I’m going to continue to live
Good morning, Everyone.
It's now been a few days since I went to the ER and finally had to admit the pain I was experiencing was more than I could push through and that over-the-counter medications were no longer enough. The CT scan performed that morning confirmed what my body had already been telling me: the disease is progressing.
In many ways, this was a turning point.
For the first time, I had to acknowledge that this season has changed. I have always avoided prescription pain medication whenever possible, but I also realized something important. Pain management isn't simply about reducing suffering. It's about protecting the things that matter—the things that make me who I am for as long as I am able. Walking Wrightsville Beach in the morning. Heading to Florida over the weekend to work with some of my favorite people at Concilium. Spending time with people I love here in Wilmington. Enjoying the gifts God continues to place in front of me each day.
That realization has been freeing.
Over the last few days, I've been asking the Lord one simple question: "Father, what does faithfulness look like with the time I have?"
I don't know how many days lie ahead. None of us really do. But I know this: today is a gift.
So I'm going to keep writing. I'm preparing my first devotional, Fear Is Not My Future, for publication. I'm continuing work on the second book in the series. I'm making plans for August, September and even Christmas because I would rather prepare with hope than wait with fear. I'll continue to travel as I am able. I'll keep showing up at Wrightsville Beach each morning for as long as my body allows.
I'm going to continue to live.
On the home page of my website are these words: "I do not know what the days ahead will bring, but I am determined to live them with as much grace and enthusiasm as possible."
I needed those words when I wrote them in 2023. I need them even more today.
They remind me of the heart posture I chose when my first recurrence was diagnosed, and they continue to call me back to that same place of trust. I'm also understanding more fully, day by day, that faithfulness is not measured by how long we live. It is measured by how we receive and steward whatever the Lord places in our hands while we have time.
That is what I want to do. I want to steward my life well.
Thank you for praying for me. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts with you.
I continue to believe what I have believed from the beginning.
Fear is not my future.
Christ is.
Countdown to Chemo. The last stop. March 2026.
“God loves us, so He makes us the gift of suffering. Through suffering, we release our hold on the toys of this world, and know our true good lies in another world. We’re like blocks of stone, out of which the sculptor carves the forms of men.
The blows of his chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect. The suffering in this world is not the failure of God’s love for us; it is that love in action.
For believe me, this world that seems to us so substantial is no more than the shadowlands. Real life has not begun yet.”
CS Lewis
When I went to my December 29 post-op appointment with Dr. Rossi, I brought printed out calendars of January, February, and March. I knew I would be starting chemo sometime after the first of the year, but I wanted to push that out as far as possible, so in a red Sharpie I had written down all of the events I had already planned for the first three months of 2026. I really didn’t believe I would be able to do everything on the calendar, but I thought that by stretching the calendar, she and I might be able to meet in the middle.
Instead, because Dr. Rossi understands my desire pursue quality of life, she was open to my finishing all planned events before starting chemotherapy, the last of which was this week - attending the Risk Management Network meeting in Orlando, Florida.
Tonight, if God wills, I will be back home. Tomorrow I will have surgery for the port placement at 10:30 am.
These 4 days with the RMN have been full of learning and laughs, and I am so thankful I was able to come. My friends even surprised me with a birthday cake, which was very special.
I also had the opportunity to give the opening devotion this morning, and I shared how there is joy in suffering if we fix our eyes on Jesus.
How thankful I am for these last two and a half months of travel that have allowed me to prepare my heart and mind for the days ahead. My first chemo infusion will start at approximately 9 am on Monday. I value your prayers as the day will likely be a long, emotional one.
“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. ”
Countdown to chemo. Stop #3.
London is a great city for walking about.
I've been asked repeatedly why I'm not starting chemo until mid March, and the answer is because Dr. Rossi and I agreed that following through with plans I had before this latest recurrence was a good thing.
I want to live and not just be alive.
So today Rick and I had a planned layover in London before we head off to stop #4.
Though I have been to London twice previously, I'd never been to the British Museum. That was rectified today.
No trip to London is complete without some proper fish and chips.
We walked by the River Thames and took in the sites. I can't get enough of the London Eye or Big Ben.
Trafalgar Square is another favorite spot since watching Bob Marley: One Love about 20 times. (I love that movie!)
Our time here was short, but we made the most of it.
Now, we're off to our next destination.
I can hardly wait.
Surrender, but don’t succumb
You are directed toward the glory of God in the highs and lows.
Mark Kelsey
On Friday, Dr. Rossi called to let me know she wants me to come back in August instead of waiting until November, and she wants me to get a PET scan soon - just to see if it will show what the CT scan has not. Where are those cancer cells hiding? Is there anything visible yet that we can find?
Saturday morning I left for New York City. Since going there solo in November, a weekend alone in Manhattan is becoming “a thing,” and each of these solo weekends has included attendance at Fount Church on 44th Street in the Palladium Theater. I went the first time because I was intrigued by the idea of a church meeting right off Times Square, but I have gone back twice because I found the worship to be genuine and the messages impactful.
Yesterday was another Ebenezer stone to remind me that on this journey, I have never walked alone, and I never will.
Pastor Mark Kelsey was visiting from Australia and brought the message - “Why Jesus.” About 13 minutes into the sermon, Pastor Mark began sharing the personal story of his family, the story of his wife Bernie’s diagnosis with ovarian cancer last fall. As he shared their story, I knew that I was there to hear it.
“When you surrender God actually prepares and gives you all you need to take the next steps for what God has for you. God wants to ready you for the challenges ahead. ”
After church we were all able to talk for a little while, and we prayed together. It was a sweet time. As we parted ways, I realized I had introduced myself, hoping I could encourage Bernie, but instead it seems I am the one who received the blessing.
Toward the end of the sermon, Pastor Kelsey referenced A Non-Anxious Presence by Mark Sayers.
“As we walk through life’s ups and downs... surrendering to the Father’s will . . . we become a non-anxious presence in the world.”
Yes and amen. These phrases -“a non-anxious presence” and “surrender but do not succumb” - are ones I’ll remember in the days ahead.
Bernie and I after church at Fount NYC. I’ve committed to praying for her healing in the days ahead. Will you join me?