“I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart; I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and faithfulness from the congregation.”
~ Psalm 40:10
After a year-and-a-half of almost launching this blog but finding every reason not to, it is finally time. It’s not ready, not what I envisioned, and certainly anything but perfect. But I suppose in a way these imperfections are an accurate reflection of our lives. We’re not ready, life is not what we envisioned, and it’s anything but perfect. I used to imagine a lighthearted blog chronically humorous snapshots of life–classroom funnies, blind dates, kitchen-fails as a newlywed. But here we are, 22 months out from the stillbirth of our firstborn, Elliott, 10 months out from the birth of our daughter, Pippa, and 2 months out from Chris’s cancer diagnosis.
Before we plunged headlong into the wild waters of both grief and joy as parents, and before we heard the word cancer associated with either one of us, our lives were fairly simple. But also very good. One of our greatest joys as a couple has been investing in students’ lives together after years of working with students independently. Before we got married, I was a teacher for 11 years and Chris worked as a journalist for six years and then with college students with Cru for four years. Currently, our home base is in Longmont, Colorado, working for Lifelines, the outdoor and experiential ministry of Cru (Campus Crusade for Christ). In other words, we get to take college students on outdoor adventures and help them grow spiritually, relationally, emotionally, and physically. Our job is a gift we’re both thankful for and honored to do.
We hope that some day down the road we’ll be able to continue working with students together. For now, we’re living in Sioux Falls, SD, where is Chris is from originally. Chris’s family is here (and they are great), and the medical care is surprisingly cutting edge. We don’t know how long we’ll be here, but we’re grateful Chris has access to such exceptional medical care.
I hope to keep you updated here on Chris’s progress, but I may also meander into other aspects of our lives from time to time as cancer certainly doesn’t define all of who we are or what we’re experiencing right now. In fact, like stacks of mail that pile up over time, we’ve accumulated a rich stash of stories of God’s grace in the midst of life’s most painful and horrifying and life’s most sunshiny and sweet. I would like to share some of these with you, and I hope you will be encouraged. Even now it’s good for me to remember and feel God’s love all over again.