I’ve had a hard time finding the words to share what’s unfolded since the beginning of this month. Things have not gone the way we had hoped or expected. There have been sudden turns, hard decisions, and a real need to adjust both our plans and my mindset.
This season has been an active practice of taking thoughts captive, renewing my mind, and anchoring myself in Scripture, sometimes moment by moment.
Without going too far into the details, metronomic chemo in Seattle is no longer an option. That has been one of the harder pivots. Navigating the medical system and insurance has easily landed at the top of my frustration list. At times I’ve felt controlled, boxed in, even forced down a path I didn’t want. I’ve found myself swinging between anger and resignation - “I guess, let’s just get this over with.”
But here’s where the Lord is meeting me: I may not have chosen this path, but I am choosing how I walk it.
What’s helping is:
Remembering who my Lord and Savior is—He goes before me, not behind me.
“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:8)Reframing this decision: I am not switching to conventional treatment, I am adding it in alongside what I’ve already been doing, and along with new ways to support and protect my body through radiation and chemotherapy.
Phase one begins Monday, April 27: chemo-radiation.
I know I will need to stay alert and engaged - advocating for myself, asking questions, and weighing each recommendation carefully. I’m praying for discernment through the Holy Spirit: what to lay down, what to stand firm on, and how to think clearly and communicate wisely in the middle of it all.
On top of that, there have been additional findings. My naturopath had the foresight to order a DEXA scan before treatment, and I’m so grateful. It revealed severe osteoporosis in both my femur bones and lumbar spine, along with a fracture in my sacrum. While one conventional treatment option comes with concerning side effects, there are other possibilities we’re exploring, along with supportive measures - strength training, targeted supplementation, and further testing to better understand what my body needs.
Recent imaging has also shown that the tumor has grown and spread to two lymph nodes, and there is a suspicious spot on my lung. There is also an increase in fluid around my heart that will need attention in time. For now, I am choosing not to fixate on that.
It’s a lot. There’s no way around that.
These past couple of weeks have been emotionally heavy. I’ve felt the weight of it and I’ve also felt the Lord meeting me in it. I’m allowing myself to process honestly and feel all the emotions while continuing to come back to trust.
My daughters, Tiana and Alina, have been a gift in this. They’ve reminded me, lovingly and boldly, to keep my eyes on the Lord. I’ve done my best to pour into all my children over the years, and I love seeing their faith grow and come back to strengthen me. There’s something deeply beautiful about that. A few dear friends have also shared Scripture resources that have helped steady my heart and build my faith day by day. I am so grateful for the people God has placed around me.
Looking ahead, this is the current plan for 2026 (unless the Lord redirects it):
Six weeks of chemo-radiation, five days a week starting 4/27
Two weeks of rest
Port placement
4–4.5 months of chemo every other week
Then possibly surgery
As I step into this week of preparation, I’m holding two realities at once: this is a lot and the Lord is still good.
I’ve noticed the ebb and flow in my spirit. Some days feel heavy; others feel light. And through it all, I sense the Lord gently uncovering deeper layers in me, areas for repentance, surrender, and growth. He is not wasting this. He is doing a work in me that I could not have chosen, but I don’t want to miss.
And maybe that’s where this season is leading me most clearly:
I don’t always get to choose what enters my life, but I do get to choose what I do with the thoughts that follow.
Will I let fear run unchecked?
Will I rehearse worst-case scenarios?
Or will I take those thoughts captive and hand them back to the One who holds my future?
This is not a one-time decision, it’s a series of daily, sometimes hourly decisions:
Capturing the thought.
“We take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:5)
Replacing it with truth.
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2)
Surrendering the outcome.
“Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you (Psalm 55:22)
Sometimes… the hardest parts are:
Surrendering the outcome.
Not pretending I’m okay with everything.
Not tying it up in a neat spiritual bow.
But coming honestly before the Lord and saying:
Some days surrender feels strong, other days it feels fragile, but either way, I place it back in His hands. And then, I do it again. It feels like there is a quiet strength being built here, not because everything feels steady, but because He is steady.
So if you find yourself in a hard turn you didn’t ask for, I want to encourage you:
God is not just working around your circumstances, He is working within you.
“Consider it pure joy…
whenever you face trials of many kinds,
because you know that the testing of your faith
produces perseverance.” (James 1:2–3)
And sometimes, the most powerful healing He does isn’t just in the body… it’s in the mind, the heart, and the deep places where trust is formed.
I’m learning and experiencing, as I go through this journey, that peace isn’t found in having control of the path, it’s found in walking closely with the One who already knows where it leads.
Things I am reminding myself of often:
I will take the next step in front of me—and trust God with the rest.
I may not know what lies ahead, but I know the One who goes before me. And THAT IS ENOUGH.
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