Update on Mom

It has been a real whirlwind since my last post, but I'm pleased to say that Mom has been released from Sacred Heart Hospital in Eugene, and is now at her home in Eugene with us. The infection in her breast has been brought way down and the color is much, much better. She is on oral antibiotics and is taking something for potential nausea. She had her first dose of chemo last night, and took it pretty well, all things considered. They want to wait at least twelve weeks to do the mastectomy.

We've gotten a lot done with the medical insurance details and general clean-up around the house. A chimney sweep came today (incidentally, he's currently an understudy for King Lear in a local production, so fun to talk Shakespeare and acting with him), and in the next few days we'll try to tackle some drywall and other projects.

Throughout all of the chaos of the last week, Sabrina and I have sensed the hand of our loving and merciful Father in all of it. I feel like my brothers, sister, and I have come together in a beautiful way, not to mention support and advice from other family members and a myriad of my mom's friends down here. He's given us the grace to apply humor at just the right times (we've even joked that we should write a book entitled Supporting Your Mom Through Cancer for Dummies). So, thanks to all of you who've been praying; we really appreciate it!

In the midst of all this, I've been reminded of one of my favorite poems by William Cowper:

Light Shining in the Darkness

God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
With blessings on your head

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure the err,
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

Wm. Cowper (1731-1800)
English poet, friend of John Newton (writer of Amazing Grace), and a guy who really struggled with depression and even suicidal thoughts


Until our next update,
Tim