Thank you for the love, cards, gifts and prayers during the two years that Ann fought cancer and the seven months since she went to heaven. Thank you specifically for the large gift this summer. We had a good, but difficult time on our annual hiking trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. The majesty and beauty of the mountains was mingled with the pain and grief of Ann’s absence.
I’ve not had any “mystical” experiences during our storm where God has overwhelmed me with his love or comfort. Yet, I haven’t really questioned his love, nor am I able to stay angry at him, because he has repeatedly demonstrated his love through the kindnesses his people. Thank you for being his arms and hands to comfort us.
I’d like to share two episodes as examples of how the Yarnell cousins were a tremendous encouragement to us in our journey.
One highlight was breakfast with Roger and Teresa in Houston. One of our trips to M.D. Anderson for chemotherapy coincided with one of Roger’s visits for a checkup. We had a nice breakfast at Le Peeps and got caught up with each other. Roger encouraged us with his story, how God had sustained him through the painful radiation treatments and surgeries. He then made a ridiculous statement. He said that if had the choice to do it over, he would not choose to avoid his trial of cancer. The pain and suffering brought a dependency on Jesus that he wouldn’t have otherwise experienced. I’m not yet ready to make the same statement, but I am beginning to understand what he’s talking about.
Another highlight was a comment that Steve made to us sometime after Ann’s diagnosis, perhaps at a Yarnell reunion. He told us that he was praying harder for Ann than for anyone he had ever prayed for. We were overwhelmed with gratitude and we knew that God was at work. While Ann was still alive, this gave us hope to persevere in our prayers for physical healing. After Ann went to heaven, this gave me assurance that her death wasn’t my fault. Steve and hundreds of others had passionately prayed for Ann’s deliverance from cancer. Yet, God said “No” for reasons known only to him at this time. Ann didn’t die because there was a lack of prayer.
I’ve written to some that I’ve been studying about the “New Earth” (the eternal heaven) in order to attempt to make sense out of Ann’s premature death. I now believe that after the Resurrection we’ll live in physical bodies on a renewed earth and we’ll enjoy human friendships and activities.
My relationship with Ann has merely been interrupted, not extinguished. One day Ann will introduce us to our three babies who were miscarried. One day we’ll introduce Ann to her grandkids. Then we’ll enjoy adventures together on the New Earth in places like Colorado, Monterey, Alaska and Mongolia. Selfishness and irritability will never mar our relationship. Time constraints will never be a frustration. Neither cancer nor death will ever again separate us.
Ann loved her extended family and cherished the memories of Sunday dinners at Grandma Yarnell’s as well as the Yarnell reunions. Moving to Dallas eleven years ago so we could attend seminary was deeply painful for Ann. She missed her family and grieved for a year over the loss of relationship. Certainly, her greatest longing now is that all of her cousins join her someday at the resurrection so that these relationships will continue forever on the New Earth.
Thanks again for the gift and especially for the continued prayers. Ann’s absence will be particularly tough this Christmas.
Love,
Howard & Ann,
Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Thank You to our LifeGroup
Thank you for the love, support and prayers during the two years that Ann had cancer and the six months since her death. It’s hard to stay angry at God because he has repeatedly shown us his love through his people, especially through you in our LifeGroup. Here are some of the ways in which you have been God’s arms of comfort during our storm:
- By praying for physical healing even when doctors never gave us any basis for hope.
- By bringing meals three or four times per week for two and a half years.
- By being there at the hospital in her last hours, encouraging her to go be with Jesus.
- By cleaning our house on the day of the memorial service.
- By providing flowers for the service, bringing beauty to the darkness.
- By planning and participating in Ann’s memorial, sharing treasured portraits of her life.
- By painting our kitchen, fixing the garage door, patching my leaky roof and replacing mini-blinds in two rooms.
- By being a mom to our kids, especially at Drew’s graduation, Matt’s sleepovers, and Hannah’s first Homecoming.
- By going out for dessert, giving me a chance vent, cry and discuss the New Earth.
- By praying for our comfort so we wouldn’t lose hope after Ann’s death.
As Dave mentioned last time, I’ve been studying about the “New Earth” (the eternal heaven) in order to attempt to make sense out of Ann’s premature death. I now believe that after the Resurrection we’ll live in physical bodies on a renewed earth and will enjoy human friendships and activities.
My relationship with Ann has just been interrupted, not extinguished. One day Ann will introduce us to our three babies who were miscarried. One day we’ll introduce Ann to her grandkids. Then we’ll enjoy adventures on the New Earth in places like Colorado, Monterey, Alaska and Mongolia. Selfishness and irritability will never mar our relationship. Time constraints will never be a frustration. Neither cancer nor death will ever again separate us.
I also believe that we’ll have LifeGroup reunions. We’ll remember and recount the ways in which we all encouraged each other during tough times and celebrated life together when times were good. In fact it’s possible that the most treasured “crown” that we’ll receive at judgment is a special depth of relationship with others on the New Earth, a depth based on the love and sacrifice shown in this life.
If this is indeed my future, then I’ll deal with the pain and grief of my present. If this is indeed our future, then I look forward to the depth of our friendships on the New Earth.
Love,
Howard & Ann, and Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Monday, May 5, 2008
I Miss You, Ann (from Howard)
My Dearest Ann,
I love you. I’m crushed and broken. I can’t believe how much I miss you already. On Saturday when I was making funeral arrangements, I looked into the kitchen and nearly asked, “Hey Ann. What do you think?” Yesterday, I bought a suit and you weren’t there to match my ties. I was out running an errand this morning and reached for my cell phone to ask you for directions. I’ve silently started using a new acronym – WWMD. “What Would Mom Do?” I am truly lost without you.
You are my trusted confidant, the only one with whom I can be truly honest. You are my partner, often agreeing to my crazy ideas. You were willing to live in a yurt in Mongolia when I asked you to marry me. You consented to moving to Dallas, painfully leaving family and friends, so I could attend seminary. You are my completer. You reminded me when you needed a date. You challenged me to stop working or studying so I could spend time with our kids. You often encouraged me to show mercy or to be more patient, reminding me to let our kids be kids. You kept me grounded while in seminary, so I didn’t become more of a nerd. You are my best friend.
Thank you for pleading with God after our three miscarriages. He gave us Hannah and Matt. Thank you for pleading with God after being diagnosed with incurable cancer. We asked for twenty years. He gave us two. Thank you for pleading with me to pray for physical healing. Your desire was to “err on the side of faith,” trusting God to do the impossible. An hour before you went to heaven you asked, “Are you still praying?” and then softly smiled.
I still believe that God physically heals in answer to prayer. That is what his word says. If we had do it all over again, we would still pray and trust God to deliver.
You always hated injustice, whether in movies or on the soccer field or basketball court. You hated the fact that incurable cancer had invaded our lives. We had worked so hard to keep our marriage healthy during seminary. You hated the fact that death might destroy it. We intentionally sacrificed so you could be a stay-at-home mom. You hated the fact that cancer might rob you of this privilege. You poured your life into Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt. You hated the fact that you wouldn’t get to see the fruit of our labors. You wanted to grow old with me, be there for our kids, and hold your grandchildren. You weren’t being selfish. You were just being you – a godly wife and mother.
Perhaps God has already explained the “why” of this to you. I can imagine that was a heated discussion. But I know that he is a gracious and patient father. He probably just gently held you in his arms while you kicked and screamed. He certainly wouldn’t kick you out like that blind basketball referee.
I’ve concluded, as I’ve mulled over things in our empty bed, that your tenacious fight was your final gift to me and to Matt, Hannah, Drew and Paul. You fought to delay the glories of heaven because you wanted to be a wife, mom and grandma. We will miss you but we will never doubt your love for us.
I love you Ann
Howard
I love you. I’m crushed and broken. I can’t believe how much I miss you already. On Saturday when I was making funeral arrangements, I looked into the kitchen and nearly asked, “Hey Ann. What do you think?” Yesterday, I bought a suit and you weren’t there to match my ties. I was out running an errand this morning and reached for my cell phone to ask you for directions. I’ve silently started using a new acronym – WWMD. “What Would Mom Do?” I am truly lost without you.
You are my trusted confidant, the only one with whom I can be truly honest. You are my partner, often agreeing to my crazy ideas. You were willing to live in a yurt in Mongolia when I asked you to marry me. You consented to moving to Dallas, painfully leaving family and friends, so I could attend seminary. You are my completer. You reminded me when you needed a date. You challenged me to stop working or studying so I could spend time with our kids. You often encouraged me to show mercy or to be more patient, reminding me to let our kids be kids. You kept me grounded while in seminary, so I didn’t become more of a nerd. You are my best friend.
Thank you for pleading with God after our three miscarriages. He gave us Hannah and Matt. Thank you for pleading with God after being diagnosed with incurable cancer. We asked for twenty years. He gave us two. Thank you for pleading with me to pray for physical healing. Your desire was to “err on the side of faith,” trusting God to do the impossible. An hour before you went to heaven you asked, “Are you still praying?” and then softly smiled.
I still believe that God physically heals in answer to prayer. That is what his word says. If we had do it all over again, we would still pray and trust God to deliver.
You always hated injustice, whether in movies or on the soccer field or basketball court. You hated the fact that incurable cancer had invaded our lives. We had worked so hard to keep our marriage healthy during seminary. You hated the fact that death might destroy it. We intentionally sacrificed so you could be a stay-at-home mom. You hated the fact that cancer might rob you of this privilege. You poured your life into Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt. You hated the fact that you wouldn’t get to see the fruit of our labors. You wanted to grow old with me, be there for our kids, and hold your grandchildren. You weren’t being selfish. You were just being you – a godly wife and mother.
Perhaps God has already explained the “why” of this to you. I can imagine that was a heated discussion. But I know that he is a gracious and patient father. He probably just gently held you in his arms while you kicked and screamed. He certainly wouldn’t kick you out like that blind basketball referee.
I’ve concluded, as I’ve mulled over things in our empty bed, that your tenacious fight was your final gift to me and to Matt, Hannah, Drew and Paul. You fought to delay the glories of heaven because you wanted to be a wife, mom and grandma. We will miss you but we will never doubt your love for us.
I love you Ann
Howard
I Miss You, Mom (From Paul)
Mom, words cannot express how much I miss you. The void that has been left from your passing is at times, unbearable and unreal. I find myself missing you and thinking of everything that I will miss you at as life continues on without you in our midst. I think of my college graduation, my wedding or my first child. I think of not hearing your laugh, seeing your smile or feeling your hugs. I will miss not being able to talk to you to get advice on dating "Weffi." I will miss not being able to see you around the house or eating your chicken enchiladas that everyone loved so much. I will miss the birthdays you won't be there for or the vacations that won't be as wonderful with out you there. I don't know how anything will ever be the same again with out you around or with us.
But to only think of what you will not be here for is wrong and unfair to you and all that you did and were to your family and friends. Instead, I will try to remember everything you were here for. My high school graduation, all the proms and homecomings and taking me to college. I will remember the times you did laugh, the times when your beautiful smile brightened my day, and the times when the warmth of your hug would heal the scabs and wounds, real and figurative, that life left on my body and heart. It is hard to think that this is the greatest wound of all and one which your laugh, smile or hugs cannot solve, heal or take away.
Still, I will remember the advice you did give, the way you taught me to love and treat women and all people in general. I will remember all the wonderful times we had. The time you were thrown out of my basketball game for being too adamant about your displeasure with the refs. I will remember the way you always took care of your husband and kids before you even thought of yourself, even while you were sick. I will remember the beautiful, loving woman you were, the lives you touched, the way you loved, the wisdom you shared, and the faith you passed on.
Thank you for always loving us selflessly and whole heartedly. You taught me how to live and serve others and God and love Him above all else. Through your relationship with Dad, I learned the commitment, service, love and fun that is required for a healthy marriage.
You showed me the service and selflessness of parenthood and taught me the grace and love of a perfect mother. You fought so long because all you wanted was to watch us grow up with Dad and be there for us as we get married and have kids. You never thought of yourself. Ever. You are dearly missed and life will always be emptier with out you. The void your passing leaves will never be filled. The wounds, although they grow smaller will never fully heal without your loving touch. I love you and will see you again someday. But not yet. First, I will run the race that has been set before me, living the faith the way you taught me and showed me: loving God and others and living for Him above all else.
I love you Mom.
Paul
But to only think of what you will not be here for is wrong and unfair to you and all that you did and were to your family and friends. Instead, I will try to remember everything you were here for. My high school graduation, all the proms and homecomings and taking me to college. I will remember the times you did laugh, the times when your beautiful smile brightened my day, and the times when the warmth of your hug would heal the scabs and wounds, real and figurative, that life left on my body and heart. It is hard to think that this is the greatest wound of all and one which your laugh, smile or hugs cannot solve, heal or take away.
Still, I will remember the advice you did give, the way you taught me to love and treat women and all people in general. I will remember all the wonderful times we had. The time you were thrown out of my basketball game for being too adamant about your displeasure with the refs. I will remember the way you always took care of your husband and kids before you even thought of yourself, even while you were sick. I will remember the beautiful, loving woman you were, the lives you touched, the way you loved, the wisdom you shared, and the faith you passed on.
Thank you for always loving us selflessly and whole heartedly. You taught me how to live and serve others and God and love Him above all else. Through your relationship with Dad, I learned the commitment, service, love and fun that is required for a healthy marriage.
You showed me the service and selflessness of parenthood and taught me the grace and love of a perfect mother. You fought so long because all you wanted was to watch us grow up with Dad and be there for us as we get married and have kids. You never thought of yourself. Ever. You are dearly missed and life will always be emptier with out you. The void your passing leaves will never be filled. The wounds, although they grow smaller will never fully heal without your loving touch. I love you and will see you again someday. But not yet. First, I will run the race that has been set before me, living the faith the way you taught me and showed me: loving God and others and living for Him above all else.
I love you Mom.
Paul
I Miss You, Mom (from Drew)
Mom, the pain I'm feeling right now will never be fully gone and neither will the longing to be with you just one last time. I could never imagine what life would be like without you but now I'm forced to do more than imagine. You won't be here when I graduate in a month and you won't be here to take me to college in three. You won't be here to take part in my wedding or hold your grandchildren as you so desired. Yet, we can be thankful for the time that God did give to us. You were definitely there when I was born and you were there on my first day of elementary school, jr. high, and high school. You were here for all of my high school dances and made sure I had my pants high enough.
In the time we had you taught me many valuable lessons. The way in which you handled the cancer astounds me and all who knew you. Your faith was incredibly strong and inspired my own. Your servant heart never changed through the past two years and as a result I know truly what it means to love selflessly. Before you were diagnosed you served your husband and children without regard for your own desires and needs. After you were diagnosed you did the same. Your love never changed and I will greatly miss it.
I will also miss your laugh, your smile, and even your reprimanding looks after I had done something stupid. Yet, I will see all of these things in a later day and until then you will be greatly missed by all.
I love you Mom.
Drew
In the time we had you taught me many valuable lessons. The way in which you handled the cancer astounds me and all who knew you. Your faith was incredibly strong and inspired my own. Your servant heart never changed through the past two years and as a result I know truly what it means to love selflessly. Before you were diagnosed you served your husband and children without regard for your own desires and needs. After you were diagnosed you did the same. Your love never changed and I will greatly miss it.
I will also miss your laugh, your smile, and even your reprimanding looks after I had done something stupid. Yet, I will see all of these things in a later day and until then you will be greatly missed by all.
I love you Mom.
Drew
I Miss You, Mom (from Hannah)
Mom, there are not enough words to describe what you meant to me. You were a loving, caring, kind, and wonderful mother. I loved to shop with you at our favorite stores like Kohls and Payless. I always enjoyed learning how to cook with you. I will miss the first day of school pictures and hiking with you in Colorado. You always encouraged my goals, no matter how crazy or far fetched they were. Dad and you were usually in the stands supporting me whenever I played my sports, you guys sat in the pews when I sang in our church choir, and always came to my piano recitals. Mom, I will miss you being there every day after school waiting to pick me up.
I will miss the little things like these, but I will also miss the big things like having a mom and your beautiful smile and warm hug. I already miss saying good night to you every night. I missed having you straighten my hair today. It wasn't the same having Stephie do it. You were always there for me whenever I needed someone to talk to or cry with. I looked forward to our Bible study and you teaching me how to become and stay a pure person. I wish we could have finished it because you always gave me good advice.
Many people have said that I look just like you; I only hope that I can act like you too. I want to be as selfless as you and put God first just like you. I want to support my future kids just like you supported me. I loved the way you were able to always care for your family, friends, and God above yourself no matter how good or bad you were feeling. I know that you loved me deeply and I love you. You are my hero as you strongly and bravely fought cancer for two years, not for yourself, but so that you could be here with us. By fighting and not quitting, you taught me that no matter what I go through I should never quit praying or believing in God. I thank God for giving me such a wonderful mother even though the time was so short. I know you wanted to see me grow up and still be here for me. You will always be remembered Mom, because your life will be lived through me.
I love you.
Hannah
I will miss the little things like these, but I will also miss the big things like having a mom and your beautiful smile and warm hug. I already miss saying good night to you every night. I missed having you straighten my hair today. It wasn't the same having Stephie do it. You were always there for me whenever I needed someone to talk to or cry with. I looked forward to our Bible study and you teaching me how to become and stay a pure person. I wish we could have finished it because you always gave me good advice.
Many people have said that I look just like you; I only hope that I can act like you too. I want to be as selfless as you and put God first just like you. I want to support my future kids just like you supported me. I loved the way you were able to always care for your family, friends, and God above yourself no matter how good or bad you were feeling. I know that you loved me deeply and I love you. You are my hero as you strongly and bravely fought cancer for two years, not for yourself, but so that you could be here with us. By fighting and not quitting, you taught me that no matter what I go through I should never quit praying or believing in God. I thank God for giving me such a wonderful mother even though the time was so short. I know you wanted to see me grow up and still be here for me. You will always be remembered Mom, because your life will be lived through me.
I love you.
Hannah
I Miss You, Mom (from Matt)
Mom, it is indescribable how much I miss you already. The presence of your love and kindness was so powerful and now it is gone. I miss the hugs and laughs we shared together. I can’t imagine how life will continue to be while you’re gone. Everywhere we go there will be an empty space from the big things like annually going to Colorado to the small things like seeing you pick me up after school. I used to see you laying on the couch and now I look and no one is there. I‘ll never forget seeing you in the stands cheering me on in my basketball games. I’ll miss hearing you get mad at the refs. You won’t be there for the games any more, or to see me graduate, get married, or hold my kids.
But you were there to hang out with me, such as taking me to Sonic after school or visiting the zoo for a fieldtrip. You took me to the mall and to restaurants. We hung out as a family and watched movies. You persevered and fought a rough battle with cancer. You cared, loved and provided for your family. Everyone loved you and you loved them. Also God was your priority because you knew that only the faith of your family and friends would heal you. You also lived a strong Christian life and would spread the word with your great personality. This is what made you such a great, loving, caring mom and person.
I love you Mom.
Matt.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Services and Memorial Gifts
Joyce Ann Yarnell Joslin was born in St. Joseph, Missouri on May 17, 1957, to Raymond (Pete) and Lois Miller Yarnell. She graduated from Central High School in St. Joseph and from Southwest Missouri State University in Springfield, Missouri. After graduating from college, Ann served with Campus Crusade for Christ for six years.
Ann married Howard Joslin of Minburn, Iowa on August 17, 1985. She partnered with Howard in life and ministry and built character in her four children while residing in Perry, Iowa and Garland, Texas.
Ann passed into the arms of the Lord she loved, on May 2, 2008, surrounded by her husband, children, and close family and friends. She was preceded in death by her father, Pete, in 2005 and her grandparents. She is survived by her mother, Lois, her brother, David, and her nieces, Melissa and Allison, all of whom reside in St. Joseph. Ann is also survived by her faithful and loving husband, Howard, and four wonderful children, Paul, Drew, Hannah, and Matt of Garland.
Ann lived to be a wife, mother, and friend. She left more than a legacy. Ann left her handprints on all the lives she touched.
Services:
Monday, May 5 @ 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7 @ 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Thursday, May 8 from 5:00 to 8:00 pmPublic Viewing
Carris Funeral Home
1721 Park Street
Perry, Iowa 50220-1191
Friday, May 9 @ 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Memorial Gifts:
In lieu of flowers, please make memorial gifts in honor of Ann Joslin to one of the following ministries:
North Highlands Bible Church
Atten: Children’s Ministry
9626 Church Road
Dallas, TX 75238
Campus Crusade for Christ
Atten: Ministry #2571930 (Mongolia)
P.O. Box 628222
Orlando, FL 32862-9841
Love,
Howard, Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Ann married Howard Joslin of Minburn, Iowa on August 17, 1985. She partnered with Howard in life and ministry and built character in her four children while residing in Perry, Iowa and Garland, Texas.
Ann passed into the arms of the Lord she loved, on May 2, 2008, surrounded by her husband, children, and close family and friends. She was preceded in death by her father, Pete, in 2005 and her grandparents. She is survived by her mother, Lois, her brother, David, and her nieces, Melissa and Allison, all of whom reside in St. Joseph. Ann is also survived by her faithful and loving husband, Howard, and four wonderful children, Paul, Drew, Hannah, and Matt of Garland.
Ann lived to be a wife, mother, and friend. She left more than a legacy. Ann left her handprints on all the lives she touched.
Services:
Monday, May 5 @ 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7 @ 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Thursday, May 8 from 5:00 to 8:00 pmPublic Viewing
Carris Funeral Home
1721 Park Street
Perry, Iowa 50220-1191
Friday, May 9 @ 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Memorial Gifts:
In lieu of flowers, please make memorial gifts in honor of Ann Joslin to one of the following ministries:
North Highlands Bible Church
Atten: Children’s Ministry
9626 Church Road
Dallas, TX 75238
Campus Crusade for Christ
Atten: Ministry #2571930 (Mongolia)
P.O. Box 628222
Orlando, FL 32862-9841
Love,
Howard, Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Ann Lives
Hello to All,
The oncologist came into our room Thursday morning to discuss the results of the tests and scans. He concluded that the cancer had consumed the liver and that it was shutting down. She was in D.I.C., which meant that her blood was no longer clotting. Ann’s counts would not rebound so that she could receive chemo, nor would chemo do any good. There was nothing else they could do to fight the cancer. We had run out of lifeboats.
I made a few phone calls from the hospital stairwell. I told Ann’s mom when she arrived at the hospital. Her brother decided to go ahead and come down from St. Joseph. I called Paul who was still at school in Arkansas and I told the other three kids when they came to the hospital that evening. Our only hope had always been God, since medical science offered no cure. However, the reality of that fact hit incredibly hard Thursday evening.
Before visiting hours were over, we had another time of prayer with the kids. I wept as shared with them that over 100 people had already responded to my email indicating that they would never quit praying. I read a couple of those emails to the kids. I then prayed – with a measure of faith – the four requests that we had prayed during this battle.
The emails provided overwhelming confirmation to a conclusion that I had drawn a few weeks prior. If God’s will was to physically heal Ann, enough faith had been demonstrated by us, as well as our “four friends,” that God would be free to execute his will. No lack of participation would be a hindrance.
At 4:00 am a team of doctors and technicians converged on our room because Ann’s blood pressure had dropped. They concluded that Ann should be moved to the ICU. I called Paul at 5:00 am and said that he needed to leave Arkansas immediately. He was in the basement taking shelter from a tornado. My prayer became, “Oh God. Don’t you let Ann die before Paul gets here.” I’m not sure of the impact that would have had on either Paul or me. Ann’s brother had her mom and the kids in the hospital by 6:15. Though I had no information yet from the doctors, I told the kids that I didn’t know if Ann would make it through the day.
The ICU opened up at 8:30 and I took the kids in to see Ann. She recognized them and they were able to tell them that they loved her. Friends started arriving. Paul and Steffi made it by 10:30. Ann smiled and was able to make a few comments to them.
In July 2006, after the initial diagnosis, I read Psalms to Ann in the hospital room because I had nothing else to say. I did the same in her ICU room.
Sometime around noon the nurse indicated that everyone needed to be in the room. Ann was surrounded by her husband and kids, her mom, brother and his wife, and several close friends. We were weeping, telling her we loved her, and encouraging her to go to be with Jesus. It was a fitting end to her life. I was reading from John 11:25-26 when she quietly died at 12:22 pm.
John 11:25-26:
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
The speed at which Ann’s death came this week has been shocking. I know that you will pray for the kids and me. Mother’s Day, Ann’s birthday, and Drew’s graduation are all in the next few weeks. For us it’s just half-time.
We will likely have the following services. Details are still being arranged.
Monday, May 5th, 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7th, 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Friday, May 9th, 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Love,
Howard & Ann
Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
The oncologist came into our room Thursday morning to discuss the results of the tests and scans. He concluded that the cancer had consumed the liver and that it was shutting down. She was in D.I.C., which meant that her blood was no longer clotting. Ann’s counts would not rebound so that she could receive chemo, nor would chemo do any good. There was nothing else they could do to fight the cancer. We had run out of lifeboats.
I made a few phone calls from the hospital stairwell. I told Ann’s mom when she arrived at the hospital. Her brother decided to go ahead and come down from St. Joseph. I called Paul who was still at school in Arkansas and I told the other three kids when they came to the hospital that evening. Our only hope had always been God, since medical science offered no cure. However, the reality of that fact hit incredibly hard Thursday evening.
Before visiting hours were over, we had another time of prayer with the kids. I wept as shared with them that over 100 people had already responded to my email indicating that they would never quit praying. I read a couple of those emails to the kids. I then prayed – with a measure of faith – the four requests that we had prayed during this battle.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would heal Ann so that we could together be labors in the harvest in Asia.
- That God would heal Ann in such a manner so that no one would give credit to the doctors or chemo, but that everyone would know that it was God who had healed her.
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from death’s grip.
The emails provided overwhelming confirmation to a conclusion that I had drawn a few weeks prior. If God’s will was to physically heal Ann, enough faith had been demonstrated by us, as well as our “four friends,” that God would be free to execute his will. No lack of participation would be a hindrance.
At 4:00 am a team of doctors and technicians converged on our room because Ann’s blood pressure had dropped. They concluded that Ann should be moved to the ICU. I called Paul at 5:00 am and said that he needed to leave Arkansas immediately. He was in the basement taking shelter from a tornado. My prayer became, “Oh God. Don’t you let Ann die before Paul gets here.” I’m not sure of the impact that would have had on either Paul or me. Ann’s brother had her mom and the kids in the hospital by 6:15. Though I had no information yet from the doctors, I told the kids that I didn’t know if Ann would make it through the day.
The ICU opened up at 8:30 and I took the kids in to see Ann. She recognized them and they were able to tell them that they loved her. Friends started arriving. Paul and Steffi made it by 10:30. Ann smiled and was able to make a few comments to them.
In July 2006, after the initial diagnosis, I read Psalms to Ann in the hospital room because I had nothing else to say. I did the same in her ICU room.
Sometime around noon the nurse indicated that everyone needed to be in the room. Ann was surrounded by her husband and kids, her mom, brother and his wife, and several close friends. We were weeping, telling her we loved her, and encouraging her to go to be with Jesus. It was a fitting end to her life. I was reading from John 11:25-26 when she quietly died at 12:22 pm.
John 11:25-26:
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
The speed at which Ann’s death came this week has been shocking. I know that you will pray for the kids and me. Mother’s Day, Ann’s birthday, and Drew’s graduation are all in the next few weeks. For us it’s just half-time.
We will likely have the following services. Details are still being arranged.
Monday, May 5th, 5:00 pm
Memorial Service
North Highlands Bible Church
Dallas, Texas
Wednesday, May 7th, 10:00 am
Memorial Service
Fredrick Boulevard Baptist Church
St. Joseph, Missouri
Friday, May 9th, 10:00 am
Funeral and Burial
Perry Bible Church
Perry, Iowa
Love,
Howard & Ann
Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Two Ineffective Lifeboats, an Explosion and Three Requests
Hello to All,
I started an update several weeks ago, but didn’t have emotional or spiritual energy to write. Much has happened in the past month and this is my attempt to bring you up to date.
March 29th
We met with the oncologist in Houston after the 8 rounds of Taxol. As is often the case in this battle, the news was mixed. On the positive side the Taxol was effective in keeping the cancer in check. Most of the tumors in Ann’s liver were the same size, some had shrunk in size, but one tumor looked like it had grown.
On the negative side, the Taxol was causing difficult side effects like neuropathy. Ann began to lose feeling in her fingers and legs. After about the 7th round she began having trouble buttoning her blouse. Since this side effect would only worsen significantly with additional rounds of Taxol, our oncologist recommended ending the treatments. Another lifeboat had lost its effectiveness.
Plan D was to participate in a clinical trial with the drug Avistan. Our oncologist had reason to expect effectiveness as she had other angiosarcoma patients that had responded well to the drug. Later, our oncologist in Dallas confirmed that he felt Avistan would be a good option for Ann. The positives with this regimen were that there were very few side effects, usually just a bit of fatigue. It was even likely that Ann’s hair would begin to grow back. Also, the treatments were every three weeks, rather than just once per week. The only negative was that the treatments would need to be administered in Houston.
April 8th
We drove to Houston Monday evening for the tests and the first round of Avistan on Tuesday. We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 am, left a little after 8:00 pm, and made it back home by a bit past midnight. All went well for the first week or so. Ann felt fine and had a bit more pep. We enjoyed a brief visit from some friends back in Iowa. I stripped the wallpaper off of our kitchen so we could prep the house for Drew’s graduation. It was a welcomed bit of normalcy.
Then the bottom dropped out. Ann’s fatigue dramatically increased. She began to experience shortness of breath and had to rest several times walking from the car to the doctor’s office. She lost her appetite and began vomiting after eating. The “tightness” in her midsection began to swell significantly. At the end of the three weeks she had difficulty walking across our small house.
April 29th
We returned to Houston to gain some answers for these new symptoms, expecting to begin Round 2. The oncologist, after examining and interviewing Ann, suspected that the symptoms were not a result of the Avistan because they occurred more than ten days after the treatment. Also, the chest x-ray showed fluid on Ann’s lungs. Ann’s distentia in her midsection had grown significantly over the last few days. The most likely possibility was that Avistan was ineffective against Ann’s cancer and that the tumors had begun to grow rapidly.
In addition, Ann was unable to receive the second Avistan treatment, because her platelet counts were only at 17,000. They needed to be above 50,000. The current plan is to wait until her counts rebound to 50,000. We will then return to Houston for scans to confirm the situation with the cancer and determine a next step. Most likely, we will have to end the clinical trial and start some other standard chemo. To do this, Ann’s platelet counts will need to be above 100,000. This may mean three or four more weeks without a lifeboat of any kind.
Our oncologist encouraged us to discuss and document Ann’s wishes concerning resuscitation. She didn’t project a timetable, but told us it was time to again discuss the seriousness of Ann’s cancer with our kids. I had that difficult conversation with Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt Tuesday evening after returning from Houston.
April 30th
We met with our Dallas oncologist this morning in order to schedule a blood transfusion. After reviewing Ann’s lab work, he recommended admitting Ann for a few days to fight her bladder infection and anything else that might be going on. Ann will probably be here at Baylor Hospital until Friday or Saturday.
An Explosion
On Tuesday’s ride home, after driving north for an hour or so to gain a measure of composure, I called a few friends and family members to tell them the news. It was déjà vie all over again, feeling just like July 2006 when I made phone calls from the hospital stairwell after Ann’s surgery. The grief and pain, the unbelief and shock – mine and of those I called.
The news took us both totally by surprise. We knew Ann wasn’t feeling well. I had begun to notice that she had really lost ground over the last few days. However, we suspected something like a kidney infection – not an explosion of cancer. Just a month ago the scans showed that Ann’s cancer was stable. However, such is the nature of angiosarcoma. Just a slight change in treatment and it’s likely to rage out of control. The challenge will be finding another chemo that is able douse the flames for a time. The concern is Ann’s platelet counts, will they rebound quickly enough to receive additional chemo?
How Can You Help?
I have previously written about my two solemn vows. Regardless of what happens, I will never quit the Christian faith and I will never quit praying for Ann’s physical healing. There have been difficult stretches during these last two years, times when trusting God for Ann’s healing was extremely difficult. However, the real test has only begun. Do I really believe that God answers prayer? Do I really believe that nothing is impossible with God? Do I really believe that God still heals today in answer to prayer? Do I really believe that there is always hope?
Numerous people have asked, “Can we do anything to help?” We have three requests.
Prayer Requests:
Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
Luke 18:1:
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
One Last Thing:
If you are committed to asking our Father for Ann’s physical healing, would you please let us know by replying to this email. I can’t express how much it would mean to Ann, the kids, and I to know that many of you have not given up, that you are still asking and trusting God to heal Ann.
Love,
Howard & Ann
I started an update several weeks ago, but didn’t have emotional or spiritual energy to write. Much has happened in the past month and this is my attempt to bring you up to date.
March 29th
We met with the oncologist in Houston after the 8 rounds of Taxol. As is often the case in this battle, the news was mixed. On the positive side the Taxol was effective in keeping the cancer in check. Most of the tumors in Ann’s liver were the same size, some had shrunk in size, but one tumor looked like it had grown.
On the negative side, the Taxol was causing difficult side effects like neuropathy. Ann began to lose feeling in her fingers and legs. After about the 7th round she began having trouble buttoning her blouse. Since this side effect would only worsen significantly with additional rounds of Taxol, our oncologist recommended ending the treatments. Another lifeboat had lost its effectiveness.
Plan D was to participate in a clinical trial with the drug Avistan. Our oncologist had reason to expect effectiveness as she had other angiosarcoma patients that had responded well to the drug. Later, our oncologist in Dallas confirmed that he felt Avistan would be a good option for Ann. The positives with this regimen were that there were very few side effects, usually just a bit of fatigue. It was even likely that Ann’s hair would begin to grow back. Also, the treatments were every three weeks, rather than just once per week. The only negative was that the treatments would need to be administered in Houston.
April 8th
We drove to Houston Monday evening for the tests and the first round of Avistan on Tuesday. We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 am, left a little after 8:00 pm, and made it back home by a bit past midnight. All went well for the first week or so. Ann felt fine and had a bit more pep. We enjoyed a brief visit from some friends back in Iowa. I stripped the wallpaper off of our kitchen so we could prep the house for Drew’s graduation. It was a welcomed bit of normalcy.
Then the bottom dropped out. Ann’s fatigue dramatically increased. She began to experience shortness of breath and had to rest several times walking from the car to the doctor’s office. She lost her appetite and began vomiting after eating. The “tightness” in her midsection began to swell significantly. At the end of the three weeks she had difficulty walking across our small house.
April 29th
We returned to Houston to gain some answers for these new symptoms, expecting to begin Round 2. The oncologist, after examining and interviewing Ann, suspected that the symptoms were not a result of the Avistan because they occurred more than ten days after the treatment. Also, the chest x-ray showed fluid on Ann’s lungs. Ann’s distentia in her midsection had grown significantly over the last few days. The most likely possibility was that Avistan was ineffective against Ann’s cancer and that the tumors had begun to grow rapidly.
In addition, Ann was unable to receive the second Avistan treatment, because her platelet counts were only at 17,000. They needed to be above 50,000. The current plan is to wait until her counts rebound to 50,000. We will then return to Houston for scans to confirm the situation with the cancer and determine a next step. Most likely, we will have to end the clinical trial and start some other standard chemo. To do this, Ann’s platelet counts will need to be above 100,000. This may mean three or four more weeks without a lifeboat of any kind.
Our oncologist encouraged us to discuss and document Ann’s wishes concerning resuscitation. She didn’t project a timetable, but told us it was time to again discuss the seriousness of Ann’s cancer with our kids. I had that difficult conversation with Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt Tuesday evening after returning from Houston.
April 30th
We met with our Dallas oncologist this morning in order to schedule a blood transfusion. After reviewing Ann’s lab work, he recommended admitting Ann for a few days to fight her bladder infection and anything else that might be going on. Ann will probably be here at Baylor Hospital until Friday or Saturday.
An Explosion
On Tuesday’s ride home, after driving north for an hour or so to gain a measure of composure, I called a few friends and family members to tell them the news. It was déjà vie all over again, feeling just like July 2006 when I made phone calls from the hospital stairwell after Ann’s surgery. The grief and pain, the unbelief and shock – mine and of those I called.
The news took us both totally by surprise. We knew Ann wasn’t feeling well. I had begun to notice that she had really lost ground over the last few days. However, we suspected something like a kidney infection – not an explosion of cancer. Just a month ago the scans showed that Ann’s cancer was stable. However, such is the nature of angiosarcoma. Just a slight change in treatment and it’s likely to rage out of control. The challenge will be finding another chemo that is able douse the flames for a time. The concern is Ann’s platelet counts, will they rebound quickly enough to receive additional chemo?
How Can You Help?
I have previously written about my two solemn vows. Regardless of what happens, I will never quit the Christian faith and I will never quit praying for Ann’s physical healing. There have been difficult stretches during these last two years, times when trusting God for Ann’s healing was extremely difficult. However, the real test has only begun. Do I really believe that God answers prayer? Do I really believe that nothing is impossible with God? Do I really believe that God still heals today in answer to prayer? Do I really believe that there is always hope?
Numerous people have asked, “Can we do anything to help?” We have three requests.
- Don’t give up on Ann. One friend promised that she would pray for Ann’s healing until either she or Ann took her last breath. A high school classmate offered to fast with another classmate and ask for Ann’s deliverance. Several others friends have promised to continue praying for Ann’s physical healing. Jesus healed the paralytic because he saw the faith of his four friends (Mark 2:5). I can’t tell you how much that helps us to know that others will continue to pray even though hope is fleeting. The battle is not ours alone.
- Don’t give up in your own impossible situations. Perhaps your marriage is shattered or your kids are wandering. Perhaps your finances are in shambles or your work is miserable. Perhaps you have your own hopeless health issues. Don’t quit asking your Father for deliverance. As long as there is breath there is hope.
- Don’t give up on prayer. If God chooses – in his sovereignty and goodness –not to heal Ann, do not allow yourself believe the lie that prayer is pointless. Truth is found in his word, not in our experience.
Prayer Requests:
- That Ann would be able to eat adequately so that she does not loose further strength.
- That Ann's platelet counts would quickly rebound so that she can receive additional chemo soon. They dropped to 10,000 today.
- That God will give grace and strength to Paul, Drew, Hannah and Matt and that we can all honor God during this time.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from death’s grip.
Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."
Luke 18:1:
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
One Last Thing:
If you are committed to asking our Father for Ann’s physical healing, would you please let us know by replying to this email. I can’t express how much it would mean to Ann, the kids, and I to know that many of you have not given up, that you are still asking and trusting God to heal Ann.
Love,
Howard & Ann
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The Reality of the Resurrection (3/25/2008)
Hello to All,
Remarkably, Ann went 8 for 8 with this new chemo regime. Ann's body sufficiently rebounded after each treatment so that she could receive Taxol eight Thursdays in a row. Not bad for someone who has been on chemo for 19 months. Our oncologist in Houston half expected that the schedule would slip to ten days, or even to two weeks, because Ann's body would wear down. We are once again grateful that God has graciously sustained Ann, rebuilding her body so that she can remain in her toxic lifeboat. Our only hope of halting the growth of the tumors – from a medical standpoint – is Ann's ability to regularly take chemotherapy.
Matt had strep throat over Spring Break. This is potentially dangerous because Ann’s immune system is beat down by the chemo. Even a fever of 100.5 is considered a medical emergency. However, once again God has graciously protected Ann from getting sick. In fact her only illness in the last 19 months has been one cold.
Ann is wearing down physically. She hung out with Hannah Saturday afternoon, shopping and running errands. She crashed for a couple hours after coming home. On Sunday we celebrated the resurrection by going to church and eating Easter dinner at a friend's house. She crashed for several hours after coming home. The pain is more constant and has grown in intensity. It woke Ann up a couple of times last night. Morphine tablets provide daily relief.
We are both worn out emotionally and spiritually. We are tired of the battle, but thankful that we are still in the fight.
We were refreshed by an opportunity to share our testimony at a neighbor's Bible study last Thursday evening. The group's agreement with our requests (Matt 18:19) and their heartfelt prayers were tremendously encouraging. We enjoy sharing lessons we've learned in this storm, because we don't want this trial to be in vain.
We travel to Houston tomorrow evening for scans on Thursday. We then meet with the oncologist at 8:30 Friday morning. We’ll find out if the Taxol has been effective at slowing or even halting the growth of the tumors. We’ll find out if the pain is being caused by the chemo or the cancer. I'm probably more apprehensive about this appointment than any previous one. If the Taxol isn’t working, what’s Plan D? Our only hope of halting the growth of the tumors – from a medical standpoint – is the doctor’s ability to repeatedly find an effective chemo.
Caught on Tape
The book that has impacted me the most in the last two years is Out of the Silence by Duane Miller. It is the amazing and brutally honest story of a pastor from near Houston who lost his voice due to a virus that settled in his vocal cords in 1990. He was forced to leave the pastorate because a raspy whisper was all he could generate when he shouted with all his strength. Specialists from around the world concluded that he would completely loose his all ability to speak in about two years.
After a period of time, he returned to his home church in Houston and began to teach a Sunday School class with the help of a super-sensitive microphone. One Sunday morning in 1993, while teaching on Psalm 103, God instantly and completely restored his voice. Specialists who examined him afterwards concluded that his vocal cords were like new. He could literally sing higher notes after the healing than before he lost his voice.
A cool thing about this incident is that it was caught on tape. All classes were recorded each week and this week was no exception. You can literally hear his voice going from raspy whisper to normal in a matter of seconds. You can hear the class begin to weep as they realize what had happened. You can hear Duane become at a loss for words after finally being able to speak. A recording comes with the book (http://www.nuvoice.org/). I talked with Duane on the phone several months ago. He is a real person and he still has his voice.
The coolest thing about this event is what happened afterward. Duane began sharing his story around the country, using his physical healing as a “living parable of God’s desire to forgive, to remove of scar tissue of sin and self and remake us into entirely new beings.” Just as Duane’s damaged vocal cords were made completely new, so also we are made new when we trust Christ – no matter how ruined or broken we are. He writes, “What better picture of a spiritual restoration can there be than to enact a physical healing?”
The recording of his healing, not only made it to the James Dobson radio program, but it also found its way to Asia. A Vietnamese pastor, who used the tape as an evangelistic tool, reported to Duane, “They can’t understand what you’re saying, of course, but when your voice changes, they always cry, always cry. Then they ask, ‘Why? How? What happened to this man? And the worker shares Jesus with them… You have no idea how many people in Vietnam have come to Christ because of you.”
The Reality of the Resurrection
I began to pray about what illustration I might use if God graciously chose to heal Ann. A parable of forgiveness is awesome, but it’s not our story. Our story is hopelessness and death. Splenic angiosarcoma is rare, aggressive and incurable. The median survival rate is listed as six months. The five year survival rate is less than twenty percent. One journal article concludes, “Primary splenic angiosarcoma is an extremely aggressive neoplasm that is almost universally fatal.”
I probably shouldn’t have googled angiosarcoma this evening, but I wanted to validate some facts. I’m hesitant to even put the last paragraph in writing because it is so overwhelming. Those facts taunt me. The reminder of our reality, that medical science offers us only hopelessness and death, is suffocating.
Ironically, it is precisely because we have no hope that we have hope (Rom 4:18). Since we are unable to trust in doctors or chemo, we have been forced to trust in God alone. Our only hope is in God, the “God of the 10%,” the God who raises the dead. We do have hope, because the tomb was empty. Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25).
Our desire and prayer is that God would deliver Ann from this hopelessness and death in order to demonstrate the reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. If Ann is physically healed, our message will be, "We know that God raises the dead, because he delivered Ann from the grip of death." God did what science could not. Nothing is impossible for God. Truly, our story is one of hope and life in the face of cancer and despair.
I believe that the need for this message was confirmed a few days later when I received an email from a friend who works for the Josh McDowell Ministries. He stated that 51% of the "born-again" teenagers in North American were uncertain that Jesus Christ had risen from the dead. Perhaps God will physically heal Ann so that we can proclaim the reality of the resurrection to a generation that needs to know.
The Reality of the Resurrection
Prayer Requests:
Love,
Howard & Ann
Remarkably, Ann went 8 for 8 with this new chemo regime. Ann's body sufficiently rebounded after each treatment so that she could receive Taxol eight Thursdays in a row. Not bad for someone who has been on chemo for 19 months. Our oncologist in Houston half expected that the schedule would slip to ten days, or even to two weeks, because Ann's body would wear down. We are once again grateful that God has graciously sustained Ann, rebuilding her body so that she can remain in her toxic lifeboat. Our only hope of halting the growth of the tumors – from a medical standpoint – is Ann's ability to regularly take chemotherapy.
Matt had strep throat over Spring Break. This is potentially dangerous because Ann’s immune system is beat down by the chemo. Even a fever of 100.5 is considered a medical emergency. However, once again God has graciously protected Ann from getting sick. In fact her only illness in the last 19 months has been one cold.
Ann is wearing down physically. She hung out with Hannah Saturday afternoon, shopping and running errands. She crashed for a couple hours after coming home. On Sunday we celebrated the resurrection by going to church and eating Easter dinner at a friend's house. She crashed for several hours after coming home. The pain is more constant and has grown in intensity. It woke Ann up a couple of times last night. Morphine tablets provide daily relief.
We are both worn out emotionally and spiritually. We are tired of the battle, but thankful that we are still in the fight.
We were refreshed by an opportunity to share our testimony at a neighbor's Bible study last Thursday evening. The group's agreement with our requests (Matt 18:19) and their heartfelt prayers were tremendously encouraging. We enjoy sharing lessons we've learned in this storm, because we don't want this trial to be in vain.
We travel to Houston tomorrow evening for scans on Thursday. We then meet with the oncologist at 8:30 Friday morning. We’ll find out if the Taxol has been effective at slowing or even halting the growth of the tumors. We’ll find out if the pain is being caused by the chemo or the cancer. I'm probably more apprehensive about this appointment than any previous one. If the Taxol isn’t working, what’s Plan D? Our only hope of halting the growth of the tumors – from a medical standpoint – is the doctor’s ability to repeatedly find an effective chemo.
Caught on Tape
The book that has impacted me the most in the last two years is Out of the Silence by Duane Miller. It is the amazing and brutally honest story of a pastor from near Houston who lost his voice due to a virus that settled in his vocal cords in 1990. He was forced to leave the pastorate because a raspy whisper was all he could generate when he shouted with all his strength. Specialists from around the world concluded that he would completely loose his all ability to speak in about two years.
After a period of time, he returned to his home church in Houston and began to teach a Sunday School class with the help of a super-sensitive microphone. One Sunday morning in 1993, while teaching on Psalm 103, God instantly and completely restored his voice. Specialists who examined him afterwards concluded that his vocal cords were like new. He could literally sing higher notes after the healing than before he lost his voice.
A cool thing about this incident is that it was caught on tape. All classes were recorded each week and this week was no exception. You can literally hear his voice going from raspy whisper to normal in a matter of seconds. You can hear the class begin to weep as they realize what had happened. You can hear Duane become at a loss for words after finally being able to speak. A recording comes with the book (http://www.nuvoice.org/). I talked with Duane on the phone several months ago. He is a real person and he still has his voice.
The coolest thing about this event is what happened afterward. Duane began sharing his story around the country, using his physical healing as a “living parable of God’s desire to forgive, to remove of scar tissue of sin and self and remake us into entirely new beings.” Just as Duane’s damaged vocal cords were made completely new, so also we are made new when we trust Christ – no matter how ruined or broken we are. He writes, “What better picture of a spiritual restoration can there be than to enact a physical healing?”
The recording of his healing, not only made it to the James Dobson radio program, but it also found its way to Asia. A Vietnamese pastor, who used the tape as an evangelistic tool, reported to Duane, “They can’t understand what you’re saying, of course, but when your voice changes, they always cry, always cry. Then they ask, ‘Why? How? What happened to this man? And the worker shares Jesus with them… You have no idea how many people in Vietnam have come to Christ because of you.”
The Reality of the Resurrection
I began to pray about what illustration I might use if God graciously chose to heal Ann. A parable of forgiveness is awesome, but it’s not our story. Our story is hopelessness and death. Splenic angiosarcoma is rare, aggressive and incurable. The median survival rate is listed as six months. The five year survival rate is less than twenty percent. One journal article concludes, “Primary splenic angiosarcoma is an extremely aggressive neoplasm that is almost universally fatal.”
I probably shouldn’t have googled angiosarcoma this evening, but I wanted to validate some facts. I’m hesitant to even put the last paragraph in writing because it is so overwhelming. Those facts taunt me. The reminder of our reality, that medical science offers us only hopelessness and death, is suffocating.
Ironically, it is precisely because we have no hope that we have hope (Rom 4:18). Since we are unable to trust in doctors or chemo, we have been forced to trust in God alone. Our only hope is in God, the “God of the 10%,” the God who raises the dead. We do have hope, because the tomb was empty. Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life (John 11:25).
Our desire and prayer is that God would deliver Ann from this hopelessness and death in order to demonstrate the reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. If Ann is physically healed, our message will be, "We know that God raises the dead, because he delivered Ann from the grip of death." God did what science could not. Nothing is impossible for God. Truly, our story is one of hope and life in the face of cancer and despair.
I believe that the need for this message was confirmed a few days later when I received an email from a friend who works for the Josh McDowell Ministries. He stated that 51% of the "born-again" teenagers in North American were uncertain that Jesus Christ had risen from the dead. Perhaps God will physically heal Ann so that we can proclaim the reality of the resurrection to a generation that needs to know.
The Reality of the Resurrection
- John 11:25-26. Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?"
- Matt 28:5-7. The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead…"
- 1 Cor 15:13-14, 17. If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith… And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins.
Prayer Requests:
- That we can trust in God’s character before and after Friday’s appointment, and that the scans would show that the cancer is once again stable.
- That God would continue to sustain us physically, emotionally and spiritually.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from the grip of death.
Love,
Howard & Ann
Sunday, March 9, 2008
An Invitation for Healing? (03/08/2008)
Hello to All,
Circumstances have been relatively encouraging over the last five weeks. The insurance company agreed to pay for the Taxol after some gymnastics by our oncologist. Ann is “6 for 6” with her weekly treatments, even though her blood counts were borderline prior to the third treatment. Ann’s body continues to rebound remarkably well from each toxic infusion. Obviously, from a medical standpoint, Ann’s ability to receive the chemo is a key factor in keeping the tumors from growing.
Ann and I enjoyed a brief getaway in Granbury, Texas to celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was refreshing to get out of the city and relax at a cozy bed and breakfast. We talked, prayed, and just hung out. A highlight was watching a couple of on-line sessions from Beth Moore’s Explosion of Faith study. We felt encouraged to stay the course, to continue to trust God for deliverance from our hopeless situation. We would rather “err on the side of faith” and keep on trusting that nothing is impossible for God.
The last six weeks have not been without discouragement. My low point was one Sunday afternoon when Ann vomited a number of times. Was this what we should now expect each week? Fortunately, my fear was likely unfounded. Looking back, we think Ann was sick because she took a pain pill on an empty stomach. Ann’s hair, which had begun to re-grow nicely, is nearly gone again. Ann has more pain – not sharp but constant. Is it the chemo? Is it the cancer? We will know in part when we return to Houston at the end of the month.
An Invitation?
When I first learned that Ann had incurable cancer, I assumed that God would ask us to trust and honor him through Ann’s death. The following experiences, which occurred in about the first month after her surgery, caused me to reconsider that assumption. I write this to remind myself and to perhaps encourage you.
Three Useless Gestures:
- DeeDee. After Ann's surgery (7/26/2006), the pathologist was 90% certain that Ann had Stage IV Melanoma. DeeDee, our oncology nurse, prayed to the "God of the 10%" that this preliminary diagnosis would be incorrect. I appreciated her gesture, but knew her prayer wouldn't be answered.
- Dave. Over a coke at Chili’s, Dave reluctantly confirmed the statistics that I already knew – Ann probably had about eight months to live. He then challenged me to maintain hope with the gesture, "You know, Howard, God could heal her." I tersely replied, "He could. But he won't."
- Sergio. We called for the elders of our church, according to James 5:14-16, to pray for Ann at our home Bible study group. Sergio, one of the elders, challenged the group to believe God for healing, not just pray for it. He said something like, "Maybe God wants to show his glory in this impossible situation." I thanked Sergio for his gesture, but knew in my heart that it was pointless.
Three Acts of Deliverance:
- Ten Percent. When we met with the oncologist in Dallas six days after Ann's surgery, he shocked us with the question, "What are your symptoms?" Basically, the pathologist had been unable to determine the type of cancer that had engulfed Ann's spleen. He only knew that it definitely was not Melanoma. It would be impossible to overstate the impact of this act of deliverance. The cloud of despondency and hopelessness was lifted as I realized that God had indeed answered DeeDee's impossible prayer.
- Nineteen Days. We immediately contacted M.D. Anderson in Houston to get a second opinion. However, the earliest we could get an appointment was over thirty days out. This was after waiting for nine days after surgery to receive a diagnosis; this was after waiting for three months after the initial doctor's appointment to have surgery. I felt that God had abandoned us and I had nowhere to turn. In the meantime a nurse in Houston, who was a friend of a friend, made a number of phone calls and somewhat mysteriously obtained the phone number for the office of hospital's president. Quite out of character I called the number and asked if anything could be done. Our appointment was moved up nineteen days. It would also be impossible to overestimate the significance of this act. I learned that God had not abandoned us, but was working behind the scenes on our behalf, working when I was unable to do anything, working when I had given up. Sue and her husband Bill became our hosts and our refuge in Houston.
- A Slain Giant. Some friends told us a pastor of a nearby church who had been healed of cancer. We called them and went to their house to hear their story firsthand (www.fbcwr.org). Joe had fought Stage IV Melanoma for over a year. The cancer had engulfed his body and had spread to several of his organs. At one point the doctors literally gave him days to live. He prepared his funeral, but his wife Terri kept praying, trusting God to deliver and clinging to his word. God used a new, shape-beamed radiation treatment to kill his cancer, a treatment that has not worked with other Melanoma patients. Joe has now been cancer-free since August 2004. Again, it would be impossible to overemphasize the magnitude of this act on my journey. God had delivered someone from my most-feared giant and that person lived nearby. We attended a healing service where Joe and the elders prayed for Ann’s physical healing. We have been able to talk and pray with Joe and Terri several times over the last eighteen months. They understand, probably like no other, what we are going through and what we are trying to do. Terri’s tenacious persistence in prayer and faith is my model.
Three Prayers: - Ann. After the initial shock of the diagnosis subsided, Ann was been burdened with a consistent, intense desire to live. Are these selfish requests? Ann wants to raise our kids, teach our grandkids that all things are possible with God, and to partner with me in a teaching ministry, hopefully in Asia. The impact of repeatedly seeing Ann weeping on the floor of our bedroom, pleading with God for her life was staggering. Was it possible that this “desire of her heart” was placed there by her Father so that he could demonstrate his power? It was for Hannah, Samuel’s mom. Through Ann I’ve seen firsthand the type of prayer that Hannah prayed (1 Samuel, chapter 1).
- Spontaneous prayer. As news of Ann’s diagnosis spread, we received word from family, friends and those we didn't even know that they were passionately praying for us. I took notice when we received an email from a friend who said her sister in Idaho who was praying for us. Later, a friend wrote that he was praying more for Ann than he was his own kids. A cousin told us that he was praying harder for Ann than he ever had anyone else. Perhaps God was up to something. Perhaps the Holy Spirit was motivating believers to pray so that he could heal Ann. At last count people from 30 states and 13 countries were praying for Ann.
- Charles. After Ann’s surgery, our pastor from back in Iowa drove most of the night to accompany us to Ann’s first appointment with the oncologist. He was there when we learned that the diagnosis was not Melanoma. From the beginning Charles felt that God not only could heal Ann, but that he would. He would never claim to be a prophet. He just thinks that God wants to deliver Ann in our specific situation. He and the elders publically prayed for her physically healing last summer when we were home. The church has held numerous times of prayer for Ann over the last twenty months. All of this is especially meaningful because Charles studied at the same conservative seminary that I did, and he has preached enough funerals in his thirty-plus years of ministry to be a realist. He’s not blowing smoke just to make me feel better.
Three Questions:
I believe that God used the nine experiences just described to challenge me to ask these three questions:
- Was it possible that God was inviting us to trust him for deliverance from death rather than to honor him through Ann’s death? In other words, how did I know that it was God’s will for Ann to die from cancer at this time?
- Was it even permissible for me to ask God to heal Ann? In other words, does God still physically heal today? Specifically, does he heal in response to prayer?
- If God was extending an invitation for healing, what was my responsibility? In other words, what would it look like, if I were to trust God to completely heal Ann?
My priority over the last twenty months has been to find answers to these questions. I’ve learned a lot and have much to learn. If God delivers Ann and grants me the privilege of pursuing a PhD, then I plan to write my dissertation on biblical healing.
Prayer Requests:
- That Ann’s body will continue to rebound so she can receive the next two chemo treatments, making her “8 for 8.”
- That the scans on the 28th will indicate that the Taxol has stopped the growth of the tumors. We meet with the oncologist in Houston at 8:30 am on Friday, March 29th.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection by delivering Ann from the grip of death.
Psalm 103:2-6:
Praise the LORD, O my soul!
Do not forget all his kind deeds!
He is the one
who forgives all your sins,
who heals all your diseases,
who delivers your life from the Pit,
who crowns you with his loyal love and compassion,
who satisfies your life with good things,
so your youth is renewed like an eagle's.
Thanks for praying and caring for us.
Love,
Howard & Ann
Sunday, February 3, 2008
No Longer Seaworthy (2/3/2008)
Hello to All,
Ann lamented to me last Saturday evening, after our return from Houston the previous afternoon (1/25/08), "It's like we're starting over from the beginning." The questions and the doubts. The hopelessness and the fear. The disappointment and the uncertainty. The anger at God.
In early October a group of oncologists concluded that Ann's tumors looked dead, so our oncologist recommended that we drop the Taxotere to see if Gemcitamine alone would be enough to keep the tumors from growing. The goal was improve Ann's "quality of life" by reducing the side effects of the chemotherapy. At the end of November the scans showed that the tumors were nearly stable, but had grown slightly. The dosage of Gemcitamine was increased accordingly to attempt to halt further growth.
Last Friday our oncologist in Houston authoritatively stated, "It's time to change your chemo." The scans indicated that the tumors in Ann's liver had grown substantially since her last check up. The Gemcitamine alone was obviously ineffective at retarding the growth of the tumors. Sarcoma tumors typically develop a resistance to specific chemotherapy treatments over time. I assume that this is similar to how a strain of bacteria might develop a resistance to antibiotics.
Ann's lifeboat is no longer seaworthy and needs to be replaced. Will we find another lifeboat? If so, how long will it remain seaworthy? How many additional lifeboats are available? Ann has already used up four.
On Thursday Ann started her first treatment of Taxol, a cousin to Taxotere, which was effective at halting the growth of the tumors from May through October. She will receive an infusion every week; there will be no week off like the previous regimen. We will return to Houston at the end of March to see if the Taxol has slowed or stopped the growth.
To add to the discouragement the oncologist here in Dallas informed us that there was a problem with our insurance. It does not cover Taxol treatments for sarcomas. By God's grace the hospital had excess supply and agreed to treat Ann for four weeks. In the meantime we will need to work with the insurance company to authorize treatment. The possible repercussions of this setback are overwhelming.
Three Options:
I see three options for responding to our present discouraging circumstances.
1. Curse God and chuck the faith. Should I follow the example of Job's wife and advise Ann to quit the faith (Job 2:9)? Perhaps God doesn't really exist. Perhaps he's not all-powerful. Perhaps the Bible isn't true.
Or should I follow the example of Peter, who understood there was no other viable option? When asked if he also was going to forsake Jesus, Peter responded, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life" (John 6:68). Why would we abandon our only hope for this life and our guarantee for eternity? I've publicly vowed to never quit the faith and I intend to keep that vow.
2. Accept reality and quit praying for physical healing. The cancer has started to grow again. Does this indicate that God is not planning to heal Ann? It's been over 18 months since the original diagnosis. If God was going to heal Ann, wouldn't he have done so by now? Is God really big enough to deliver Ann from cancer's death-grip? Does he even heal today?
Should I follow the advice of a commentator on James 5:14-16? He wrote, "We do not even pray for the recovery of the sick, when the symptoms make it clear that God's will is otherwise; our prayer then is for a peaceful and painless departure."
I agree with the author that there is a time to pray for a "peaceful and painless departure." I have prayed that prayer for a few people in this last year. However, I strongly object if the determining factor is "symptoms," even if they are hopeless. Is anything too difficult for the Lord (Genesis 18:14)?
- Ten spies, who returned from reconnaissance in Canaan, concluded that taking the land was impossible (Numbers 13:21-33). Joshua and Caleb, confident that God would fight for them, took the land forty years later.
- The army of Saul cowered in fear when taunted by the Philistine warrior. David picked up a few stones, taunted the giant and killed him with his sling, because he knew the battle was the Lord's (1 Samuel 17).
Shouldn't I follow the example of Joshua, Caleb, and David? I don't find any encouragement in the Bible to give up, just because the circumstances are impossible. I've publicly vowed that I would never quit praying for Ann's physical healing; I intend to keep that vow.
3. Accept reality and keep praying for physical healing. Shouldn't I follow Abraham's example? He faced the reality of his situation, that it was physically impossible for Sarah and him to have a child. He had no human basis for hope, yet he still had hope in God. He believed that God could do what he had promised, that he could give life to their dead bodies and raise up descendents too numerous to count (Romans 4:17-25). We all are living proof that God kept his promise.
Shouldn't I follow the example of the persistent widow? She kept pressing the unrighteous judge for justice for she had no other advocate (Luke 18:1-8). Shouldn't I persist in bringing my case to the righteous judge, my Father?
If God has invited me to trust him for physical healing then this is the only response I can have.
Romans 4:19-21:
Without becoming weak in faith he contemplated his own body, now as good as dead since he was about a hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah's womb; yet, with respect to the promise of God, he did not waver in unbelief but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what God had promised, He was able also to perform.
Luke 18:1, 7-8:
Now He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart… Will not God bring about justice for His elect who cry to Him day and night, and will He delay long over them? I tell you that He will bring about justice for them quickly.
Prayer Requests:
- That the insurance company will agree to pay for Taxol treatments.
- That the Taxol will prove to be a seaworthy lifeboat by stopping the growth of the tumors.
- That we can persist in trusting in God's character while we wait for his deliverance.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection from the dead by delivering Ann from the grip of death.
Thanks for praying and caring.
Love,
Howard & Ann
PS. I've added our previous emails to a "blog" website. Please pass this on to others who might be encouraged by our journey. The address is http://www.AnnYJoslin.blogspot.com/.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Two Resolutions (1/1/2008)
Happy New Year to All,
I apologize for not sending out an update shortly after our last trip to Houston at the end of November. The news was a bit discouraging and I needed some time to process. Three trips to Abilene for work and a trip to Arkansas to see Paul cut into my available time and energy. Quite frankly, I just didn't feel like I had anything to say.
I knew something was up when Dr. Steinert began the appointment by quizzing Ann about how she felt over the last two rounds. Apparently, she was attempting to assess the improvement in Ann's "quality of life" in light of eliminating the Taxotere from the regimen. She then informed us that some of the tumors had grown slightly, perhaps a millimeter or two. Her recommendation was to stay the course with only the Gemcitamine, but increase the dosage from 675 units to 800 units. Hopefully, that will bring a return to stability.
Questions often surface after the conclusion of an appointment, especially as we make phone calls on the return trip to Dallas. "Was the previous assessment – that the tumors were dead – incorrect? Have the tumors been growing slightly all along or did the elimination of the Taxotere rejuvenate the tumors, enabling them to grow again?" I will ask those questions in a couple of weeks when return to Houston for tests.
The family time over Christmas and New Year's seemed very normal. We groaned as the Cowboys lost another December game and we rented several movies with some friends. Ann shopped for Christmas presents and Matt woke us up on Christmas morning. Ann cooked Christmas dinner, and the kids and I prematurely snarfed the Christmas cookies. We enjoyed dinner at P.F. Chang's and we window shopped at an upscale north Dallas mall. We rang in the New Year with games and friends, and we indulged ourselves with chocolate fondue. We read the Christmas story and we thanked God for granting us life this last year.
Questions often emerge during "normal" times, especially on holidays. "How long will it be normal? Will Ann be here next year for Christmas? Are we naïvely praying for physical healing?" I confess that I found it difficult to fend off those thoughts the last few weeks. Ann starts Round 18 tomorrow morning.
Two Resolutions:
Like many, I've often made New Year's resolutions. I hope to eat less and work out more. I'd like to play more basketball with Matt and I wish I could spend more time studying Hebrew. The list could go on, but it's probably not necessary. Like many, my resolutions are often broken.
This year, however, I do have two resolutions that I will never break. I originally made these about sixteen months ago. Last summer I publicly promised our church family that I would keep them. I am still resolved today.
First, I will continue pray for Ann's physical healing no matter what happens – even if the cancer rages out of control, even if the doctors say hope is gone, even if additional friends die of cancer. I will keep on trusting God to physically deliver Ann from cancer in this life – unless she takes her last breath. I will keep praying. I will never give up.
Second, I will continue to worship and serve God no matter what happens – whether Ann is physically healed and lives to know our grandkids, or whether God allows the cancer to take her life prematurely. I will keep the Christian faith. I will never quit the race marked out for us.
Luke 18:1:
Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.
Hebrews 12:1-2:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. 2 Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.
Prayer Requests:
- That God would strengthen us by his Spirit so that we would persevere in faith and hope.
- That the scans on the 15th and 16th would show that the cancer has stopped growing.
- That God would physically heal Ann so that she can teach our kids and grandkids that "there is nothing our God cannot do."
- That God would demonstrate the reality of the resurrection from the dead by delivering Ann from the grip of death.
May you know God's presence and power as you trust him in 2008.
Love,
Howard & Ann
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