A Week in Omaha

It's been a while since I blogged. I know that most of you have been keeping up with Narcie through her blog at http://narciejeter.wordpress.com and that you have heard her good news. Her tumor is not malignant; it's stage 2 not 3 or 4 (although I wish had been a stage 1). The Tumor Board will meet next week to determine the next course of action. We appreciate your prayers and keep them coming. This thing has the potential of growing back and she will have MRI's every few months to keep track of it.

Last week after I had done all the "busy" things that I could do to keep from crying, Caleb and I headed to Omaha, Nebraska for the College World Series. Those of you who know me are quite aware how much I love college baseball. This is my fourth trip to the CWS, 2002, 2003, 2004, and now for Rosenblatt Stadium's last season. Caleb and I have an adventure. We always do! Maybe the low point was sleeping on the pavement in the rain to exchange general admission tickets for reserve seats. We/I have been to all the games, and the days are running into each other in my mind. Last night's thriller against Oklahoma was UNBELIEVABLE! We won in the bottom of the 12th with 2 outs.

We play Clemson tonight at 8 and I don't have my tickets yet - freaking a little bit about that, but it will work out. It got into the 60's and I wass too beat to sleep on the pavement again. We're staying about 3 miles from the stadium at Lake Manawa State Park, $11 a night and eating on the cheap. This has been a good distraction from all of Narcie's drama though I've been calling numerous times a day. The proof of that is that the only time I've cried in since all this with her started was on Wednesday when she called and gave me the report. These were tears of joy. My little/big girl may get to live and I'm so grateful to God. I'm grateful that Caleb is here with me, too, and the rest of you have been as well.

By the way, since Cindy comes from a big Clemson family, and Josh graduated from there, I made the fateful promise not to pull against Clemson unless they were playing Carolina. I've kept my promise, but NOT tonight. We have to beat them the next two days in order to get into the Championship series that starts Monday. Go Gamecocks! This what sports was meant for: to give you a minor distraction from life, and that sports shouldn't be a life unto itself. Fullness of life can only come from Christ, that I know!

Anyway, thanks to everyone for your prayers and keep them coming for Narcie.

Holy Saturday Redux

Waiting, waiting, waiting - We're waiting to hear from Narcie's doctor about the pathology report. We're staying busy in this limbo land. Narcie is staying at Josh and Karen's parsonage a few miles from her house. Mike comes over during the day and will stay tonight while his Mom a.k.a. "GiGi" takes care of the kiddo's. She has been great with them! Narcie couldn't stand being away from them any longer today so Mike brought Evy over this morning and Evy slept on Narcie's chest for an hour, angelic. Tonight Narcie couldn't do without her Enoch-fix so she went over to the house, and it was reunion-time. Sweet. Enoch and Evy were so glad to see their Mommy. She would be staying there except for the doctor's concern about her condition and stamina, plus the stitches that stretch all the way across her head like a braid. Narcie got Enoch & Evy to bed and we've made it back over to Josh & Karen's. It's a weird feeling to me, doing the hokey-pokey with one foot here and another foot there. I can't even imagine what it's like for Narcie and Mike.

At least they gave me something to do today. Narcie's van had two recalls on it, plus it needed a few other maintenance issues done. So what was supposed to be a 2 hour-max visit to the car dealership ended up lasting all day - all of which had me feeling a little out of the loop on the home front. I know I bothered them all, calling to see if they heard anything from the doctor. Waiting sucks! I'm trying to prayer-walk like I do in Columbia and do what Cindy always says, "Turn your worries into prayers." I did that in the parking lot at the car dealership and that was fine except for the salespersons.

This in-between time is such a funky place. You're not sure if you should plan the next day or the next week because you don't know what it may hold in store, but, hey, c'est la vie, n'est pas? (That's life, isn't it?), but in this case I'm starting to feel more like saying, c'est la guerre, n'est pas? (That's war, isn't it?). The battle rages in my heart between the unanswered what-if's and the answer that I know by faith, "All things work together for the good of those who love God... and nothing in all creation will separate me from God's love" (Romans 8). Well, yeah, I believe this. I know what Good Friday feels like and I know Sunday is coming, but this is Holy Saturday, the day between the crucifixion and Easter's glory. What do you do with Holy Saturday? How do I handle this?

Maybe I've been missing some of Easter's power because I've skipped too quickly from Good Friday's gloom to Easter Sunday's resurrection. I've been guilty in too many churches of scheduling Easter Egg Hunts on Holy Saturday. Boy, does that seem pretty stupid right now. Maybe if I had been more able to sit in the stark silent reality of "no news yet" on Holy Saturday I would have been better prepared for this surreal experience. I've been guilty of glossing over God's times of silence and jumping ahead to God's shouts of "Victory!" Why? Because it's easier to hear a trumpet than the sound of crickets. One says, "Hop to" and the other lulls you into silent oblivion. Silence and death are both anathema to being Christian, right?

Wrong. God's silence is a megaphone. Doubt is the handmaiden of faith, not its enemy. Holy Saturday confirms Easter rather than denies it. If Jesus' death weren't a real death, and if Jesus didn't really descend to the dead, then Easter ain't much, is it? Next year Holy Saturday is going to a be observed with a fitting amount of reverent anxiety so that Easter glory might be better appreciated. That's where I am tonight - pondering, praying, waiting - not in vain, but it isn't Easter yet.

Places in the Heart

Well, it was more than a little weird being in & out at Annual Conference, but I felt like everywhere we've been these past days the Connection went with us. So, I might not have been with y'all as much as normal on my short parliamentarian leash, but y'all have certainly been with us. I've heard word from other annual conferences where they specifically lifted Narcie up in prayer and I'm so grateful. I've heard from colleagues from around the world and I want to hug each one of you.

It was good to be at Annual Conference this morning as our son, Josh, a Provisional Elder, shared his testimony about ministry among the least of these. He did great. He is so authentic and a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy with a huge heart that is utterly transparent. Then off I went 3 hours back to Charlotte to see Narcie. It was a good thing that I got there when I did, because Narcie's doctor came in and said he was discharging her. She looks great except for the long scar on the side of her head, but she's herself and can move everything. She/we still need prayer warriors. They didn't get all the tumor and we're waiting for the pathology report for specific guidance in how to attack this thing. We really need it to be benign and low grade, slow growing, beatable!

Please, everyone, I want you to know how much our community means to us. I almost couldn't take it last night and today during the times I was at conference. I could feel the brush of angel's wings and they were yours. The Great Cloud of Witnesses humbled me to my barest soul, weak and overcome with emotion and fatigue. I keep remembering the scene at the end of Sally Fields' movie, "Places in the Heart," when there's a sharing of communion that includes those who had already died. I couldn't help but tear up as I saw you, and as I pondered Cindy's parents, my parents, and a whole host of others cheering for Narcie from the other side.

I know we meet at different places and times at conference, but thanks be to God, the time and place are meaningless to eternity. This whole saga has put so much in perspective for me. I treasure my family and I treasure the church. I cannot imagine being in any other denomination, no offense to the rest of you, but United Methodism is a means of grace from God to me. Our connectional spirit is beyond anything to which I can compare it. I sincerely believe that if we will offer the world Christ's grace through the vehicle of connectionalism and community then in the words of the movie, "Field of Dreams:" "People will come, People will most assuredly come." Acts 2:42-47 is what I'm talking about. Read it. You know it and in these past days you have lived it for us. Thank you and keep praying. Tomorrow we will call the doctor, and I pray that we hear good news soon from the pathology report.

Looking Better!

Better news this morning, "Joy in the morning!" Narcie is sitting up in a chair a few feet from me, eating breakfast - freedom a la Braveheart. Speaking of Braveheart, I am so proud of my son-in-law Mike. He has a brave heart! He is the greatest support for Narcie, has a wonderful attitude and shoots straight, too. Here it goes, in public, I love him, and not just because he loves my daughter so wonderfully well.

The doctor came in a few minutes ago. Here's where we are: They did an MRI at 1:30 am this morning. There is some tumor left, BUT the doctor said it's not a big deal. He thinking it's not cancer, but in doctorese says we have to wait for the pathology report on Tuesday to know for sure, BUT either way it looks like what's left isn't something that we have to get aggressive or panicky about. They will do regular MRI's and keep fighting this thing away. So, keep praying and don't let up. I guess we Gamecock fans do everything the hard way, no quick fixes. We're in the middle innings with a lot of game left to play, but we're going to tailgate like the game is already won, and it's going to be better than okay! No more Chicken Curse, not for Narcie! College World Series, here we come!

Narcie looks so much better than yesterday, can you tell?. Except for the bandage on the side of the head, she is looking like 100%. The nurses have been superb. Carolinas Medical Center is tops! So for everyone who heard/read my raw feelings from last night, it looks more promising today. Yeah, it's going to be a roller coaster with ups and downs, but the doctor and the Great Physician are seeming like they're on the same page now. I'm sure it was me. Narcie's going to live bravely, facing tests that will somehow seem routine at some point, and grow old with us and Mike and Enoch and Evy.

I still am a little teary, but this morning's tears are more from relief and faith than from fear and uncertainty. Things are looking up. Cindy is going to stay with Narcie tonight since she's slated to go to a regular room sometime later this morning. I'm going to head back to annual conference tonight to be there for the four ordinands from the Columbia District: Billy Lynch, Daniel Burbage, Sheila Elliott, and Scott Bratton. I'm so happy for them! Thanks to all of you for your support. We're here, God is here, it feels more positive this morning. Keep the good vibes aimed this way, and keep up the prayers.

A Tale of Two Cities: Ambiguity and Clarity

Two cities: poor and rich, sick and well, self-absorbed and selfless, Charlotte and Florence, good news and bad news, ambiguity and clarity. Which city will I live in? I'm not rich but I am blessed with much more than I deserve. I feel so poor emotionally tonight, but am so blessed by the friends and colleagues who have called or corresponded today, plus the fact that Bishop Taylor observed a time of prayer and the Chair of the Order of Elders, Larry Hays, a good friend, prayed for Narcie, exactly at the time she went into surgery. I miss being at Annual Conference, but my life is in Charlotte right now, and will be for a few days. Florence and Charlotte are both great places, but one is where I'm hanging my hat today. The worst place in my gut right now is the land of ambiguity, the place between the doctor's words and those of the Great Physician. I want clarity, answers, just the facts, please ma'am.

Narcie's doctor, Dr. Mark Smith, is great, don't get me wrong. He's compassionate and straightforward, a good blend between the two. His message in the consultation room (don't you just hate consultation rooms) was tough and yet it was open-ended. He said that Narcie had a astrocytoma tumor, no known cause, which usually strikes adults between the ages of 20-40. Well, Narcie just turned 30. He gave optimistic words about her age and her vitality which I felt might be a harbinger of bad news, good cop/bad cop and it felt like it sort of was. He talked about us looking this type of tumor up on the internet and survival rates and how they are skewed - so don't do it, and that every case is different and that Narcie being her age and strength was an asset. Back and forth, my mind was weighing, hanging on every word and asking, "Is this good news or bad?" He said this kind of tumor can come back and that the pathologists would tell us in a few weeks (or did he say "days") what stage she has (but I thought he already said "low grade." Ambiguity, ambiguity. Well that's the rub and the challenge, and challenge makes us stronger because God says His power is made perfect in weakness and through trials - that perseverance gives hope.

Anyway, Dr. Smith said that tomorrow or sometime tonight they would do another MRI while Narcie is in the Neuro Intensive Care Unit to get a better look at whether he got as much of the tumor as he hoped. Then he told us of potential complications which demand she be under such good observation: brain swelling, motor skill weakness, bleeding, and a lot more what-ifs than I wanted to hear - more ambiguity.

Mike asked him about prognosis and reasons to hope and this is where I needed to start switching to listening to the Great Physician as much as I appreciate Dr. Smith. Maybe I heard the answer wrong. This has been the great debate ever since the post-surgery consultation. I thought that the doctor said that he really couldn't give us much hope at all, but before you fixate, like me, on what sounds like a worst-case scenario, you need to know his next words were that every 3 months, more or less, he will do an MRI and keep an extremely close watch on her and hope that she has the kind of astrocytoma that doesn't grow fast, or at all. So was he answering Mike's question of "Is this thing fixed and we're done?" or was he answering what I thought was Mike's question, "Is my wife going to live?" So the debate, "Did he mean there's not much hope that she's going to live to be a old lady, or there's not much hope that this was an easy quick fix?"

I have been assured by the women in my life and Mike that he meant the latter. Their take on the Doctor's words is that it is not going to be an easy quick fix, but it's doable with effort.There aren't any easy quick fixes in life. Hang around the hospital waiting room or corridor or cafeteria for a few minutes and you'll find out there aren't any easy quick fixes. Suffering abounds, but so does the Great Physician. My hope is in that DOCTOR, so I want to trade in ambiguity for clarity.

SO, here's what's clear and I've seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears: Narcie is talking, moving everything, eating, and, yep, more than a little nauseated. But she's herself and not a vegetable without any motor skills. She has TRUE GRIT of John Wayne fame, and was ready to snatch a knot in my head a time or two as I tried to straighten her pillow. So my JoJo is on the mend with a long road ahead, with unknown variables, ambiguity, more MRI's than I can imagine for more years that I sincerely want to imagine, with a pathology report that is scarily due with... A BIG NEED FOR MORE PRAYERS - PERSISTENT CONSISTENT PRAYERS. DON'T GIVE UP NOW. WE'VE JUST BEGUN TO FIGHT!!! THANKS EVERYONE FOR LIFTING US UP, FOR EVERY ACT OF GRACE.
tim

The Night Before

Man, This night before your daughter has brain surgery is not easy. I am honestly caught between being freaked out wired with my palms itching and sensing non-existent fire ants crawling on my feet. My spirit is frazzled though I've been calling on the Lord all day for days - should have been doing that a little more, but, as they say, "There are no atheists in foxholes," better late than never.

I really want to thank all of you for your thoughts and prayers for Narcie. Her surgery has been moved up to 11:15 am Eastern tomorrow Friday June 11. Tomorrow is Cindy's birthday and I know what she wants: She wants Narcie whole and well. Narcie had a good cell phone call from her doctor last night that she wrote about on her blog: http://narciejeter.wordpress.com. I am going to try to blog my way through the surgery tomorrow or give you a recap when the doctor tells us the news and we get to see her.

I thought I knew what parent's went through over these 30+ years of ministry when they lost a child. I had no idea of the aching hole in your heart, the overwhelming anxiety, the way that every nerve ending is hanging out to be stepped on by the slightest thing. I just didn't know it could be this bad.

It was good to be at annual conference with Narcie last night and the part of today that we were there. When a person is ordained as she and I have been, and even her brother, Josh, as a provisional member, your membership is transferred from your home church to the annual conference. Of course as P.K.'s (preacher's kids) they have had many "home churches" and I have mine at Edgefield UMC in Edgefield, SC, and they have all been and are appreciated. But still the annual conference is our intersecting link, our lodestone for our heritage and hope. It literally becomes your home church. It certainly felt that way today. Every hug was a prayer. United Methodist Connectionalism is going to help save us as a denomination and Wesleyan Movement because it is a vehicle for the most powerful witness of grace that my family has ever experienced. I cannot imagine going through life without the Connection which is not at its best a top-down or bottom-up connection, but is a horizontal one where we let God's Spirit flow through us as equal recipients of Jesus' love.

Pray for us tonight that the nerves settle down and that Narcie gets restful restoring sleep; that Mike rests well and is a continuing strength to her; that Enoch & Evy don't get scared because they sense something is wrong with Mommy; and that Cindy gets her birthday wish tomorrow: Narcie, alive and well.Thanks again,
tim

Seasons of Love

This is a waiting time and anybody who knows me, knows that's not easy for me. We had an interesting day yesterday with Narcie and Mike while Mike's Mom took care of Enoch and Evy Grace. There were 2 MRI's, four doctors, two nurses, one of whom Narcie said was reminiscent of Dr. Gregory House of "House" fame. They didn't tell us anything and the old adage, "No news is good news" isn't what it's cracked up to be. This waiting place, a la Dr. Suess' "Oh, the Places You will Go," is a rough place, but we'll all sit there time and time again. It's what we do with the waiting that makes the difference I guess.

I've been pondering God's word about waiting and being still. Psalm 46:10, 11 rings true: "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress." Stillness and not panic; trusting in God -the God who in Jesus enfleshed Himself into our existence, the good and the bad - this is what is keeping me sane right now.

Psalm 46 caused me to remember II Chronicles 20 where Jehoshaphat, king of Judah (Which means "praise," by the way) was surrounded by invading armies. He called for a fast and prayed (vs. 12b) "... We have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you." Then the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jahaziel and he said, (vss. 15b, 17) "... This is what the Lord says to you: 'Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. FOR THE BATTLE IS NOT YOURS, BUT GOD'S; You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; STAND FIRM AND SEE THE DELIVERANCE AND SEE THE DELIVERANCE THE LORD WILL GIVE YOU..." Then the neatest and most illogical thing was decided. Instead of putting his best troops at the front of his army, Jeshoshaphat put the choir up front (vs. 21b) "to sing to the Lord and to praise him for the splendor of his holiness as they went out at the head of the army, saying: 'Give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever.'"

Then it says (vs. 21) "As they BEGAN to sing and praise..." the Lord defeated the enemies. So today in the waiting place I am going to praise the Lord, stand firm, and wait with hope, keeping my eyes on Jesus. Every bit of life is an opportunity to find that quiet place deep within ourselves where we exalt the Lord, not our fears. Life is fleeting and made up of minutes that are minute chances to love, not hate, to make peace and not hold grudges, to hear God's voice above the cacophony of crows out to get us. Two of the songs that keep playing in my head are "Seasons of Love" from Rent and Five for Fighting's "100 Years." I'm praying for Narcie to have more and more seasons of love to add to the ones she's already lived so well, a 100 years to proclaim Jesus' love. With Jesus, eternity lasts even longer than that. It is a timeless truth especially in the midst of life's frailties: Give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever.


I hope this inspires you as it does me to listen, listen and love, love, every minute.


This video/song underscores my desire that we appreciate every moment and never miss what we give away. In the words of Jim Elliott, great missionary who gave his life to take the Gospel to the Auca Indians: "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."