Letter from Brad

Dear Church Family and North Harnett Family,

This has been the worst week of my life - and this has been the best week of my life. Last Thursday, Linda began having balance problems. By Friday, she was stumbling to the left. We thought she was having a bizarre reaction to medication. Friday night on the way into a restaurant, I asked her, "Why are you dragging your left foot?" She said that she was not aware that she was dragging it. After dinner, we went to Barnes and Noble (no surprise there, huh?). Our daughter met us and noticed that Linda's mouth was drooping a bit on the left side. I did not notice this, but Autumn insisted that we go to the emergency room. I called Dr. Lane to see if the medication she was taking could be causing these symptoms. He said no and encouraged me to go to the hospital. We went to Rex Hospital where she was taken fairly quickly because of her symptoms. The doctor, after asking about when her symptoms started appearing and when she started taking the new medication, surmised that she was indeed having a bizarre reaction to the new medicine she was taking. She assured us, though, that they would do some tests to rule out a stroke (which we thought to be a possibility). When she came at 2 AM to report to us what she found, our lives were instantly changed. "I did not find a stroke, but let me tell you what I did find. You have a tumor in your brain, and it is 5 centimeters, so it is not a small tumor. It is deep in the brain, so this is serious. A neurosurgeon will be here tomorrow morning to assess the CT scan we have done."

When I heard the words "tumor" and "brain," it was as if I entered another dimension. Time did not slow, the room did not spin, it did not even seem surreal, but life was entirely different, and I knew it.
So did Linda. As the reports continued to come, we rode a rollercoaster of emotions. By now, many of you have read about the brain tumor known as Glioblastoma Multiforme (misspelled in the first letter). It is one of the worst cancers one can have in the body. From a medical standpoint, there is little hope. Many think that those who have supposedly survived these tumors were cases in which the tumor was misdiagnosed. We had hoped to pursue the gamma knife procedure (you may recall, Marilyn Tate's brother-in-law had this procedure), which would not be long term, but would at least give us a year or so, but we were told that Linda is not a candidate. We will begin radiation and low-grade oral chemo next week. Please pray that Linda will have the strength she needs to ride back and forth to Raleigh. We have not given up hope that God will heal Linda, but if she survives this cancer, it will truly be a miracle. That would be more than OK with us!

In light of such long odds, could this possibly be the best week I have ever had? Yes! It is not about the odds, anyway; it is about our relationship with the Lord and with one another. God has blessed Linda and me beyond anything we could have imagined. I wish so badly that I could have been a better husband to this point, and she wishes that I had also - no, wait - she wishes that she had been a better wife. (Our doctor has reminded us that laughter is good medicine, according to Proverbs, so do not be afraid to laugh with us!) Who doesn't? But you know what? God has made us one flesh. As she lies in that bed, part of me does also. As I write this letter, part of her does also. I have cried more this week than I have all of my life together before this week - and many of those tears have been tears of gratitude for what God has done for us. In no way do I mean to cause hurt for those whose marriages have not made it, or whose marriages are less than wonderful. Truth is, Linda and I would not have thought that our marriage would be so great at this point a few decades ago. As we stayed committed to one another, though, and worked at our marriage, God knitted our hearts together and she truly became bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. I have never been so thankfulfor my dear wife as I have this week. I could write another paragraph just like this about my children, who we have always said turned out better than we raised them to be. So, our family has cried tears of pain - almost wailed at times - and we have cried tears of joy and gratitude.

Most of you will not read this until Friday or later. Linda will return home in the early afternoon. She is quite weak, so we will need to continue to limit her visitors. Do you know how difficult that is for us? Do you have any idea how badly we want to spend time and pray with each and every one of you? You have showered your love on us so fully that I am afraid we will lose track of who did what! Thank you again and again for your many, many, many expressions of love and support. You are all such dear friends and, indeed, family.

We have probably received more than 300 cards and letters that specifically contained verses of Scripture. You cannot imagine how seldom verses are repeated! It is amazing to see how God comforts you through His Word in so many different ways! The Bible is an amazing book. It fits your personality, and it fits mine! Let me assure you that your heartfelt expressions (and sometimes words) of encouragement through Scripture have ministered to us enormously!

We have no idea what will happen to Linda. Nor do we have any idea what will happen to Brad, Liz, Ben, Laurel, Judge, Autumn, Brian, or Michael. Many of you have lost family members to cancer - or to sudden heart attacks, or car accidents, or any number of ways. We will all go, will we not? Linda is just about the most nutritionally minded person I know, and yet she has a deadly brain tumor! It will be a supernatural intervention (even if it comes through radiation and chemo-therapy) should Linda survive this cancer. We will hope and pray for long life until it is apparent that she will soon be with Jesus. We refuse, though, to demand answers from God, or to refuse to face reality in almost 100% of these cases. If you could know when you were going to die, would you choose to do so? I think most of us would say "no" because we would fear the answer would shock us, since we all think (or at the very least, hope) we will live to be 100 years old - at least. Ah, what we should desire is that we will glorify God in our sickness (and death, if He calls us) to the greatest extent possible. I believe Linda is glorifying God in her illness. Please join us!

"Glorify the Lord with (us), let us exalt His name together." Psalm 34:3.

Brad

Please excuse this "poor man's blog." In the future, I will seek to remember the dictum, "brevity is the soul of wit."