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.