Once upon a Lifetime

Once upon a time there lived a charming tow-headed boy with bright blue eyes and an easy smile. He loved to swim in the lake, ride bikes, identify birds, play ball with his friends. He dreamed of changing the world through love. He wanted to be a missionary.

Once upon a time there lived a sweet chestnut-haired girl with eager brown eyes that caught everything. She had a sensitive spirit, loved learning, relished mission stories, and resolved in her heart that one day she would be a missionary.

She made a brief list regarding her future: 

1. I want to get married but not to a doctor
2. I will live anywhere in the USA except California
3. I will be a missionary anywhere in the world, but not Africa

One day these two children grew up and attended Andrews University. There they met and fell in love. Together they worked toward their goal, praying a lot, and God answered their prayers. They moved to California where Jamie became a doctor.

While in residency, Jamie twice brought home stories of mothers of young children dying of cancer. Those stories pierced his wife’s heart, and she tearfully pleaded with God for those families!

Then they received a call to be medical missionaries to Malawi, Africa.

Shred that list! 

The first year in Malawi felt like doing the army crawl through a violent battlefield. They questioned if they were following God’s leading or stubbornly following their own wills… .

........................................

A few people indicated that they believed we were under Satanic attack that year. We felt isolated, wounded, searching for a safe place to hide and tend our wounds as we inched forward. Our family also shook with a serious blow before we crossed the ocean as missionaries. Tenaciously we said, “We Crounses are not quitters. We are here unless we receive a clear message to leave.” Nevertheless, I thought I hated my life.

I was desperate for our first annual leave. Two months before we left on annual leave, I fired our first gardener, a thief. Two weeks before annual leave, the seven men excavating our yard cautioned me to never let the ex-gardener return to my house because he would be coming to curse me with black magic. When that very day he showed up uninvited, the excavators melted into the wall. His visit was brief. After we silently watched  him walk down our long broken mud brick driveway, turn onto the street and disappear into the kaleidoscope of chitenges and baskets, I asked the workers if they were all Christian. “Yes, Madam.” I read to them from the Bible that God is Almighty, He has defeated Satan, therefore we do not fear. Bold for a woman who just survived a year of being afraid. “Yes, Madam.” It was dutifully spoken.

Finally, Atlanta!! It felt like Christmas when we landed! I begged Jamie not to make me go back to Malawi. Please, please let me stay here where I feel safe and don’t get electrical shocks when I cook. He just looked at me.

Then I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Clearly it was another attack of the enemy, a culmination of the year. We were laid low, moaning. I had thought I hated my life until threatened with the possibility of losing it. I told God that if He healed me, I would go back to Malawi. I wouldn’t complain any more. I was not bargaining with Him; it was a commitment. I believed that those excavator men would believe that I was sick because of black magic. I wanted to show them that God is indeed mightier than Satan, and that Satan could discourage people but he could not defeat God. We learned that my cancer was DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ, stage 0) Bad news and good news. Good news was they could remove it all. With a double mastectomy I would have a less than one percent chance of ever getting this type of cancer again. Healed! God wins! I could walk forward in life. We were going back to Malawi!

With that victory, the enemy seemed to retreat. Each year was better after that. Without realizing it, we found ourselves loving Malawi, the Malawian people, the missionary community, the expatriates near us, our life. During our first year I was so frustrated when people visited us any time they wanted! Soon I found myself loving it! I felt lonely if no one came by. I cherished being a member of the phenomenal Malamulo family. We were all there for one purpose—to see the hospital flourish, to improve the lives and health of the people around us, as quickly and thoroughly as possible. It was an awesome experience to be a part of a team united around a single goal. It truly was beautiful, even in its imperfections.

Every day since I held my firstborn son, my heart ached with gratitude for our life together, and my soul burned with sorrow when I heard stories of mothers dying while their children were little. I fervently prayed, “Thank you, God, for each precious day of life we get to share as a family.”  In the mission field, my children and I prayed daily, “Please make us a blessing in Malawi.” We thanked God for bringing us there. Jamie came home and said to me, “I love my job!” What a blessing God gave us!

We decided that since we had been gone so much from Malawi, we would not go home for annual leave in 2016. We would stay and work and take a smaller vacation in Africa.

One night I told Jamie, “I’ve had two years to think about this. I can no longer breastfeed a child, and the world seems so uncertain right now. I have decided that we are finished having children. We need to find a more permanent solution.” The next day I learned that I was pregnant. The next day.

Really?

Now follow with me.

I seriously considered having the baby in Malawi. Our second child was born naturally and it was an excellent experience, so I reasoned that the third one should be easier. Plus, we now had a wonderful obstetrician who is also my friend—an ideal arrangement!

While pregnant, one night I had terrible heartburn. Changing body position didn’t alleviate the pain. I went to the bathroom took Tums, walked back and forth, arched my back, doubled over, twisted and turned, took two more Tums. Diarrhea began, and then vomiting. An hour and a half and twelve Tums later, I awoke Jamie. He suspected a gallbladder attack and took me to the hospital. The surgeon, using the equipment available, thought he saw a gallstone. My gallbladder attacked a few more times until I removed all fat from my diet. In light of this development, my OB and I decided that it might be best to go to the USA to have this baby.

When I saw the OB in the USA, I asked, “Could I have an ultrasound of my gallbladder? I experienced some attacks while in Malawi and I would like to know if I will need to have it removed.” An incidental finding on the ultrasound was two masses in my liver. Another obstetrician in the group called me and made a ridiculously big deal about it. “I’m really concerned about these lesions. You need to see your breast surgeon ASAP. Call today.” Instead I made appointments with internal medicine and gastro-intestinal doctors who said that it was probably nothing. After all, by definition DCIS does not metastasize. I acted as if I believed them, but inside I trembled. Deep in my heart I knew the answer: the dark oppressive shadow of cancer. I felt that I was being torn from those who mean the world to me, the ones who need me most. It didn’t help that my husband was eight thousand miles away.  I stifled the emotions as much as possible for the time so that I wouldn’t worry my innocent little ones.

Because I was lactating, I made an appointment with my breast surgeon. When Caleb was six days old we sat in her office.

“It’s okay that you’re lactating. That’s no problem.” She headed for the door. “Oh wait, let me check this.” She shoved her hand in my armpit. “I feel something. Do you feel that? We’re going to get an ultrasound. Right now.”

At the ultrasound, the radiologist tried to reassure me. “You had DCIS? You live in Africa? It’s probably nothing serious. DCIS doesn’t metastasize.”

The surgeon said, “I’m going to biopsy that. Right now.” My legs started clapping. The nurse asked me if I was okay, and the surgeon replied, “She’s freaking out.” What are you supposed to do when your worst fears are coming true one minute at a time?

The next day the nurse called and told us that it was invasive ductal carcinoma (Breast Cancer). A liver biopsy also revealed ductal carcinoma. There was no primary tumor.

Fiercely the battle roared into full onslaught.

Do you see what happened?

If I hadn’t become pregnant, my gallbladder wouldn’t have attacked.

As a result of my gallbladder attack, I had an ultrasound.

If the surgeon in Malawi hadn’t seen a stone, we might have stayed in Malawi and not come to the USA.

Because the doctors around me recommended that I have my gallbladder removed, I asked for an ultrasound from my US obstetrician.

If they hadn’t done an ultrasound in the USA, there would have been no incidental finding of liver lesions.

Being pregnant caused my breasts to lactate, so I made an appointment to see my breast surgeon. 

Because the other OB called me at home about the liver lesions, I rescheduled for an earlier appointment with the breast surgeon.

If I hadn’t gone to see the breast surgeon, we might not have discovered that I had stage IV breast cancer until it was more life-threatening situation.

Attacked, but not defeated. Wounded, but not abandoned.

What’s my point?

Often we experience things that we don’t understand, and certainly aren’t our plans. Sometimes that involves pain. God sees the end from the beginning, and has promised that He is going to take care of you and me. "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28

I’m also realizing more about Jesus coming as a beautiful baby boy to save our lives, because God has saved my life through the birth of our precious, perfect baby boy. "For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength." 1 Cor. 1:25

And once upon a lifetime you might realize that everything that means the world to you now was once on your unwanted list. Then your heart will break…

… with gratitude.

Shallena

~ Love abundantly. See how God has led you. Look for Life.~

“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9

"Passing off the baby again"

It's 4:30 in the morning. I'm sitting on the green-tiled bathroom floor beside a smelly pile of dirty laundry, listening to my baby boy cooing in the room next to me as I type on the computer.

I've been up an hour.

Crying.

Yesterday in church I handed Caleb to a young lady who wanted to hold him. After she gave him back to me, another older lady friend came over so I handed Caleb to her. The young woman turned and commented to no one in particular, "Passing off the baby again."

Passing off the baby?

Passing off my baby?

That insensitive comment struck my heart.

Does she have any idea that when my baby was a week old, my joy was turned to sorrow? Does she know that my security was replaced with insecurity?

Does she have a clue that I daily ask if my precious tiny son knows who his mommy is, as daddy gets up with him at night again to let me sleep so that I can "get well" so Caleb even has a chance to know his mommy?

Does she appreciate the fact that his brother and sister were mine at this age, and breastfeeding soothed their every need, but this baby has no idea what comfort at mommy's breast feels like?

Does she have any concept of the hours I've mentally wrestled, trying to understand for what purpose God gave me a baby now, when He knew before I did that I had stage IV breast cancer?

Does she realize that sharing Caleb is a result of me trying to make sense of his birth at this time in my life? That I reason that the blessing that he is must be for others and not just myself?

Does she understand that I cannot kiss or hold my baby like a normal mother because of the chemotherapy?

Can she begin to comprehend how much I long for his life, for our life, to be "normal", like most new babies have it?

Does she fathom that daily I pray that I don't have to "pass off my baby" to someone else to raise, but that his own mommy gets to raise him?

Can she observe the aching of my heart as I hold my baby close, trying to fix deep memories of his mommy in his impressionable mind--willing, willing him to remember me, not knowing how long he has with me?

Does she see the struggle, the tears, the refusal to surrender, the battle with things far too big for me, the pleading that goes on all night, the exhaustion, the attempts not to think, to sleep......



Passing off my baby. I pray, never.

Not Devastated

“I think more realistically without treatment you have six months to live”.  His face was alert, keen, and intelligent.  We had only met the Medical Oncologist a few minutes earlier, but my wife Shallena had characteristically gotten straight to the point. 

“This cancer is aggressive…”  I heard echoes of the original conversation with a radiologist two and a half years ago when the presumptive diagnosis was made, and brought me to my knees.

It was another soul sigh – adding to all of those that have come before, and are yet to come – when I wondered to myself, “Is this real? Is he really talking about my wife?”  Then I looked at my wife – sincere, serene, not flinching one bit…

“That’s what I thought all along.” She had been reading him the whole time.  For those who don’t know her, she has a gift for reading people.

Our cancer journey – from the beginning in 2013, but more especially in the last several weeks -- has been a constant challenge to the core of my faith.  I have grown up a Christian Seventh-day Adventist.  My heroes in Academy were Jesus, Huss, Jerome, and Luther.  I looked way up with wide eyes at anyone who lived their life from conviction despite inconvenience.  From a young age, I wanted to join them.  I wasn’t keen on a normal life or the American dream; I wanted something real and meaningful that was honest to the core of the calling God had on my soul. 

Going on in life I have come to walk in two worlds that seem to be separated by something like a wide river.  One world is that deeply significant world I talk about in which Christian heroes lay themselves aside and sacrifice, struggle, suffer, and sometimes die in the fight for truth and the kingdom of heaven.  It would be embarrassing to say how little time I have actually spent living in this world, but have many times become excited talking about it.  Most of the time I am afraid to visit it for fear of crossing over. The other world is the one I live in – this safe world of “Churchianity” where our safe religion, job, culture, and material existence prevent any of the woes of the world from catching up with us.  We live mostly as invincible demi-gods who are accountable only to our taste and desires.  Could the two worlds be more different?  Who can cross that raging river?

“We walk by faith, not by sight” 2 Corinthians 5:7.  What does it mean to walk by faith when you have three little ones, and your wife is given what most would consider a terminal diagnosis?  All the gods of materialism just became more impotent than Baal on Mount Carmel.  Money, culture, knowledge, education and whichever other post-enlightenment god we may worship, doesn’t fork the hay for a day.  I walk by sight, and I’m very comfortable trusting my eyes, and they can see the water raging.  They can also see that talking about faith gives me a lot more control than living in it.

That is the beauty of grace.  God in His mysterious goodness stoops low to help –  I’m quaking looking at the raging water.  I want to hold on to control of my life, but don’t have any answers.  My old meticulously planned solutions don’t work. While I tremble and quiver with fear, He holds out his strong promises and guarantees them with answers to prayer – slowly, gently leading me over the water one step at a time.

As I toggle between these two worlds – venturing into faith on good days, plummeting back to sight on weak ones, I have started to become more acquainted with that river.  I still don’t know its name, but the noisy water and currents call out at me every time I cross it.  Death and doubt call out the loudest, but fear is always there adding to the raucous noise:

“You don’t know what’s going to happen”

“How are you going to raise three children?”

“It’s going to be a lonely house”

“What are you going to do?”

It used to be easiest not to go near the river, but recently I’ve noticed I have been hearing those same voices even in the other parts of my life by sight, and all of my old answers just aren’t working.

But on the good days – oh those good days!!!  The rickety walk across the river is noisy and treacherous at first, but the King holds out his staff to steady me, and about halfway over I start hearing the most beautiful music:

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want”

“If God is for us, who can be against us”

“Look to me and be saved”

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God”

“Don’t let your heart be troubled”

I want to live in that land.  It used to be more comfortable in the land of sight, but somehow…some way I can’t explain or write on this paper, God is making it more difficult to walk by sight. That is not because my faith is strong.  I’ve been many things recently, but strong is not one of them.  It is because God is strong.  Somehow, some way He has started this welcome, new, terrifying change.

Some would say, and some have said to me that having faith means knowing that God is going to heal my wife from breast cancer here and now, and that not believing that is a lack of faith.  I long for Shallena to be healed – I would love to trade my health for her disease, or anything else that I could.  Today I truly believe that Shallena is being healed.  However, the stories of Job, John the Baptist, and Jesus tell me that I don’t always know the whole story – and sometimes our greatest blessings – and the greatest advances for the kingdom of heaven -- come from the suffering we endure.  I am hoping and praying with all of my heart that Shallena is healed, but my confidence in God does not depend on it.

I would rather suggest that walking by faith in the middle of uncertainty when sight has failed means having confidence that God is still good, and can take care of us and our future, especially when it is uncertain.  Leaving far behind the noisy fear of death, doubt, and selfish ambition, and abandoning our deep-seated dogma that money can solve our problems, I want to cross over the river.  I don't just want to talk about it -- I want to live in it.  I want to let God deal with the diagnosis, the prognosis, the questions, the answers, the tears, the fears, today, tomorrow, and everything else I can’t even put into words.  I want Him to be in charge of the success of our future, so that we can stop worrying about it, and start once again to do His work.

Fortunately, there is treatment for Shallena’s cancer.  While it gives us comfort to know that medicine has treatment that can potentially extend her months to years, our hope and trust is in God. 

We have been overwhelmed by the love, support, and prayers of those who love us, and have heard about our situation.  Thank you for remembering us and all of your support.  Thank you for the empathy for our situation – it’s not easy.  But we didn’t ask God for easy.  We asked for God to use our lives to glorify Him, and to do that at any cost.  He has been given the right to use our lives for His glory, and somehow He has allowed us to have cancer to bring glory to Him.  I don’t know how He is going to do that, but I know that day by day, one faltering step after another we are going to follow Him, and take from His hand what He gives us.  One day when we can see the end from the beginning, we will thank God for the faith that he grew in us while we walked this dark part of our path.  We have struggled, we are still barely crawling, but I hear that sweet music coming from the other side.  The roaring river is fading out – it is losing its hold on us.  By nothing greater nor less than the infinite mercy of God, we are not, and will not be devastated.

“For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38,39.

Paradox

Have you heard Michael Card's song, "God's Own Fool"? It's one of my all-time favorites.

Seems I've imagined Him all of my life
As the wisest of all of mankind
But if God's Holy wisdom is foolish to men
He must have seemed out of His mind

For even His family said He was mad
And the priests said a demon's to blame
But God in the form of this angry young man
Could not have seemed perfectly sane

Chorus
When we in our foolishness thought we were wise
He played the fool and He opened our eyes
When we in our weakness believed we were strong
He became helpless to show we were wrong
And so we follow God's own fool
For only the foolish can tell-
Believe the unbelievable
And come be a fool as well

So come lose your life for a carpenter's son
For a madman who died for a dream
And you'll have the faith His first followers had
And you'll feel the weight of the beam
So surrender the hunger to say you must know
Have the courage to say I believe

For the power of paradox opens your eyes
And blinds those who say they can see

Chorus

So we follow God's own Fool
For only the foolish can tell
Believe the unbelievable,
And come be a fool as well

"For the power of paradox opens your eyes, and blinds those who say they can see." Mmm, that hits deep. I like it.

Interestingly enough, battling cancer is like that: paradoxical.

A healthy-feeling, energetic person who feels better than she has in years is told that she's dying, so she is given a potentially lethal cocktail of medicine to kill what's killing her, loses her health from the meds, finds out that she either has or doesn't have cancer, and then has to regain her health if she lives through the brew.

She is in the prime of life with a beautiful joyful family, has finally found her place and purpose, begins to see how she can make a difference, prays daily to be a blessing, and then is slammed with the news that no one wants to hear: "You've got months." All that she holds dear, all that feeling of arriving, is snatched from her at that moment. 

She refuses to accept the death sentence, believing that God's word is clear about God healing all of our diseases, (didn't Jesus do that?), yet is told so often that God's will might be her death. That is difficult to accept. "May God's will be done."

She reads the Bible, wanting to be submissive, yet her heart feels like Jacob, "I won't let you go unless You bless me." Do you notice something about that story? God had to wound Jacob before he realized who he was wrestling against. Why do we long for God and fight Him so long?

May the power of paradox open our eyes, so that the fleeting days we have on this earth may be busy following the all-knowing, all-powerful God who made Himself nothing according to the world's standards to give life to the people who wanted Him dead because they wanted to protect their way of life, paradoxically.

-sc

Hold Me, Jesus

This song currently resonates with me, whereas Jamie likes "Tell Your Heart to Beat Again" by Danny Gokey, who lost his wife unexpectedly. As Tony Campollo said, "You can always preach a hymn." :)

Hold Me, Jesus

Well, sometimes my life just don't make sense at all

When the mountains look so big,

And my faith just seems so small 

So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart

So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight you for something
I don't really want
Than to take what you give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees

And the Salvation Army band is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin

So hold me Jesus,
Cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace

--Rich Mullins

Psalm 139:16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.


Psalm 143:8  Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust mylife.

~sc

Some Things I am Thankful for

I know we have made a lot of people cry with us recently, so on the start of this Sabbath, I wanted to share some things I am thankful for.

1.  Its Sabbath, and we get to rest

2.  God is a God of love and freedom

3.  Sin and sickness will one day be no more

4.  I am married to a beautiful woman who loves God, my family, and me with all her heart

5.  I have parents who raised me to fear God

6.  I am part of a worldwide church that believes the Bible, and encourages freedom of thought and difference of opinion.

7.  Freedom to worship

8.  To be part of a dedicated and talented group of medical missionaries at Malamulo Hospital

9.  Caleb will be 1 month-old tomorrow

10.  Georgia Peaches

11.  Michigan sunsets

12.  The Rocky Mountains

13.  Yellowstone

14.  Pretty rocks

15.  God’s promises, particularly Romans 8:28 today.

16.  Eternal life

17.  Gardening

18.  The generosity and support of friends

19.  Computers and the internet

20.  Eden Valley Institute of Wellness

21.  Modern Medicine

22.  That Shallena does not have any cancer in her bones, brain, or lungs

23.  Air to breathe

24.  Water to drink

25.  Family love and support

26.  Kai and Kristi Steele

27.  That our church values Education, Health Care, and Mission

28.  Abigail

29.  Jedidiah

30.  Kittens and puppies (to make children happy)

31.  Fishing

32.  The generosity of strangers

33.  Izod seaside poplin short sleeve shirts

34.  That we are not alone

35.  The Bible

36.  Electricity

37.  Running water

38.  Cherries and blueberries

39.  Malawi Mangoes

40.  The Shanti Ruth Pediatric Fund at Malamulo Hospital, and all the lives it has saved

41.  Intimacy

42.  Miracles

43.  Ceiling fans

44.  Disposable diapers

45.  Healing

46.  Prayer

47.  Peace in the middle of a storm

48.  Love in the midst of grief

49.  Companionship

50.  Hope

The Love of My Life

“You call it a Bible study, but it’s not a Bible study.  It’s an Ellen White Study.”  I looked for a moment into the intelligent and fiery eyes of this mysterious and opinionated young lady, and pondered for a moment. 

“She’s cute!” I thought to myself. 

Hardly the romantic start of a never-ending fairy tale, but oh-so truly the start of our love affair.  The strange new girl on campus was no other than Shallena Russell, and she was working her way up my list.  We met at a Bible Study – well, actually an Ellen White study – that I was leading.  Despite fundamentally different perspectives on the nature of the exercise, we met on the level of the discussion – we both cared deeply about spiritual things.  She had come to Andrews University looking for spiritual community.  I was knee deep in a Biology degree looking for a soul mate who could help me figure out why I was doing a Biology Degree, and just about everything else in life.

I didn’t have a lot of time to lose – Shallena was hotly pursued.  As I valued her independent thought, listening ear, and raw honesty, others were also noticing.  We went for long walks, climbed trees, talked by the moonlight, and sledded down sand dunes.  Those others were becoming less relevant.  I was walking on air, she was still not entirely convinced. 

What exactly it was that convinced me is not clear even today.  Whether it was her blunt honesty in the face of doubt and perplexity, her staunch commitment to family, her love of the natural world, or her search for an authentic walk with Jesus – it didn’t take long before I knew I wanted to be in the inner circle with this Georgia Peach!

Then one sunny summer Sabbath day, I finally managed to ask her to marry me, and she finally managed to say yes.  It’s always taken us longer than other people, but once we get rolling, we usually get it done.

February 3, 2002 Shallena and I became one.  Since that day we have shared life as a family in all of its joy and woe.  I thank God for you, Shallena.

Several months after our wedding, we took a five week “honeymoon road trip” which took us to the Rocky Mountains.  Wyoming had gotten under my skin, and I wanted to show it to my new bride.  I showed her the snow-capped Wind River Mountain Range in Northern Wyoming, and it was not long until we were in it.  We had planned a five-day backpacking trip, and it promised to deliver a memorable experience.  Our first day of hiking was rigorous.  We packed our bags, started plodding up the mountain.  I’ll never forget how she got frustrated with the 13 switchbacks up one of the mountains, and just decided to go four-wheel drive straight up the incline.  At the top, a refreshing breeze cooled the sweat on our brow.  Just around the next corner was Clark’s Creek. 

Now, I didn’t know much about Clarks creek, but as we surveyed it that June day, the water level was high from the melting snow, and it was looking more like Clark’s River.  There were several logs thrown across the rocks making a precarious bridge with raging whitewater underneath cascading down the mountainside.  It didn’t look too good to me – it was unthinkable to Shallena.  I got to work sourcing logs to bolster the viability of our bridge, and finally arrived to what I considered passable.  Shallena wasn’t convinced.  I teetered across with my backpack, put it down, then crossed again with Shallena’s backpack.  Finally, I found a sturdy stick and held it out for Shallena to hold on to.  She slowly started the journey over the raging water.  One step at a time, holding on to the stick.  Gentle encouragement, a little slip, a little fear, a safe landing on the other side. 

Once safely across the river, we hugged and danced, and felt like we could do anything.  Clark’s Creek had become the best one-hour marriage enrichment seminar possible.  Our growing love had reached a new depth in trust and accomplishment.  One small step for the trip, one huge step for the marriage.  We went on from Clark’s Creek to Summit Lake, Porcupine Pass, and finally down the other side of the mountain.  It was our first trip of the sort, but became a defining event for us as we have returned to the Wind River Mountains at least 4 times since to retrace our steps. 

Shallena cried as we drove away from the mountains that had stretched and grown us. 

Then came Medical School and Residency with all of their demands.  “I miss you”.  Her sweet brown eyes fixed intently on mine.  We hadn’t planned on being a doctor’s family when we said “I do”, but God had made it clear we were supposed to go, and Shallena supported me every step of the way.  When I had more reading to do than I had time, she read to me.  I remembered best those long words that she didn’t quite pronounce right...

We went on from the training life in the United States to the working life in Malawi.  It took us a long time to get started in Malawi.  We spent many nights talking until we couldn’t talk anymore.  I will always remember her soft, calm, wise voice speaking wisdom in the middle of the night into my young and immature ears as we faced our biggest challenge yet. 

After returning from our Intern Missionary Year, Shallena was diagnosed with Breast Cancer – DCIS.  I will always remember her response – true to every non-entitled fiber in her being – “Why NOT me?”  She didn’t chafe, didn’t complain, but simply asked God for more time to raise her children, and to work for Him.  Her wish was granted. 

We returned to Malawi with a renewed energy and commitment to the work God had given us to do. 

Then a couple years later the phone rang.  I didn’t want to take the phone call, because I knew what she was going to say.  However, it was better for me than Shallena.  

“Jamie, the biopsy showed invasive ductal carcinoma”.   There were a lot of questions of how an essentially benign and fully treated problem had in actuality recurred and spread.  There had also been concerns about an ultrasound that showed a mass in her liver, and we knew too much to remain in denial. 

We asked the children to play while we sat on the porch with our newborn baby and cried.  Jedidiah saw us, “Mommy, is everything okay?  Why are you crying and praying, is somebody going to die?”

“Jamie, we have to be strong for the children.”  We wiped the tears away, and went in to play a hollow game of UNO.

Later that night as we processed the news alone, we sat and looked at each other through blurry eyes.  She knew as surely as I that this was a malignant diagnosis.  She told me I would have to get remarried because the children need a mom – providing for her family, even in the event of her absence.  I told her I was not ready for that conversation, and asked how she was being so even and composed about the whole thing.

“Jamie, when you come to a raging river, and you have no choice but to cross over, you have to take hold of the stick that God is holding out to you and go forward, even if the other side is eternity.”

So, dear friends, here we go.  We don’t know how long this journey is going to be. We do know that it ends in eternity when God has safely carried us across the raging river and wiped these salty tears from our eyes.  Why we have been given this road to walk will one day make a lot more sense than it does today.  But just as Clark’s Creek grew our love and trust in each other from the fear of it, so Breast Cancer is not a fit foe for the grace that God has already shown to our family.   We are taking it slowly, one step at a time, holding on to everything that God has given us to stabilize our stumbling feet.

As I write this tribute to My Love, she is undergoing Lifestyle Treatment at Eden Valley Institute of Wellness.  We have met caring and dedicated staff who have helped to highlight the value of lifestyle choices and simple treatments in the fight against cancer.  We came because Shallena needed some time to recover from a difficult pregnancy, as well as to process the road ahead – we are staying because we feel God has led us here.  We will be leaving Eden Valley in a couple weeks, and plan to stop by Mayo Clinic on the way home to help us with the next step in sorting out other treatment options.

I want to say a deep and heartfelt thank you to all of the friends, family, acquaintances, and strangers who have so generously given to us their love, prayers, and financial support.  We didn’t ask for it, but our dear friends the Steeles and Jefferys didn’t really give us a choice in the matter.  The encouraging words you have sent our way have renewed our strength day by day, and you have lifted the financial burden we would otherwise be bearing.  We have felt God’s divine love in the overnight community that you have become for us.  Thank you for your love.  Thank you for your prayers. 

Tonight, I have one new request.  As many of you may know, there is an undeniable psychological struggle that comes with a diagnosis that is as morbid as Stage 4 Breast Cancer.  We are gearing up for the fight of our lifetime, and there is no looking back.  God is taking us where we have not been, and every step is a new experience fraught with fear and faith.  You have already helped us by your words of encouragement and prayers, and we are eternally grateful.  My request now is if you could also share with us some of the happy memories that you have had with Shallena.  She eagerly reads the messages of support, and in the trying days ahead, those stories will give her strength.  I know not everybody has a story, or is a story teller, but for those who are, I would deeply appreciate your story about the Love of My Life.  It doesn’t have to be long, and if it’s funny, you get bonus points.  For now, I am requesting you post the story under the comments on the YOUCARING page which can be found at

https://www.youcaring.com/jamie-shallena-crounse-577970/update/483702 or on Facebook at Jamie-Shallena Crounse.

Thank you for caring, we thank God for you. 

What I am Praying For

What I am Praying For

“Daddy, is mommy going to die?”

We were laying in one of those snuggly end-of-the-day lounges where daddy is the pillow, and Jedidiah (6) and Abigail (2) were the wiggly squirming children who were supposed to be going to sleep.  That cold night back in December 2013 left me feeling chilly, but I was strong.

“No sweetie, (big sigh), mommy isn’t going to die”. 

We were awaiting a definitive surgery to make sure the good news that the surgeon had told us earlier was really true.  The workup until that point had been unnecessarily frightening, but we waited for confirmation of our guarded hope.

Finally the day came, the surgery went well.  “The sentinel lymph node was negative” seemed to be the icing on the cake, and we had a new lease on life!  Shallena was sore from surgery, but our hearts went home leaping like “calves out of the stall”.

Two and a half years later, and a few days ago we received the news that the cancer that had been cured had spread to her lymph nodes and the liver adding up to a diagnosis of stage 4 breast cancer.

Stage 4 breast cancer is something that is a little harder to stomach.  Average overall survival around two years, no accepted cure, palliative chemotherapy…

“Daddy, is mommy going to die?”

The last week has been a roller coaster at best.  While we have the sweetest newborn baby you could imagine who only wakes us up three times a night, I also have this new strange feeling in my chest.  It’s that feeling you get when your wife says, “Please don’t buy me any new clothes”, or “They are little, they need a mommy”.  Or just one of the many sporadic daily red eye sessions.  I have only felt honest to myself when I have been crying or praying – everything else has been pretense.

But in the very same week, the week that has marked our life forever, there has been a mysterious grace.  The encouragement, prayers, and support of family, friends, and even strangers is a balm to our soul.  Friends we haven’t seen or heard from in decades writing to share their support, and add their flame of faith to our flicker. The love that I feel when I look into those beautiful brown, tear-stained eyes.  Fourteen years married to my best friend, and the miracle that two willful adults could experience such love.

And then there are the prayers…we have never been prayed for as much as we have been in the last week.  The outpouring of goodwill from family, friends, churches, missions, and others has been overwhelming.  Thank you for your prayers and your support. 

As we have spent more time on our knees in the last week, I thought I would share what I am praying for.

1. That the will of God be done.  We serve an all-powerful God who created this world, and designed each of us from the dust that makes our DNA.  Disease, even stage 4 cancer, is ruled by His permissive will.  It is our desire that this trial brings glory to God, salvation to our family, and the likeness of Jesus to our souls.  We didn’t choose this, but it has been allowed to pass through the nail scarred hands of Jesus.  We pray to be faithful in the middle of it.  Please pray that God’s perfect will be done in our family, and especially in the life of Shallena.

2.  To not become bitter.   We pray that God melts our hearts through this fiery trial.  It is so easy for self-pity to creep in with a sense of entitled merit, but we pray to always remember His Grace.  Jesus—the purity of the universe-- became sin for us, and He has promised to be with us in the fire.  Please pray that we will not become bitter.

3.  The Glory of God.   We live as the unworthy objects of an infinite grace.  When Jesus was contemplating His ultimate sacrifice He said, “Now my soul is troubled and what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour?  No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.  Father glorify your name!”  John 12:27,28.  At the bottom of all of our tears is a desire that God’s goodness be seen in our lives and in our struggle.  Please pray that our story will glorify God and increase His Kingdom. 

4.  Healing.  We have asked God, and will continue to ask God to heal Shallena.  Whether it is by a miracle of a moment, by following natural laws and principles, or modern medicine, we are praying that God brings complete healing.  We will wait, follow where He leads us, and watch to see what He will do.  As He reveals His will, we will submit and praise Him for His leading in our lives.  We know there will be healing.  Please join us in praying that we will know the best course to pursue to help the healing process, and that we will recognize it as it comes. 

5.  Our Children.  We have three beautiful children who are all processing this situation very differently.  Jedidiah is more aware of the situation while Abi is just acting out her feelings, and Caleb truly does need a mother.  Please pray for our children – they need it in every way.

6. Malamulo.  For the last three and a half years our family has been working at Malamulo Seventh-day Adventist Hospital in Malawi.  We thought this was our calling, and fully planned to continue the work there.  Malamulo has stood for Christ-centered healing for over 100 years, despite the enemy’s sundry attacks.  Please pray for the Mission at Malamulo including the other Missionaries and the administration. They are doing God’s work, and now have more work than before.

^“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38,39.