Surgery Day! 9/4/14

Has it almost been a week already? I’ve wanted to write this post but have honestly been too emotionally overwhelmed and in shock that this is really over. Medically uneventful. Miraculous. Short. For a few days, I would just look at Luba with a questioning look as if waiting for the other shoe to fall.

You can scroll back a few blogs for more background on what I had going on or what I was feeling. Basically, I had a very rare tumor called a vagal schwannoma. It’s on the “main dog” cranial nerve. Removal of the tumor promised vocal cord paralysis and temporary-permanent difficulty swallowing safely. I had surgery scheduled for March to “cut the nerve” and remove the tumor. Luckily, I’m one who researches and is slow to trust medical professionals when my “inner voice” or gut feeling is screaming inside. I ask a lot of questions and need adequate answers to feel satisfied (which is reasonable and should be the case for everyone). Something didn’t sit “right” and some medical professionals bravely chimed in along the way encouraging me to wait and further explore options.

Some questions to the initial surgeons in February:

Can I wait until after the wedding in April? No

Is this an emergency? Yes

Is there any way to do surgery and save the parent nerve—such as leave a small piece? No

Will I have a voice? It will be between a whisper to very hoarse.

What about the scar and my wedding? Photoshop does wonders for pictures.

After excruciating months waiting, fighting and experiencing some awesome mini-miracles and promises along the way, I got into UCI and had highly specialized surgeons on board to assemble my surgical team and they were willing to listen, collaborate and offer a newer medical procedure called intracapsular enucleation (IE). They actually offered the choice between “watching and waiting as there was NO HURRY” or surgery. Surgery was the best choice for me. That question about saving the parent nerve? Oh yeah, that’s IE. Based upon my conversation with the top surgeon performing this procedure in the USA, about 50% of surgeries with IE can result in minimal effects and no vocal cord paralysis. To date, he has seen no regrowth from the tumor piece that is left on the nerve in his cases over the last 30-40 years. This was what I felt most comfortable with in terms of treatment and moving on with little worry. Many choose to wait since it is benign and the procedure is risky.

Fear of course crept in from time to time but I always felt God whisper a couple things:

I’ve given you this voice. I won’t take your gift but I will enlarge your territory.

It is done. “It is done” is something I felt on a daily basis no matter how I was feeling. I just felt like I was given an inkling of foresight although I wouldn’t know details.

I prepared for this battle for months. A battle for life, for freedom is exactly what it felt like. I joined a FB group with those with the same diagnosis. Some have had surgery while others are waiting or are in the process of having surgery. It was nice to be in an online community where others understood my every feeling. They were transparent regarding their experiences and post-surgical complications whether temporary or permanent. I researched, I fought systems and procedures (including the insurance company), I prayed, I bathed myself in healing scriptures and songs, and I assembled a prayer team that would serve as the Navy Seals in the spiritual world. For every moment that I was under anesthesia and in surgery, there was someone designated to pray for 15 minutes up to 1 hour. It was a carefully assembled team of those who were able to commit to drop everything and ONLY intercede on my behalf. They prayed for the surgeons and surgical teams. In addition, there were countless others who prayed as time allowed or as the Spirit moved. There were churches praying – churches that I have never attended or heard of. Moms and Grandmas that I do not know personally were praying. From one end of the earth to the other across time zones, people prayed in unison. I can only imagine the thin line between Heaven and Earth in those moments. The thought of it brings tears every single time. The countless texts with scriptures about healing just solidified what I already knew. Those texts have rolled in along the way and continued throughout the morning of the surgery. So many made sure that I would receive those messages before going in. That experience of community and “an army assembled” is truly indescribable.

My mom drove in from Mississippi and arrived Tuesday night before my scheduled surgery Thursday. We all checked in to the hospital at UCI by 6am. I felt eerily calm. Maybe sleep deprivation helped? The staff was quick to check me in and get me started. I was so thankful because the waiting was the worst and waiting had gotten so old by this time.

They came to get me and walk me into preop. I giggled as I saw the room I was headed to and heard the nurse say “I have #7 checking in.” Seven. My favorite number. Of course, I was in 7. Seven has significant spiritual significance and represents the foundation of God’s word. It is the number of completeness and perfection both spiritually and physically. “It is done.” A wave of calm and peace washed over that cannot be explained. I was ready. I had been obedient. I had listened. I had stepped up to the line as far as I could go and I knew that God would complete the rest in a most miraculous way. My favorite line from one song that became relevant for me (It Is Well by Bethel) was:

And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

We had some fun in preop as I waited for the surgery time. My mom, her husband Joe and Luba stayed in before Mom and Joe left in order to leave Luba and I with some last moments of quiet. I’m thankful for those few sweet moments of vulnerability. I loved the anesthesiologist team and they went above and beyond for my comfort and finding the best for me including searching for a smaller endotracheal tube (and she scored the last one in the hospital AND negotiated it from the person about to place it in a man). My endotracheal tube was larger than average due to the nerve monitoring features. I was wheeled into the OR by the anesthesiologists and then O-U-T with no warning or countdown. I asked the nurse to take a picture of the tumor and then I woke up in recovery. Maybe they shut my bossiness up because I had also reiterated that although I did not care who watched what, I did not want residents touching any cranial nerves. This procedure was tricky enough and saving my vagus nerve by highly specialized surgeons was described by one as “dicey” although they would do their best.

I can’t describe the feeling of facing the unknown before going under. With most surgeries, you have an idea of the aftermath of the procedure or you know WHAT is coming out. For me, they couldn’t identify the cranial nerve to which it was attached with certainty but I knew it was “probably” one of 3. If it wasn’t the vagus, I knew they wouldn’t salvage the nerve and I would wake up with paralysis of some sort or deficits. Because of the importance of the vagus, they would spend time to avoid disruption to this one only. Still, I knew that I may wake up with some deficit and I knew it would still be “okay.” I was aware that when God assures you that you will be “okay” it may not be in the way you expect. I knew the learning curve all too well of how long it takes sometimes to realize that you ARE okay and there was a plan all along. Still, “it is done” washed over each thought and fear.

I had two teams for my surgery. Although this tumor did not appear to be malignant, both teams are specialized in oncology and neck/skull base tumors. An ENT team did the opening/closing and navigated TO the tumor. She had to get to the tumor without damaging other cranial nerves along the way as well as major arteries and veins (the tumor was nestled by my carotid artery and jugular vein). The neurosurgeon used a microscope to perform the surgery on the tumor/nerve. All nerves were monitored throughout. The surgery took less time than expected being between 4-5 hours surgical time.

I woke up in recovery, alone with a nurse. I have never felt as vulnerable as that moment. What was my new reality? She said they wanted a few minutes with me before calling in the family. The first thing I did was check my vocal cords. I cleared my throat. I thought of something to mutter to the nurse. Was this real? One of the surgeons came in and asked me to stick out my tongue and then to vocalize. She left. I asked the nurse if I lost any function. She said no. My mom and Luba came in. I was still groggy but could see by Luba’s expression that something must be “big.” I then questioned facial paralysis. He asked if I had seen “it” yet. I had not. I assumed it was bandaged but it wasn’t. He took a picture so I could see. These are the pictures I saw—my first glimpse of the surgical site.

Shortly after, I went to the postop room where I would end up spending the night. When I went to the room, I asked for water and was offered a clear diet. I devoured that plate. The ENT team came in to check in. I was immediately bumped up to a regular diet. Really, no swallow study?! A few hours after this risky surgery, I was eating a quesadilla and drinking coke all the while  TALKING to my mom or Luba.

I had no pain other than that migraine that had been following me for weeks. I had no sore throat which was promised to me by the anesthesiologist due to the size of the tube. My mom spent the night with me – no cot, only a hard chair. I so miss family. This time was a gift. With who else can you be as vulnerable? By rounds the next morning, I incessantly asked when “check out” is. I was ready to take my grateful heart home.  At noon Friday, they removed the drainage tube (Ouch!) and discharged me. I was headed home in less than 24 hours after the surgery concluded. I had a bandage to be worn for 24 hours while the drain tube site healed and then removed with no further covering.

Since being home, I’ve experienced minimal pain. I’d describe it as “discomfort” from time to time as the site heals and itches and stretches. Daily, swelling goes down and range of motion increases. I have had barely a sore throat here and there. I’ve eaten everything I have wanted. I’m just trying to be still (SO hard for me) and continue healing. I know an infection could result from carelessness. I’m careful to avoid lifting or straining the neck. All of this? Pale in comparison to what real possibilities were.

The scar? HUGE but I’ll take it. It reminds me of provision. It reminds me that I’ve been entrusted with yet another miracle. It reminds me that I’m loved in the Heavens and across the Earth. It reminds me that I have a story that must be told. It reminds me that I’ve been given much and with that gift comes expectations and duties. It reminds me to love better, stop and smell the flowers, and worry less. It reminds me that we all carry an unseen burden so lead with kindness and grace. It reminds me that even in my darkest times, a host of people will come running with their lights to show me the way, fight on my behalf, and love me through the process. The scar reminds me that humanity is good and we are one. Will I hide it? Never.

Thank you for your part in this journey. God did this, but He worked through so many of you in a very tangible way.

With a very grateful heart,

Danielle

Extra pictures (warning: "IT" is in here)

who I felt like when I checked IN to the hospital for surgery

Mom & I spending time before surgery day 

"It" aka "Testy"

Hooray! It's over! And I can eat hot dogs! Much needed play time awaits Luba and me

Proudly sporting this scar, standing next to the best choice I ever made

The BIG DAY is almost here! Good-bye "testy!"

Well, I wanted to update once more at least before the big day, surgery, on September 4. I’m so very grateful that so many are in my corner, on my team, gathering the Earthlies and Heavenlies together. Prayer support has spanned the globe. How cool is that? I am loved beyond measure. People are praying that I do not even know. I have never met some of the people who are spending quality time interceding on my behalf. Stop it-it’s too good (don’t really stop it, you know what I mean).

Luba and I went to preop Friday to take care of paperwork and have some tests run. I shuttered a bit as she recalled surgical risks. I’m not even going to put them in writing but they are very real and can be permanent in nature. As for as health and preparedness, all looks good and we are ready to go next week. My stomach turns as I say “next week.” Is it really here already?

Speaking of stomach turning, I was really hit hard this weekend. After I got home from preop, I started feeling poorly. Well, actually, I was light headed all day last Thursday. By Saturday morning, I had a nasty cold. Being the proactive person I am (and over anxious to not delay surgery), I hit urgent care early and got some staples to kick this virus. With that medication regime and your sweet prayers, I was healed ever-so-quickly by Saturday night. Then, I woke up Sunday with EXTREME stomach pains that came in waves and were so intense that I would sweat profusely and nearly vomit and pass out. Luba also noticed a weird red patch on my arm that quadrupled in size during the night.  Back to Urgent Care I went. I did earn the “Duchess” award on yelp for my 2 visits in one weekend. Bam! Stomach flu. Bam! Cellulitis. Does anyone under 60 have this? It just sounds like a more mature illness. Needless to say, constant pain with waves of piercing pains (that send you bent over or to the fetal position) coupled with the inability to eat or sleep can wear one down physically and emotionally. It’s those moments when vulnerability really sets in. It sneaks in like a thief during those wee morning hours when all is quiet and appears serene and you are lying there in pain (whether emotionally or physically) as if you are the only person in the world or awake. So much is simply out of our control. In those moments, fear and doubt so easily creep in and often comfortably settle in to our souls. It was in those moments, that the surgical risks began to replay in my mind. I had to remind myself that I’m going to be okay, and in those moments it wasn’t easy. Faith is a choice. It’s like looking in the pantry to find that can of rotel tomatoes (for the Southerners) and you keep being bomarded by other cans of things you don’t need falling out. You have to move cans, shuffle things, but keep looking. There it is! Way back in the back corner! You have to reach, grab a step stool if you must, and pull that baby out! Got it! That was me. I had to reach past those loud voices coming in shouting the likely risks and “what ifs” and hear again that still quiet comforting voice that says “you will be okay. I’ve got this.”

It was my last weekend that I kept totally open to study for my licensure exam coming this Saturday (8/30). How will I pass this thing?! I banked on that time frame for the last portion that required my full attention. Passing that baby will be a miracle on its own! I’ll take it and do the best I can. Some things are just out of our control. That happens. Just do your best with what you have.

Y’all, can we all just take a moment to celebrate Luba?! God bless that man. He came here last October just in time to ride this roller coaster of watching me study-fail the exam-recover-freak out-study again, medical appointments, tests, and illness. He has learned more about the American health care system and insurance than he ever dreamed. He has been so patient and understanding. The support has been unreal. I contribute my strong stand and perseverance to that guy. A gem. A gift. When this is behind us, I’m hoping we can finally share some FUN adventures together like short day trips, road trips and just enjoying the CA weather and lifestyle, very few of which we have been able to do since his arrival. We’ve wanted to host more dinners and spend more time with others but just have not had the chance. We have had marriage boot camp and I know we are better for it, but dang, can we just get a break?!? You can just see how kind he is by his sweet face. I'll not mention all the mockery that has gone on in this house this weekend--which is NOW funny, now that I'm on the mend.

Throughout this all, I'm reminded to celebrate: 
Health. Love. Second chances. Companionship. Friendships. Prayer support. Being able to speak. Moving from sharts to farts (oops, did I just say that? Stomach flu win). Adventure. Life.

Go celebrate. Press onward. Believe in miracles. Eat more rotel tomatoes in your recipes.

Putting my trust in UCI physicians but my faith in the Great Physician – thank you for covering me so completely,

Danielle

P.S. For those of you who don't know what rotel tomatoes are, you should learn. Top shelf in grocery. $1 can. Throw those in a chicken spaghetti recipe (Southern potluck fave) or warm Mexican dip in the crock pot. I’ll teach you. 

I needed a loofah. This may be the most expensive one I have ever purchased. My wash regimen for a few days before surgery.

Being Brave

If you are just tuning in, you may want to catch up with a couple posts (this one & that one) to know what is going on.

Caught up? Welcome back! Thank you for checking in and keeping up with what is going on.

I think my last blog post regarding my medical journey was that I finally made it to UCI and was seeing the ENT surgeon that I fought for and was given the decision of “wait and watch” or surgery. I’ve decided to continue with surgery. If you know me, you know that I do not “wait and watch” well. For me, I need the facts. I need to face the wall and move past it. The hardest part of the past 8-9 months has been wondering about the surgical procedure and aftermath. I need to close this chapter and move on with life. This can’t own me anymore. Another huge factor is that I know I’m going to be okay. I’ve had so many “Only God” moments that have given me peace throughout the process. I’m not alone. I already feel this “It is done” feeling in advance.

I just received my date for surgery: September 4 @ 8:15 a.m. (Thursday).

Before I went to the GodChicks conference this June, I had been thinking for months about the word “brave.” 

I had recently introduced it into my vocabulary at work, speaking it over my clients, in lieu of superficial adjectives (which stems from this post). Unbeknownst at that time, I’d need this word myself. How would I know that I would need it spoken over me almost daily like an anointing, a confirmation, a declaration? How would I know that I would choose it as an anthem, so to speak? When I went to the GodChicks conference, I chuckled when I saw the theme: Be Brave (Oh God, you stinker, you always drop these nuggets in for me). I knew I would glean so much from the weekend when I laid my eyes on that word, my word. It felt like I had been administered a booster shot to continue on with the sustenance I had gotten (and continue to get) through words I’ve been given from others, only-God moments, prayers, and messages whispered to me through prayer and quiet time. There are always small gifts & tokens that we are given at the conference but this year they were far more meaningful and served as daily reminders. What you surround yourself with matters.

The word BRAVE and what it means really became personalized a few months ago. One evening in the middle of some difficult emotions, I just prayed. It was all that I could do. I honestly prayed to see Jesus in my dreams. A bit lofty but I was desperate for something. For some clear message. Anything. I went to sleep - expectant. I awoke in the morning a bit disappointed because it was not what I had anticipated. Had He not heard? It felt like an extension of my work day. In my dream, I had seen clients’ faces. I had seen families’ faces. I saw them as they journeyed through the emotions and stages of grief that often comes with a diagnosis. I saw them smile with each milestone reached. I saw gratitude. I saw joy eclipse every other emotion. I saw myself working with them equally rejoicing over the tiniest step toward something bigger. I saw myself celebrate steps that I used to overlook. Then it hit, “You DID see me. Just like you ‘get to’ see me every day.” I’ve always said that I feel I meet Jesus daily. He’s in the desperate parent. He’s in the child that has to work much harder to meet milestones. He’s in the child who may never meet certain milestones. He’s present when we celebrate tiny steps in lieu of “big” milestones. I realized that I’m blessed with daily inspiration. I am surrounded by BRAVE people every day, almost as if they are already whispering encouragement back to me by just allowing me to be part of their journey. For a long time, they have modeled bravery in its highest form. Through this journey, “the teacher becomes the student.”

Storms come. Bad things happen. We can’t avoid them. We just have to brace ourselves and keep walking, which means walking toward the giant, the storm. Control typically is not in our bag. What we can do and can control is our perspective and make choices. Choose joy. Warrior up. For me, I’ve chosen to “be brave.” I’ve chosen to find joy in the midst of the heartache, disappointment, and range of emotions. I’ve chosen to believe when I can’t see. I can’t wait & watch. I can’t bask in a pity party (well, sometimes I indulge myself a couple minutes here and there). There are people on the other side of this battle waiting for my experience. There’s glory that will be witnessed. This is part of my story- a chapter I would not have chosen of course – but clearly one that is essential for the rest.

I’m constantly reminded by the verse that my mom always shared with me and I’m using it as my “battle guide”:

¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. ¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

Ephesians 6:14-18

For me, I am choosing to continue to find joy and see and focus on the Only-God moments that come as I keep walking onward- straight into “it” (one could even add a –sh to “it” and get a feel for what the situation is). I have surrounded myself with various levels of support—from the friends to the strongest of prayer warriors that have committed to praying daily. A strong team of prayer warriors have signed on to pray literally through every. single. moment. of the surgery. How amazing is that?! People have chosen to pray fervently for 1 hour. An hour! I can scarcely process this love and support. I’m literally streaming tears as I even type that. To keep up my own encouragement, I bathe myself in verses about courage/strength/provision and listen to worship songs. I have to battle the fears, which are legitimate. There are some very real risks involved; however, it is out of my control. This is an unfortunate situation in which I find myself and I am aware of the risks but I have to move forward and press into it with positivity. Of course, the risks and fears are not dismissed or ignored but focusing on them is too harmful. It breeds unnecessary and unrealistic fears.

I’ve just come across this song by Bethel, “It is Well.” Listen to it here to hear how just how beautiful it is but the words are themselves like an anthem.

Verse 1
Grander earth has quaked before
Moved by the sound of His voice
Seas that are shaken and stirred
Can be calmed and broken for my regard

Chorus
Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
Through it all, through it all
It is well

Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
It is well with me

Verse 2
Far be it from me to not believe
Even when my eyes can’t see

And this mountain that’s in front of me
Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

Bridge
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name 

It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul

Thank you for your support and encouragement.  It’s truly a gift.

It is well.

Love,

Danielle 

P.S. If you have the gift of time on the surgery date and you feel called to serve in this manner, please contact me for a doodle request to come on board the prayer team!

Surviving the Wilderness

Last time I posted, I indicated I’m on my medical journey which is really bringing my “theme of the year” to its fullest potential (freedom, through vulnerability).

It feels like every time I turn a corner, I’m slapped in the face by some disappointment or dead end. But also, every time this happens, I feel caught by a soft net intricately woven with prayers, tears, hope, grace, and the Holy Spirit. There’s some word of encouragement, email, gift....something to remind me that I’m not in this alone.

I got denied my requested 2^nd opinion at UCI this week, which was my biggest prayer request “of the moment.” There was not any reason for it, other than cost I’m sure. I was devastated (still am). I frantically called my insurance group and the parent company. After 2 hours on the phone, I just didn’t have anything left in me. I came home and ate (thank God for Luba and his willingness to cook) and then opened up my Beth Moore study’s workbook. The first thing I laid my eyes on was one of my favorite verses that had been buried in the back of my mind somewhere:

The sigh of relief came. A simple reminder. I could rest my spirit.

This week was full of surprises from Luba’s sweet gifts and generosity to a very sweet card with a favorite lotion attached at work from an anonymous person (who are you?). 

Luckily, each day I have had just enough “fight” in me to press on with what I need to do. I was reminded of this in last week’s study (Beth Moore) in regard to the Israelites in the wilderness. They were given manna when wandering through the wilderness but it was given according to need. None could be “stored up” or saved for another day. They gathered what they needed day by day. God’s grace is given according to need. It’s been a lesson for me to focus on “daily” and not work ahead.  I've panicked many times but now realize that I have "just enough" every single day, even when the night before I'm at a loss and thoroughly exhausted and bone-dry. I’m realizing how little control I have in life although I’ve been deceived for a while in believing I’d been successful in this. 

This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Gather of it, each one of you, as much as he can eat. You shall each take an omer, according to the number of the persons that each of you has in his tent.’” ¹⁷ And the people of Israel did so. They gathered, some more, some less. ¹⁸ But when they measured it with an omer, whoever gathered much had nothing left over, and whoever gathered little had no lack. Each of them gathered as much as he could eat. 
Exodus 16: 16-19

While “waiting” through the insurance and journey to health, I’ve been able to have some fun with concentrating primarily on wedding planning!

Today, I was fitted for my dress. Luckily, it still fits after hanging in the closet for almost a year!

Luba & I have also gotten out to enjoy the beach. The vastness and freshness of the ocean is truly one of the best medicines.

Please keep me in your prayers. Feel free to email me for specifics. I’m so thankful for you and your support. You keep me a-float!

Love

Danielle

Enveloped by my people - thankful

I last posted that I was going through a medical journey. It continues. I’m still not ready to post specifics online, but many of you know the situation and are part of my “army.” Thank you.

I’m learning a lot along the way—a lot of things that I don’t want to learn and a ton of things about myself and my inner workings. Each morning I wake up and hope that I’ve been dreaming. Each morning I’m disappointed. The realities are renewed every morning and it's painful. Luckily, God’s mercies are too. Wiped clean are remnants of the faith-shaking questions that all begin with “Why…” and the consequences of my human reactions. I always find myself thinking that this situation is best fitted for a pedophile, human trafficker, [insert here any crime that makes you wanna vomit] etc. My wedding is a short time away and I long to be one of those giggly bride-to-be’s who is attending to last minute details and semi-starving themselves to fit in a dress. I long to explore the area and serve/host with Luba but we started this journey as soon as he arrived. After all the waiting for his arrival and the paperwork, celebrations have been interrupted with “this.” 

Each time the “Why” has seeped in over the last few months, I always feel this from God and I have consistently time and time again, “Because I will shine brightest in you.”

I’m exhausted. The steps it takes to self advocate with insurance are daunting on top of working 40-50 hours per week, adjusting to Luba’s and my life together, finishing fieldwork, doing “life,” and planning a wedding. I’m terrible with the unknown. I’m a do-er. I research. I make lists. I network. I connect. It’s so hard for me to wait. To listen. To primarily have prayer as my weapon and comfort. To leave my care in the hands of others.

I’m so appreciative of my people. I’ve had consults with physicians at no charge, thanks to friends’ referrals & connections. I’ve had a network that has stepped up and made recommendations. I’ve felt the Heavens move with prayers of so many, with many praying in unison across the country. It’s palpable. Blessed is an understatement.

There are truths that I repeat to myself every day over and over and over again. A few that have been specifically shared by others via text and letter are:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Psalm 91:

You who sit down in the High God’s presence,
    spend the night in Shaddai’s shadow, Say this: “God, you’re my refuge.
    I trust in you and I’m safe!” That’s right—he rescues you from hidden traps,
    shields you from deadly hazards. His huge outstretched arms protect you—
    under them you’re perfectly safe;
    his arms fend off all harm. Fear nothing—not wild wolves in the night,
    not flying arrows in the day, Not disease that prowls through the darkness,
    not disaster that erupts at high noon. Even though others succumb all around,
    drop like flies right and left,
    no harm will even graze you. You’ll stand untouched, watch it all from a distance,
    watch the wicked turn into corpses. Yes, because God’s your refuge,
    the High God your very own home, Evil can’t get close to you,
    harm can’t get through the door. He ordered his angels
    to guard you wherever you go. If you stumble, they’ll catch you;
    their job is to keep you from falling. You’ll walk unharmed among lions and snakes,
    and kick young lions and serpents from the path.

“If you’ll hold on to me for dear life,” says God,
    “I’ll get you out of any trouble. I’ll give you the best of care
    if you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times;
    I’ll rescue you, then throw you a party. I’ll give you a long life,
    give you a long drink of salvation!”

One of my last posts is still very much relevant and the lyrics posted below are like balm to my soul (“Oceans” by Hillsong, google it so you can hear the beauty of the lyrics).  At any moment, a small pull of the string may leave me completely unraveled. I’m still doing my best, while exhausted and confused, to keep my eyes fixed. I’m basking in the love and support of others. I’m finding my “freedom” in allowance. 

You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

This will be okay. 

I will be okay, and His light will be even brighter after the journey.

Thank you a million times over for being part of the journey. Thank you for your part in the support whether it be prayer, emotional, referrals, cheerleader, reminding me of truths, etc. 

A huge thank you goes out to Luba for so much but a few are: making calls to offices with little information, cooking, listening, and just smiling through my spectrum emotions and misguided anger. The love & laughter have been my platform on which to stand.  

Love,

Danielle