You Don't Have to Come Back

A few weeks ago, I had a routine 6-month check with my Leukemia Doctor who has managed my case. After the blood work came back, he said this with a smile... Everything looks great, blood counts are terrific, there is no trace of Leukemia. And then he said this...You made it, you made it to the 5-year milestone. You don't have to come back, unless you want to. If it was going to come back, it would have come back by now--it was that aggressive. In 10 years, I've never heard those words... you don't have to come back. It's always been 1-month, 3-month, 6-month checks for 10 years. Each time collecting several vials to do a deep/complete panel of my blood. 500+ needle pokes in my arm over 10 years. I never made it to 5 years. A relapse one year later after the original diagnosis (2010) when in 2011 I had to have a bone marrow transplant. Then another re-lapse with Leukemia four years later in the form of a solid tumor in the brain (2015). I was on the edge and could almost feel the 5-year mark back then, but it was not to be. But today it is. No more needle pokes, MRIs, appointments. 

The words, you don’t have to come back, reminded me of the invalid in Bethesda who was given words, by Jesus, to release him. This is the man who had been this way for 38 years. He could never find healing for his condition because he could not get into the healing waters at Bethesda—no one was there to help him into the pool. He moved too slowly by himself and someone else would get in ahead of him. Until Jesus came, and said these words…

“Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” (John 5: 8)

Instantly the man was healed and picked up his mat and walked away. In my journey through Leukemia I was not healed instantly like this man. In many ways, you can say I’ve been healed three times—each time, each re-lapse, the diagnosis looked dark. But there was a rescue each time. And now, with these words from my doctor, you don’t have to come back, the rescue is final. 

I have a lot to be grateful for. And I’ve come to this conclusion…When you focus on what you have vs. what you don't have, you are graced with an amazing heart of gratitude. I'm grateful to be alive

Amazed by His Love,

Terence 

5 Years: Impossible to Possible

I think this day will always be seared into my mind…July 29, 2015. That is when I went in for surgery to remove what was thought to be a benign brain tumor. Something that was supposed to take about four hours. My family waited nine hours, and Debbie especially sensed there was something more going on with this tumor. It would be several days later, while in ICU, that we would get the crushing news about this tumor. I remember my neurosurgeon walking in. I expected to see him. What I didn’t expect to see was my Leukemia doctor and a neuro-oncologist. And then I remember my neurosurgeon saying… “Mr. Andre, we got the results back from the biopsy of the tumor. In the tumor we found Leukemia cells—the same Leukemia type that you have had previously.” Looking at the faces of those three doctors, I could tell this was a serious moment. The one where you feel that they are telling you that there may not be much of a chance. My Leukemia doctor went on to explain to me the seriousness of this tumor. Leukemia is a blood cancer. When it returns in the form of a solid tumor it is bad news. And when it returns as a solid tumor, in the brain, that is catastrophic news. Only 5-6 cases are reported in the world each year, and none of them survive, he explained. There is no standard protocol for it. 

Instead of being out of the hospital in a few days, I was headed back for more chemo (into my spinal fluid, to wash my brain with chemo in a long-shot attempt to wipe out any remaining Leukemia cells) and twelve radiation treatments to try and remove any traces of the tumor. More days and weeks in the hospital ahead. It felt like our world collapsed and that this was likely the final round in my long journey with Leukemia, a round that would likely not end in victory. 

After all these years, my hope took a hit. I thought back to 2011 when I re-lapsed, but a stem-cell transplant from my sister (a perfect match) saved my life. And it looked like it did the reset I needed. My doctors had told me about the “5-year milestone” – that’s a marker you can look forward to in recovery from cancer and likely complete remission. And here I was on the edge of that milestone—I had made it four years since transplant. I could see the edge of victory coming—one more year and I would be clear. I was so close, but it was not to be. 

But today, five years, is a milestone I had never reached before. I had always re-lapsed—after one year in 2011 and four years in 2015. But 2020 would be the five-year milestone. In my last appointment with my Leukemia doctor (the same one who said… “5-6 cases and none of them survive”) said this…I am happy to see you in 2020. We didn’t have much hope for you back in 2015. And then he said this…if the tumor was going to come back, it would have come back by now. Instead of seeing him every few months, I will only see him once every year for a few more years. And no need to have any more MRI brain scans. 

Hearing him say that reminded me of a scripture I have read 100s of times. It is in Matthew 19:26:

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

God makes the Impossible POSSIBLE. 

My journey is evidence of that. Yes, the journey has taken a toll on me, and my family. There are some cognitive/mental health hits from all the trauma to my brain. But I am here. I work at a great company (TiER1 Performance) and I’m not disabled—I can do the job I always wanted to do in leading research. I am enjoying three grandchildren from our daughter/son-in-law with #4 coming in two months. My oldest son is a pilot in the Air Force, flying NATO missions, And I get to see my youngest son grow up and pursue his dreams. 

This song by our friend and worship leader, Jared Anderson (Impossible Possible) is the story of the last five years…Jesus makes the Impossible Possible. Enjoy it here. 

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

He's in the Waiting

There is a lot of waiting in our world right now. Waiting…why is it both so frustrating during the waiting and also rewarding when the waiting is over? Especially now, during a world-wide pandemic, the waiting for things to return to normal seems so long and unknown. Frustrating because we live in a world of “I want it now.” A world where you can get what you want delivered the next day (like Amazon Prime). Even in a few minutes with food delivery (like DoorDash), or instantly with Netflix. We are ok waiting minutes, hours, or even a few days for something we really want. But…weeks, months, years—that is hard. We are not used to waiting that long.

Waiting is rewarding? Haven’t you felt the exhilaration when you have waited such a long time for something, and it is finally here? Saving your dollars for something really big and the day finally comes when you are able to buy it. Years of saving for that special vacation on your bucket list, and you are able to pull it off, and then bask in the memories of that trip years later.

So, here is the question that comes to mind: Is there good that comes out of the waiting? From a biblical perspective, the answer is a resounding YES. It would be too long to cover every aspect in the bible where Waiting and Strength seem to go together. Isaiah 40:31 is a good place to start:

Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.

And Psalm 27:14:

Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.

What is it about waiting that develops strength? I think it builds strength, in part, because waiting moves us away from self-reliance and toward dependence on God. Our waiting on God is not an unknown waiting, like the situation we are in right now. Yes, it does involve the passage of time. But it is a waiting with expectation, as the psalmist tells us in Psalm 130: 5-6:

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.

The psalmist compares waiting expectantly on the Lord to the night guards of the city who watched the passage of time in anticipation of the coming dawn when they would be released from duty. The sunrise, the coming of dawn, is a certainty, but it does involve the passage of time, waiting.

Someone once told me, “At the beginning of the test faith is challenged.  At the end of the test faith is rewarded.  But in the middle of the test faith is strengthened.” There is that word again—strength. I love the way The Message version puts it in James 1:2-5 (The Message version):

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought.

We all want the pandemic and the stay-at-home orders to end. The sooner the better. In this situation, and any situation of waiting, be careful about getting out of something too early, before it has done its full work of maturity in you. Maybe that waiting is there to grow something in you, to prepare you for some other difficult situation, and so you can experience the reward of perseverance, of waiting. I love the song, Take Courage, by Kristene DiMarco that came out a few years ago. Here is just the chorus of that song:

Take courage my heart

Stay steadfast my soul

He's in the waiting

He's in the waiting

Listen to the full song here: Take Courage. He’s in the waiting. Hold onto your hope—the reward of your waiting is coming.

Amazed by His Love,


Terence

The Contrast Will Reward Your Hope (or the joy of Chili’s Chips & Salsa)

As we continue into the third week of orders to “stay home” and many more weeks of lockdown to come, it made me wonder…when was the last time I felt like this? Felt that I was locked down from enjoying even a simple meal at a favorite restaurant. Locked down from going almost anywhere. Locked down from being around anyone who was sick. And my mind flashed back to March 30, 2010 (exactly 10 years ago today). A week earlier (March 23), I was released from the hospital after a month-long stay. During that hospital stay, everything was taken away from me. I couldn’t leave that room. My food had to be specifically ordered from a limited menu and prepared, brought in with plastic wrap over the tray. Fruit (like oranges and apples) had to be carefully washed so there was no chance the skin of the fruit would introduce a disease. Visitors had to wear masks when they came in. Why? Because to wipe out Leukemia with a very intense chemo treatment, that chemo treatment also wiped out my red blood cells, platelets, AND white blood cells. Our white blood cells carry our immunities, and I had nothing—no immune system for about seven days after the last chemo treatment. The white blood cells are the last to recover when they have been wiped out, and it typically took seven days each time after chemo treatment.

It was during this time in the hospital, when everything was taken away, that I really began craving the things I couldn’t have. At the top of the list was Chili’s Chips & Salsa. I love that stuff. I don’t know what they put in their salsa, but it is addictive, at least for me. But at that time, I couldn’t have it—it was made with fresh ingredients that had the potential to be life threatening to my compromised immune system. After being released, I was cautioned about going anywhere, especially to a restaurant, and absolutely NO open buffets/salad bars. And so, I had this pent-up demand for Chili’s Chips & Salsa after those thirty days in the hospital. I could not get it out of my mind. I remember thinking… If I could just get a taste of that chips and salsa, I would feel SO much better—it would bring my appetite back. The focus on it was so out of control and my family even made light fun of my insatiable desire.

Back to March 30. A week after being released from the hospital and a test showing my white blood cells were nearly recovered (actually what is called your neutrophil count), I couldn’t help but tell Debbie…we have to go to Chili’s, TONIGHT!  And so, we did. Debbie made sure we were at an isolated table and told our server that my food needed to be extra hot to kill any germs. And we had plenty of hand sanitizer and wipes with us to make sure everything was clean. You can see the picture of that moment, and a table tent showing the Final Four was going on at that time (it was not shut down like now, just I was shut down). And there, that evening on March 30th, I enjoyed the most amazing experience with Chili’s Chips & Salsa! To this day it stands as the most stunning contrast between being locked down and then set free (smile). The warmth of my heart was noticeable and I could tell I was enjoying a meal like I never had before. I will never forget that experience. And it taught me this…Don’t give up hope. Let hope continue to build a nest in your heart during this time. Hope that there will be a new day to all of this. That, one day (likely several weeks away), the hope in your heart will sprout wings and will fly away, and you will experience the amazing contrast of what you are feeling now and the incredible joy of experiencing something as simple as…Chili’s Chips & Salsa. It will be amazing!

but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

Do the Next Thing

Some people have heard my story of battling Leukemia and these facts: 2010 initial treatment, 2011 re-lapse and bone marrow transplant, 2015 comes back a 3rd time in the form of a brain tumor. 160 total nights in a hospital, 55 blood transfusions, countless chemo treatments, and chemo in my spinal fluid that washed through my brain. Even as I write these facts, it seems a bit overwhelming. In fact, it’s hard to believe these facts are about ME. As friends, colleagues, and classmates process these facts, I’ve heard a few of them say something like…Man, you must be incredibly resilient.

When I hear people say this, I have to say that I don’t see myself as resilient—it’s inflated esteem for what I went through. I hated every treatment, medical procedure, and hitting bottom after chemo. I hated going back to the hospital every time it came back, knowing there were weeks and months of recovery ahead. To be honest, I wanted to run away…I wanted out!

All of this made me look at the definition of Resilience. Merriam-Webster defines it as: an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change.

I guess that is an acceptable definition. Yes, I did recover from all that I faced, and I’m grateful to be alive. I would not say I “adjusted easily” though.

So, when I look back, the theme that seems to define my journey is this: Just Do the Next Thing. I got that theme from an early conversation with one of my doctors. I was trying to take in all that was ahead of me, what each test would involve, how long it would take me to recover, what would happen after that, and after that, etc. Then he said something like…Just take each day and each procedure as they come. Everyone’s situation is unique. You are not a stat. Your recovery will likely be very different than the next patient.

After that conversation, I then started focusing on just taking on the next thing. Not trying to take on what would happen over the next weeks and months. Just get through it. Just Do the Next Thing. And it has become the definition of “resilience” that works for me. I think back to my days at the Air Force Academy as a cadet. That first summer of basic cadet training. It could be overwhelming to think how any of us were going to make it through six weeks of the intense training and challenges ahead. And I remember a big build up to each obstacle course, like the Assault Course. The fear and anxiety could be crippling. I remember thinking this…I just need to get through this course. Thousands have come before me to do this and thousands will come after me.

This approach seems appropriate for the COVID-19 crisis we are experiencing now. It can be normal to try and take on what the next weeks and months will be like. What sacrifices will have to be made. The “pain” of extreme changes to our lifestyle during this season. Those thoughts can be overwhelming, and we might wonder how we will get to the other side of this season. In that context, I’m reminded of this verse from Philippians:

I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back (Philippians 3:14, The Message).

And I’m reminded of this encouragement from Jeremiah to be planted, to have deep roots in times of crisis:

But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They’re like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers—Never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season (Jeremiah 17: 7-8, The Message).

You don’t have to be overwhelmed, to figure out what every future day, week, or month will look like. Just try this: Do the Next Thing and keep moving. You will get to the other side.

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

A Decade

Ten years ago, on this day, we got the call that changed our lives forever. "Mr Andre, we do not make these calls unless we see something concerning in your blood biopsy. You have Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) and you need to get to the hospital tomorrow to start treatment." We didn't know at that time (and glad we didn't) that I would spend 100 nights in the hospital that year and another 60 in the years to come. Never did we imagine that I would battle this disease for nearly a decade, a re-lapse requiring a bone marrow transplant a year later in 2011. Then Leukemia returning a third time in 2015 in the form of a tennis ball-sized tumor in the brain and that I would be given nearly zero chance to survive more than a year.

I am grateful for having a decade that was never promised and looked very dark for many years. Only a few people close to us know this part of the story, and it is a great tribute to the company  that I work for (TiER1 Performance). About a week into my hospital stay a large box was delivered to my room from TiER1. Inside the box were several packages of lemon drops (to help diminish the "after chemo taste"), a Kentucky Wildcats fleece blanket (March Madness was coming up and UK was positioned as one of the top 4 seeds), a portable Sony DVD player, and 25 DVDs with a note from each TiER1er on why it was their favorite movie and why they wanted to send my way. Our children were 20, 17, and 3 at the time. They thought it was Christmas all over again as I watched them open that box. And I was wondering what they were thinking with those smiles...wow, this is pretty cool that Dad is in the hospital, we get to watch all these movies (smile). I would soon discover that those movies (and notes) were a source of refuge for me in the many lonely nights ahead. Our children are now 30, 27, and 13. Two of them are now married (not the 13-year old--smile) with three grandchildren.

There were many times we wondered if I would ever be here 10 years later to see all this. To walk my only daughter down the aisle to be married, watch my oldest son graduate from the AF Academy and shake the Vice President's hand, see my youngest son grow up to be an amazing young man, and play with some of the cutest grandkids you will ever meet (smile). I'm beyond grateful for all that we have and all the lessons I learned this past Decade—lessons that could only be learned in very difficult places. And the DVD player is still going...and so am I.


This morning, Debbie and I were reflecting on those first few weeks and months of my treatment. We remember during my stay in the hospital that Darwin and Cindy Speicher visited me. Darwin was our Music Pastor in Sacramento during our high school years. At the end of our beautiful conversation, they prayed for me, ending with these words…”this is not Terence’s time to go.” Those words stuck with me and as I was later reading through the Old Testament, I came across 2 Kings 20 about Hezekiah. Hezekiah became ill and was near death. Isaiah
was with Hezekiah and heard from God to go and tell Hezekiah this:

This is what the Lord, the God of your father David, says: I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you. On the third day from now you will go up to the temple of the Lord. I will add fifteen years to your life. (2 Kings 20: 5-6a)

With that scripture and what Darwin and Cindy prayed, I remember praying these words one evening…Lord, give me ten more years. Let me see my daughter get married, to watch Brian graduate from the AF Academy, and to watch
Zachary grow up into a young man. We didn’t
know what the next 10 years would look like. I wasn’t healed instantly, but I have been given those 10 years and more. I am grateful for God’s enduring mercy, faithfulness, and amazing love for me.

For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations (Psalm 100:5)

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

Joy to the World

I recently heard a podcast on Christmas and the traditional songs we sing at church during this season. On the podcast, the author suggested we can often sing these songs without really digging deep into the words. Many of these songs were written by the great hymn writers of 200 years ago, or even much longer. The words are powerful, but I often sing them without really taking in the deep meaning. So, I decided to do that with one of my favorite songs of Christmas, “Joy to the World.”

In my research, I found that this hymn was written exactly 300 years ago (in 1719) by Issac Watts. I also discovered that Watts based most of the song on Psalm 98, especially verses 4-9:

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; make music to the Lord with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn—shout for joy before the Lord, the King. Let the sea resound, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it. Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy; let them sing before the Lord, for he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples with equity.

I am sure you know the song, or can look up all the lyrics. These lines were the ones that resonated with me as I read through them:

Joy to the world! the Lord is come;

And heaven and nature sing,

Repeat the sounding joy

The glories of His righteousness,

And wonders of His love

On the morning I was doing this research on this song, this is how the sunrise looked from our backyard. That beautiful sunrise seemed to proclaim, Joy to the world. It was as if Heaven and Nature were singing. It also seemed to proclaim, And wonders of His love. Seeing a sunrise like that has so much wonder to it. And it seems to bring Heaven and nature together.

I enjoyed the process of digging into one of the great hymns of Christmas. And in doing that, saw the beauty of God’s message of bringing Joy to the World in a picture-perfect sunrise. And then thought of these words from Psalm 30:5: Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. That is what I saw in this sunrise… Joy came in the morning.

I encourage you to look up the history behind one of your favorite hymns of the Christmas season. Dig into the deep meaning of each line. And do it in a place of beauty. It may just warm your heart and give you new insight into the song you have not seen before.


Amazed by His Love,

Terence

What Do You Do With Zero Chance?

What do you do with zero chance? What do you do with impossible odds, when everything is against you winning, when it is just easier to accept your reality? That’s where I was four years ago today. An unknown brain tumor, a 9-hour surgery to remove it, and weeks in the hospital to recover. Doctors believed the original scan showed a meningioma—a tumor that forms on membranes that cover the brain just inside the skull. And most meningiomas are benign (not cancerous). A few days after surgery, while recovering in ICU, my neurosurgeon walked in. That was not unusual to see him. What was unusual were the doctors who were with him—my Leukemia doctor and a few other specialists I didn’t recognize. I knew something wasn’t right for my Leukemia doctor to be there. My neurosurgeon began, “Mr. Andre, we got the results back from the biopsy of the tumor. In the tumor we found Leukemia cells—the same Leukemia type that you have had previously. We will be transferring you to the blood cancer unit—the same unit you were in for stem cell transplant in 2011.” At that moment, my world dropped. How could Leukemia come back after having a stem cell transplant in 2011? My Leukemia doctor would later explain that he theorized a few cells hid away during transplant and radiation in 2011, crossed the blood-brain barrier into my spinal fluid, and created the tumor that likely took years to develop between 2011 and 2015.

Once I was transferred to the blood cancer unit, my Leukemia doctor returned with a few other specialists—a neuro oncologist and radiation specialist. My Leukemia doctor went on to explain to me the seriousness of this tumor. Leukemia is a blood cancer. When it returns in the form of a solid tumor it is bad news. And when it returns as a solid tumor, in the brain, that is catastrophic news. Only 5-6 cases are reported in the world each year, and none of them turn out well, he explained. There is no standard protocol for it. I remember the next conversation he had with me. He said, “We have researched possible treatments for this and found a journal article out of China that provides an approach we may follow. It is a ‘shoot the moon’ approach and we don’t know if it will work for you. It will involve 12 treatments of radiation to your brain and chemo inserted into your spinal fluid. The odds are against you surviving long term as these types of tumors typically re-occur very quickly and there is nothing we can do if that happens.” He never said these words, but I could tell that he was giving me “zero chance” to survive. It could not get any darker than it was at that moment for me, and for my family.

What do you do with that? What do you do with anything where the odds are against you, where the chance of success is so small you wonder if it is even worth trying? The reality is you have two options: (1) Give up and accept defeat, or (2) Believe God can come through, despite the odds against you. Where would we be if these people would have given up because of the odds against them: Albert Einstein (didn’t speak for first three years of his life), Benjamin Franklin (parents could only afford to keep him in school until his tenth birthday), Stephen King (his first novel was rejected 30 times), and Thomas Edison (failed at least 1,000 times before creating the light bulb).

I love how Jesus handles “zero chance” situations:

Jesus looked hard at them and said, “No chance at all if you think you can pull it off yourself. Every chance in the world if you trust God to do it.” (Matthew 19:26, Message version)

What are you up against? Does it look impossible? Are you willing to trust God and to keep moving forward, despite the odds against you? That’s how you give yourself the chance to experience great victories.

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

3285 for the Better

9 years ago on this date, we got a call that changed our lives for the worse…and for the better. “Mr. Andre, we don’t make these calls unless we see something serious in your bone marrow biopsy. You have Acute Myeloid Leukemia and will need to check into the hospital tomorrow. Plan on being there for about a month.” Our world dropped in front of our eyes. In an instant, all of our future plans were called off.

What is 3285? That is 9 years x 365 days. None of those days were promised. And it would get worse, and better, and worse, and better. A relapse a year later requiring a bone marrow transplant. Another relapse 4 years after transplant—Leukemia returning in the form of a solid tumor in the brain. A “shoot the moon” treatment plan. ICU. 160 total nights in the hospital over that period. 45 blood transfusions. 55 platelet transfusions. 

Everything looked dim. But it didn’t stay dim. I was never promised 3285 days, but that is what I have. Every one of those days is a bonus, never promised. It was the worst. There were times I hated it. And times when I wanted to give up. It was extremely hard on my family to watch me suffer. What is the better? I walked my daughter (Jennifer) down the aisle to see her get married. I watched my oldest son (Brian) walk across the stage at the Air Force Academy and shake the Vice President’s hand, and also get married. My youngest son (Zachary, 3 at the time) is now 12. And I now get to see three new humans who Debbie and I call our grandchildren (smile). This recent picture of our family—it was never promised I would see that. It looked dim. But it is here. 

Can there be “better” that comes out of pain? 2 Corinthians 1: 8-10 tells us there can be. I love how The Message Version puts it:

We don’t want you in the dark, friends, about how hard it was when all this came down on us in Asia province. It was so bad we didn’t think we were going to make it. We felt like we’d been sent to death row, that it was all over for us. As it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened. Instead of trusting in our own strength or wits to get out of it, we were forced to trust God totally—not a bad idea since he’s the God who raises the dead! And he did it, rescued us from certain doom. And he’ll do it again, rescuing us as many times as we need rescuing.

God has rescued me from certain death. In the valley of the shadow of death, I received the gift of Jesus. It has been for the worse, and it has been for the better. 

The gift of better: When you focus on what you have vs. what you don’t have, you are blessed with a generous spirit of gratitude. I’m grateful to be alive. To have had 3285 days that were never promised. I’m alive—I’m not disabled. I work at an amazing company (TiER1 Performance Solutions) who has supported me every step of the journey. Every day has been a BONUS…for the better. 

Nobody Comes Back

A few weeks ago, I went back to Penrose Hospital where I spent a total of 100 nights in 2010 and 2011.  I wasn’t going back because I was sick (Praise God). I was going back to drop off a copy of my story, Amazed by His Love. I wasn’t sure who I would find there on the 11th floor of Penrose. It had been almost 8 years since I was last treated for leukemia there. My primary nurse back then was Carolyn and I was hoping she was still around. I asked at the front desk if Nurse Carolyn was still there. The assistant at the desk smiled and said, “Yes, she is still here. She is now the Charge Nurse here on the 11th floor. And she is here today. I’ll go get her.” 

A few minutes later, Carolyn came up to the front desk to meet me. She recognized me right away and we started recounting the memories of my various stays there on the 11th floor of Penrose. I was amazed at how much she remembered about me and Debbie. She asked why I was there that day. I told Carolyn that I wrote a book on my journey through leukemia and wanted to leave a copy for her. I signed it and handed her a copy of the book, and also expressed my thanks to her and her staff for the great care they gave me back in 2010 and 2011. She couldn’t believe I had written a book on my story and that my stay at Penrose was a significant part of the story. In fact, the cover of the book is a silhouette of me in front of one of the windows in a room on the 11th floor, looking out at Pikes Peak. She was so grateful to hear that I was doing well and that I had given her a copy of the book. At that time, I only had one copy of the book with me. I was going to make some minor changes to one of the chapters (with Kindle Direct Publishing from Amazon, it’s easy to make changes, upload a new version, and that version is what will be printed next when someone orders. All part of the “print on demand” publishing style these days). 

I felt bad that I only had one copy. I told Carolyn that I was making some edits and that I would have some more copies in a couple of weeks. And I told her that I would bring a few more copies for other nurses who were still there. She was happy to hear that. 

I did make those edits, ordered some more copies, and a couple weeks later went back to Penrose. I had Carolyn’s contact information and arranged to meet her again there on the 11th floor. Carolyn was at the front desk when I came off the elevator. I handed her a couple more copies. And then she shared an emotional story with me. She said that they have a staff meeting each week and each person takes their turn at giving a reflection. Penrose is a Catholic Hospital and a spiritual component is a significant part of their service and care for patients. Carolyn shared that the week before was her turn to lead the reflection. She brought in the copy of my book and also her iPad. At the beginning of the staff meeting, she played Jared Anderson’s song, Amazed. And then she read Jared’s story behind that song which is written as the Afterword at the back of the book. She finished with recounting the memories of my stay at Penrose and that I had written this book, with the Penrose view on the front cover. Carolyn then looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “the room was filled with emotion and deep appreciation for the song and the story.” Then Carolyn said something I will never forget. She said, “nobody comes back.” I was taken back by that statement and asked her what she meant. She went on to explain that the 11th floor is the Oncology floor and there are a lot of critically ill patients there. Many people don’t make it. And if they do make it, they don’t want to come back. They don’t want to come back to a place where they experienced chemo and pain. Carolyn then told me that to have someone come back, and to come back with a story of their journey, meant so much to the medical staff there at Penrose. They were deeply impacted by it. 

In that moment of talking with Carolyn, I realized how much these health care workers selflessly provide their life-giving skills every day, often without much thanks from the patient or family members. In fact, they probably hear more complaints than they do of thanks. And I could see the deep impact it made by just saying encouraging words like, “Thank you. I appreciate the care you gave to me. Your talents and skills are valued.” No, you don’t have to write a book to make this kind of impact (smile). It can be done in very small ways. Just saying thank you. Even returning at a later point to shake their hand or give them a hug. Dropping off a card of thanks for the nurses. Or even flowers/chocolates. You can’t imagine what this kind of encouragement and thanks will mean to the medical team. If you or a loved one has been served well by health care providers, try this out and you will experience the overwhelming sense of gratitude they respond with. Be the someone who does come back…to say thank you. 

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

Work Saved My Life

Work saved your life? Really? I am here to say it really did and I can share my story on how I reached that conclusion.

I battled leukemia in 2010 (original diagnosis) and 2011 (relapse and bone marrow transplant). Then, in 2015, leukemia returned in the form of a solid tumor in the brain—the size of an orange. I went through a long, 9-hour surgery to remove the tumor followed by several treatments of chemo and radiation to ensure all of the tumor was gone. My life was saved, but I was left physically, mentally, and emotionally weak. I slept most of the day and any physical activity (e.g., walking up 5 or 6 stairs) wiped me out.

The recovery was long and difficult. It took at least 3 months before I felt any energy to work. But I wanted to work. I had a drive to get back to work. But I knew I had limitations. I wondered if I could do my job as Chief Scientist at TiER1 Performance Solutions—a very brain intensive job. And I had a decision to make: Should I take long-term disability and forget about trying to work?

I struggled with that decision. I had a drive to get back to work, but I knew that I would not be able to just turn it back on and be at my former level of productivity and contribution. The easy choice was to just take the long-term disability and stay in bed, to rest. But this thought hit me: What would I do all day? I would not be creating value. I would not have a purpose. I would not be coaching and leading a team. I would not be learning. In my heart I could feel this thought: If you take long-term disability, you are probably not going to live. I don’t know where that came from, but it was the most present thought I had. And I knew it to be true. I couldn’t take long-term disability, even though that sounded like a gift. I had to find a way to get back to work. And so, I started on that path, working at a slow pace and building up to full-time over several months.

It is now 3 years later and I’ve seen the wonderful benefits of fighting to get back to work. There are some cognitive limitations (e.g., short-term memory loss) due to the surgery and radiation treatments, but I (and my wife) probably notice that the most. Those limitations may not be as obvious to others who don’t see me on a daily basis. And I’ve been able to “win” at work—leading a research team who continues to grow and do significant and meaningful work for the federal government.

I’ve had several follow-up appointments with my neurosurgeon over the past 3 years. During a recent appointment, he paused, looked at me with caring eyes, and said this: “Work saved your life.” I asked him what he meant by that. He explained to me that the damage to my brain from surgery and radiation is similar to the damage to a muscle. It needs to be exercised in order to heal and reconstruct new pathways. He told me that lying in bed—doing nothing, not thinking, having no purpose—would slowly starve my brain of the needed ingredients to heal. And then he said, “You likely would have died if you had made that choice.”

We know this. God designed humanity to work from the beginning. We work because our Creator works, and we’re made in his image, to reflect him. Genesis 2:15 tells us that “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” Work is a gift from God, not a curse. I love what the Holman Bible Dictionary says about work: “God has infused the act of work with meaning and divine significance, enjoining upon humans an obligation to engage in work even as God works.” 

Ecclesiastes reinforces that work has genuine value. “So I decided there is nothing better than to enjoy food and drink and to find satisfaction in work. Then I realized that these pleasures are from the hand of God.” (Ecclesiastes 2:24, NLT). And probably the most recognized scripture on work is from Colossians: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” (Colossians 3:23-24, NIV). When we view our work as a gift from God and that our ultimate purpose is glorying Him in our work, we then find the most meaning in our work.

Meaningful work is really important. I’m glad I fought my way back. I’m grateful to be in a place where I can find meaningful work. It truly saved my life.

Amazed by His love,

Terence

Work and Rest

I’ve been on a 3-month sabbatical from work. It is the first time, outside of a hospital bed, that I have turned off work and focused on the four Rs of sabbatical: Rest, Recover, Reflect, and Refocus. I didn’t know how to rest. It’s not something you learn in school and you don’t see webinars advertising “Discover How to Rest.” So, one of the first things I did at the beginning of my sabbatical was to read a few books on Rest. I asked some friends and leaders who had been on a sabbatical to give their recommendations on books to read. One friend recommended a book titled, Buy a Cabin: The Theology and Practice of Rest. So, I ordered the book and it was the first one I read. I’m glad I did. And I found out that the author, Robert Franck, lived here in Colorado Springs. Through my friend, I reached out to Robert and we connected over a cup of coffee after I had already read the book. It was encouraging to put a face on this author who, from my perspective, nailed it in terms of describing the difference between work and rest.

Robert Franck begins his book by using the first occurrence of rest in the Bible – Genesis 2:2-3.

By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done. (Genesis 2:2-3, NIV)

Not only do these verses contain the first use of the word rest in the Bible, they also contain the first use of the word work. God worked and then he rested.

Franck defines work as “Activities that provide for your needs, your family’s needs, and the needs of others.” And he defines rest as “Activities that refresh you after your work.” Those definitions really helped me. I had a misconception about rest. The image is lying in a hammock and doing nothing. Now, that actually can be rest, but I discovered it is too narrow of a concept and certainly does not apply to everyone. Robert Franck brings in the example of Winston Churchill as one who knew how to rest well. Many regard Winston Churchill as one of the most productive workers in history and a great leader in a time of extreme stress in the World. One of the many books Churchill wrote is titled Painting as a Pastime. Churchill’s insight into rejuvenating rest is from his own words in this book:

Many remedies are suggested for the avoidance of worry and overstrain by persons who, over prolonged periods, have to bear exceptional responsibilities and discharge duties upon a very large scale. Some advise exercise, and others repose. Some counsel travel, and others, retreat. Some praise solitude, and other gaiety. No doubt all these may play their part according to individual temperament. But the element which is constant and common in all of them is Change. Change is the master key. 

Robert Franck describes Churchill’s daily routine consisting of three parts: writing in the morning, brick laying in the afternoon, and entertaining in the evening. Writing was his work—intensive brain work. As Franck explains in the book, to recover from the exertion of his work, Churchill required a change. The change for Churchill was mortaring bricks together—he mortared thousands of bricks into fences and retaining walls around his estate south of London. His brick rest did not distract from his word work and his brick rest provided the change that enabled his word work.

This change concept really transformed my thinking on rest. That is why exercise might be the appropriate form of rest for some and why repose (quietness/leisure) will be fitting for others, as Franck explains. For some, the newness and excitement of travel provides rest. For others, the calmness and quietness of retreat provides the needed rest. Read Franck’s book for more descriptions of Churchill’s pairs of opposites.

I took the concepts in Franck’s book and applied them the last three months. Knowing that my job as Chief Scientist at TiER1 is intensive “brain work”, I intentionally went after physical activities on our property in Colorado Springs, taking on home improvement projects and many outside tasks. And Debbie and I recently returned from a 2-week trip to Europe, where the change in scenery and routine provided the needed rest for us. I feel refreshed. It has allowed me to fully experience the four Rs of sabbatical.

If you want to dig into more of this concept of rest, I encourage you to pick up a copy of Frank’s book. You can find it on Amazon here

Amazed By His Love,

Terence

Trust God for the Outcome

At the beginning of the year I was listening to a podcast by John Eldredge called, “Give God Your Year.” You can listen to it here: https://www.ransomedheart.com/podcast/give-god-your-year. It’s about hearing what God’s “theme” is for your year. That kind of “listening prayer” can be done anytime, but it struck me that I had never been intentional in hearing God’s theme for me at the beginning of the year. I had never paused to ask what God had in mind for me for any given year. So, I took some intentional time in prayer to ask God about that, and to listen for specific themes/words. In a moment of just pausing, a moment of quietness, I felt the impression of these words: “Trust for the Outcome.” At first my reaction was something like—Really, that’s it? Just trust God for the outcome? And I felt the answer to those questions was, “Yes, just do your best, put it out there, and trust me.”

Feeling that this was a deep impression in my heart that I heard this from God, I decided to put those words on a note card and tape it to a shelf above my desk. I wanted a visual reminder of those words. Something right in front of me that would remind me of what I heard during the first week of January 2018. And so, I did. And that note card is still there today, reminding me of the theme for the year.

Even though the year is still not over, I have seen this theme come to life. It first came to light when Debbie and I received the news in late 2017 that our daughter and husband (Jennifer and Andrew) were pregnant with their third child. It was wonderful news—a miracle really—but also came with some risk. You see, earlier in 2017 Jennifer was diagnosed with a pituitary gland tumor and was told that more children would not be possible. Her pregnancy was considered high risk because of hormone issues with the pituitary gland. I could feel the heavy weight of worry on my part for Jennifer and Andrew, and the health of this new baby. So many unknowns and things that could go wrong. But I was quickly reminded of God’s theme for me at the beginning of the year, “Trust for the Outcome.” And that is what I did, feeling the confidence from God that everything was going to be ok. Just to rest in Him, and trust him for the outcome. And that trust led to a very healthy boy in August—William Scott Lee.

There was another part of my life where I felt challenged trusting God. It was in my own work as a research leader at the company I work for—TiER1 Performance Solutions. The research team at TiER1 puts together several proposals each year with the hope of winning funding from the federal government. The call for proposals comes out about 4 times a year. For each call, the team typically responds with 2-3 proposals. In February, our team saw 7 topics that we were interested in. That’s a big number for our small research team. It takes a lot of work just to put one proposal together. Multiply that by seven—it’s hundreds and hundreds of hours. And the competition is stiff. The average win rate for these research grants is one out of ten (10%). We all leaned into submitting for these seven different topics, knowing that we may only win one of these. Again, I felt my heart checked---just trust God for the outcome. I released my mind of anxiety and worry about these proposals and put them in God’s hands. The result: the team won five of the seven proposals! A 71% win rate! That’s unheard of with federal research grants. Every company applying for these grants is very good and the evaluation teams are very selective. In the process, I learned that I don’t need to try and control everything. I can hand over my dreams, ambitions, and worries to God and trust Him for the outcome. It’s not easy to do—I typically lean in the direction of trying to control everything myself and “make things happen.” But, I have found rest in giving the desire or worry to God and just trusting for the outcome.

  

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

This Will Be So Easy For Me To Do

I have only told this part of my story to a few people. I was originally diagnosed with Leukemia in February 2010 and spent 30 days in a hospital for treatment to eliminate these cancer cells from my blood. About two weeks into that hospital stay, I remember walking down to the end of the hallway where there was a window. Looking out that window, I started a conversation with God. That conversation was about the heaviness I felt about the disease I was fighting. I had lots of questions. How would my family deal with this? Would this be the end? Would I see my children get married and have grandchildren? Would I ever walk out of this hospital? I was seeking answers from the God who saved me as a young boy. I paused for a long time, waiting for an impression from God, for an answer. It wasn’t long before I heard these words: “This will be so easy for me to do.” Those words were not audible, but I could feel, deep in my soul, that God had delivered that answer to my very direct question—was I going to live through this? I’m not sure how much time went by before I decided to see if I could confirm God’s promise. I think it was just a few seconds and I don’t even know where this thought came from, but I wanted some assurance that God delivered those words to me, and not something I thought up. So, I answered back: “If this is going to be so easy for you to do, then let me walk out of this hospital with my hair—don’t let me lose my hair.” As most of us probably know or have seen, many people lose their hair from chemo treatment. Chemo is known to kill all rapidly dividing cells. Our hair follicles are highly active cells that frequently divide to produce growing hair. So, hair often becomes the unfortunate bystander that takes the fall along with the cancer cells. Hair loss, for many, is one of the most traumatic experiences of cancer. But, let’s be honest, it is likely more traumatic for women. It’s not that big of a deal to see a bald man. In fact, many men look great bald. And some men, for style, shave all their remaining hair off instead of having patches of hair growing in some spots and none elsewhere. With that in mind, I don’t know why holding onto my hair would have been the request I made, other than it being a very visible thing I could count on, and that others could see.

So, that’s the request I made. I really didn’t think much about it until I left the hospital. But I left the hospital with my hair! It was still closely cut and did thin out a bit, but it was there. We had a friend give me a “buzz” cut when I first arrived in the hospital thinking that I would lose it anyway and it would be better to lose a thin layer of hair than big chunks. I then thought: “Wow, God must have really said those words because I walked out of the hospital with my hair.” (see the picture with Jennifer, Brian, Zachary and I on one of my last days in the hospital)

That thought stayed with me until my re-lapse in 2011. During my re-lapse, I often went back to God and reminded him of what he told me in February 2010—“this will be so easy for me to do.” I wondered what the re-lapse was all about? Then, four years went by from 2011-2015 where I was completely free from Leukemia. Life was good. God’s promise was true. But, I then experienced a brain tumor in 2015 and Leukemia was found in that tumor. I remember thinking, “God, you said this would be so easy for you to do. Explain the re-lapse and now the brain tumor. This doesn’t feel that easy. In fact, it’s been pretty hard.”

I’ve carried this question with me for the last few years, especially since the brain tumor in 2015. I was certain I heard those words, that promise in 2010. I just knew it in my heart. But none of this has been easy. Not on me and not for our family. Only recently have I been given a different perspective on this. One morning I was reading in Luke 22, after Jesus and his disciples have the Last Supper, and Jesus knows that he will soon go to the cross and die. My attention was drawn to verses 41-44:

He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. (Luke 22:41-44, NIV)

Jesus was in anguish as he faced the reality of the cross. And then I felt this revelation in that moment: It was easy for God to raise his son Jesus to life again, but the journey was not easy on Jesus. It was as if God was saying to me, “Terence, I said this would be so EASY FOR ME TO DO. I know it has been tough on you, but I have been with you—I’ve never forsaken you (Deuteronomy 31:6). Here you are alive and enjoying life to the fullest. You have a great job, working for a great company. You have walked your daughter down the aisle in her wedding, seen your oldest son graduate from the Air Force Academy and also get married. Have two beautiful grandchildren and one more on the way. Celebrated your 30^th wedding anniversary last year with your high school sweetheart. My promises are true.”

I still don’t know why I have had to go through a re-lapse and a brain tumor. But I can cling to this: God has been with me. As a young boy, he saved me from spiritual death and now almost certain physical death from Leukemia. He has prolonged my life when there was no hope for the future. What have you heard God promise to you? Know he is with you and will see it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

It’s the Hard that Makes it Great

Someone once told me, “At the beginning of the test faith is challenged.  At the end of the test faith is rewarded.  But in the middle of the test faith is strengthened.” I love the way The Message version puts it, “Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way. If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought” (James 1:2-5)

What is it about going through challenges and coming out on the other side more mature and refined? Remember the 1992 movie A League of Their Own starring Geena Davis and Tom Hanks? There’s a scene where Dottie (Geena Davis) tells Jimmy (Tom Hanks) that she is going home to Oregon instead of playing with the team in the league’s world series. Jimmy tries to persuade her to stay, but Dottie responds, “It just got too hard.” Jimmy’s next line has stayed with me over the years:

“The hard is what makes it great.”

There is something to be said about embracing and overcoming a challenge. Whatever your personal feelings on Alabama Crimson Tide or their coach, Nick Saban, I think he got it exactly right when he said this after winning the 2018 National Championship against Georgia:

“If you can’t overcome hard, you’re never going to have any great victories in your life.”

My Story of Overcoming Hard

On this date eight years ago, I was diagnosed with leukemia. A few months later as I completed treatment, our family thought it was all behind us. But exactly a year after the original diagnosis, leukemia came roaring back. My only life-saving option was a bone marrow transplant, and my sister was found to be a perfect match for me.

On the evening before I started treatment that would take me an inch above death in order to accept my sister’s cells, I just wanted to run away. There was only a 50% survival rate for bone marrow transplant, not to mention so many things that could go wrong later in life after transplant. But I knew if I didn’t embrace transplant, my life here on earth would be over.

By embracing transplant and pressing through the difficult road ahead, several good things happened. A year after transplant, I walked my daughter down the aisle. Three years after transplant, I saw my oldest son graduate from the Air Force Academy and shake the Vice President’s hand as he crossed the stage. I got to see my youngest son grow into a young man. And finally, I have been blessed with two beautiful grandchildren. I would not have been able to experience these wonderful milestones if I had chosen not to embrace transplant.

Has it been hard? Absolutely yes. And my journey isn’t over. Three years ago, leukemia came back in the form of a solid brain tumor. It took everything I had, nearly two years, to recover from that 9-hour surgery. Over the last 8 years I have spent 160 nights in a hospital, received 40 red blood transfusions, 55 platelet transfusions, 12 radiation treatments, and countless rounds of chemotherapy. I am grateful to be alive. The hard is what makes life great; by overcoming the hard, I have experienced great victories.

I have faced the deep reality of going through something incredibly difficult…and getting through to the other side. It was awful to go through; it took me to the point of just inches away from death. But I can say on this side of it, I’ve learned so much about myself and so much about God’s amazing love in the storm. I’ve heard it said that you never know what you are made of until you go through something hard, embrace the challenge, and press through to the other side. It matures you, strengthens your perseverance, and allows you to develop a generous spirit to serve and comfort others who are going through a difficult challenge. You will discover both gratitude and a generous heart of serving others on the other side of the struggle. It’s the hard that makes the overcoming worth it in the end. 

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

God Makes the Impossible Possible

Last month, Debbie, Zachary, and I visited my company’s office in Covington, KY. While there, we decided to see the Creation Museum and the Ark Encounter, both in Kentucky. I had heard much about the Creation Museum since it opened 10 years ago (2007). But I didn’t know much about the Ark Encounter since it is still new (opened in 2016). The Creation Museum was a great experience for us as a family, walking through biblical history in a state-of-the-art museum. It was a great way to bring the Bible to life for all of us. But, what impacted me the most was our trip to Noah’s Ark (known as the Ark Encounter) in Williamstown, KY. Here’s the story…

As we were walking up to Noah’s Ark, the size just overwhelmed me. We ate lunch right at the base of Noah’s Ark with the full scale of the Ark right in front of us. As I looked at the size of Noah’s Ark, this thought came to me: This is IMPOSSIBLE—How could Noah and his family build this! It was just too much to take in. The Ark was built to the scale described in Genesis 6: 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide, and 30 cubits high. We know there is some debate as to the actual measure of a cubit (somewhere between 19 and 21 inches). Taking any one of those numbers…the Ark is BIG! The size of this Ark constructed at the Ark Encounter is 510 feet long, 85 feet wide, and 51 feet high.

I just could hardly take in the size of what was in front of us. We then walked through the Ark Encounter where we saw stunning exhibits that brought the Genesis account of Noah’s flood to life. Engineers, mathematicians, and construction experts put together convincing details on what the inside of the Ark could have possibly looked like, how everything could fit, and what life could have been like on the Ark for the approximate year Noah’s family was on it.

As I walked out of the Ark Encounter and thinking back to what I first thought when walking up...this is IMPOSSIBLE…I now had this thought: With God Anything is POSSIBLE. As I read every word of the Genesis story of Noah’s Ark and the detailed re-creation of how it could have been built, I was deeply impacted by what is possible when God is with you.

This experience reminded me of the challenges in life that we often face…and that they can look overwhelming to us—they look IMPOSSIBLE! My thoughts were taken back to July 29, 2015 when I faced a 9-hour brain surgery and the return of Leukemia in the form of a solid brain tumor--nearly the size of an orange. Doctors did not give us much hope for the future—the tumor would likely come back within a year. Our hope was crushed. This looked IMPOSSIBLE—how was our family going to get through this! But, here I am over 2 years later and my doctors are amazed (and pleased) to see me. And there is no sign of Leukemia. God makes the Impossible POSSIBLE. And I love this song by our friend, Jared Anderson: Impossible Possible. Enjoy it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RH63wQBerpA. 

Amazed by His Love,

Terence

Six Years Ago

Six years ago on this date, February 19, 2010, Terence had a test that changed our whole family’s lives. Terence hadn’t been feeling very well and the doctor at the Air Force Academy clinic had ordered some blood work.  The numbers came back odd so the doctor said he would like to have a blood doctor look at him, a Hematologist. We didn’t think anything of it. None of us had ever been very sick, so Terence went on his own that Friday. After another blood test, the doctor decided he should do a bone marrow biopsy.  The doctor still wasn’t concerned, but said he would do one just to be sure and he could fit Terence in during his lunch break.  Terence called me and I decided I should probably be there when they did the biopsy, so I met Terence at the doctor’s office.  When the nurse called Terence back we decided I would go in with him.  It was much worse than I imagined and I ended up going to stand outside the door so I wouldn’t pass out. The doctor said it could be a few days before we would hear anything, so we went home and really didn’t think too much about it. The next afternoon, February 20 (Saturday), I remember Terence, Jennifer, Brian and I were watching the winter Olympics on TV and Terence got a phone call.  It was the doctor on call for the clinic that Terence had went to.  Terence took the call upstairs and after talking a couple minutes he called me upstairs with him.  Our life changed in that minute. The doctor said that Terence had Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) and he needed to be in the hospital on Monday for about a 30-day treatment.  I remember all four of us being in shock and praying together.  Zachary was only three at the time, so he was still napping.

In the moment I kept thinking why us? What did we do to deserve this disruption to all of our lives? Because all of our lives did change.  My parents moved into our house to help keep us going during that time since I was at the hospital every day and Zachary needed care. During this initial time in the hospital, so many people made us meals and helped us in many ways. Still it is easy to feel so alone, but we knew that God was with us. The company that Terence works for, Tier1 Performance Solutions, have been like a family to us and supported all of us during this very difficult journey. Terence was in the hospital in Colorado Springs for 30 days to start that first treatment in February 2010. He would have four more week-long treatments in the hospital that year. After completing all the treatments in September 2010, we were told he was in remission.  Terence had really grown spiritually through everything and he knew God loved him more than he had realized before. Jennifer graduated from college and Brian from High School that May. We were so thankful that Terence was well enough to be involved in all the graduation activities. Brian entered the Air Force Academy in June and Jennifer started teaching 8^th grade English in the fall.  In October Terence felt better and he and I went on a cruise to have some time to recover from this journey together. We moved on with our lives, because we were told Terence had a very treatable form of AML and he was cured.

In February 2011, at a routine blood check for Terence, we found out that the AML had come back.  It was so hard to believe because this time Terence felt really good—they had caught the leukemia much earlier.  The only treatment option for a re-lapse of AML was a bone marrow transplant.  We met with a specialist in Denver and were told that the treatment had a 50/50 chance of being successful, but decided to move ahead.  Terence’s sister, Bonita, ended up being a perfect match, which is a miracle because finding a match even in a sibling has only a 20 percent chance. The bone marrow transplant doctor in Denver told us we would need to relocate close to the hospital in Denver since we lived more than 30 miles away, so we went through the process of finding a place to live and moving up to Denver.  Terence and I had talked and each of us had one thing that we felt we needed to make it through this next round of treatments.  Terence wanted me to still be able to visit him frequently and I didn’t want to have to leave Zachary in Colorado Springs, so my parents moved with us to Denver to be able to help with him once again.  Jennifer and Brian were both now established in their lives, so we were only able to see them when they could work it out. As a mother I knew they were both adults and they would be fine on their own, but I also felt God was asking me to once again give both Jennifer and Brian to God’s care and trust Him to work in their lives.  I had to believe that He loves them both more than I ever could.  We moved to Denver the first of April 2011 after Terence had had more chemotherapy in Colorado Springs to prepare him for the bone marrow transplant. I remember the day before the transplant was to take place in Denver, it was beautiful outside and Terence was really struggling with why he had to go through all of this when he seemed to feel fine.  Zachary was not going to be able to see Terence for 30 days during transplant. Children were not allowed on the bone marrow transplant floor. Before transplant, Terence wrote in his journal and prayed that he would live to see Brian graduate from the AF Academy and to walk Jennifer down the aisle someday. This second time around God helped me realize how much I needed Him and He gave me such amazing peace. I remember the very anticlimactic moment on the evening Terence received the transplant, April 11^th, when the bag of bone marrow was delivered to Terence’s room from his sister, Bonita.  It was very late in the evening after there had been some difficulty collecting the blood from Bonita. It had been very hard on her, and she had sacrificed so much for her brother to save his life.  The doctors were amazed how well Terence did given the circumstances and Terence ended up being released on my birthday, April 29^th. After a few setbacks, once again Terence was given a very confident report that he had come through miraculously and he could go on with his life.

During the time we were in Denver, Jennifer met an amazing young man, Andrew Lee, through a series of miracles. Once again God answered prayer and Terence got to walk her down the aisle on May 5, 2012. Terence and I celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary on May 30, 2012 in Maui, HI.  Brian graduated from the AF Academy on May 28, 2014 and then married a wonderful young lady, Kaitlyn Weber, three days later on May 31^st.  Zachary was growing up and continued to be a wonderful joy to our lives. Caleb Philip Lee, our first grandchild, was born on November 11, 2013 and added so much excitement for all of us. Our life once again was back to normal. 

In April of 2015, Terence elected to have minimally invasive back surgery after about 6 months of dealing with pain and numbness in his left leg.  He also noticed a spot that had swelled up on the right side on his face and the ER doctor said it was probably a bug bite, so we didn’t think anything of it.  On the way to a follow-up appointment with Terence’s back surgeon at the end of June, Terence got light headed and just about fainted in the parking lot walking in to see the doctor (he had just driven to Boulder from Colorado Springs). We told the doctor what had just happened and she said Terence’s back looked great and shouldn’t be causing him to feel this way. Right away she determined something else was going on and she wanted us to head immediately back to Colorado Springs to get an MRI and she didn’t want Terence to drive.  We got something for lunch and Terence just about fainted again while standing in line for our food.  By the time we got to Terence’s doctor’s office in Colorado Springs it was too late for them to fit in an MRI and they called ahead to a local ER to get the MRI done.  When the ER doctor came in with the result of the MRI we knew something wasn’t right.  She said that Terence had a massive tumor on the right side of his brain that was causing the swelled spot on the right side of his face.  She said it looked like a Meningioma, a benign brain tumor. We went to a neurosurgeon in Colorado Springs a few days later and the doctor said that because of the location of the tumor, Terence would need a more specialized surgeon and recommended that we go to a neurosurgeon in Denver.  On July 29^, 2015 Terence had brain surgery.  Jennifer, Brian, my parents, and I waited that day for what seemed very long—a 9-hour surgery. The nurse called when the surgery was done and that the doctor would like to talk with us.  When we met with the doctor he said he had gotten as much of the tumor as he could, but that it didn’t look like a typical Meningioma tumor and we would have to wait for the results from pathology. It took much longer than the doctors expected, but a few days later when the results came back they had found that leukemia had crossed the blood-brain barrier and had come back. The tumor was leukemia and they had found leukemia in the spinal fluid as well.  The doctors said this was a very rare type of leukemia re-lapse in the form of a tumor. The team of doctors put a plan into action and Terence began radiation and chemotherapy to eliminate the rest of the tumor that could not be done surgically. Terence also had spinal taps where they inserted chemotherapy to eliminate the leukemia found in his spinal fluid. Near the end of the treatment plan, Terence had a severe reaction and ended up in ICU.  Even in the midst of Terence’s recovery God blessed our family with a second grandchild, Eleanor Lynn Lee on September 7, 2015.  It was so wonderful to experience such an amazing gift from God in the midst of a very difficult time. Terence’s recovery has been very long and challenging this time.  We don’t know what will happen next.  Sometimes it is hard to dream again because we don’t know if our journey through leukemia is forever over.

Once we found out about leukemia coming back in Terence’s brain we have really felt that this third round of cancer was not only for our spiritual growth, but for those around us. This time has been much more difficult on Zachary.  It is hard to understand why he should have to deal with such big issues at a young age.  I’ve prayed that he will not be bitter with God, but see God through all that is going on.   During the days of Terence’s recovery and treatments this last year I have spent a lot of time reading the book of Psalms.  I wanted to find a way to praise even when things were hard and David writes a lot about that in the book of Psalms. Each time the leukemia has come back it has been progressively more serious and has caused us to have to lean into God even more.  I was listening to a talk that the late Elizabeth Elliot gave today in which she talks about suffering.  Hebrews 5:8 says, “Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” This verse is talking about Jesus and that he had to suffer to learn obedience. Mrs. Elliot says, “In the gift of suffering God gives himself to me.”  She also said, “When we don’t understand just bow before a mysterious God.”  This may not make sense why we would have to suffer, but I know that when life doesn’t throw as many hard things in my path, it is easy to grow self-centered and think I don’t need to rely on God as much as I should. In the midst of the worse days watching Terence suffer, I discovered a real presence of God and that he gave me such an amazing peace? “In Acceptance Lieth Peace.” 

In reflecting over the last six years I can look back and say, “Why not us?” God wants to give our family a special gift, if we choose to accept it.  He has given us the chance to get to know His amazing love and care in a very real way. I have a yearning for Him like I’ve never known in all the years before 2010. I know that heaven is real and happiness is only forever in heaven.

Terence is traveling for business this week and will be home tomorrow morning. It is amazing to see him be able to do that again even if he isn’t all the way back to 100%.  After all he has been through I know that it is a miracle he is able to do his job again.  During the bone marrow transplant we read the book of Job and even now I pray Job 42:12 for Terence, “the Lord blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the former part.” I’m looking forward to what God has for us even if the blessings don’t look like what I would think best.  I have faith to know that “God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28) “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge him, and He will make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 3:5-6).