Walking in Faith

Yesterday, as the sun slowly rose to shed its light, a newspaper lay at the end of the driveway, untouched. Minutes ticked away as dew began to form on the outside of the paper. The air was still and motionless without disruption. There was no sound of a screen-door closing, or the soft pattering of Livestrong sneakers making their way across the blacktop. Simply silence. Finally, a car emerged from the garage and stopped at the end of the driveway. The door opened up and a hand reached out to pick-up the damp paper. It is a change from the normal routine of the household; an indication that change is occurring.
The past week has slowly seen Pop having less and less energy. He hasn't said anything to insinuate that he is feeling worse, but it can been seen in his routine. Mornings have been tough for him to get out of bed, and the nausea has had a tightening grip. His activities are often short-lived, and the visits to the couch are more frequent and for longer stretches. He is often found lying on the couch, staring out the window, lost in thought. It is difficult to imagine the physical fight that he is waging so courageously, but sometimes I forget the mental battle that he silently endures too. On rare occasions we are reminded of it as we talk about Emma getting older, and Pop's eyes grow misty. As strong as he is, Pop's heart has a window to the world through his eyes. Those same eyes have grown tired this past week. As strong waves of nausea washed over him, he has been unable to eat or drink much. This has sapped much of the precious energy that Pop did have. To compound the situation, a strange pain has set into his right leg. Of course this was only discovered when Mom caught him in an episode of extreme pain. Not to any family members surprise, Pop has been dealing with this pain for a while. He simply endured the discomfort and forged ahead.
With his drop in health, we met with the oncologist yesterday. Sitting in the room, the doctor took a deep breath, "We're in uncharted water with you Ken. You've done great with what we have put you through, but you need to help me know how you feel. I want this to be something that we're in together." Mom gladly chimed-in that he has not done well this past week. She divulged the pain in his leg, the increase in nausea, and overall lack of energy. Pop sat-by rather disgusted that he had to admit that it was all true. With all the information, the doctor decided to stop chemotherapy for the next two weeks. "Let's see what effect the break gives you, and we can better determine how to move forward," he concluded. The difficultly in Pop's situation is the determination of where the symptoms are coming from. Are they an accumulation of the chemotherapy? Or, are they indicates of the cancer growing in aggression? The latter would be a hard pill to swallow. To help determine potential sources of the pain in Pop's leg, he has been scheduled for x-rays and a full body bone scan this week.
With the uncertainty high, we come with honest hearts before Christ. An hour of worrying will not add a single minute to anyone's life, so we lay down the burdens of this world at His feet. We pray for increased strength, energy, hope, and guidance. We also say thanks for family, friends, and neighbors. We choose to walk by faith, and to trust in the One who has proven ever loving.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEK071gUHHg