A lesson in the art of waiting.

We are waiting.
I don't like that word much right now.
When all the beautifully well meaning people ask me:
"How are you going? What is happening??"
I want to reply with gusto:
"We are fighting.. we are in treatment.."

Instead, my reply is:
"We are waiting...."
Waiting for a phone call to say the treatment is approved, now let's annihilate those life sucking tumors.
Waiting for the battle to start.
Waiting for the distance between our little family to stretch out between us.

I'm not saying I want what the end of waiting will bring us.
I'm not eager to have my husband get on a plane and fly away from us.
I'm not excited about the second stage of treatment.

But when the waiting is done, the fight resumes.
I know that this week has been tough on Sheldon. He had been busily leaving long 'to do'  lists for his staff at work. He has been meeting with doctors and bankers, making sure that every eventuality has a covered base.
But niggling in the back of his mind is the thought that each moment that we are WAITING is a moment where the cancer is not under all guns drawn attack.

I wrote a song a lifetime ago. It said:
"Waiting for a perfect life
Seems to take so long...
Until my waiting
Anticipating
Becomes my willingness
To draw closer
Closer to the place
Where I wait on You."

So my words have circled back to chomp uncomfortably on my backside.
Yes... We are waiting.
Yes... I would prefer to be fighting rather than waiting.

But I have today.
We have today.
And I get to choose to be frustrated in the wait or satisfied in the knowledge that waiting is not long term.
It's not.
Someday soon we will get that call and he will board that plane. All too soon he will start that new drug. Before we know it we will be knee deep in the battle.

So maybe waiting is the gift in all of this. Maybe it's the time we need.
Time to sit at the beach on a Saturday morning and watch our boys jumping waves.
Time to catch up on episodes of Dr.Who that, strangely, neither of us have seen before.
Time to prepare ourselves for whatever it is that is before us.

Maybe it is the act of waiting that calms the heart and sharpens the mind.

Maybe, instead of waiting FOR something to happen, I should wait ON the One who provides me strength and refuge.

"They that WAIT UPON the Lord will get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles..." (Isaiah 40)

I'm mistaken in my thinking that in waiting I am powerless and nothing is happening.

In those moments of the wait I get a chance to take stock of what has been, what is now and what comes before.

I get to stand still at the crossroads, for that is where waiting always happens- at a crossroads of what was and what will be.

So, if you are waiting for something to happen. If you are at a crossroads of what was and what will be, can I encourage you to join me in welcoming the wait.
Appreciating what the wait is allowing you.
Taking the stillness of the wait and finding a moment of refreshing and renewing.
Let waiting become a willingness to draw closer to the One who renews and refreshes.

And when the wait is over we will fight.

Hello... Again.

We've been somewhere near here before.
Close to this juncture..
Nearby this path of 'what-ifs' and 'why, oh why'..
It all looks familiar and yet it's heartbreaking in the new aspects we are facing.

Yes..it's been a while since I wrote to you all.
I was quiet for a while. Busy enjoying normality...
And now- well, I guess this is hello again.

Here's what's been happening in my little world:
* we fought hard when the cancer diagnosis was first given and we saw great success for 12 months of the phase 1 chemo treatment.
* we moved north to be around the support force that is our families.
* we both got amazing jobs. We love our jobs
* we enjoyed the serenity of our little house...

And in the days and weeks and months that slid by, I relaxed.
I found myself wondering what I had been worried about when diagnosis and prognosis and treatment were all new words.
After all... Things had been bad and scary at the start, but surely those days were a thing of the past.. right????!!! Surely my family had experienced enough of a rough time.

And then my world rocked...no, shattered into a gazillion pieces on Easter Sunday. My strong, courageous, noisy, brilliant, generous mum went. Just like that. She was here, and then she went. Just one breath. That's the difference between being here and being gone.
We grieved and I honestly didn't know what I would do without my go-to person.

And I thought.... Ok, now I can't be stretched anymore.
We've dealt with the cancer diagnosis and those hellish early days.
We've transplanted our lives...
We've said goodbye to mum....
Enough already.

Sheldon got on a plane this week. He flew into Sydney to have the checkup. The last time he had been there, it was glowing good news. Cancer shrinking. Cancer being beaten back. Time was ours, stretching out in front of us. It was a great checkup.

That was then.

On Wednesday afternoon, at 3:02pm, I heard his voice on the other end of the line. It wavered and cracked wide open as the words I desperately didn't want to hear were said... "Babe... It's not good. Not good at all.."

And everything stopped.
The world actually stopped spinning.
Just for a second.
That second.

This is now.

So.... Here we are. At the starting line of a path called "phase 2"..."plan B"....
Plan B is a new type of chemo.
The word on the street is that it's not a walk in the park... It's a tougher treatment than what we've known. We fervently hope that Sheldon responds well.
Because fighting this is a given.
It's not an option to NOT go down this path.
Their names are Krystopher, Matthew and Lukas.

Hello again.
I have to say- I didn't miss talking to you all while I was busy living our life .

I write this so you know.
So you can keep up to date
So you can know what to close your eyes and whisper a prayer about...

I write this so it doesn't drown me... Swamp me...
Wring me out....

Writing helps me sort my head out.
So thanks for reading this... This sorting room for my thoughts and my questions and my ups and my downs.

Tomorrow we are taking the boys to search for platypus, to have a picnic in the mountains and make some memories.

That's a happy day.