Chase Away Cancer On St. Baldrick’s Today

St. baldricks logoThis week, the St. Baldrick’s Foundation is sharing an exclusive excerpt of Chase Away Cancer in order to help promote the book and fund research. When you purchase a copy through their official link [here], they’re donating 100% of the proceeds to livesaving cancer research. 

I’m so thankful for their advocacy and encouragement to our family and so many others like us. Come on over and read the excerpt! It involves our ambulance hitting a Chicago cab. True story.

Here I’ll get you started…


Despite medical intervention, Chase’s fever continued to rise and his heart rate wouldn’t come down. The doctors came and went, talking to us and then stepping out in the hall to phone Chase’s other doctors and make plans.

Chase himself was in fairly good spirits as he’d been given stickers and a comfortable, soft pair of yellow hospital pants, but monitors don’t lie. His heart rate was staying way too high while the fever hovered around 104.

After repeated sessions of consulting with us and stepping into the hallway to get on the phone with Dr. Lulla and Chase’s team, all the white coats concurred: Chase needed to “go home”…

For the rest of this exclusive book excerpt, click here.

Click here for the second part of the story.  -MbM

In The Shadow Of Joy

I’ve come to this writing place so many times in the early hours of morning light. I’ve come here to sit and think through brain surgeries and other surgeries. Through diagnosis and heartache. Through wrestling with God and seeing his love in unexpected and beautiful ways. Through exhaustion and answerless seasons. …and if you’ve been following along for any length of time, you know I could keep going with this list.

But now, in this dawn, I wake up, not with an impending sense of dread, but with great anticipation. And it seems surreal to me to consider that I look out, not over the lake as I have so many times before, but out over my own backyard and the very window where I stood and heard that we were looking at a potential relapse back in the day…where I stood when I heard my mom was sick. In some ways, this view has become my baptism by fire – it’s my cancer window, and yet I love it.

This morning as the calendar quietly speaks May over us, next to my well-worn, well-loved old coffee mug is a piece of already well-worn art. Its 289 pages hold my blood and that of my baby, and its outside is already covered in the smudges of tiny fingers. And if you look closely, there are even some lip marks where a bald boy held it close, kissed it soundly, and whispered over it with awe: “It’s my book! It’s about me!”

Oh dear ones, once again in the dawn, I have no idea what comes next. We’re standing on the edge of something and I believe it’s for our good. Once again, I’m without answers in the wait to see. But as always, of this I am sure: There is Light in the darkness.

And as always, even though we have know idea what’s ahead, we know how it will unfold.

With all my love and gratitude, joyously waiting with GREAT HOPE… Moment by moment.

Taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8

 

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