I know all of you are praying - which amazes me all the time.

So, here are a couple of specific requests.

We have to decide what to pursue - alternative doctor wise. It is so hard when it looks like nothing is working. Pray that God gives us His wisdom.

When we get the biopsy results I'm sure there will be some big decisions to make. Those scare me the most. Pray for our wisdom in that and my oncologist to have wisdom in what to suggest.

Pray that I rest in the Lord and not get discouraged. There have been several times I've just wanted to curl up into a ball, pull the covers over my head, and do nothing but cry. That is not at all helpful in any which way. :-)

I love all of you so much! Thank you for holding me up in prayer and going along on this journey with me.

Sometimes denial is easier.

There are harder things than waiting.

It's when the waiting ends and you don't like the news.

Denial is much easier for me.

I love denial.

It's safe.

It's a world in which I can create what is going on regardless of reality.

As I wrote the last sentence to my post yesterday my oncologist called.

My safe little bubble of denial started to shatter.

It is never good when your doctor calls you.

If the news is nothing new, come see me in three months, the nurse calls.

It turns out that my liver's ears had good reason to itch yesterday.

If my lung had known what was good for it, it would have been itching, too.

The spots on the liver have grown, the radiologist thinks they look suspicious enough to biopsy, and I am scheduled for one on Friday the 1st of October.

The MRI also picked up the tumor in my lung. It seems that this tumor has grown by half a centimeter.

I wish I had more news to give you, but the above information is all I was given. We will talk about options when we get the biopsy results.

As always, I was a little numb after I hung up the phone with my doctor.

After a few minutes the news set in and the tears started.

Bad news, no matter how vague, never gets easier to take.

This time it was just Gabi and I at home.

Gabi doesn't have any idea what is going on. She wanted to make birthday cakes out of playdough. We sang happy birthday to Karis, made candles for the cake, played princess, put each other in the dungeon. (aka, the bedroom. And no, I don't put them in the dungeon when they are bad, this is something they came up with on their own)

Somehow we managed to do all of this in between me disappearing into the bathroom and blowing my nose.

I kept thinking, praise God for kids. They keep what is important about life front and center. No time for me to sink into despair.

So, what am I thinking?

My initial reaction is to throw in the towel. I've tried doing all these other things. Special diets, special doctors, special whatever.

From what I can see it has done nothing.

Frustration, bitterness, and anger are just waiting for me to turn to them.

I can feel them lurking, lurking, lurking when things like this happen.

I'm learning that in the midst of my tears, before I can even coherently talk about the latest health news, it's best to turn to God's Word.

"The Word of the Lord is proven." Ps. 18:30 is a promise that hasn't failed me yet.

This time God seemed to be saying to turn to Philipians.

I read all four chapters.

Here is what is helping me keep those lurking emotions at bay.

First, Paul was in prison at the time. When I was in Rome forever ago we went to what was thought to be Paul's prison. It wasn't a nice place all cleaned out and empty, so I'm sure it was horrible when he was in it.

Yet he writes all these encouraging words to the Philippians.

I'm not pretending to be anything at all like Paul, but the being in prison part resounded with me.

In a way it feels like my body is a prison.

I have all these dreams and hopes of what I want to do and where I want to be.

My body doesn't allow most of this to happen, hence the prison.

Knowing he is facing a physical prison while writing these words made them all the more encouraging.

I won't write out the entire passage, but what really got to me was Phil 3:7-16. I'll sum it up.

Paul has lost a lot, and is in prison, but none of that matters as long as he gains Christ. There is nothing good in him, only what comes through faith in Christ. The kind of righteousness that only comes through the resurrection from the dead. He knew he didn't have it yet, and this is what really grabbed me.

vs. 12, "Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own."

I LOVE that. Christ Jesus has made me his own.

I know I'm saved because I have put my faith in Christ to forgive me for my sins.

He has made me his own.

Frankly, I'm scared. I cry when I think of everything that could happen. Tumors in lungs aren't fun. They are painful. Already I have to sleep on one side because it is hard to breath on the other one. What if it gets hard everywhich way?

I don't want to do a biopsy. I don't want to stay on a special diet. I don't want to have to decide if a lung needs to be removed or not. Or decide which doctors can help the most.

But I am going to choose to remember that all that really matters is that He has made me his own.

In a sense we are all in the prison of our bodies. Some may feel it a little more than others, but it doesn't change the fact that our lives here on earth are very short compared to what comes after.

The question is who we are putting our trust in for eternity. Ourselves or Jesus?

Somehow this latest news has brought that front and center for me. As long as I have Him, what happens to my body here on earth really doesn't matter.

Do I want everything to get better? Absolutely!

But He has made me His own, and that is what I'm going to rest in - no matter what happens.

Still waiting :-)

My liver's ears, if it had ears, are burning.

You see... it's pictures are being looked at, compared with past MRI's, dissected, examined, and generally picked apart this afternoon.

I called earlier and was told they were having a meeting to discuss the organ in question and I would be notified of the outcome shortly.

Then I wondered what it would be like to have a job where you meet to discuss peoples livers?

And then I thought of a random fact I learned today.

Did you know that in the time span from Friday morning to Saturday evening your heart pumps enough blood through your body to fill one of those semi tankers that brings gas to gas stations?

I might like whoever's job it is to figure that out, then one that meets to discuss livers.

Then again, I disliked math, so maybe I'd better stick to what I'm currently doing.

And... since I can't tell you the state of my liver, I'll fill you in on a few other things that have been happening around here.

Ignore the grunge around the handles. Someday I'll get to that. The real point here is that for the past six months or so, more water has been coming out of the faucet then the shower head everytime we take a shower.

I've been mildly put out by this, everyone likes a shower with some umph behind it.

Dustin has been deeply disturbed.

The slightly more than a trickle we were getting just wasn't doing it for him.

We debated calling a plumber, but plumbers are so expensive.

Finally he took matters into his own hands.

I will admit I was a doubting Thomas. Dustin doesn't do much with plumbing.

Visions of no shower at all flitted though my mind.

He pulled some parts out. Bought some new ones.

And in about a half hour our water pressure went from a trickle to a well fed water fall. If I had realized what I was missing out on I would have been as disturbed as Dustin.

Way to go sweetie!

When the girls were staying with my mom for a week they started working on something called the HAND.

It's a system to help them remember what they need to do before they leave the house in the morning.

Each finger stands for something.

1. Make bed and clean room

2. Groom (hair, teeth, etc.)

3. Eat a healthy breakfast (pizza doesn't count)

4. Bible

5. Chore (ask mom or grandma)

I wish I could say it always goes smoothly around here, but at least we have some sort of order to follow.

Yesterday was one of those perfect days.

Karis called me back to see a well made, for her, bed, all her toys put away, and wonder of wonders... she had taken out all her shirts and was refolding them so they would be neater.

I was wondering who's child this was?

I am not picky about the order of their drawers. I wish I were, or could be more so, but for right now if it is in the drawer, it's all good.

Far be it from me to discourage neatness. :-)

It's all a waiting game.

Yet another thing I'm learning about myself.

It is so hard to wait.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." Phil. 4:6

I quoted that for me just now.

Not because the news I got today was bad.

But because it was another wait and see.

The MRI images were in.

To my oncologist they look like cysts on my liver, not carcinoid.

So Dustin and I asked him what we needed to do? How do we tell?

We wait.

We wait to see what the radiologist says in three days.

We have another MRI in three months.

Which, just so you know, three months puts us at December 21st.

I was more shocked by that fact than anything else.

Christmas is in three months.

My scheduling lady wished us a Happy Thanksgiving, as we walked out.

AAUUUGGGGHHHHH!!!! I need to Christmas shop!

But you clearly aren't reading this to hear me freak out about Christmas.

Nope, you want to know the details of my liver. :-)

Isn't life funny?

I'm all concerned about my lung.

My doctor wants to know about my liver. We didn't even look at my lung. We won't until three months from now when I have a chest x-ray.

Why is the liver so important?

If I don't have carcinoid in my liver than we might be able to do something about my lung.

Possibly surgery.

Possibly something else. I don't know what the something else is, however, so when I do find out I'll let you know. He just mentioned something else, so I though I'd throw it in there. He probably said what it was, but it was technical.

I got a tad distracted when he mentioned that I should consider bowls of ice cream to gain some weight. What? Ice cream? My doctor says I can have ice cream? I wanted to run to Dairy Queen right then. I won't, but I do have to gain weight, but I'll post about that later, maybe. Anyhow....

Now we wait. And I work on not being anxious. And on resting in the Lord. Trusting He knows what is going on and that I don't need to worry about a thing.

Life is all about waiting.

I know this.

In the past it's been waiting to graduate.

Waiting for a trip to come.

Waiting to meet the love of my life.

Waiting to get married.

Waiting for that first baby.

Now it is waiting for the results of a test.

For the blood work to come in.

To see if my liver has cysts on it or carcinoid.

And that kind of waiting is a bit harder for me.

Maybe it is because my life can't quite go on as normal because my health won't allow it.

The wait seems longer, the end results not engagement rings, wedding dresses, and soft baby snuggles.

But... God tells us to give thanks in everything, so today I'm giving thanks that...

18. My blood work remains normal.

19. I probably don't have carcinoid in my liver.

20. For a doctor who is both cautious and proactive.

21. That I didn't have to tackle a hospital gown today.

22. For thunderstorms. I love thunderstorms.

23. For a warm, dry house.

24. Naps, one of which I'm going to take right about now.

25. A God I can trust no matter what.

The hospital gown.

I had my MRI today, but since I don't have my oncology appointment until tomorrow, I have no real news to share.

However, may I take this moment to give my opinion of the hospital gown?

Thank you! I feel the need to vent. :-)

First.

Don't wear anything complicated to your test. It ain't worth it. No matter how cute the outfit.

I've had belts before, jewelry, layers upon layers..... (not of jewelry, but clothes) it takes forever just to get it all off, and that doesn't include the putting on of the hospital gown, which is an art in itself.

My choice today: a favorite pair of cozy green pants, tank top and sweatshirt.

With the correct attire I drove to the hospital and parked on the entirely wrong side of the ginormous building, of course.

By the time I discovered my mistake, I was too lazy to go back out to my car and drive around, so I walked. (ironic, huh?)

At least a quarter of a mile, maybe more - so much for laziness.

It gave me time to:

1. Wonder what was going on behind some locked doors.

2. Question who would be on the waiting gurney, and think it looked really odd sitting in an empty hallway. Yet it had a reserved sign on it. Who reserves gurneys? And did they know their reserved gurney was lost in a random hallway?

3. Be glad I wasn't color blind so I could follow my yellow signs and think that possibly it would help me find my room faster if I had sparkly red shoes like Dorothy.

4. If the doctors, who had obviously just got out of surgery, felt like the ones you see on t.v. Although I don't know how the ones on t.v. actually feel so it probably didn't do me a bit of good to wonder that. Nor to waste your time sharing it. My apologies.

5. Why they put McDonalds in a hospital. Is it to make sure the arteries re-clog as quickly as possible?

6. And forget about the dreaded hospital gown.

I passed Starbucks with heroic restraint. I was fasting until after my MRI.

Although what I thought I would get there, I'm not sure. So maybe it wasn't that heroic after all. :-)

I finally found the place my name was registered.

I waited.

Gave some information.

Waited.

Thought about my hospital gown....

Waited.

You see... I didn't bring anything to do, which proves my theory.

You wait longest with nothing to do.

Finally I was called back and asked to change.

They don't waste anytime.

You see? Never dress up. Doesn't do a bit of good, unless you want to put some snazzy underwear on,(usually you get to keep that on, at least)but even that isn't worth it cause not a soul sees it.

Then the real fun begins.

Wrestling with the blasted gown.

It is my humble opinion that they should switch to scrubs, in some situations, like MRI's.

There is nothing complicated about putting on scrubs.

Hospital gowns, on the other hand.....

I'm sure I've put them on frontwards, backwards and sideways in my limited experience.

I've tied them wrong, snapped them wrong, and clutched at them to keep them from flapping open.

They need instructions with pictures in the dressing rooms for people like me.

This time I did manage to get the front in the front.

I debated about what to do with the extra inch long hole by the collar. Did a string go through it?

I always debate that, even though I'm pretty sure it is for some tube you may or may not have inserted somewhere in your body.

What else could it be for?

Or maybe they just put it there to confuse me.

It's a deep dark plot! I knew it!

These thoughts distracted me as I did tie a couple of strings together and decided it was good.

My front was covered. Nothing seemed to be flapping open.

I gathered my things and glanced in the mirror, briefly.

Who wants to look at themselves in a hospital gown?

Why put mirrors in there, anyway?

And at this point I could go on about the color choices, but I won't. :-)

This time I was glad I had at least looked. Which, come to think of it, is probably why they put that mirror there in the first place.

Something was wrong in the back.

I was pretty sure there wasn't supposed to be a rather deep v of exposed skin.

Hummmmm.....

I put my clothes down and decided to tackle it again.

On the second go around, I found a couple of more strings and matched them up in a way that filled up that gap in the back.

I'm pretty sure there was an extra string or two, but, after thoroughly inspecting my person I decided to be content with two out of three.

You can't win them all. :-)

And those are my thoughts.

Tomorrow I will update everyone on the condition of my liver.

Doesn't that just sound so exciting?

Seriously, though. Thanks for those of you who were praying for me today. I was worried about coughing too much, and I hardly coughed at all. :-)

God always gives grace in these situations, and today He pulled me through yet again!

The perfect hair day :-)

The perfect hair day is very rare for me.

In fact, I'm not sure I've ever experienced one.

I have envied, I must confess, people who have straight hair they can just flat iron, and it stays flat ironed.

In the same breath, I'm sure people with straight hair could tell me all the things that can go wrong with it.

Don't get me wrong, curly hair has it's great points.

I don't blow dry for the most part. Ok, never. Don't tell Danielle, who styles it beautifully with a blow dryer whenever she cuts it.

Another great point. I probably get my hair cut.... mmmm.... three times a year??

Curling irons are unnecessary, unless you are trying to achieve those ridiculous bangs of the 90's. I confess I did use one then. Along with plenty of hair spray.

However, as I said before, I don't think I've ever had a perfect hair day.

More like moments.

Brief, split second moments.

The kind only a camera can capture, but rarely does.

This picture is a moment.

The breeze didn't blow it crazy out of control.

You can still see individual curls, no wild crazy, frizzy mass.

And, of course, the little darling in my lap helps the "perfect" factor out a lot.

Oh, and the lighting.... Love modern photography and the photographer who tweaked it. :-)

However, as I shared, these moments are few and far between.

Mostly there are days like today.

I did wash it, honest. I used to be a "wash everyday or I would keel over" kind of gal, but.... I'll admit the last two years have done a number on that one.

I forgot to put gel in it - sometimes you just have to give it a rest, you know? :-)

Then I walked around without putting it in a pony tail.

After exercising, resting, and doing little putsy things around the house.

You get this....
The head tilt helps the left side considerably. :-) It was sticking out far more.

Anyone else care to share what their hair normally looks like when it isn't crammed back into a pony tail?

Facing the world....

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Both Dustin and I have God to lean on, knowing He will never fail us or let us fall.

Here on earth, I have Dustin to lean on, and this picture is a visual of that for me.

He seems to be walking with a purpose and knows where he is going.

Gabi knows all she has to do is ride - she is safe in her daddy's arms.

Karis is unconcerned, as long as Mommy and Daddy are there and she has flowers to pick. She knows mommy has a tumor, but life is fine as far as she is concerned.

And me? It is nice at times just to be able to hold his hand and be told everything will be ok. He makes no false promises, but he assures me that no matter what he will be there, and God will get us through. I'm grateful God gave me a hand like his to hold.