It’s true, my spirit has been quiet these past weeks and you have not heard much from me.  A heavy blanket of sadness has settled upon me as I have become overwhelmed and only yesterday did I begin to peel that blanket off.  Too many AT/RT families losing their babies, too many short nights and long days, too much sickness in our family and time apart from my husband and falling behind on grocery shopping and too many doctors appointments and a future yet filled with them. And it all just took up residence in my heart like an unwelcome visitor that left his dirty laundry on the floor and the sink full of dishes.

And each moment became drudgery and the thought of getting on this blog and expelling the contents of my heart seemed like a cruel punishment for those who would read. When you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all, right?  And then yesterday’s counseling session was so rich, and I was reminded of His faithfulness and how I need to recount it to myself day by day. And here goes…

Jesus,

You scooped me up out of my mire at 21 and saved my life from drug and alcohol addiction.

You blessed me with a “Paul on the road to Damascus” conversion and I’ve never looked back. I understand now what a treasure that is.

You lit a fire under me for world missions and gave me a purpose greater than myself.

You spoke Hosea 2:14 to me when I arrived at the YWAM base in 1998; “I will draw her into the wilderness and speak comfort to her.” And you did. And you still do.

And then there was Nathan; best friend turned husband and Your selfless love embodied in a man who loved me like You love Your church.

And Benjamin and Averic and Deacon and Phoebe and the dream to be a mother realized and embraced. Oh what a gift!

And the adventure of it all, thank You for the adventure and the crazy trust in You that was developed through it all.

And how you brought us home to the states because you saw that tumor growing in her sweet little head when we could not.

And how she is still “Phoebe” despite the seriousness of that brain surgery. Thank you Jesus…

I look at the video of her sepsis and think, “was I in denial? I seemed so ‘okay’ during that time….and she was so close to heaven.” And then I understand the enormity of Your grace and how it was a supernatural buffer that allowed me to get up and do what I needed to do for her each day. Thank You…

And for how this crisis has purified the ‘issues’ of life. What’s really important is crystal clear and all the fluff can go by the wayside and that helps us live better.

And this new sweetness in my marriage as we traverse the depths of grief…old souls we have become and quickly and this is the stuff of “for better or for worse”…

And for hope beyond the grave, and an eternity with my girl no matter what… thank you that this life is not the only one..and for hope.

And for my devotional reading this morning that went straight to my heart;

“The soul that is always lighthearted and cheerful misses the deepest things of life. Certainly that life has its reward and is fully satisfied, but the depth of it’s satisfaction is very shallow. It’s heart is dwarfed, and its nature, which has the potential of experiencing the highest heights and the deepest depths, remains underdeveloped. And the wick of its life burns quickly to the bottom, without ever knowing the richness of profound joy.

Remember, Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn” (Matthew 5:4). Stars shine the brightest during the long dark night of winter. And the gentian wildflowers display their fairest blooms among the nearly inaccessible heights of mountain snow and ice. God seems to use the pressure of pain to trample out the fulfillment of His promises and thereby release the sweetest juice of His winepress. Only those who have known sorrow can fully appreciate the great tenderness of the “man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3)

~ Streams In The Desert, L.B. Cowman

Let Your praise be continually on my lips that I may never forget the ways You have shown Yourself faithful….

~Amey

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWuDZ0az-c4

John Bokma

Phoebe had a good day for the most part. Her hemoglobin levels and blood counts were higher today than yesterday which is a step in the right direction. Her urine culture was negative and we are waiting for the results on her nose swab. She was put on isolation today because she is still coughing and sneezing, but she has not  had fever so that is good. Please pray that whatever her body is fighting off will clear up soon.

Thank you,  Amey

Tea Party in the hospital

After feeling pretty puny yesterday and a few low-grade fevers, Phoebe was taken in to the hospital this morning and is now being admitted. She has had some mild coughing and a runny nose and has been complaining of tummy pain, eye pain, and that her port is hurting. Please lift her up today when you think of her, it’s always a bummer to have to be admitted between chemo rounds. Thank you all for your continual prayers and kind words.

~Amey

Phoebe watches cartoons after being admitted

…and believe it or not, it’s for something other than cancer. We were interviewed by Channel 5 in Dallas about our family’s bout with Whooping Cough. You can check it out at the link below:

Channel 5 Dallas News Report

oh…and here is the obligitory cute Phoebe picture for those of you who didn’t see this one on her Facebook page. The Facebook page name is “Praying For Phoebe Fair”

Phoebe relaxes on the porch

Another of Phoebe’s fellow AT/RT fighters passed away today. She was six years old and battled for several years. Please pray for Avalanna’s family…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_5ZTrmenZo

Phoebe finished her chemo round at the hospital this weekend and is home and doing great! Thank you all for your prayers and thoughts.

Phoebe has been in the hospital since Tuesday for her next chemo treatment. She is doing well, here are some pictures of the past few days.

Phoebe walks during Physical Therapy at home on Monday

Phoebe and daddy wait in the clinic to be admitted

Phoebe gets a new hat in the clinic waiting room

While waiting to be admitted, Phoebe wears a fun little wig we found at a thirft store.

A couple of weeks after the brain surgery, a woman came to our room in the hospital. “Do you participate in the Beads Of Courage program?” she asked as she handed me a booklet. I skimmed the pages as she explained the beads and looked over the heavy-weight paper in my hand reminescent of a scantron. Little bubbles to be shaded in beside things like “blood transfusion” and “hair loss”, “neutropenia” and “received antibiotics”. I scrolled down the long list of procedures and events; “received a PICC line”, “port accessed”, “mobility issues”, “physical therapy”, “speech therapy”…..and the list went on.

“Each time she has one of these procedures, fill in the bubble and she can trade her completed card for the beads she’s earned.” As the door closed behind the woman, I sat down and back-logged every procedure Phoebe had experienced up to that point. The next week we traded her filled-out card for a baggie full of beautiful beads. Red for blood transfusions, black for nights spent in-patient, yellow for every poke she had received, a little bald head with a face that represented hair-loss, rainbows for physical therapy, and the big, beautiful, smooth brown bead that Phoebe chose to symbolize her tumor resection surgery. I strung them on the black cord and tied them onto her IV pole. The kids on the oncology floor wheel their IV poles through the halls and proudly display their Beads of Courage. They wear them like badges of bravery.

Each one of these beads represents the strength that these pediatric cancer kids has had to muster up at such a tender age. I hate it that Phoebe has hundreds upon hundreds of these beads. I love it that she has a material way to mark her brave journey.

And the bead she chose for her surgery….

We just want to share with you all an urgent prayer request on behalf of some dear friends of ours. A couple of days ago, Sam and Nicki Brown gave birth to a beautiful little boy at 25 weeks. My math can be a bit shaky sometimes, but that is way too early. He only weighs 1lb 12oz and they are struggling to do even the simplest things, like starting an IV.

Born at 25 weeks, he is only 1lb 12oz

Sam and Nicki were missionaries for years and they, as well as both of their families, have been so encouraging and supportive of Phoebe and our family through all of our issues.

-Nathan

Sorry to keep some of you in suspense. I have spoken at length with our pediatricians, oncologist and a very nice lady from the CDC. Anytime one person in a family acquires whooping cough (pertussis), the whole family is required to take strong antibiotics. So early this week we all started on antibiotics.

Phoebe and I stayed away from the rest of the family, who all have whooping cough. She was scheduled to be admitted today for her next round of chemo through spinal tap and IV, but we decided to reschedule for Tuesday. We have spent most of the last week apart, again. Since all of the “infected” ones have been on antibiotics for many days, Phoebe and I were able to come home today and we are now all under the same roof once again.

Deacon still has a really nasty and typical pertussis cough. Amey and Ben have a lesser, but still nasty cough, while Averic, Phoebe and I are doing great! They tell me that none of us are contagious, but the effects can last as long as 3 ½ months.

-Nathan