"Charlene has..."

So do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10 (NIV)

Thu, Jan 21, 10:37 AM

Please call me.

I really need you to call me please. 

When you receive a double text from your spouse, you respond immediately. She answered and sounded happy. I said, "Are you calling to tell me you bought a lottery ticket last night and that we won?" Her reply was, "Yes, that is exactly it," as she giggled.

"The results are back," Charlene said, "It's cancer."

Immediately upon hearing the "c" word, I broke down and cried with her as we simultaneously gasped over the phone. Simply put, fear swept over my mind and soul. Hospital stays, chemo treatments, doctor appointments, all flashed in my mind. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think. I do not remember much of the conversation thereafter, but I do remember praying with her.

I remember my heart raced as if it were about to leap from my chest. And my chest became heavy, as if someone were sitting on it. My mind began to race with questions, "What was happening? How could this be happening? What does this mean? What do we do? How do we tell the kids? How do we tell the family? Who shouldn't we tell? Should we keep this quiet? Should.... What if...?"

The questions kept coming. Tears kept falling. I kept hearing this voice, "Stay calm. Do not fear." Then I began thinking, "What do you mean, 'Stay Calm. Do not fear,' Charlene just told me she has cancer!"

I was not certain what our next steps were,but within seconds, God would guide me in the role as as a husband and supporter. I would best summarize the next 24 hours doing the following things:

1. Give up control. I had to give her the control. We had to give God control. As men, it is to want to control a situation, but this situation was different. No one, on earth, knows my wife better than me. I knew that she would fight this on her terms and that if I gave any input, it had to be delicate, and whatever decisions she would make from dinner to treatments, I would let her call the shots, and I should provide gentle feedback and support. We made a decision to praise God through this storm. 
2. Cancel everything and talk. I knew I had to make time for her. We needed time with each other. We had plans that evening, but I was not about to dramatically make changes without her. While I offered to leave work, she told me to stay. I felt that she would need some time alone to deal with this on her own. Not every woman or person would want this time of solitude, but I knew that she needed it to mentally prepare. I did ask her if she wanted to cancel our evening plans so we could talk. She was very appreciative of being able to have the quiet time. 
3. Avoid research. It is so easy to log on and begin doing your own research on a medical diagnosis. I knew that if I began doing a lot of research, I could make matters worse and create undo anxiety; life is about to become stressful with the sheer nature of fighting cancer. I made the decision to avoid detailed research until we met with doctors. 
4. Be honest. In the few short hours of being told my wife has breast cancer, I was a mess. I tried to remain strong for my wife, but there was one moment at dinner where it became too real and I broke. It was a special moment, she would later tell me that she needed to know that I cared.
5. Plan. It was confirmed; the cancer is real. There is no denying it. We knew we had to tell the kids, family, friends, and our ministry. It is a family matter, not just a wife or husband situation, it involves the entire family. Everyone is involved and we began to gently process things and create an initial  plan of communication with friends and family through phone calls and texts messages. We wanted to avoid social media as long as we could. 

Through it all, we allowed the Holy Spirit to guide our path, calm our fears, and to simply allow us to breathe. We each had our moments of weakness. We had our moments of strength. We knew we were not alone.