It Is Well

While singing “It Is Well With My Soul” in church today, I was struck deep within by a truth I’ve always believed but maybe have not understood: it truly is well with my soul.  My recent diagnosis has made me cling to what this means and accept what it does not mean.  Jesus died for me not so I could have a chance to live a long, prosperous, healthy life on earth; he died for me so that when I accepted his gift, my soul became impenetrable to the scary things of this world—evil intentions, disease and even death. 

Paul said, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21).  Don’t get me wrong, I am not ready for that “gain” yet and I’m planning to fight like crazy to stay around.  But I think that it is important for me to remember that Jesus’ salvation and his promises do not guarantee me safety or health or healing.  Now, do I believe that God could choose to glorify himself by healing me completely?  Absolutely!  And do I pray that is how he will choose to use me?  You bet!  I would LOVE that:-)  I also believe, however, that he could choose to glorify himself as I battle it out with breast cancer.  After all, Paul wrote Philippians 1:21 from prison and ended up being martyred for his faith—and his writings and life are a huge arrow pointing directly to our heavenly father. 

I am not equating myself with Paul, but I am trying to follow his example.  I do not want my praise for my Lord or my faith in his power to waver when things get hard.  I have not mastered this by any means.  As I write this, I am desperately trying not to succumb to fear about my MRI results.  I do not want to become a cynic and give into the belief that the worst possible news is inevitable.  I want hope and joy to be my legacy, but I also want everyone to know that my hope and joy are centered on Christ and what he has done for me.  There is NOTHING I can do to make my cancer go away.  Whether God heals me miraculously, through medical intervention or not at all, He is the one who is in control.  This is so hard to accept as I desperately want to do something that will make a difference in the outcome: pray harder, believe stronger, prove myself more thoroughly somehow.  But accepting that I am in the hands of the One who sees the big, eternal picture is the only way to have it be well with my soul.

I say all this because in the last few days Ryan and I have been overwhelmed and humbled by all the love you all have shown us.  You have poured love and comfort over us as you have taken up our burden and lifted our family up in prayer.  But we have also been filled with compassion for those out there who do not have the comfort and assurance of Jesus’ salvation.  I know it is hard to accept that salvation through Jesus Christ does not come with the reassurance that things will turn out how we want them to on earth, but it does come with the promise that has been like water to my drowning spirit: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deut. 31:8).

May you all feel peace and comfort tonight whatever your circumstances are.  May you all be able to rest in the arms of the Lord who loves you desperately.  May it be well with your souls.

Me vs. Breast Cancer

I always tell my students not to start their papers or their speeches with disclaimers (“I wrote this late last night”, “I’m a terrible speaker”, “I had bad broccoli for lunch”, etc), but here are my disclaimers for this very overdue blog post: this is not polished, this is raw and this is not what I wish my first blog post in 5 months was about.  But here goes anyway:-)

The main purpose of this blog post is to update everyone and tell you how we’re all doing over here in the Littrell/Wehr clan.  First, I’ll list a few big things that have rocked us these last few days:

1. Yesterday, we found out that mom’s CA125 numbers jumped 1000 points, so they hurried her over to Medford to try a new treatment.
2. A few hours later I got a call from my doctor in Medford to tell me that the results from my breast biopsy on Monday show that I have breast cancer.
3. The surgeon suggested, and Ryan and I agreed, that I should have a double mastectomy.
4. This morning I started the sad—and necessarily quick—process of weaning my six-month-old from nursing.
5. I also went to Sky Lakes to get blood work done in preparation for my MRI this coming Monday, which made this all seem very real and started a full day of tears (still crying as I write this).

Phew!  That’s not fun to write.  The next steps for me are the MRI on Monday that will show if the cancer is anywhere else besides the two lumps they biopsied last Monday, a meeting with the surgeon on Tuesday and then planning a surgery.  The next steps for mom are hopefully to respond well to this new drug and start to push those scary numbers back down!

So how are we doing?  We’re very shaken up, and the thought “I can’t believe this is happening” has crossed my mind continuously today.  I am very sad, but so far not despairing.  My parents, brothers, gramma and sister-in-law are all reeling and yet being so sweet about everything we found out yesterday.  My friends are sad for us and very encouraging.  My amazing husband is shell-shocked and upset, but totally being my rock.  And my sweet boys are blissfully oblivious for now.  The many fabulous, loving people in my life have blessed my family and me enormously in the last 24 hours. 

Which leaves us to talk about cancer and this blog.  For now, I am going to use Everyday Glimpses and facebook as a way to update all of you, because it is efficient, of course, but also because I think it will still fit into the mission of the blog: to find and appreciate joy every day despite the circumstances.  Already, the outpouring of love I’ve received has given me more joy than I can express even as I experience a lot of sadness…and fear.

And fear is the last thing I want to talk about.  Throughout the cancer journey my family has been on, I have often felt palpable fear—the kind that makes me sick to my stomach and want to run away.  God has given me two verses that continually pull me out of fear’s arms.  Phil 4:8-9: “Finally brothers whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things…and the peace of God will be with you.”  The way I explain this to my boys when they have nightmares is the same way I use it in my own life: If I fill my mind with things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy, then there is only room for peace in my mind.  Not only does fear have no place there, but it cannot even take hold.  So I cling to these verses now.

Finally, some specific prayers:

• That the cancer is just in my breasts.  If the MRI shows that it’s contained in my breasts, then a double mastectomy will cure me, and we won’t have to take any further steps.
• That my family will feel a peace that passes understanding and a strength that can only come from God.
• That Mama’s new treatment will be the one that she’s needed all along!
• That the process to check my ovaries and the eventual surgery that will follow that as well will be smooth.
• And above all, praise to the Lord for the paths our lives have taken to lead to this point and prepare us for this next step and for all of the blessings that we see all around us.  My sweet love, Ryan, is going to speak more on this point in the following section.

Love you all!  Thank you for your prayers and encouragement!    

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A note from Ryan:

God has not brought me into the battle I felt best suited for, one with a tangible physical enemy I could hunt down and kill, guns blazing, fists swinging. Instead he has placed me in a battle with a faceless enemy, where physical strength and skill count for nothing. In this battle my role is to be God's representation of himself to Caityn on earth: to let her weep on me, to be stalwart and remind her of God's grace and presence.

So far many who have checked in on me have expected me to be angry about the struggle laid before us. Rightly so as I can have a temper and I am fiercely protective of my wife. For whatever reason that isn't where my emotions are. I'm sad. I don't want my wife to go through this and it doesn't make sense. When presented with hardship we can either curse God, ignore him or look at his blessing. As Caitlyn said, to find peace, we must cling to what is noble, pure and righteous.

So I began to think about all God had done to bring us here: the miracle of Christina's birth, a surprise to her mother nine years after her last child; the miracle of Caitlyn's birth despite Christina's heart-shaped womb, something doctors said should have made it impossible to conceive at all;  how God altered my path when I was about to join the Marines bringing me instead to George Fox University weeks before 9/11, where I met and fell in love with Caitlyn;  the surprise of our first son, much sooner than we planned, causing us to have our next two sons sooner than planned, which meant Caitlyn was able to nurse our newest baby for the prescribed six month term ending just as we got the news of breast cancer;  not only that, since God brought Liam to us ahead of our timeline, therefore speeding up the whole family expanding process, we were able to have three beautiful boys right before we have to face the reality that Caitlyn cannot have any more children; and finally the breast lump that was only discovered early because of Christina's fight with cancer.  Without knowing everything we know from Christina's experience, the lumps Caitlyn found in her body could have been ignored for years as the cancer quietly grew inside.

God has been with us, he has had his hand on us and will never let us go. He will be faithful to complete the work he began.

I look at my sweet wife and am amazed. Great trials and tribulation have forged this beautiful and joyous woman - truly fearfully and wonderfully made.

New Names

I was really excited to change my last name on my wedding day.  It wasn’t because I couldn’t wait to get rid of my maiden name (even though many people had laughed as they cleverly called me Caitlyn Weird instead of Caitlyn Wehr).  No, I liked my maiden name, because it tied me to my family, but changing my name to Caitlyn Littrell represented a whole new identity to me—one I was eager to embrace.  It was an identity that would unite me with my love and create new opportunities for exploration and family.  I also took nerdy-word-lover-joy in the fact that Littrell means “that which is written,” since I love words and stories. 

Being Caitlyn Littrell has been an adventure I could never have imagined on my wedding day.  Oh, I tried to picture my future and there were definitely little invented home movies of all my hopes dancing through my head as I married Ryan, but I couldn’t understand the enormity of joy, romance, choices, growing-pains, challenges, failures and triumphs that would come with my new name, my new life.  On my wedding day—my transformation day—I began a life in which I would learn how hard and how rewarding trying to love someone selflessly can be, I began a life in which I would get to create and bring three boys into the word, and I began a life in which I have a partner in everything life presents to me.  What a wonder this new name has been!

Of course, name changes are not new or unique to me.  God often changed peoples’ names in the Bible.  Each time he did this, the person took on a new identity—one that took what they had been and enhanced it to further bring glory to God.  God changed Abram and Sarai into Abraham and Sarah, making them the Father and Mother of nations (Genesis 17:5-16).  God literally wrestled for a full night with Jacob, changing his name to Israel and blessing him in the morning (Genesis 32:22).  Jesus changed Simon to Peter, since Peter means rock, and he became the foundation of the church under the new covenant of salvation.

In all these examples, God gave people a new name that brought responsibility, challenge and pain.  Abraham was faced with sacrificing his son, Israel’s favorite son was sold into slavery and his whole family faced famine, and Peter lived much of his life as a fugitive and was eventually martyred for his faith.  But each of them also ended up living full lives of joy as well.  Abraham and Sarah miraculously had a son in their old age.  Sarah said, “God has brought me laughter, and everyone who hears about this will laugh with me” (Genesis 21:6).  Israel was reunited with his lost son Joseph and died a happy old man surrounded by his entire family of seventy people (Genesis 46:27 and 49:29-33).  Peter got to lead the early church and experience God’s power in full force.  He witnessed 3000 people giving their lives to Christ at Pentecost (Acts 2:41) and then went on to write some of the most encouraging words about joy:  “Though you have not seen [Jesus], you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls” (1 Peter 1:8-9).  Their name changes enhanced their lives, brought new adventure and infused their days with laughter and joy.

While actual name changes outside of marriage are not as frequent today, our descriptors are often fluid and changing.  My list of descriptors for myself would be something like: Lover of Jesus, wife, mama, daughter, sister, friend and teacher.  Besides the blessed descriptor of being my parents’ daughter, each role has been added throughout my life since birth, bringing new adventure, challenge, joy and sometimes pain.  Most recently I added working mother of THREE to my list as I returned to work this last week.  This week has brought with it a few toddler-like tantrums (me), missed naps (me) and bouts of weeping (once again, me).  But I have also experienced the joy of seeing my boys’ faces light up when I come to pick them up, the fun that comes from interacting with my students and the feeling of purpose I have when I tackle my wonderful job.

So I pray that we will let God use whatever descriptors make us who we are to work together to bring us “inexpressible and glorious joy.”  I pray that we will not shy away from the descriptors God asks us to embrace or let go, and that we will know our most important name: children of God.

“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1