Do Not Be Afraid

God's Message of Comfort During Our Family’s Biggest Storm

"Do not be afraid" is the most common phrase in the Bible.

A couple of weeks ago, I came across the following post from The Biblical Man:

The note brought me back to a powerful experience I had ten years ago when our family was in the midst of my wife Kristy's cancer. It's a memory I have never written about, one that I need to tell more people about.

Arrival to Mayo in Pain

Sunday, September 21, 2014

The past summer had been a rough one. It started with excitement as Kristy gave birth to our son Eric in late May. From there, we envisioned a relaxing summer together, enjoying our new baby boy and his adorable two-year-old sister, Elizabeth. But those dreams quickly changed when doctors diagnosed Kristy with cancer on June 11th - less than two weeks after Eric was born.

Kristy underwent surgery at the beginning of July. Chemotherapy quickly followed. Her doctors told us that her treatments would be over by November. Ever the optimist, I looked forward to driving back with our family to my mom and dad's for Thanksgiving, with Kristy having a clean bill of health.

During Labor Day weekend, Kristy sensed a change in her body. She did not feel well and wanted to get checked out immediately. She went downtown to Northwestern Hospital the following morning. Kristy's instincts were correct. Something was seriously wrong - the doctors had found a large new tumor in her abdominal area.

We thought she had been getting better, but this stunning development told us otherwise. The Northwestern doctors explained the latest plan to us. They recommended a more aggressive round of chemo.

We had confidence in Northwestern Hospital, but we could sense Kristy's cancer stumped them. Our patience had run thin. I immediately called the Mayo Clinic.

Here we were three weeks later, driving up to Rochester, Minnesota. A few hours before, we had dropped off Eric at my best friend's house. We then drove Elizabeth to stay in downtown Chicago with Kristy's mom and dad. While I knew they were in loving hands, I already missed the kids. It made no sense for them to come with us at this juncture. But the circumstances made me ache for them even more.

A Dose of Reality on Day One

Monday, September 22, 2014

Our first appointment couldn't come fast enough. Kristy had a miserable night, even more than usual. I felt helpless as we went back and forth between heading to the Mayo Clinic ER in the middle of the night or waiting until morning. We ultimately landed on staying in our hotel room, holding each other in bed until sunrise.

We were relieved and thankful to start getting help from the talented Mayo doctors. But their comments jarred us. Our new primary doctor told us in our first appointment, "We typically don't see tumors here that are this aggressive." I worked to stay strong for Kristy, but I wasn't expecting to hear that, not when we traveled to Mayo for a cure.

Reflection at the Restaurant

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

We had another big appointment the following morning. I was impressed by this second doctor and appreciated his direct manner. But the doctor hit us with another uppercut by saying he didn't think it made sense for him to perform surgery. Kristy looked to me for an interpretation, and I struggled for the right words to say, realizing the senior doctor was painting a bleak picture.

I felt like a zombie as I walked Kristy out of the doctor's office, taking the elevator to the ground floor of the building. I suggested we get breakfast; I wanted to reset and get us back on our feet.

I tend to look things up on my phone when searching for a restaurant. But the people were so nice there that something inside nudged me to ask a nice older woman working at a help desk in the hospital lobby. She smiled and said, "You can certainly eat here in the hospital. But, if it were me, I would go to the place right down the street." The woman's warmth reminded me of the elderly Moonlight Graham (Burt Lancaster) from Field of Dreams.

We took her advice and walked to the restaurant known for serving Dutch pancakes called Pannekoeken. The quote on their small stand-up chalkboard caught my attention as we approached the door.

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

- Anais Nin

The words hit me like a lightning bolt. I immediately thought of Kristy, although I wasn't sure why.

Was it because she wasn't fully processing what was happening to her? Was it because it felt almost impossible for us to talk about it? That we were quickly running out of time?

Or was it because I felt like I had pushed her with too much, too soon?

We had only known each other for four years, meeting in our late 30s. I asked her to marry me after one year of dating. Three months later, we had a simple, beautiful wedding in my small Iowa hometown. We quickly learned she was pregnant before we even left for a short honeymoon a couple of months after our wedding.

After our daughter Elizabeth was born, I wasn't sure Kristy would want another child. She was nearing 40 years old, and there were some struggles during and after her first pregnancy. So I was somewhat surprised but thrilled when Kristy came to me in the late summer of 2013 and said she thought it was time for us to try for a second.

God blessed us, and Kristy again became pregnant right away. When we found out it was going to be a boy, we were so happy - our little family felt complete, all within four years of our meeting.

It was a ton of changes for anyone.

For me, it was what I had been waiting for - an incredible wife and two terrific kids, a family of my own.

For Kristy, I wasn't sure. I knew I made her very happy. And I knew she wanted a family. But she probably would have been ok with pacing ourselves.

She was the one who approached me about the second child. I hadn't asked once. But did my strong personality cause her to come to me, with her knowing how badly I wanted another one?

But, if we had chosen any other course, if God hadn't clicked everything into place for us with her getting pregnant so quickly both times, we wouldn't have Eric. Maybe not even Elizabeth. And I couldn't imagine not having either of them in our lives.

Kristy and I held hands at our table as we tried to process the past two days, Our Dutch pancakes arrived, but Kristy didn't feel like eating, and neither did I. We picked at our food some before closing our tab and walking back out into the unknown of more doctor visits.

A Second Look at the Chalkboard

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Our Mayo team wanted Kristy to see one of their top radiologists, a doctor they felt was best fit to address her cancer. Unfortunately, the doctor was out of town at a medical conference and couldn't see us until the following Monday (September 29).

Kristy had talked to her mom and dad the night before and suggested they drive up from Chicago to be with her from Thursday through Sunday. During this time, I would head back to Chicago to be with the kids and then return on Sunday to be with her for the big appointment on Monday.

I felt so torn. I wanted to be with Kristy at Mayo. But Kristy was an only child, and she and her parents had immigrated to Chicago from Northern Europe when Kristy was 12. They were an especially tight unit.

There were times over these past few months when I put my ego to the side and stepped back to do what I felt was best for Kristy, to do what she wanted, whether I always liked it or not. So, I agreed with her plan.

Kristy and I went to more appointments with brilliant, caring doctors that day. One of them had an idea to deaden some nerves near the large tumor to ease some of the pain. At the end of that procedure, I saw a smile on Kristy's face for the first time that week.

I finally felt a ray of hope as I drove our car out of the garage to pick up Kristy in front of the hospital.

I allowed myself to smile as I thought about the doctors easing Kristy's pain, about Kristy getting to see her mom and dad, and about me getting to hold Elizabeth and Eric later that night. It had been the longest I had ever been away from our kids.

My route around the block took me past the breakfast restaurant where we had eaten the previous day. With my newfound optimism, I wondered what message the chalkboard had for me today.

I coasted slowly past the restaurant and swung my head to look out my window.

The words "DO NOT BE AFRAID" flashed before my eyes in a blur.

The unexpected message sent shivers through me as I stopped the car.

A horn honked behind me as I unconsciously pushed my foot on the gas pedal.

With everything on my mind, I couldn't fully process the command on the chalkboard, so it quickly evaporated from my thoughts. But whether my brain could handle it or not, it seeped into my heart and soul.

Code Red

Thursday, September 25, 2014

After picking up the kids from my friend's house late the night before, I was tired the following morning after another restless night of sleep. But seeing little Elizabeth and Eric had given me a new surge of strength.

I stayed home from work on Thursday to be with the kids and went to the local park. Kristy called and said that she wasn't able to keep food down. I told her to call our Mayo team hotline and let them know immediately. She returned to the hospital for another scan to look at the issue.

I put the kids to bed around 8 PM and was waiting to hear the results of Kristy's latest scans.

About 30 minutes after the kids were asleep, my heart jumped at the ring of my cell phone. It was Kristy's primary doctor at Mayo with distressing news. She told me to immediately pack our things and drive back to Rochester as soon as possible with the kids. It was looking like they were going to need to do major surgery the following morning and there was a 50/50 chance that Kristy wouldn't make it through the surgery.

I called my mom back in Iowa about the latest bad news, partly to let her know but mostly to get instant advice. She recommended that I call my best friend and his wife for help while she and Dad would pack, drive up, and meet us at Mayo first thing in the morning. My parents could watch Elizabeth and Eric while I was at the hospital with Kristy.

My friend's wife came to our condo to help me pack all the baby gear - baby formula, bottles, diapers, etc. My friend drove my car on the 5-hour night ride to Rochester while I tried to relax in the front passenger seat with young Elizabeth and Eric sleeping in their car seats behind us.

Our Last Two Weeks With Kristy

Kristy made it through that dangerous Friday morning surgery, but each day was progressively worse. There was always a new decision, one with no good choices. 

Kristy's tumor continued to grow faster, causing her body to fail in various ways. It became tougher to escape the brutal reality of our situation.

My extraordinary wife Kristy passed away at exactly 7:00 PM on Tuesday, October 7.

God's Merciful Message

In the four months from Kristy's diagnosis to her death, I am ashamed to say that we never attended church once. I prayed sparingly, but it wasn't enough; it was always an afterthought.

I didn't realize it until later, but God's words on that restaurant chalkboard were attempting to prepare me for everything he had lain out for us in the days to come. Not just those two harrowing weeks at Mayo culminating in Kristy's death, but the months and years after that, all of the future situations where I would have little to no control.

I clutched onto that message as I navigated life after Kristy. I didn't know how I would ever find someone I trusted to help me take care of the kids while I was at work. But God delivered beyond my expectations, bringing us an incredible woman who has helped us for ten years and who now homeschools my kids.

The phrase "Do not be afraid" was a source of strength again in 2020 and the following years.

In a world gone mad, God brought us to a better church as ours refused to open its doors because of covid, yet rallied our congregation to attend a Black Lives Matter protest.

God was there to help us pivot from public school to homeschooling, to go into the office every day, to walk into stores without masks in Chicago, to resist the vaccine.

The Real Value of Rochester

I wrote about the Mayo Clinic several years ago. As I re-read that piece, I realized that I had missed the most important part of my experiences over those two weeks and my subsequent visit to Rochester.

The Mayo Clinic had such a profound effect on me because it was the first place where I truly found God, where I finally surrendered and let God into my life.

In the last ten years, my journey with God and Jesus has continued as I get deeper into the Bible and work to apply God's word to my daily life and relationships.

I pray that I will stay on this path and that His words of "Do not be afraid" will remain etched in my heart and mind in the days and years to come.