Dear Cuties,

Once we received the official cancer diagnosis, we were faced with a new and very personal decision; how were we to approach this? You might have questions about why we chose the treatments we did, which is very understandable. This felt like the heaviest choice I would ever have to make, and to be honest it felt that way because it was a choice I had run through my head hundreds of times previously.

If you didn’t know by now, my father, your Papa Mark, is a 2 time cancer survivor.  My youngest brother, your uncle Nathan, is also a cancer survivor. He was actually diagnosed with a very rare type of brain cancer just a few weeks after Eben was born. Your other grandfather Israel, sadly died from cancer before your dad and I met. Having to watch people we loved so dearly walk through their cancer journeys was hard, and it had caused both your dad and I to dive into alternative medicine options, cancer therapies, treatment facilities, and more.

Personally, I can admit that I was almost smug in my belief that if I ever had to go down that path, I would absolutely choose to do natural therapies. I was skeptical of the efficacy of conventional treatments, and focused on all the side effects, and long term damage these therapies often seemed to cause. I had a strong, quiet conviction that if I were in a similar situation, chemo and radiation was not something I would subject my body to.

But God must have taken my hubris with a raised brow, because it became clear to me that my first and biggest lesson in this journey was that I was going to have to drop to my knees and be open to being humbled in every respect. As your dad and I weighed my options, I knew deep in my bones that it would be a mistake for us to let fear or ego drive my choices; we needed to gather information on a fresh slate, specific to my diagnosis, and then pray like heck and tune in to the quietest whispers of our intuition to guide us. The more we read and learned about my subtype and stage, and the different treatment options available, the more we both quietly realized that a hybrid approach seemed to make the most sense in both our heads and hearts.

I had to break open to considering everything and anything that kept me here with all of you. Some might call it desperation; others abandoning your beliefs, but I prefer to see my choice to undergo conventional treatments as a surrender of the ego. I was doing my best to open the eyes of my heart, and let my faith guide me. I of course wrestled with this idea tremendously; what if this was a test of my convictions and now that it was time to step up to the plate and live out the holistic crunchy ideals I held, I was failing?

I struggled with embarrassment, shame, and even grief over this choice, as it felt like the choice I was making was not only determining my fate, but also defining my identity. Here I was, at the crossroads of a decision, and I wasn’t going down the path I had always assured myself I would. What did this make me? A coward? A fraud? While I knew I hadn’t been living up to my healthiest self lately, I was still the mom that home birthed 4 children, the mom that tries to balance meals, the mom that cooks bone broth and reaches for vitamin c and colloidal silver and essential oils ahead of medicines.

I wondered, what if God was using this health crisis as an opportunity to help me step deeper into a holistic lifestyle, and I was misinterpreting the data and my feelings, and moving against his will? Would choosing to treat my cancer in the conventional way seal my fate for a lifetime of health issues, cancer recurrence, even a sooner death? My heart was very, very, heavy during these days as my thoughts spiraled, terrified that I was being challenged to move down one path yet choosing another. I prayed over and over for God to send me a sign, a voice, to let me know loudly and clearly that I was making the right choice.

Your dad, in his infinite goodness, was my anchor; pulling me back into myself and helping me to understand that God was not weighing out my options in such a harsh way; He understands our struggles and just asks us to bring them to Him. No matter the choice, I had to stop and remember that I wasn’t doing this alone; I was doing this with God by my side, and it was now more that ever that I needed to lean in and trust that He was there to guide me along the way.

While I could finally start to accept that my decision wasn’t some sort of ideological test, I still struggled to reconcile my decision with my ego. I still quietly worried what others would think, and resented, resisted, and held shame towards my decision to seek both holistic and conventional care. God must have known my struggle, because his message came along right when I needed it most.

It was a weekday morning, I was headed to yet another diagnostic appointment, and I was cranky. I got in our passenger van (the one you kids lovingly refer to as ‘the bus’) and tried to connect my bluetooth, but the phone wouldn’t connect. Frustrated, I started punching through the FM stations hoping to listen to something that might put me in a good mood. Every time I reached a stopping point, I’d reach over and scan to the next station, grumbling about poor FM choices. The scanner landed on a station that was pure static, but as I needed both hands on the wheel, all I could do was frown, drive and wait. After a minute or so, a preacher’s words cut through the static, mid sermon. In his great booming voice he explained that he had been praying to God, praying ‘God give me this, take that, do this for me Lord, remove this’ and realized he had been praying wrong. He was trying to tell God what he needed or didn’t need, which isn’t how it worked. What he needed to do, and what he encouraged all his congregation to do, was to simply pray “God, make me willing to be willing. Make me willing to be willing.” Then the sermon got taken back over by the static, and was gone as quickly as it came.

I sat in awe, feeling a deep stirring in my heart as I realized those words were meant just for me. Instead of God sending me a sign that explicitly said ‘do this, not that’ or ‘you are on the right path’, he sent me a much larger lesson; I simply need to be willing to be willing. I need to let my ego die, and have a heart open and willing to it all.

I’ve must have cried countless times these last few months, but the tears I shed that day in our bus that day felt like what I imagine baptism waters feel like. I felt renewed, washed in understanding and love and grace. I felt the bitterness towards my care plan wash away, and felt my heart open. It was a beautiful moment that I think of daily through this season. That prayer has become my mantra through this time, and I think that my story is a small testament of His presence that He moves me to share with others.

I hope that if I haven’t already shared this story with you by now, you can lean on these words the way I have, and that it helps you to open up your heart to His presence, His process, and His love.

Make He make us all willing to be willing.

Sincerely,

Mom