Redeeming the Trial

I have a sweet friend who lost her husband just over a year ago to the same type of tumor that Dad has. All during this past week, she has been an encouragement to and prayer warrior for our family. In one of her letters to me she used the expression, "redeeming the trial" in reference to being able to use her own circumstances to encourage and pray for us. This phrase has stuck with me.

Redeeming the trial.


What does that mean to me? It means that I allow the trial to bring about change in my life. Something that redeems is something that delivers or brings about salvation or change.I find that I am suddenly looking at my life and the lives of those around me through different eyes. None of us are promised another hour. Yet we live life as if we have multiple tomorrows. Are we living life with an eternal mindset? Are we focused on Jesus Christ? Are we laying up treasures in heaven? Are we reaching out to those around us rather than living in our own little bubbles? I am praying already that this trial of Dad's brings about lasting change in myself and others.



To redeem also means to restore the honor or worth of. As I consider the words, "honor" and "worth" I am praying that I will be worthy of the honor of undergoing this trial, even though not as closely as my Dad himself is undergoing the trial. As James 1:2-3 says, "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance." And James 1:12 says, "Blessed is a man who perseveres under trial; for once he has been approved he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him." It is a blessing and an honor to go through trials! The man who walks the easy road probably isn't growing very much. I am already praying that my parents will not forget to count it a joy and blessing to undergo this trial. I am also praying that they will be tested (and react to the testing) in such a way that the world will not be able to doubt who the Author of my parents' story is.


Redeeming the trial.


This means using the trial to share Jesus and taking every moment that remains to glorify God. We redeem the trial by our Christ-like actions and reactions in the midst of hard times. We redeem the trial by having empathy with and sharing the burdens of those going through their own set of difficult circumstances. We redeem the trial by focusing more on the cross and less on self. We redeem the trial by openly sharing our situtuation with other believers so that they in turn can pray and praise with us, growing in their own relationship with their Savior and with fellow heirs. We redeem the trial by using our hard circumstances as a way to reach out to those that don't know Jesus.

Redeeming the trial.


People find a common bond in hard situations. Sickness is a bond that draws people together. My Dad has brain cancer and our family will redeem this trial for the glory of God!


Over the next few days, I will be sharing my parents story and how this whole trial began. From what Dad's first signs and symptoms were to the current prognosis. My prayer is that God will be glorified in the writing and telling of the story and that you will be encouraged and convicted.
Solus Christus,

Heading Home

Dad is officially being released today (from the hospital not prison).
So let's see...
We found out a week ago that he had a massive brain tumor.
The surgeons removed that tumor less than a week ago.
He is up and walking and going home today.

Try to convince me that God doesn't exist.

Go ahead.

I dare you.

Healing and Recovery

Lydia here:) I'm not the writer that Hannah is, but she does have a full-time job so you'll have to put up with me when she's not able to post updates. Dad is doing really well. Thank you all so much for your prayers!

Dad is up and walking some with a walker and will come home with a walker. He is under the care of physical and occupational therapists and is trying different exercises in order to rebuild his strength as well as re-learn how to do certain things. He's hoping to get down to the hospital's piano and try his hands out there tomorrow!

We still have not heard back from the pathology lab- hoping to hear tomorrow at the latest. This will determine the course of treatments available to Dad and help to know what will be most successful. Please pray for continued wisdom for the medical staff and our family as these decisions are made.

We are in the process also of determining what changes will need to be made to Dad and Mom's home so that it will be easily accessible for Dad as he goes about his daily living. We are also praying about the scheduling and place of Dad's treatments and would appreciate your prayers joining with ours.

Thank you again for all of your prayers and support this past week. Tomorrow it will be a week since we found out that Dad had the tumor and what a week it has been! It has been a week to renew our focus on what is true and lovely and real, a week to remind us that our treasure should be in heaven, a week to focus on the cross and on Jesus Christ. It has been a week of praying that God will be glorified by our actions and reactions, a week of believing in and praying for miracles, a week of praising God for all His gifts. What a gift the Body of Christ is! We have just been overwhelmed by your love for our family! All the visits, all the prayers said and tears shed for us, all the cards and meals and phone calls and e-mails!!!!! This is Jesus Christ in you, we are so blessed to be a part of the Body of Christ with you!!!!

We love you, our brothers and sisters!
The Carson and Wells families

Happy Anniversary!!

Today Mom and Dad celebrate 36 years together. As Dad said this morning "glorious years."

As a child you don't always appreciate this. What 10 year old actually wants to see their parents kissing and slow dancing in the kitchen? Certainly not this one. In my 10 year old voice I would have said "eewww.....gross."

But as an adult, you strive for this kind of love.

C.S. Lewis said, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

I have seen no selfishness in my parent's relationship. Oh, I'm not saying they are perfect, for no one is, but their marriage has truly been a partnership. Their lives have not been wrapped up in hobbies but rather wrapped up in service to God and with that comes their love for each other and their family.

Throughout this entire trial Dad has continually quoted 1 John 4:18. "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear ... "

Love. The word is so full of mushy sentiment in today's world. A greeting card industry's "most valuable player." But love is not a sentiment. Love is a choice. Love is a requirement for a "peace....which passes all understanding."

How does one get through trials with mush and sentiment? One doesn't.

One gets through trials with love. Real love "bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."
-- Corinthians 13:7-8

The Patient

Dad and some random Hare Krishna.

Moving Day

Dad is just surprising everyone. Either that or the ICU is running out of space. At this very moment he is being moved to a regular room on the surgery recovery floor.

The neurologist-on-call stopped by this morning to check on Dad's progress. He began by asking a few simple questions such as "where are you?" and "do you know your name?" We aren't entirely sure if the drugs are still in high effect or if Dad is just being Dad but apparently his new name is "john jacob jingleheimer schmidt" or something to that effect.

Did I mention that Dad faked a small seizure yesterday afternoon before surgery just because he thought it might be amusing? I think we should have had this man's brain checked out years ago.

And, he still wants his chili dog.

Mom said that he was able to play a little air-piano this morning which is hopeful. We were concerned he might lose this which would be devastating for Dad but if his air-piano is any indication, he should be just fine.

We have been so blessed by all the visitors and email and phone calls. My Dad is a man who is loved. We also have seen how God is using this experience to reveal His glory. Everyone will not understand how a man faced with death can still experience joy. They will ask how we, as his family, do not weep in sorrow.

We do weep and we shall weep, but our hope is in God and we know that David Carson is a stranger in a strange land and his home and his rest is yet to come.

My sister reminded me earlier this week of a moment from "The Silver Chair" by C.S. Lewis.


Puddleglum: Suppose... suppose we have only dreamed and made up these things like sun, sky, stars, and moon, and Aslan himself. In that case, it seems to me that the made-up things are a good deal better than the real ones. And if this black pits of a kingdom is the best you can make, then it's a poor world. And we four can make a dream world to lick your real one hollow. As for me, I shall live like a Narnian even if there isn't any Narnia.

Out of Surgery!!

Dad will be so disappointed when he wakes up and is just looking at the boring faces of his family. We can't compare with Jesus but I guess we'll have to do for now.

We just talked to the neurosurgeon that operated on Dad. He was able to remove all of the tumor and place time released chemotherapy tablets into the cavity that housed the tumor. The MRI had accurately shown the size and depth of the tumor and by the grace of God, there were no surprises during surgery.

The next step is for Dad to recover from the anesthesia which should take about an hour and a half. Then we get to pick on his skinny shaved head.

Dad will remain in ICU for about three more days and then be moved to a regular room. The pathology on the tumor will be returned on Friday and treatment will be decided at that point. We do know that the tumor was malignant but we don't know how this will affect treatment until Friday.

Thank you for all of your prayers and check back for regular updates.

Anticipation

Early Friday evening Mom and Dad returned home after Dad's MRI. Dad was starving. Now, those of you that know Dad understand how vitally important his need for a good hearty meal is. My Dad has never been what you would call "husky." Needless to say, I did not inherit his metabolism. Regardless, Dad was craving a big-ol' chili dog!

Mom, loving wife that she is, fixed Dad the best looking hot dog you can imagine. We're talking about a dripping, gooey mound of chili and slaw. It was beautiful enough to make a vegetarian convert to a carnivore.

Then the phone rang.

Mom answered and Dad knew immediately that she was talking to the neurologist. He listened intently with his untouched chili dog sitting on the tray in his lap. That's when he heard Mom say "He has a brain tumor?"

To most, this would be a crushing blow. A death sentence. To Dad it was something entirely different.

Dad told my Mom that when he heard those words come out of her mouth, he was overcome with excitement. He knew what a brain tumor meant and for him that meant he would see his Savior soon.

This is my Dad. A man living in the light of eternity. A man not afraid of death but rather running toward the finish line. A man who fully understands that "perfect love casts out fear."

Mom, holding it together, as much as can be expected, called the EMS to pick Dad up and take him to Wake Med. The 911 operator told her to make sure he did not eat or drink anything.

Mom snatched that chili dog off of Dad's lap so fast that even Oscar Meyer could feel the wind from it. This would become the most unbearable thing that Mom had ever done to Dad in 36 years of marriage and believe it when I say that everyone he has come into contact with for the last three days has heard the chili dog story. I think, perhaps, he still wants that chili dog.

So, here we sit awaiting Dad's surgery which will happen at 2:00 today. We are hopeful and have absolute faith in our Lord. This is a win-win situation. We will either get to keep the man we love for a little while longer or he will get to see his Savior and hear "Well done, good and faithful servant."