May 23

A friend remarked this afternoon, in her charming Scottish accent, that if she didn't know me personally, she'd never believe that our story as it's played out in recent months was true. I'm living it and I feel the same way. It's been completely unreal. But I think that's what happens during an intense spiritual battle: The stops are pulled out and bizarre things happen. So here and now, I ask you, beg you, to once again re-up your efforts on our --on Logan's-- behalf. Please. Don't just say 'I'm praying for you'; actually DO it. Because Logan needs you. Because we all need you; we need our friends ot strap on their armor Ephesians-style and go to battle with us. I don't say this judgmentally; I simply remember times in the past when I've casually commented 'oh, I'll pray for you' and then not done it. We need the prayers. Desperately.

Just to give a sampling of the past few weeks' events, I've had two personal computers completely destroyed by a particularly virulent virus; Logan developed VOD and is still hospitalized indefinitely; my wallet was stolen and the thief charged nearly $1,000 to my credit cards, which I had to cancel; Abby was diagnosed with an ear infection yesterday and while there, the doctor noted a rash on her neck and suggested that we check her glucose levels, since said rash can be indicative of Type 1 Diabetes; and this morning, I found Isaac asleep in a dried puddle of vomit. Now this last item may seem inocuous enough, but inexplicable vomiting --and he didn't act sick today, so it IS indeed mysterious-- strikes fear into the hearts of brain tumor parents, since it can be indicative of a mass.

This is NOT normal. I look enviously at the lives of most of my friends and neighbors, quietly coveting the simplicity that seems to define their days, and wonder why our collective family life has gone into such a tailspin; why we're on the Teacup ride from hell. I'm trying, as Heidi urged me, to remind myself that God thinks I matter, but it's hard. It's hard to have faith, but I'm hanging on by the tips of my toes, the skin of my teeth and every other silly expression there is for 'just barely sliding by with my sanity reasonably intact'.

It's a brutal battle, but I know that ultimately, God is in control and is on OUR SIDE. God is very much in the business of healing, and I believe that he WANTS to heal Logan. As a matter of fact, I believe that God Himself assured me of that a few days ago. I was IMing a friend and I made that very statement, but when the text appeared in the dialog box, the word 'wants' had been mysteriously bolded. And as I remarked to my friend, I don't even know how to bold text in the Facebook IM program.

Even as I write all of this, I fear judgment. I know that some of you probably think I've fallen off the proverbial turnip truck. And that has to be okay, even if it pains me to feel like someone may think I've lost it. I'm merely living out faith as I see it; faith is believing in things when they seem unlikely or even impossible. It's throwing your whole heart into believing, it's getting out of the boat, it's trusting with your heart when your head screams No way, you idiot!. It's facing challenges --and battles-- and offering them up to God instead of trying to fight them by myself. It's taking a risk and asking for prayers and being truthful even though I fear that judgment.

I've been challenged by Mark 11:22-24 for weeks now. The passage reads:

"'Have faith in God' Jesus answered. 'I tell you the truth: If anyone says to this mountain 'go, throw yourself into the sea' and does not doubt in his heart but believes that what he says will happen, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayers, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours'."

And this is where the rubber meets the road for me: Do I believe it's valid? Do I believe that the scripture here is true, or a lie? Because it can't be both; it's either fully truth or fully false. And if I believe it's true, do I dare to act on it? Do I dare to believe? I need to get out of the boat. I've felt that deeply lately. I need to embrace this scripture. But I've also been convicted that prayer is absolutely essential when it comes to Logan's healing, so I come once again to Logan's Army.

Thanks for sticking with me through this long-winded entry, and for being a member of Logan's team. Thank you for praying for his complete healing; for the health of each of the rest of us; for peace, for strength, for wisdom, for perseverance, for hope, for amped-up, crazy faith. We want that testimony. We want to share it with the world. We want to put our stranger-than-fiction journey out there as a testament to the power of the Creator.

Blessings to you and yours.