Trusting God In the Midst of the Storm

Sometimes the words, "Lord, I still trust you" are the hardest words you'll ever say.

When we're in the midst of the storm and it seems that all hope is lost, God still calls us to trust Him.

Doubts will cloud our mind, storm clouds darken the horizon, the wind begins to blow and our ship is tossed about on the angry waves of this sea called life. But if we have the Master on our ship, we have nothing to fear!

Several weeks back I traveled to Oklahoma for a visit with my family. While there I attended church with them and one Sunday night they had a visiting preacher.

This man had never saw me and I had never saw him before. As we walked through the doors and sat down on the pew I noticed him paying close attention.

Throughout the service I made eye contact with him several times. It was obvious that he was watching me, but I didn't know why. I had a feeling that God was going to do something special but I didn't know what.

The worship progressed and then it was time for the visiting minister to come forward. He stepped to the pulpit and immediately pointed to me. He said, "I have never saw you before but as soon as you walked through the doors tonight, God spoke to me. I would like for you to come to the front so I can pray for you."

I had been expecting something, but not that. I was a little surprised and even looked around to see if he was talking about someone else, but no, it was me. I made my way to the front and he said, "You have been sick for a long time. This is not the end, God is not finished with you yet. God has something for you to do." He asked the church to join him in prayer and said that I would receive strength in my body when he prayed for me.

The church began to pray and as he laid his hand on my head I felt a warmth go from the top of my head all the way down to my toes. I have never felt that before. I don't know what it was, but I do know that I have been stronger since the night he prayed for me. I have experienced less sickness with the chemo treatments and I have been able to do more. I am so thankful for the healing touch of God!

It amazes me how God is so mindful of us. To send a preacher my way who I have never seen or met in a little country church in the small town of Tahlequah Oklahoma to pray for me in my time of need was so amazing to me. God truly knows us by name!

God doesn't promise an easy road, but He does promise strength for the journey,

God doesn't promise a life without pain but he promises grace through the pain,

God doesn't promise a road with no trouble, but he promises to be with us in trouble,

God doesn't promise everything we want, but he promises to meet our every need.

My husband and I have faced many storms while sailing our ship.

I was always told upon getting married that the first year is always the hardest. I wondered what people meant by this because adjusting to living with another person wasn't hard for me. We had few arguments and got along very well so the storm wasn't personal issues.

For us the storm came in the form of a sickness that turned out to be cancer.

The storm came in learning how to walk through everyday uncertainty and still survive. The storm came in trusting God for our needs because we suddenly found ourselves buried deep in medical bills.

But through the storm God has always proven to be faithful.

Whatever your storm may be today, always remember that with the Master on board your ship will safely reach the port. You will make it through the storm.

God still speaks peace in the midst of the storm!

Blessings,

-Amy

Adjustments

It was time to go home! I was so happy I was finally leaving the hospital. I had almost forgotten what my own house looked like and I longed for the taste of home cooking after eating hospital food for 18 days. I was leaving a much different person than I had come. I was 50lbs heavier due to the retention of fluid and I had multiple scars on my body from two surgeries, an IV line, and the rapid weight gain. However, I was leaving and that was the important thing.

My next few weeks at home were about learning to adjust again. Because of the rapid weight gain I had suddenly found myself living in another person's body. My clothes didn't fit and I had a difficult time walking around the house because I wasn't accustomed to the extra weight. However in just seven days I had not only lost the 50lbs I gained in the hospital, but an additional 10lbs. I was suddenly smaller than I had ever been in my life! Now instead of my clothes being too small, they hung on me!

While in the hospital there were many things discussed about the after effects of chemo that I didn't fully understand until I got home and was able to process it all in my mind without the effects of drugs clouding my ability to comprehend.

As I sat at home contemplating these things I remembered one such instance that occurred right before I was given my first infusion of chemotherapy. I was prepped and ready to begin treatments when my doctor walked in and sat on the edge of my bed. He began to explain to my husband and I that because of my youth and the harshness of the treatments it was very likely that we would become infertile. He said the only chance we had of conceiving a child was if they could harvest my eggs and do invetrofertilization when we were ready to have children.

This sounded like a satisfactory solution to us until further questioning revealed that because certain factors were not lined up correctly in my biological clock, it was too late to harvest my eggs. The doctor said, "The choice is yours. You can wait three weeks to harvest eggs or you can begin treatments right away but frankly, you don't have three weeks to wait. This is a matter of life and death."

He offered to leave us alone so we could discuss our decision in privacy but my husband was already shaking his head. I knew what our decision had to be. I turned to the doctor and said, "We don't need to discuss it. Start the treatments. It's all we can do."

It was with a heavy heart that we continued on for the rest of that day. Just as any young married couple we had dreamed of one day starting our own little family and holding our babies in our arms. We never dreamed that such a simple thing would end in so tragic a loss. I love children and have always worked with them in some capacity. I anxiously awaited the day when I could hold my own son or daughter in my arms and show them all the love a mother has. Seth came from a good sized family and dreamed of having a large family of his own. We both planned to have a large house in the country filled with giggling children. Now had all of our dreams just turned to dust in a few short minutes?

But all is not lost. We believe in miracles and we believe in a God who rewards those who are faithful to Him. Our children are in God's hands and if they be biological or not doesn't really matter. We will have children one day by the grace of God and every one of them will be a little miracle from the Lord.

And then came the fateful day that I had dreaded since arriving home from the hospital. My doctors had assured me with no uncertainty that I would experience hair loss with my type of chemo treatments. It was inevitable and unavoidable. This was one of the things I dreaded the most about chemo because for as long as I could remember I had wanted long hair. I prayed as a child to have long, beautiful hair and God had granted that prayer. My hair now reached to my ankles and I had never put a pair of scissors to it.

Exactly 21 days after my first chemo treatment, I began to notice little pieces of hair everywhere. Knowing what was happening but not wanting to face the reality of it I simply decided to ignore the obvious. One night as Mom was helping me comb out my hair a large piece of it just fell out. It was the most unnatural, grotesque thing I had ever witnessed. She immediately stopped combing and we just braided it and put it up.

A few days later a friend came over to help me comb and wash my hair. Again, more hair came out as she combed. That night as my husband ran his hands through my hair in the comforting way I was used to, a large handful came out in his hand.

I knew it was happening. It was unavoidable now. I had to face reality. The next day as I washed my hair, I experienced the loss of the remainder of what was once my glory. This experience was one of the worst I've been through since discovering I had cancer and was one of the hardest things to deal with. I had to keep reminding myself that it is just hair and it will grow back. I decided to put a smile on things and wear my cute hats and wigs with pride. After all, who gets the opportunity to change their appearance so drastically every day?

Through it all my husband has been my champion. He has encouraged and held me through the hard times. Our love has grown stronger because of the battles we have had to face in our short lives together. He still calls me his "beautiful angel" and to a woman who has no hair, that means the world!

Cancer has stolen alot from us. It has ravaged my body with its greedy teeth, it has caused many sleepless nights, many tears that shouldn't have been shed and many losses that cannot be recovered. But in all it's ugliness, cancer has also given us so much.

I now find a new joy in the simple things of life. Things that I took for granted before I now thank God for because I know there was once a day when I was unable to enjoy even the simple pleasures that life can give.

Cancer has taught me to love and appreciate others for who they are and to forgive unconditionally because I never know when the time will come that I'll need that same forgiveness.

Cancer has taught me that life is short. Enjoy things while you can because you never know when that day will come that you are unable to do or accomplish what you dreamed.

Most importantly, cancer has taught me to be a fighter. Never let your trial overcome you. You may not have the strength to face the mountain alone but the God in you will empower you to do all things through Him. Strength doesn't always come when we think we're at our weakest, but when we truly are. I have learned that God's grace is and always will be sufficient to meet our every need.

I will overcome this disease. I will make it through the storm victoriously because there are no losers when you live for Jesus. Either way, I will come out a winner because I read the back of the book and I'm an overcomer. Not by might, nor by power but by His Spirit.

I hope my ramblings encouraged someone today to press a little harder, go that extra mile, reach out to that loved one or neighbor that God has placed on your heart. None of us are exempt. We never know when trouble will knock on our door. When God calls our name will we be able to say "I have a testimony! I walked through the fire and I came out as gold." Or will we have to say with shame "I was given my opportunity and I turned it away for the convenient road in life."

Make a difference today!

God Bless

-Amy

The Journey

As I lay in the recovery room at UAMS I could hear the steady "beep" of the heart monitors and the nurses muted voices as they went from cubicle to cubicle checking on patients. I became aware of a pain in my chest and memories came flooding back to me. I had undergone a surgical biopsy earlier that day to determine what type of cancer I had.

I wondered for a moment where my family was and if they knew the outcome of the surgery yet.

As I lay in pain with a chest tube draining from my right lung a perky little nurse poked her head in the cubicle where I was. She inquired to my well being and I asked if I could have anything for the pain. She brought some water and returned shortly with a syringe filled with a clear substance.

She explained that she had one milligram of morphine for my pain. As she began to administer the pain medicine I felt a tightening in my chest. My breathing slowed and I felt numb from my waist down. I was aware of the steady "beeps" of the heart monitor, then I heard a long, loud straight "beep". I saw nurses rushing into the cubicle where I was and heard a code being shouted and then everything went black.

I was in a tunnel and traveling very fast. At the end of the tunnel was a bright light and I was careening toward it at break neck speed. I should be afraid but I wasn't. I felt the most indescribable amount of peace. It was wonderful! The closer I got to the light the more peace I felt. I never wanted to leave. As I came closer to the light it began to unfold like sunbeams. I had the feeling I was seeing into another world and I wanted to go there very badly.

I started to give in and turn myself over to this glorious light when I felt something call me back. From the recesses of my mind I remembered that I was in a hospital and I wasn't supposed to go anywhere. I hadn't saw my family yet, what would they do if I was gone? I must go back! I faintly heard someone calling my name and asking me to breathe. As I took a shuddering breath I slowly opened my eyes and saw the face of the perky little nurse hovering over mine.

She exclaimed with great excitement, "'Thank God! She's breathing!" and then I heard the words, "I stopped her heart with the morphine!" I didn't fully understand my experience until later but when I was coherent enough I told my family about my glimpse of eternity. I must say, it was a most beautiful experience.

Little did I know that my journey would be filled with many such experiences. This was only the beginning of the journey.

I was moved to ICU and spent one night there while a room was being prepared for me on the 6 floor where the surgery recovery patients stayed. I received the most wonderful of care from the nurses and made friends of many of them. I felt as though God had paved the way for me and somehow I had favor in the eyes of many of the nurses and doctors on my unit.

I was on seven different antibiotics around the clock to kill the massive infection in my lung and was also given many fluids. The antibiotics made me very sick and for a week I couldn't eat anything. I began to retain fluids and gained 50lbs in seven days. I was miserable. I was in constant pain from the consistent coughing and the chest tube that scraped against my lungs.

I did alot of praying and searching my heart in that time. God dealt with me on things that I had neglected in my walk with Him. My pastor and assistant pastor were a constant source of strength as they visited, prayed and encouraged. I was so thankful for a Man of God in my life at this dark time!

One morning the surgeon stepped into my room and said they had discovered what the mass in my right lung was - the diagnoses was B Cell Lymphoma. Because this type of cancer is of the lymph nodes it progresses very rapidly and is very aggressive and fast growing. He recommended chemo therapy treatments right away to stop its rapid growth.

However, before I could start the treatments I had to undergo a Bone Marrow Biopsy and a PET scan to determine if the cancer had spread through my body. I prepared myself for these additional tests and we all prayed for the best. The results came back, the cancer was contained in my right lung area only and had not spread! It was a miracle of God!

The next day Nurse Allen entered my room and with the utmost seriousness informed me I was being moved to the seventh floor. I did not yet know what the "seventh floor" was but it sounded ominousness. I inquired as to what the seventh floor was and without looking at me he quietly responded, "That's where the cancer patients go." It sounded like a death toll.

So with great trepidation I fortified myself as best I could and prepared to be moved to the cancer floor. I was reminded of Psalm 23:4 "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

My days on the seventh floor of UAMS was an experience I'll never forget. Rarely ever did I see a patient walking the halls. All was kept quiet and as peaceful as possible and the nurses came in and out with much respect and difference to the patient. The place was very sad. I got the impression that most were sent there to wait out their last days. It was depressing and scary but it put a fight in me. I determined that I would walk out of that ward stronger than I had entered and I would beat this horrible disease!

The nurses adopted me as if I was their own and had a nickname for me, "Baby Girl". I later found out that I was the youngest patient on that floor and many looked after me as if I was their own daughter or granddaughter. Once again I was blessed with the best nurses and doctors one could ask for. I felt like Joseph in the house of Photipher!

My first night on floor seven was filled with questions, uncertainty and a little anxiousness.

The nurse assigned to me was named Jan. She was a blunt, straight forward person who loved her job and her patients. She pulled no punches and what you saw was what you got. I immediately liked her. The night was slow and quiet so Jan came in often to check on me. I had many unanswered questions about chemo treatments that were scheduled to start the following night and Jan was more than happy to answer them for me.

I asked Jan to give it to me straight and spare no details. She explained the sickness, the hair loss, the night sweats, occasional pain and general things to expect with chemo. At this point I was fearful to even begin treatments. I knew it was my only option but I also knew of friends and family who had suffered extensively at the hands of chemo and I didn't want that for myself.

Jan was an angel in disguise. She helped me to understand that sometimes healing comes through pain. We pray for instant healing, we want God to do it now! But sometimes God allows pain and trials to shape us into what we are supposed to be. Sometimes our healing comes in the form of a doctor or nurse who knows what type of treatment we need. Sometimes God gives wisdom beyond this world to our doctors to help us in our times of need. These are still the hands of God at work, however they may not be the hands we were looking for.

I had believed from the beginning of my journey that God would heal me. I was looking more along the line of an instant miracle. Even on the cancer floor the night before my chemo treatments I was still holding out for a miracle. No 21 year old wants to face the road of chemo and cancer. But Jan helped me see that sometimes God's ways are not ours and healing isn't always an instant miracle - sometimes it's a journey.

The next night at 2:00am I began my first chemo infusion. My family from Oklahoma had come in and I was surrounded by my husband, mother, father, grandmother and aunt. They kept a vigilant of prayer and encouragement around my bedside as the nurse came in clothed from head to foot in protective gear. It was a fearful experience but I remembered a promise from the Word of God, "I am with you always".

They had warned us before starting treatments that the first time can be a bit rough and they would sedate me to keep me as calm as possible. They also said something called the "rigors" usually set in after two hours of treatment and would cause uncontrollable shakes as if in a severe seizure and can also cause pain. This is a result of the immune system suddenly shutting down and all good and bad cells in the body being killed rapidly.

The first treatment lasted 6 hours. All went well until about two hours into the treatment. I began to shake uncontrollably as if in the throes of a severe seizure. My family gathered around and began to pray. The nurse called for some help and came rushing back with some pain medicine and sedation. My body gradually calmed and I went back to sleep.

The days that followed my treatment were filled with sickness and alot of coughing. I would cough until I vomited and could no longer breathe. The cancer had been attacked and seemed as if it was trying to attack me. I was on alot of medication and there are whole days in the hospital that are unaccounted for.

One night after a particularly bad coughing spell I lay gasping for breath in the recliner chair in my room. My throat was closing and although I was on oxygen I could not get any air through my nose. The nurse came rushing in and administered medicine but it wasn't working fast enough. I was struggling to breathe and beginning to panic. In a worried voice I heard my mom beg the nurse to "Please just calm her down". Sweet, little nurse Mary took me by the hand and said "I'm going to pray for you now and God will help you."

As Mary began to pray my breathing eased and a most wonderful feeling of peace filled the room. I literally felt angels descend into the room and stand at attention around my chair as she prayed. She prayed with such authority and simple faith I was humbled by her obvious connection with God. She prayed for healing, peace, and comfort to be restored back to me. She asked for angels to guard me all my life and prayed God's blessing upon me. I have never been so touched by the simple prayer of a nurse who though she did not know me, knew the God I served and went to Him on my behalf. It was experiences like those that kept me sane in my 18 day stay on the seventh floor.

One other night I had an extreme sense of restlessness. I felt as though the forces of Hell were attacking my mind and tormenting my soul. Thoughts began to plague my mind and I wondered what would happen to my young husband and family if I were to die? Would I ever have any children? Would I be "normal" again? My mom was sleeping peacefully and I didn't want to awaken her by turning on a light so I just held my Bible close to my chest and began to pray. Tears started flowing as I poured my heart out to God. I missed the warmth of my husbands embrace at night and the comfort of my own home. I told God just how I felt and said, "Jesus, I just need a hug." Instantly I felt a peaceful presence fill the room. I felt someone standing by my bedside and although I didn't see anyone I felt myself being lifted off the bed and held in the most wonderful of embraces. I felt the strong arms of God as they held me close and peace flooded my soul. I then felt as if God laid me back down in my bed and tucked me in. I slept peacefully that night without dreams. I will never forget my hug from Jesus.

Shortly before I left the hospital, I was drawn to a man who would come in and gather the trash in my room daily. There was something about him and I felt that God was dealing with me to talk to this man. I didn't know what I should say or how I should say it so I prayed for the opportunity to speak with him.

One day while going about his duties, I noticed he kept looking at me. A friend of mine had come by the hospital to help me wash and comb my hair and I had it down. I thought maybe his attention was over the extraordinary length of my uncut hair. I caught his eye and smiled and he commented that I had pretty hair. I thanked him and asked how his day was going. He said it was a good day and shortly after exited my room. I couldn't shake the feeling that God had something for that man and I needed to talk to him. But what would I say? I prayed that he would come back and shortly after, he did.

He cautiously stepped in my room and said, "I'm sorry to bother you but I have been feeling that God was drawing me to you all day. I don't know what it is about you but I would like to pray for you if you don't mind." I gladly welcomed the prayer and we gathered around and joined hands. As we all began to pray I felt Heaven come into the room. I don't know what this man's experience with God was, but I strongly felt the Holy Ghost began to move and as it did, it began to speak through me. The Spirit fell and at the end of our prayer meeting we were all speaking in tongues as God gave the utterance. I never saw that man again, but I have no doubt that God was in that meeting!

These are just a few of my experiences on the Cancer Floor of UAMS. God proved Himself to be so real to me in those dark days in the hospital.

I hope these experiences of mine have encouraged and uplifted someone today. Even in the darkest of your trials God can bring beauty from ashes!

Keep reading for more on my journey with cancer.

God bless!

-Amy

The Beginning

I knew something wasn't right. I could feel it. For months I suffered with a persistent cough that would not go away and my chest felt heavy, but everyone gets a cold in the winter, right? I was sure that's all this was, just a minor cold that would go away. Besides, I didn't have time for such things; I had a wedding to plan!

I would marry the love of my life in a few short weeks and life couldn't be any better.

Our wedding was beautiful, our honeymoon something of a fairy tale and we began our life together. Young, happy, and very much in love.

April came and the cough got worse. I began to run a constant fever and experienced dizziness, black outs, loss of appetite and weight loss. The symptoms were too great now; something had to be done. I visited the emergency clinic one day on lunch break and was told I had pneumonia.

After one week of suffering and symptoms continually getting worse, I made an appointment with my doctor. She ran several tests and discovered I was severally anemic and also determined that I had a severe case of pneumonia.

I was treated for pneumonia for another 2 1/2 weeks, but when nothing improved, another test was ran.

It was a typical Wednesday at work. Beautiful summer weather and I was feeling some better that day than usual. I received a phone call from my doctor that my test results had come in and she would like to see me.

I met with my husband after work that day and together we made our way to Dr. Sanders office. She was very grave as she entered the room. In my heart I knew the news wasn't good, but we had just experienced the loss of my husband's grandmother just days before and I couldn't bear the thought of more bad news.

She sat us down and then with compassion in her eyes explained that what she saw on the chest xray wasn't typical pneumonia. She wasn't sure just what it was but she felt that I needed to be admitted to the hospital that day for further testing and a proper diagnoses.

With dread, we made our way to the hospital, not knowing what we may find out there. In the back of my mind a little voice whispered that this wasn't something of the ordinary, but this would change my life forever. I ignored these ominous warnings and tried to put on a brave face. After all, we had only been married barely 5 months. Nothing will happen to our happily ever after — right?

The morning of June 9th dawned bright and cheerful. Quite the contrast from what I was feeling inside my hospital room. Tests had been ran the night before and my husband, mother and I were waiting to hear back from the doctor.

That afternoon, one hour before my husband's grandmother's funeral, the doctor stepped in and was followed by the lung specialist.

Both doctors looked so serious and sad that I immediately knew it was cancer. I don't know how I knew but it was as if I had been forewarned and the day of reckoning had come.

My greatest fears were realized when Dr Kendrick looked at me and with tears in his eyes said, "I have looked over your tests and it's not good. What you have is consistent with either Sarcoma or Lymphoma cancer. I'm so sorry."

My young husband rushed to my side and we cried and held each other as the doctors looked on helplessly. As long as I live I will never forget that moment in my life. It was the darkest of days but even in the storm, God gave grace to see us through. As I smiled through the tears I looked at the doctor and calmly replied, "Well that's not the news anyone would want to hear at the age of 21, but God knows what He's doing."

The doctors were very kind and even offered to sit with me if I felt I needed additional time to take the news in, but I knew God's grace would be sufficient and we must face the storm.

My husband was so torn between staying with me that day or attending his grandmother's funeral where he was a pall bearer, but I sent him on. This was his last duty to a wonderful, Godly lady who had also fought cancer and I wanted him there.

I spent the rest of that day in tears. Although I was sad for what I knew would happen in the future, I wasn't afraid. I can honestly say from the moment of my diagnosis I didn't experience one moment of fear. Sad yes, grieving yes, but afraid? No. I felt an unexplainable amount of peace. I know this was only from God!

I was referred to a larger hospital to have several biopsy's done to determine just what type of cancer I had.

I had a total of five needle biopsy's - all unsuccessful in determining what was in my right lung area. At one point they discussed removing the entire right lung but this surgery was not advised because of my age and the extent of the surgery.

We finally met with Dr Steligca, the lung surgeon at UAMS and he ran his tests.

I went for a consultation of surgery July 22 and was admitted to the hospital that same night. The next morning I was prepped for surgery and whisked away to the operating room. I had a surgical biopsy in which the doctor removed a large piece of the tumor in my right lung for testing. They performed the test right in the operating room and the results were waiting on us when I came out of recovery.

It was a positive answer this time. I had B Cell Lymphoma Cancer. The mass on top of my right lung was compressing the lung to the degree of rendering it inoperable. It had caused a severe infection and extensive scar tissue in the lung. Large parts of my lung had collapsed and the mass was measured to be 7 inches long by 5 inches wide.

Because of the aggressiveness of the disease and it's rapid growth, the Doctor immediately referred me to the Oncology group and I began chemo treatments days later.

Now you know the beginning of my journey.

Stay posted for more! I have a wonderful but long story to tell and I would love to share it to you, my reader.

May you be blessed by these ramblings of mine!