The Lord Is Risen! He Is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.
John 11:25

The Morning of the Resurrection 1882
Burne-Jones, Sir Edward Coley (1833-1898)
Photograph by Carol Gerten-Jackson

Thank you all for your love and prayers. We have been united with you in the Spirit because you have carried us in your hearts during your celebration of the Resurrection today.

Visiting John at the hospital on Saturday morning.

I wonder if Dr. Hantel will be surprised to hear John's voice greet him in the morning? He left open a small window for the possibility, but certainly did not expect it. Lord willing, Dr. Hantel will have at least one more coherent conversation with John Fawcett. He will once again have to patiently endure John's twenty-minute response to the question, "On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your pain?" Or perhaps Dr. Hantel will be regaled by the tale of his own starring role as a double agent in one of John's incoherent dreams. Oh wait... that's what happened to me.

Charlotte feeding her Daddy the custard she made.

Beginning Saturday morning, John's mind began to clear. His lungs are still compromised and he is very weak, but it has been wonderful to have John back (culinary critiques not included).

Friends from Church of the Resurrection moving furniture to make room for a hospital bed.

Thank you all for building a wall of love and prayers around us this weekend. Blessings to you.

Good Friday

We began Lent by lighting four candles on our cross.

In the same way we add Light during Advent, we remove a light each week during Lent.

Throughout Lent we have anticipated Good Friday.

When I came home from the hospital tonight, it was time to blow out the final candle of our Lenten cross.

We remember the extinguishing of the Light of Christ as we blow out the final candle on Good Friday.

For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body.

II Cor 4: 6-11

Never before have I come to a Good Friday so aware of my need to be delivered from death.

Never have I so yearned to see the life of Jesus revealed in a mortal body.

Do you read that passage from II Corinthians the way that I do? We carry the death of Christ in our bodies so that his life may be revealed.

Yes. Death is at work.

Yes. Life is at work.

In Christ, life always comes from death. I have no earthly reason to expect to see the glory of God in John's body.

Jesus trampled down death by death.

I cannot know how God will manifest his glory through John, I only know that both life and death are at work and that Easter is coming.

In the eyes of the Oncologist, there is no hope for life. John is not responding to the treatment they are giving. The fluid in the lungs is not decreasing. There is pneumonia and, as the doc said, "funky ribs" from bone disease. John is not able to communicate most of the time. It is heartbreaking to see a quick-witted man unable to find a single word to express a simple need. If there is not a miraculous change in John's breathing, mobility and coherence, the treatment he is receiving will not continue past Monday. We will bring John home and begin hospice care.

Take heart, we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. And as my friend Margaret prayed today, "We are not ready to give John over to death. While there is breath we will pray for healing."

I hope you will not find it inappropriate if I share a small bright spot in my day. A smile slipped across my face as the thought occurred to me, "Its just like John to have a brush with death on Good Friday. Only John would wait until it was liturgically correct to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death."

Join me in praying for a miraculous Easter resurrection!

In the Hospital

I took John to the hospital for the usual IV fluids this morning. The first nurse that saw him recognized immediately that something was not right. Within minutes we were surrounded by five nurses all working to find out what was wrong. Why had John gone down hill so quickly? What was causing the confusion? I stood there with uncontrollable tears running down my face as they asked me questions. Did I want him to go into the hospital? Did I want to move to home hospice care? My head was spinning.

After checking the level of oxygen in his blood and listening to the congestion in his lungs, a chest x-ray was ordered and he was admitted to the hospital. The x-ray showed some fluid in one of his lungs. The combination of a low oxygen and high calcium seem to be the reason for the sudden crash in cognition. Dr. Hantel thought John improved throughout the day, although he is still unable to speak coherently. "John is unpredictable," Dr. Hantel said. "He may yet pull out of this." Dr. Hantel expects to have a better idea in the morning about what we can expect.

My Dad is spending the night in the hospital with John. I came home to be with the kids. I am actually looking forward to sleeping through the night without worrying that John may wander around the house in confusion.

I am feel the stretch of choosing which members of my family need me most each day.
Do I leave John to be with the kids?
Do I leave the kids again to be with John?

If John were home we would be praying this as part of Compline together.

Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Book of Common Prayer, p. 133

Dozing at Dinner

Dozing at Dinner


"Daddy! Daddy!" Everyone is trying to get Daddy's attention during dinner. Charlotte says, "Daddy, you're sleeping. I can see your eyes going down."



Daddy, Josiah just said, "The service was AWESOME." Isn't that funny?

The last few days have been difficult as John's fatigue is increasing. He has a few good hours in the morning and goes downhill throughout the day. By dinner this evening he literally could not keep his eyes open. This is usually a sign that his Calcium level is high. His level is high, 14.0 today, but lower than last week. This fatigue also comes with significant confusion. This is the scary and sad part for me. It breaks my heart to see my brilliant husband unable to remember if he is supposed to take his socks off or put them on.


Laughter in the midst...

One theory we have tossed around about the exhaustion and confusion, other than the obvious, is that perhaps John has the flu. Josiah and I both tested positive for Influenza last week. For those of you who have had it this season, you know it is awful: fever, chills, aches, coughing, etc, etc. (And did you enjoy that nasal swab for the test? a real doctor's office treat.) Josiah and I are doing MUCH better, but perhaps John is fighting it and has some unusual symptoms? After all he wouldn't run a fever since he's on Tylenol 24 hours a day.

This week, the week we walk with Jesus to the cross and meet our Resurrected Lord at the empty tomb on Easter, we ask for a miracle.


Life from death.
Nothing is impossible with God.

Falling Snow

The tiny signs of Spring from this weekend were covered with a fresh dusting of chilly snow yesterday. Our hearts feel chilled as our desires for John's quick and complete healing have taken another plunge beneath the dark ground.

Yesterday John's Calcium was 16.7 and his Hemoglobin 8.2. His kidney function (2.7) is greatly compromised. He will get a blood transfusion tomorrow. Please join us in fasting and prayer for the regression of this cancer.

Remarkably Well

Tombstone Cross

Each week is marked by numerous trips to the treatment center. We are now on a regular M-W-F schedule. This is a relief to me because I can plan my week. Up until yesterday, we didn't know how many days or which days we would have to be there.

You may remember that the level of Calcium in John's blood is the most serious health issue he is facing. Calcium in the blood is dangerous for the kidneys. Most of us never give our kidneys a second thought, but when you are relying on them to filter out deadly toxins, you need to keep them good and strong. After receiving medication and fluids this week, John's Calcium level only went down a smidge. When we saw Dr. Hantel yesterday, John's calcium had gone from 15.7 on Wednesday to 15.4. (Normal is 8. 5 to 10.5) Dr. Hantel told us that the body and brain adjust to high levels of Calcium. If I were to have that level of Calcium in my blood, I would be in a coma. He said that the levels are not predictable for John. They go up and then they go down. He said this is "unexplainable." He also said, "Six months ago, I could not have told you whether we would be sitting here having this conversation. You are holding up remarkably well."

We know that John's life hangs in the balance. But underneath are the everlasting arms. God holds nothing carelessly. John’s life will unfold according to God’s purpose. It will not slip away without being released by God. No doctor can tell us how long John's body will be able to "hold up remarkably well". We simply throw ourselves into the everlasting arms.

Of course there are moments of fear and sadness. But today I am encouraged to walk in the way of the cross. The way of the cross is the way of death followed by resurrection. In Mark 4 Jesus said,

"With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable shall we use for it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which, when sown in the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth, yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and puts out large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade."

When I plant a seed, I believe that a plant will grow. When I put a basil seed into the dirt, I am looking forward to a tomato basil salad in July. And yet, to see the plant, I have to bury the seed in the cold, hard earth. My part is to hope for the basil and plant the seed. God will take care of the rest. Bringing something from nothing is God’s character, His being. He will do it. Bringing life from death is the Gospel.

In Christ, the reality of death is unavoidable. If we are going to follow Christ, and as Paul writes in Romans to “suffer with him”, there will be many deaths in our lives. Ultimately it is our physical death, but the principle of placing our hopes, desires, prayers and lives into the cold, hard earth, seeing them covered with dirt and frozen throughout winter, is part of the package.

In the mystery of Christ, life follows silence... stillness... death … burial.

Life comes from death.

Celebrate February 29th While You Have the Chance!

Bill and Mary Fawcett at Egg Harbor in September 2008

One week ago I mentioned that Bill and Mary Fawcett had extended their stay in order to continue their support of our family. At that time we agreed upon several milestones that would tell us all when they would be "free" to go.


1. John could sleep through the night.


2. John's job at Wheaton College would be over.


3. Radiation would be complete.


All three of those things have happened this week. At this moment Bill and Mary are on their way home to Sao Paulo, Brazil. We all felt a bit mixed about their going. It is hard to say good-bye after a 3-month stay in which so many peaks and valleys have been shared. And yet, we all felt the assurance of the Lord that this was the right time. Please keep us in your prayers as we adjust to being a family of four again.

Many of you are surprised, I'm sure, to hear about the end of John's work at Wheaton. The College was gracious in their handling of John's disability benefits, and yet the allotted hours did come to an end. Lord willing, we will receive 60% of John's income through Long Term Disability. We will have the same health insurance for 30 months. We have felt cared for... and sad... and loved... and scared... and supported... and lonely. If you would like to read John's thoughts on leaving Wheaton after 21 years of employment, you can read his latest post at http://johnfawcett.blogspot.com/2008/02/time-to-update.html.

Getting Better

Dear Friends,

My TO DO List is long today and so I give you a quick update. I know many of you have been concerned about John's pain. Thank you for your love and prayers. I am thrilled to tell you that his pain is MUCH improved. The combination of prayer, pain medications and radiation have allowed John the freedom to sleep and move about with significantly reduced pain. His calcium level is still very high, indicated ongoing bone degeneration. We will be spending the fourth day this week getting IV treatment for this life-threatening illness.

Because John's pain, mobility and medication have needed lots of care and management, the Fawcetts Sr. have been gracious enough to extend their stay. I know that I am continuing to keep my head above water because of their constant presence. Their service combined with the childcare from my parents and the meals from the church have held us up. Thank you all so much. We are being held up by your hands and prayers.

With gratitude,
Margie for the Fawcetts

The Valley of Vision

As I went to grab my glasses this morning, I paused for a moment looking at my bedside table. The Valley of Vision. Next to my new devotional book sat my glasses and my tissues from the long, painful night.

John was not able to sleep much due to pain. I often hear him reciting the Lord's Prayer and the Jesus Prayer in the night. I have not been able to sleep next to John since August. His body is too tenderly pained for me to be close. Last night, his pain was so great, his ability to find a comfortable position impossible. He called out to me knowing that if my presence would not create new pain, that my presence might actually bring him comfort.

The words that flowed out of me, born of the Spirit, freshly bringing Jesus...

The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters. In the presence of my enemies, You prepare a table for me. You annoint my head with oil. My cup overflows. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me. Your rod and your staff they comfort me. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever...

Lying gently near his frail frame, we both fell asleep for an hour before dawn.

Quarry me deep, dear Lord,

and then fill me to overflowing

with living water.

A small portion of a prayer from The Valley of Vision, A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, The Banner of Truth Trust, edited by Arthur Bennett, 1975

Thank you Shirley and Dale

Trouble Brewing

As I wrote last time, John has been experiencing tremendous pain. Although we are not thrilled about the results, it is good to now know what is causing this pain. He had an MRI last night and they found a "dramatic" lesion at Lumbar 2 which is obliterating the space in the canal and squeezing the nerves. Dr. Hantel said, "Is he able to stand?" I said, "Yes. He can stand and walk, but both with pain and for a short time." When you hear an oncologist say, "dramatic" you pay attention. We are on our way out the door at this very minute to begin the radiation. As I left our bedroom to come across the hall and write this note, John was praying, "Alleluia, Lord. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. A million miracles are going on in my body all the time. I am able to walk through more than they know." We are grateful that John is able to walk and that there is an immediate intervention that will take off some of the pressure. Obviously, this is not going to "cure" the problem, but we need this help to preserve his mobility.

And for me, I am grateful that I was able to weep a little this morning. Sometimes I just can't bring up the tears and I really NEED to, so I don't get migraines and what not. Also, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for a husband that is crying out to the Lord in the midst of this valley. Thank you, Lord, for John's trust in You. His faith is helping me along, too.

By the way, at the eleventh hour, John's parents decided NOT to leave. They have been here all week. This Monday, Bill will return home to Brazil. Mary will stay on throughout the radiation. Thanks be to God.

Another Update

So much is happening I have little time to write. (If you saw the above Princess post, you'll know why!)

I know many of you look forward to updates, so this is for you!

John is experiencing severe pain from the sciatic nerve. He had radiation for this back in the summer, but the pain has returned. Those of you who have had that kind of pain know how sharp it is. John has difficulty walking, sitting upright and lying on his back. In order to find a remotely comfortable position, he rotates from side to side.

We have reached a new level in our own emotional processing as well. The Lord is teaching us the importance of our marriage in grabbing hold of God's grace. We are taking new steps in fleshing out our ability to be and give the love of Christ to one another. This is hard to describe, but it is wonderful.

We are bracing ourselves for the exodus of Bill and Mary Fawcett, John's parents, on Monday. They have been here since December 3rd. They have been an incredible support in many ways. I made a chart of all the systems and programs Mary has put into place to support John's health. When I printed it up, it was 3 pages per day! I feel a bit overwhelmed at the thought of taking on John's health, the household and the children without live-in help. We continue to be amazed by the love and care we receive from our community, so we go forward in faith know the Lord will give us our daily bread. (And sometimes our daily bread comes in the form of organic vegetables freshly juiced by a friend!)

Update

I don't have a lot to say, but wanted to jot the latest. Yesterday we had a regularly-scheduled, weekly lab visit. John's Calcium was 14.3. That is higher than it was last week. John was hospitalized back in ?October? when his Calcium reached 15.9. Dr. Hantel said that was off the charts and that most people are not conscious or sitting up and talking to him at that level.

So, yesterday, John had a drug treatment and IV fluids. They wanted to see him for labs again today and his calcium was 13.8. They kept him to give fluids again. Now they want to see him tomorrow. The doctor may try to flush the calcium with more fluids or give some kind of a drug.

Because of Charlotte's swimming lessons, I did not go to the hospital today. John's Dad took him. After the swimming lesson, I decided to take the kids to Edwards to see John's treatment. I have been praying about including them, especially Charlotte, in some way. It seems of growing importance that she have some frame of reference for what it means that we are going to the "doctor" all the time. It was a short visit, but the kids loved it. Of course the nurses all thought they were wonderful and gave them juice and graham crackers. We played Chutes and Ladders (which they have on the unit) and took a little tour. Charlotte said to John, "I am worried about this tube going into your arm. It worries me that it hurts you." John explained these things to Charlotte and told her he wasn't worried about the medicine at all, and that it didn't really even hurt.

Now she has something to imagine when we say we are going to the doctor. I hope the experience will give her a frame of reference from which to ask questions as they come up.

Something surprising happened today. John was told after the lab work that he would need to stay for fluids. When John hears this, his first response is not one of gratitude toward the doctors and nurses for their helpful interventions. He eventually comes around, but his first response is usually frustration at the realization of more time at the hospital and less time for ... He said something like, "I guess they are trying to help me and I need to receive what is necessary." One of the nurses we have seen there for months, took both of John's hands in hers. She said, "Lets pray. Dear Lord, we pray that whatever John's body needs is what he will receive here today. Amen." John looked up in shock and joy. He said, "Do you believe that?" "Yes," she said. "Then you should do that with as many people as you possible can here." We had no idea she was a woman of faith and just knowing that lifts my heart somehow.

The last time I wrote, I was weeping and wailing over my losses. Right now I am having trouble feeling anything at all. My heart feels like it is racing all the time and I want to grab John and hold onto him for dear life.

The Frozen Chosen

Can you believe this weather? One day this week the high was ZERO! I just had to include this photo of my bed. I sleep right next to our sliding glass door. Yes! That is ice. Amazingly, I am not really frozen. We have a heater that keeps the room very warm, but ice comes in through the windows. Charlotte pulled a book off the shelf in that room one morning and she could not open it. It was frozen shut!!

The medical reports were mixed this week. Hemoglobin 10.5, the highest it has been in months. Calcium 13 and needing treatment. John was sent to the ER in July for a Calcium of 12.4 (it really goofs up the kidneys).

This has been a hard week for me. It started with noticing a large tumor on John's chest. The last time I had seen it, maybe four weeks ago, it was like a small pebble. I gasped when I saw the egg-sized mass on his rib. I could not believe the amount of visible growth in such a short time. It seems like we are going along just fine and then suddenly a bucket of cold water hits my face. When people ask, "How is John doing?" I always say, "Great. He's really doing great, or at least pretty well." This week I took a step back and saw how that response is within a bigger picture of difficulty.

It is true that John is doing great. He is clinging to Christ and continuously open to confessing sin and receiving life and hope from the Lord. He is doing "great" in the way that saints persevere during trials and learn with Paul, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Phil 4: 12 But he is doing "great" while at the same time fighting for his life. He is frail and fragile. I not only miss the wonderful feeling of being squeezed by John, but I can't hug him either.


On Monday Charlotte and I went to Culvers together for lunch after preschool. It was a holiday and so lots of children were there with their families. I sat there eating my grilled Reuben and mindlessly watching fleece-bound children bouncing into the restaurant. Moms and Dads queried their bobbing bundles about hamburgers, chicken fingers, lemonade, etc. A Dad and his two little girls came and sat at the booth next to us. For them it was one of a million little interactions they have with their Dad that they don't think twice about, nor will they remember. But the estrangement I felt from that situation settled on me like a bad fish sandwich. We are getting up and going about our lives, but our lives are greatly changed. It has been in this week that I have felt the change in a new way.

Are we doing fine? Yes. Are we taking one day at a time? Yes. Is God good all the time? Yes. Are we learning to give thanks in ALL circumstances? Yes. Yes, all of these things are true.

And at the same time, you will not bump into John at Culvers with his kids. You will not see him standing in line to order or carrying a tray of food. You will not see him sitting comfortably in a booth or chatting about the weather. All of these things are beyond his physical limitations right now.

I am endeavoring to keep a warm sense of normalcy in our home, but this week I am sad. I am lonely. I miss my husband's energy and loud laughter filling a restaurant as we decide who ordered the tastiest meal. I miss his list of 100 things he would like to do and see over the weekend. I miss his ability to stay up talking for several hours after the kids are in bed. I miss seeing him stand at the bathroom sink and shave, coming to the table with pieces of toilet paper on his chin. I miss trying to go to sleep and repeatedly being awakened by his chuckles as he reads Richard John Neuhaus' Public Square in First Things.


When John got home from work last night, (yes, he's been working! He goes in the morning and the afternoon for a few hours.) I burst into uncontrollable tears. The kids were at my parents for the night and seeing him hobbling in trying to get warm by the heater... I just couldn't stop. I simply felt, "I miss you." I get so very little time to connect with John because of our various schedules and responsibilities. Feeling disconnected makes this process all the harder to endure. Even at a time like this, so many things get in the way of our nurturing our marriage. This is so important to both of us and we are learning.

I read the story of Noah to the kids week. The Lord opened that scripture to my heart and mind in a way I had never known it before. I can't describe it fully, I just know it fed me. One thing I took away was imagining what that time in the ark must have been like. Noah had spent over one hundred years and probably his life's savings building the thing. And then once they got in, there was a long wait before anything happened. I thought of John and me sealed up in our "ark" of marriage and waiting for the journey that God has prepared us for to begin. And then it begins with a bang. Imagine how terrifying it must have been to hear the storm and feel the unleashed waters of the deep lifting and tossing the ark in a tempest. We, too, are in a tempest. We are warm (except for the ice on the door) and dry, our basic needs are met, but we are, nonetheless, in a tempest.



But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark, and he sent a wind over the earth, and the waters receded. (Genesis 8:1) God knows we are huddled together in the ark waiting out the storm. He is in complete control and we are waiting for him to send a wind so that the waters will recede.

And yet, Lord, teach us "the secret of being content in any and every situation."

Lovingly,
Frosty
I'll take a big hug and an order of onion rings with that.

Update

Dear friends,
I haven't written in a week or so. Some of you get nervous when I don't write. Don't worry. If I do not write, that means things are status quo. When things heat up I find myself at the computer a lot.

Each morning I know John is awake when I hear him say, "Praise the Name of the Lord. He is worthy of our praise." It is a precious way to begin the day.

Today we are at the hospital and John is getting two units of blood. (Hemoglobin 8.8) John was disappointed to miss getting into the office this afternoon. He is using the opportunity to work for the library on the computer here.

I have been taking photos for a future blog, A DAY IN THE LIFE AT THE TREATMENT CENTER. I'll get home and download them in the next few days.

John looks quite good and has remarkable energy these days. He has been going to work in both the mornings and afternoons each day. After Communion on Sunday, he stood on the sides of the sanctuary praying for others. Unbelievable.

I have been feeling down in the dumps about my life lately. If you think of praying for me while you're at it, that would be great. I am in need of a vision from the Lord for this season of my life. I think I am in a transition from "crisis mode" to "regular life... sort of" and I need to push through this.

More on this and many other things forthcoming...
Margie

Update

We are delighted to say that John did not need any treatment today. It is so nice to go into the Cancer Center and leave within an hour. When John receives treatment, we can count on at least six hours, usually longer.

They chose not to give John blood, but his hemoglobin was 9.2. This is not dreadful, but we want to see it going up... not down. Last week it was 10.0.

Going to the hospital is always a little depressing, and not getting GREAT news set us up for feeling drained. Its just after 9pm and we are all heading to bed.

Amazing! Amazing!

If my last post about John's health was Amazing, this one is

Amazing! Amazing!

Today was our weekly blood work at the Cancer Center. For the second time we were SENT HOME with no care needed.
NOTHING.

Do you remember how a few weeks ago the doctor suggested John get two transfusions a week?

John's Hemoglobin was 10.0, higher than last week's 9.8 . His kidney function has been perfect for over a month. He walked in on his own two feet. All of the nurses were coming over to him to saying, "You look great! What have you been doing?" One nurse named Derek said, "Eating spinach?" I said, "Drinking it!" John briefly told how his Mother juices vegetables for him and provides an excellent diet. Mary was quick to say, "But really its prayer. Praise God." And Derek said, "Yes, He's the One that deserves it!"

John was tender with tears and thanksgiving. He whispered, "I asked the Lord for 10.0 and it was 10.0. Thank You, Lord."

How Great Our Joy!

How great our joy!
Great our joy!
Joy, joy, joy!
Joy, joy, joy!
Praise be to God in heaven on high!

Today was to be a day spent in the hospital. It started off with great difficulty getting the children off to my parents'. They were heartbroken to be shipped off from Mama and Daddy after such a wonderful holiday. We were all in tears as we said, "Good-bye" for the day.

We have had to wait at the Cancer Center for an hour and a half or so, but with wonderful results. John's hemoglobin remained high enough to avoid a four-hour transfusion (9.8)!!! He is receiving an injection and we are going home!

The doctor was pleased to hear that the swelling is reduced, the incoherence gone, the pain managed, the appetite strong and spirits high. He does not want to see John for three weeks! His strongest recommendation was that we get a plush mattress cover to help John sleep without pain.

We will still come for blood checks each week, but a transfusion will only be given if needed. Please continue to pray about the blood levels since the last transfusion was followed by full-body rash and hives. Ugh.

Thank you all for your love and prayers.
Merry Christmas!

He is at the computer again!

Dear friends,
Wanted to let you know that John posted a blog today.
Praise the Lord.
Margie
http://www.johnfawcett.blogspot.com/

Progress and Pancakes

John made progress today by going to work for a few hours. While he did make it to work, he also developed a reaction to a blood transfusion and dealt with hives and itching on lots of places on his body for most of the day. He continues to be totally lucid, prayerful and committed to getting in to work whenever he can. Struggling with a difficult illness can bring a miopic view of life, so getting beyond these four walls gives "scope to the imagination (Anne of Green Gables)."



Part of regaining his strength has involved eating healthy and delicious food. As I mentioned in my Breakfast of Champions post, High Protein Pancakes are daily fare here. I promised that recipe in response to numerous requests to add recipes to my blog. I know this may seem odd to those of you who are reading The Fruitful Vine for health updates only. However, the title of the blog, The Fruitful Vine reminds me that my life is about more than my husband's illness. In a desert season, I must abide in the vine and continue to be fruitful. I have other responsibilities, one of which is creating a home. One of the things I love about creating a peaceful and nurturing home is cooking.

These pancakes were discovered by John's sister Katherine in the Mennonite cookbook More-with-Less (Herald Press, 1976, p.76.).

They are very thin, but pack quite a nutritious punch. Hope you enjoy them!


High Protein Pancakes (or Waffles)
Serves 3

Combine in a blender:

• 1 cup cottage cheese
• 4 eggs
• ½ cup whole wheat flour
• ¼ tsp salt
• ¼ cup oil (not olive)
• ½ cup milk
• ½ tsp vanilla

Whirl at high speed 1 minute. Bake on lightly greased griddle or waffle iron.
Option: Beat well with mixer instead of in blender.

Recipe contributed to More-with-Less by Danita Laskowski and Alice Lapp of Goshen, IN.

Thank you for your prayers

A few weeks ago, we were walking through the valley of the SHADOW of death. John's life hung tenderly in the balance. He could barely sit up or move. He was eating less than our two year old son. He was in constant pain. He was incoherent many times throughout the day. We are still in a war, but that battle seems to be behind us. I am absolutely convinced that we were delivered as a result of your prayers. Thank you.

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered ... We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

II Corinthians 1: 8- 11

The war goes on and we covet your continued prayers, but let us all pause and give thanks to the Lord for His victory on John's behalf in that battle.

Since that time John has gained over five pounds. He is totally lucid. He has worked at the computer several times. He is less overwhelmed by the children. The blood clot is dramatically smaller. His blood levels are fairly good. He is receiving a transfusion just now to keep his hemoglobin level up.

And as far as his appetite?

I'll tell you what he ate for breakfast:

The Breakfast of Champions
Three scrambled eggs
Four High Protein Pancakes (Recipe forthcoming)
Bowl of Steel Cut Oats
Papaya and Grapes
Freshly juiced carrot, apple, lime, spinach, broccoli, celery and cabbage.

Having John's Mother with us has boosted all of our spirits and nutrition!
Thank you Mary Fawcett.