A brief calm before the storm...

Hubby and the kids are out of the house working on Pinewood Derby cars. Didn't realize that I would have some time to myself today - or any day in the next few weeks. But I am glad I do.

The words that have freely flowed (in my eyes) when I sit at this keyboard, are kinda stuck. One moment I feel like I have the answers and the peace. And the next moment...not so much.

I held up amazingly well when we were in the doc's office. I heard what we needed to hear. I knew the plan and I knew that the prognosis was good. But even that is difficult to hear because it is not just your routine, "Oh he will be fine when this is all over with." Those answers come out something like,"We are looking at a 70% survival rate for 5 years or more..." or something to that effect. Before all this started you always think you have %100 chance of being where you want to be in 5, 10 or 25 years. And yes, 70 is good. But it's not a guarantee. And I do know that there are no guarantees, but when staring it in the face, you realize what you are up against. I want to hear that he has a 70%chance of getting picked up for Air War College or getting selected for Full Colonel. We are celebrating around here in TX if we have a prediction of 70% chance of rain. But when it comes to a loved one, ANYTHING less than %100 is not acceptable. Here is another "percentage" for ya - of all lung cancer patients, 10% have never used tobacco products. Gee...Steve is in an elite group. Think we would rather pass on that membership.

I still firmly believe that God is in control of all of this. But it sure doesn't make the waiting any easier. I have moments when I am on the phone or chatting with someone where I feel really good and feel the hope in all of this. Then I can turn around in the next breath and swallowed up in sadness. I get dizzy and nauseous and feel like I can't breathe and wonder where God is in all of this. I have to hide those moments from the kids. So I have been in my closet a lot lately. Steve understands, but I know I am not making it any easier on him. I constantly find myself apologizing to him, but he just smiles and says, "Well, one of us has to be calm, cool and collected, and one of us has to be the frayed nerve. Which do you want to be?" But I am just tired of unraveling. I keep finding what I feel are messages of hope from God. But I am scared to believe them because I never thought that God would allow the news we got on Friday.

I have been analyzing the words in Jeremiah 29:11 (the Message) in the last several days preparing myself for this time. "I know what I am doing. I have it all planned out -" Okay, that is why we are here. Got it. Couldn't be more plain. "...plans to take care of you and not abandon you,..." Yep, already seeing it. The doc is moving quickly. Friends and family are the ready to come out, come over, and do what ever is necessary. We know we are not alone in all of this. It's that last line of the scripture that gets me, "...plans to give you the future you hope for." My future involves that big goofy guy who has 3 children that look just like him and love him more than he knows. My future is to spend our retirement going to every baseball stadium in the US with one of the biggest Johnny Bench fans. My future includes getting out all of our children's wooden Thomas trains and setting up a Thomas wonderland for our grandkids with one of the most obnoxious train nuts I have even been blessed to know.

So, I have been arguing with God. And bargaining, I'm sure. I have heard a lot lately about those strong in faith doubting God (not that I place my self in that category) - our pastor preached on John Wesley's doubting this morning. It doesn't feel like doubting, though. I argue with Him as if I could change His mind. And although I know His plan is PERFECT (no bones about that), I wonder how could putting our family and my husband through this be perfect. So I cry out (when no one is around, hopefully) and try to understand. I am so ready to turn this tapestry of our life over and see the beautiful work that God has woven. I am already sick of seeing the back - full of loose threads (me), knots (Steve) and a mess(the cancer).

Tomorrow is a big day. We have an 11am appointment with the chest surgeon for our initial consult. We are hoping he will move as swiftly as the other docs have. We don't feel anything is being rushed here. There have not been any real decisions to make. His stage and type of cancer warrant surgery. End of story. Okay, we could have probably talked about other options. But this is the way they treat it. Get it out. We are okay with that. We did not invite it in in the first place.

And on Wednesday is an even bigger day. Steve has a PET Scan to check the rest of his body for "hot spots." AKA - more cancer. I think I am the most fearful of this appointment. Nothing more to say about that.

There is so much we need to do to ready ourselves for all of this. When you are staring such major surgery in the face, you realize,"OMG! I have too many loose ends out there." And begins the tying of those ends...

1. Continue to press the AF to send another W2 for our dity move so we can file our taxes.
2. Get the cars registered here - tags expire this month
3. Get Pinewood Derby cars made - race is on the 21st
4. Get Mom out here to take care of the kids. They NEED normalcy. And Mom is as close as we are going to get... :-)


I know that I have more followers of this blog now. Initially I never told anyone about it. If they found it fine. And the initial intent of the blog (back in Dec) was to vent about the Air Force. And how Steve & I remain Christian and sane in a very political climate. And we struggle with adjusting and how God always comes through. But I guess that will change here for a while. I have a facebook account (as does Steve), but I don't feel comfortable sharing the ins and outs of our cancer (and yes, it is OUR cancer - it is not just Steve's) although I have friends who do use their accounts for that. But, as I am able, I will post. On good days, I might "wax poetic" on how wonderful God has been in all this and some days I might send a quick blurb from my iPhone because that is all I can muster. We want people to know, but we are not making this our mantra. We are the Gibsons. We love our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. He has blessed us with 3 wonderful children. Steve is the proud commander of the 331st TRS, Asst. Cubmaster to our boys Pack and oh by the way - he is battling cancer right now.

We look forward to the day where this is nothing more than a part of our testimony. Another obstacle that God got us through. And He will, it's how He plans on doing it that gives me hope and scares me all at the same time. He has only good things for us. God couldn't have given me anything better than Steve. How do you perfect that?

So feel free to stop by and see what's up. You might be surprised by my hopefulness one day or tune out the next because of my anger that I might aim at God. But that is okay, He is ready for it. I think He expects it. I think He would rather have my honesty than my poetry.

Peace to all who read...