Support Amanda

Yesterday I was handed a bill for $170 for the privilege of driving 10 miles over the speed limit on our way home from the lake. We wanted to have a day together, without distraction or responsibility, before Amanda’s readmitted to the hospital. I wasn’t in a hurry to get home, but despite my desire for a distraction-free day, I can’t seem to keep my mind from racing from one question or concern to the next. And in doing so, I was distracted from the task at hand, driving. Really, that’s not so different from normal life; it’s just that the stakes seem higher than they did before. I keep trying to quantify all of the aspects of this in a concise way to describe what’s going on and how we’re taking it, but it’s a daunting task. The questions range from small to large. Do I have time to get to the grocery store? We’re out of bananas. –To- How does this awful disease fit into God’s plan?

I’m reminded of something I once read-

Say what advantage can result to all,

from wretched Lisbon’s lamentable fall?

            -Voltaire, “The Lisbon Earthquake”

On November 1, 1755 a massive earthquake shook Europe by destroying one of the world’s busiest ports and killing thousands in Lisbon, Portugal.

At the time people attributed natural disasters to God’s fury over man’s sin, as some still do. We do not. Disaster's of this size and scope often makes one wonder why a benevolent and omnipotent God allows for such unnecessary suffering. Indeed, how does this fit into His plan?

I obviously don’t claim to be anywhere near the order of a Voltaire, or the like, but can speak to an example of catastrophe a little closer to home. I recall how friends, family, neighbors, and complete strangers rallied around victims of Hurricane Katrina. All over the country people dropped what they were doing, and gave food, water, time, money, and energy to assist, as they could, in the comfort and healing of their neighbors’. People’s humanity, compassion, and love came through, the likes of which I had only seen after 9-11.

This bout with cancer is my family’s little Katrina. You all have done the same for us. Your compassion, help, and love have helped us turn this grim situation into a growing and transcendental experience the likes of which I have never known. New Orleans will never again be altogether the same, but ultimately triumphed against incalculable odds.

I don’t know what Voltaire would say, but I’ll say that if nothing else comes from this unexpected and unwelcomed experience, we know we have a lot of love in our lives. And no matter the depths of vulnerability and depressed doldrums we enter, by the time this is ancient history, we’ll be stronger and take less for granted, and have a greater reverence for life and God’s plan. I just know it.

Tomorrow morning marks the beginning of round two. We humbly ask for your continued prayers and support.

 Thank you,

-Zach