A Little Hope
Hi, hello! I don’t know about you, but I raced through December and, consequently, crawled into January. Shew! 2023 arrived with copious amounts of hot tea and snuggles…a few freak-outs, some thought spirals, you know the drill. 😜 AND…the sun continues to rise. The world continues to turn. His mercies are new every morning. It’s all going to be ok, whether my anxiety gets with the program or not. (haha)
Please don’t worry. Nothing bad happened. All freak-outs are purely homemade, over here!
CT & MRI Results: I shared a footnote in a newsletter, but here’s the full scoop! On December 21, infusion day, we heard that both scans showed “less defined tumors!” OMGAH. We breathed such a sigh of relief! This is a major achievement! It’s the first time we have removed a treatment AND made it 3 months without any dramatic developments. (Like a longterm game of Jenga) 😂 The brain spots we’ve “kept an eye on” for months are less defined, and less worrisome. The liver tumors are also less defined, and “hard to measure.” I am SO excited. Maybe this immunotherapy will actually move us from “No Active Disease” to “No Evidence of Disease.” #goals We plan to continue immunotherapy infusions once a month. Ta-da!
I’m glad I had to type that here, because I honestly forgot what a blessing it is. I’ve been so consumed by “real life” lately that I already lost the wonder and miracle of continued healing in my body. It’s so important. ♥️ The Caring Bridge, this blog, even the newsletters are such time capsules for me. Documenting the events helps me process them. Knowing that other people care to read them is just icing on the cake!
You may remember that I posted a “year in review” type of post last December. It was so neat, and the first time I actually sat down to do anything like that. So I tried it again! I’ll keep it brief:
I don’t think any calendar year is one dimensional. 2022 had some bright spots (like our wedding) and some stress volcanoes (like our wedding)- ok, just kidding! (Not really…but anyway) 😂 There will be seasons of routine and settling (like our ongoing chemo schedule.) There will probably be seasons of indecision, or a sense of two paths diverging (like whether I could go back to school.) But some years have some extra color!
One of the sweetest surprises of 2022 is the evolution of my writing! I really can’t call it a “dream” because it wasn’t planted deep in my heart or anything. It was just a glimmer, a fun idea. I am keenly aware of how God used my cancer journey to create this opportunity for me. I wouldn’t have the time, the energy, or the platform to do this without my cancer diagnosis. But a few conveniently timed details fell into place, and I took a step in faith- and then another, and another. What a beautiful surprise out of such a heartbreaking twist in my life path. He can do anything!
Lessons that I saw over and over again in my entries last year:
Disease and despair are products of a fallen world, and not supposed to be here. This is how I try to make sense of why things like cancer happen. I do not think God sends certain people this illness.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. God made me and calls this body “Very Good!”
God is never late, and I am not behind!
Comparison leads to discontentment, and as Bethny Ricks says, “puts conditions on joy.” (YES)
Each of those are pretty epic, to be honest. Hard won wisdom is just that- hard! The situations that reminded me again and again of these truths were yucky and painful. AND, God showed me His goodness through them.
I have a lot of questions about 2023. I’m a little fearful and timid. In a sense, we’re changing lanes on this cancer highway. 15 months of chemo seemed to be the far left lane. A little wild and crazy, not exiting any time soon. But now, without chemo, we’re closer to the exit! Same road, different lane. Same disease, different experience. Same Caitlan with the same fear about transition and change, even if we’re moving in a good direction! 🤷♀️
I don’t know what’s going to happen this year, but I all I can do is pray that God continues to pull me back to Him when I start to feel lost or overwhelmed. (Ahem! Everyday) Thankfully, He has a pretty good track record.
I’ll leave you with a little Christmas today. (And I’m writing on Jan. 6, so it’s technically still appropriate, yes?) On Christmas Eve, singing “Away in a Manger,” I felt the last verse with all my heart. Have you ever read it?
“Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask You to stay
Close by me forever and love me, I pray
Bless all the dear children in Your tender care,
And fit us for heaven to live with You there.”
What a beautiful, relevant prayer for the new year! Isn’t this all we ever need? For Jesus to be close to us, to love us, to take care of us, and prepare us for a forever with Him. ♥️ There’s such a cozy, sentimentality to this hymn that just makes me happy. So while I may ask out of desperation, so conscious of my frailty and need, I finish this verse with just a little more hope. I’ve needed a lot of help lately. Turning my desperation into hope is a daily task, but I’m going to keep trying because it’s possible. Every moment of hope, every lifting of my heart, is a reminder that God is here with me. If singing a Christmas hymn helps, I’ll take it! 😊
PS: Here’s a little hope from my week! It’s not perfect, but better than I thought possible. Good vibes for 2023!
Not “Away in a Manger,” but a happy duet with my sweet friend, Marlys!
