - and now we wait for further results of testing (aka, the pathology of the tumor). But the neat part is what follows: Jada woke from surgery and motioned for me to come near again. This time what she whispered warmed my heart further, "I (pant pant pant), LOVE (pant pant), you." Those words made all the tears and all the prayer worth it. But that is not where God desires that it end.

This morning as I sat reading my Bible, and praying while Jada lay asleep and before the onslaught of support (aka - Christian community) came - I had a vision of hope for my daughter (and for that matter, my family).

In Acts 5 the apostles were called into the council and beaten and told not to speak the name of Jesus. I have a vision for my family that says essentially this, "thank you Jesus, that you have counted us worthy of suffering." For it is too easy in times like ours to raise both of hands in anger at God for what appears to be an injustice. But, if we are not careful, having both fists clenched toward the heavens teaches us a one-sided view of suffering and trial. That view, sadly, is all about me (or in this case, Jada). We are encouraged in the Bible to express our anger or frustration with God (clenched fist), but let us not forget to keep the other hand open to receive the blessing from the affliction.

If the Gospel was delivered with great pain to the Lord Jesus (difficult emotionally, and spiritually - not to mention physically) how am I (or Jess, Jada, and Oliver) to expect that God would deliver the truth and depth of the Gospel love he has for me without some level of affliction? The answer: we are not to expect anything less!

In Hebrews 2:10 it says that Christ was made perfect through suffering. You and I are made to resemble Christ MORE as we suffer. Its just not our chosen vehicle.