Hard Fought Hallelujah’s

Anna here…

This morning, Josh had his scan to give us a closer view of Bruno (the tumor). We dropped our kiddos off at a wonderful homeschool family event that our Superintendent and his wife put together. They had a great time hanging out with friends, and it was probably a great distraction than waiting on news about dad.

I think we both walked in with peace, but a little anxiety until we officially heard words that would solidify the results that the MRI showed. The surgeon was again very kind and empathetic. He too was very happy to see the results of the MRI, but was quick to say, he’d rather start with the scope right away, before he spoke too much.

Poor Josh had to endure another one of these not-so-fabulous scopes. I’m so proud of him, and I honestly think he has more courage than I do. Such a humbling, crazy experience.

When the surgeon was finished, he said, the tumor had significantly shrunk, and the chemo really did a great job with that. But then he said the words we didn’t want to hear. “The tumor isn’t fully gone; it’s still there a little bit.” He spent a great amount of time talking about some options, and at this point, we have two options on the table before us. No treatment is said to be 100 percent guaranteed in absolutely getting rid of the cancer (I’ll add, except if the Lord has 100 percent healing in his will for him).

The two options before us at this point are surgery or radiation/chemo.

With the surgery, the procedure is quite significant, including a massive cut to his rectum and colon, and a large reconstruction. The aftermath would include a colostomy bag for at least three months and a crazy road to recovery. Radiation and chemo would be a rigorous course, blending the two together to try to continue to shrink and get rid of the tumor. Neither option is what we want or desire. Neither is 100 percent guaranteed; however, the surgeon believed the surgery would give the greatest opportunity to rid Josh’s body of the cancer because of what he could accomplish once he got in there. Both would affect his lifestyle.

So, the news is disappointing, to say the least. We were so encouraged by the news of the MRI, but have continued to pray for this scope, knowing it would give a glimpse that the MRI simply couldn’t fully.

We continue to surround Josh with so much support and love, and we know all of you are as well. To be honest, we absolutely hate cancer and all that it has destroyed in so many people’s lives. It’s an injustice I’ll never be able to wrap my head around fully.

I know Josh and I have a lot of choices to make moving forward, and we would greatly appreciate your continued prayers for wisdom. Practically, if these are the only options moving forward, life is gonna look pretty different for our family as we support Josh. I know he worries about our church and ministry and being a shepherd through all of this. And we worry about our kids and what this can mean for them, too. Not doing anything isn’t an option. We want this cancer gone and not given an opportunity to grow.

We’re still over here trusting the Lord and reminding our hearts and minds of what is true. We’re still clinging to him. We still believe we’re in the best of hands! And in our humanness, we royally wanna punch cancer to hell.

This is the song I’ve had in my head lately: