Let's Go Camping!

                                                                                                                                          Rest Stop in Arizona

We did a thing last week. 


We loaded up our new (to us) F-350 and road-tripped it to Buckeye, AZ to pick up our new fifth wheel. A 2019 Grand Design Reflection 31MB to be exact. She's a beaut too, and we're working on a name!

Camping has been something our family has gotten increasingly excited about over the past three summers. We went from tent camping (a one-time, never again thing), to pop-up camping (great option for families w/out noisy Beagles), to our new fifth wheel. And in light of Lydia's cancer diagnosis, we've realized camping is something we want to lean more into, not pull away from. We love the simplicity of it all: the close-knit family times, the treasured memories, and now, the distraction from reality. 

As we were coming off our new camper high and pulling back into El Paso, we were hit with the reality of what awaited us in two days time . . . Lydia's post-radiation follow-up MRI. 

We were told explicably that it would take a full 8 weeks after radiation ended for her brain to heal from the treatments and receive the full benefits. If an MRI was done before that time-frame, things might look worse before they looked better. BUT, we were facing a big conundrum; a base-line MRI was required before Lydia could start her new immunotherapy drug that offered a lot of promise. We had to ask ourselves . . . do we wait the full 8 weeks and then do the baseline MRI, pushing back the start of the new drug or do we do the MRI earlier, knowing it might not provide accurate details, so she can start the drug ASAP? We decided on the latter, and felt she needed to be put on the new drug as soon as she could. 

Matt and I have been wrestling a lot with our emotions and reconciling them to God's truths.  And so, I think a lot of our "scanxiety (*)" was rooted in the knowledge of the reality of Lydia's prognosis but entangled with the hope of God's word. My faith feels messy right now.

To help me sort through the mess and stay rooted in hope, I have been reading a book that has become a lifeline in this season. It's called It's Not Suppose to be this Way ( https://www.p31bookstore.com/products/instbtw ) by Lysa TerKeurst. As I read her words, I stop and think to myself almost every chapter "is she in my head . . . this is crazy, this is exactly how I feel . . . Ok, now this is just creepy . . ." These are her own words that I swear could be mine:

• "Cancer is more than I can handle . . . on my own.
• I could feel my emotions starting to unravel and my resolve to trust God slipping. It was too much. I didn't want to keep trying so hard to trust God. I was tired of trying to make sense of this life that isn't supposed to be this way. 
• I woke up with panicked feelings. I walked around with panicked feelings. I went to bed with panicked feelings."

And the biggest nugget, forcing me to sit up straighter as I read it:

• "There's no part in my human brain that thinks cancer is fair for any precious person who receives this diagnosis. God didn't cause this potsherd (broken piece of pottery) reality in my life. It's the result of living in this broken world between two gardens."

And so when we realized we were called to document this season and share the ways God is working, it was of no surprise that Lysa's book inspired the name of our blog . . . Living Between Two Gardens. Having come to terms with the fact that Lydia may be called home much sooner than we would like, we now have this itch, this level of discontent with our current world more than ever before. We desire the coming day of Jesus's return. But in the meantime, we will do our best, with our eyes on God, to make the most of the time we have and to bring Him honor in every possible way. Even as we walk this insanely painful path that has been laid out before us. 

Now, full circle back to Lydia's MRI . . . as we were told to expect, there were no major changes. Swelling from radiation was still very evident, but no new growths. And to be fully honest, I was slightly disappointed. I had such hope and prayed bold prayers that even in light of the medical expectations of what her MRI would show, that He would throw a curve ball in there and poof! the tumor would show major shrinkage or heck, be GONE entirely. I had boldly assumed that my will would assuredly align with His will. And my timing with His timing. Boy, was the emotional low I sank into, upon realizing my unmet expectations, a doozy. 😣

Messy. Confusing. Blinding. 

I had completely missed God's blessing - NO NEW GROWTHS - because I was pissy that the answer to my prayers was apparently no. And because we trust our loving God and know He is using this season to prepare us, this is where I will leave you. No pretty little bow to tie it all up . . . just right in the middle of refinement process. 

But, we will say that we've got one heck of a camping expedition planned for this spring . . . DISNEYLAND, babyyyyyyyyy!

*Term coined by the fabulous, Renae Warbritton