Keaton's Letter, Page 1

It was an incredible Celebration of Life Service wasn't it?  (We flatly refuse to call it a funeral... that's a term that doesn't fit the legacy that Keaton left!)  It has taken me a couple of weeks to reflect on it all, and gather the courage to write this post.  Dang, we miss our boy don't we?

At the service, we were reminded from Scripture (2 Corinthians 3) that God is STILL in the letter-writing business.  The bible is complete in every way, but the author of it continues to write.  Instead of paper and ink, He now uses the lives of His followers as His letters. The more we "follower-types" align our decisions and behaviors with the bible, the more impact our "letters" will have on a hurting world.  Blogs are great.  Twitter is great.  I'm told Facebook is great.  But those things don't write our letters.  The decisions we make and the actions we take write the letters.  Our intentions get NO press whatsoever.

God wrote an AMAZING letter to the world through Keaton's life.  I thought I'd take a stab at writing down some of the things I read in that letter.  Perhaps reading a few of my observations will prompt YOU to write down one or two that YOU read in Keaton's letter. Together, we'll piece it together bit by bit. Today, I'm just starting with page one.

Dear World,
My name is Keaton - not Karson.  Karson is my big brother.  He's ridiculously talented.  You know how people are supposed to be EITHER right-brained OR left-brained?  It just so happens, Karson is both.  He's a brainiac, and he's artistic, and he's a mechanical genuis.  That's a hard act to follow - so I never tried.  The bible says that God put ME together in a very intentional way. (Psalm 139). So I figured if God went to the trouble of thinking me up on purpose, the least I could do to repay Him is actually BE me.  I really love my brother, and I loved that even after he got married, he still made sure he and Calah had plenty of time for me.  So even though Karson is an amazing person, what a waste it would have been of MY life to try to be just like HIM.  Besides, I was pretty awesome, don't you think?

My name is Keaton - not Kanler.  Kanler is my other big brother.  He's an athletic beast, AND a really nice guy. Karson and I both loved sports as much as Kanler did, but for some reason, God put more athlete juice in Kanler than He did us. (We NEVER admitted that out loud - ESPECIALLY to Kanler.  NEVER!  That would go against the code of brotherhood bashing.)  But the truth is, Kanler had more trophies in his room by the time he was 5 than I could amass in a lifetime.  So even though I loved playing football WITH Kanler, I didn't try to be him either.  (But let's be clear...if you tried to tackle my QB brother... I made you pay.  Nobody got to do THAT to him except ME.) So instead of trying to be just like Kanler, do you know what I did instead?  I had the audacity to believe that God told the TRUTH in Ephesians 2... that not only did He think me up on purpose, He planned some stuff for ME to do in the world that might be different that He planned for Kanler.  So if I spent all my time trying to be just like Karson, or just like Kanler... I'd miss out on the things God had planned just for ME.  Hey, you want to know something funny?  NOW, both of my brothers want to be like ME!  That cracks me up!

My name is Keaton and even though Hollywood and the Disney Corporation take every opportunity to portray parents as complete idiots, I want you to know that it's okay to actually love your Mom and Dad and have fun hanging out with them.  I don't regret one single minute I spent with them.  Not one single minute.  I'm one of the lucky ones.  My parents are incredible, so they were easy to love.  Frankly, yours may NOT be so easy to love.  But here's something I learned:  when I chose to love and respect my parents - consistently, THEY became better people because of that love.  You should try it.  When God lives in your heart... He makes it possible to love people who aren't that lovable.  HE does it through you.  

My name is Keaton and I'm not embarrassed to say "I love you, bro" to my close friends.  Don't be so full of yourself that you think you're too cool for that stuff.  You KNOW you want to hear it.  So why not start it?  I dare you football players to try it this year... especially my O-Line brothers.  Say it when you leave practice.  Say it after you win a game, and especially after you lose a game.  God says that the world will know we're His followers... not by how often we make it to church and youth group, and not even by how often we're seen totin' our bible... the world will know based on how well we love each other.  Maybe I'm over-simplifying it, but SAYING it just seems like a pretty easy place to start.

My name is Keaton, and I think whining is a big fat waste of time.  Trust me on this one, "time" is something you have in limited supply.  I'm not too high on feeling sorry for myself either, just in case you're wondering.  I happen to believe God is good ALL the time.  I believe it because the bible TELLS me He is good.  I do NOT wait to see how my day is going to play out before I decide whether or not God is good TODAY.  He's good ALL the time. I don't really know why I got brain cancer.  I don't think I did anything wrong.  I don't think my parents fed me the wrong stuff when I was little.  I don't think it's because I occasionally rode my bike without a helmet when my mom wasn't watching.  I just think stuff like cancer happens in our world.  And for reasons we may never know until Jesus comes back, God didn't STOP it in my case.  He could have.  But He didn't.  It was part of the stuff He had for ME to do that He didn't plan for Karson or Kanler.  I tried my best to show you guys that even though I had cancer, and had to do some things before school and on weekends that YOU didn't have to do (you know... like chemo and radiation and a few brain surgeries and various and sundry hospital stays) - God was making me strong enough to handle it... and still be fairly normal.  I did that pretty well, didn't I?

My name is Keaton, and although I didn't talk about it out loud very much... sometimes I DID feel fear.  The world will try to make you feel like you're not a real man if you're ever afraid.  That's a lie.  Everybody feels afraid sometimes.  But REAL men (and real women) know where to go and what to do when they feel afraid.  Me?  I was one of those real men.  I read my bible, and it made me feel stronger.  And know this, I didn't always know HOW to read my bible on my own. Church helped some.  But what REALLY helped were smaller groups.  A thing God used to teach me a TON was DiscipleNow Weekends.  You should ask my brothers or my parents about it if you're interested.  It was during those weekend retreats when I learned HOW to use my bible to actually HELP me when I needed some help.  I just took notes right on the pages of my bible.  I knew I'd probably lose little journals or notebooks, but I knew there was NO WAY I was going to lose my bible.  

After my Celebration of Life service, my family gathered around the kitchen table and read some of those notes I had in my bible.  I think it made them feel better.  Here's a zoomed-in shot of that picture above... it's one thing that helped my family ALOT when they read it.

 My handwriting was always terrible, so let me interpret for you!  The note says: "When things are bad for me, look at 2 Timothy 4:6-8."  Now why did reading that make my family feel better?  Sometimes, I think my family wondered if I even really understood how serious it was to have brain cancer.  Of course I did.  I just didn't talk about it much because that wasn't my style.  But during those times when I actually felt a little bit afraid, the words of 2 Timothy 4:6-8 made me feel peaceful.  Here's what it says:

"For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, - and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing."

That's an awesome passage.  On hard days, I kept asking myself: "Keaton, did you fight the good fight today - or were you wimpy?  Did you hang on to your faith - or did you doubt that God was stronger than cancer?  Did you quit or did you finish the drill?"  As long as my answers to those questions lined up with the blue verses, I could kick fear to the curb and get back to being the laid-back dude I was born to be!  Strength isn't the absence of fear.  Strength is overpowering fear with truth.

My name is Keaton, and I discovered something really cool.  I found out that when I focused on helping OTHER people or blocked for OTHER people or prayed for OTHER people... I felt joy.  That's in the bible you know.  I learned it first from watching my parents and then I learned it at church.   The world tells you to "look out for number one."  That's certainly one way to go - but it's complete crap.  The bible says it this way in Philippians 2:4 "Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others."    It's your life, but I can guarantee that the blue words work.  Joy happens.  Test it out.  I had cancer, but one of the things that kept me from getting really depressed about that was focusing on OTHER people.  I prayed for my friends and family.  I visited a younger kid who had cancer... a little girl named Kylie.  (Ya'll keep praying for her, ok?)  Here's the deal:  An outward focus leads to inner joy.  That'll tweet.

My name is Keaton, and now that I'm in heaven - I can tell you a secret: I was actually a prophet while I was on earth.  Who knew?!?!  Here's the proof.  On the last page of my bible, I wrote these words:

  Now that I'm hanging out with Jesus every single day... I know for SURE that the words I wrote on the last page of my bible were absolutely TRUE!  He was worth every dose of chemo and every doctor visit.  He was worth every stinkin' MRI on my big body in that little tube.  He was worth every needle prick.  He was worth all 30 of those radiation treatments.  He was worth losing all my hair and then having it grow back funny.  He was worth seizures and losing my legal right to drive my dang new car. He was worth every every every thing!!  The bible talks about it formally in 2 Corinthians 4, but the Keaton-translation is simply: HE IS WORTH IT!  If you don't believe it yet - or you aren't sure - go talk to my big brother, Karson, who happens to be a pastor.  He knows it too.  He even got it tattooed on his arm.  THAT is a sign of being SURE!  (Cool tat bro!)

Well... I think that's probably enough for page one.  Ya think?  So here's what I'd love for you to do.  If you have an observation to include in the letter that God wrote to the world through Keaton's life, email it to me at marybethcook@bellsouth.net.  Put "Keaton's Letter" in the subject line and start your email with "My name is Keaton..."  When/if I get enough from you guys for Page Two... I'll add it to the blog.  I think Keaton's parents would really love it.  

At the candlelight service at Flowery Branch High School on the evening of July 18th, the coach made reference to the way Keaton stayed positive - even when he couldn't get his words out because of the tumors.  During those times, Keaton replied with a "thumbs up."  The football team will be using that hand signal this season.  A friend of our family, Kathe Nelson, who was at that candlelight service - sent me this photograph.  I thought it a fitting way to end Page One.  No matter what life is throwing at you... keep your knees prayerfully bent, your attitude faithfully positive, your focus on others, and your thumbs UP!  He's worth it y'all.  He is.

Just Another Day

"All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."- Psalm 139:16 (NIV)

Thank you God, for 6,858 incredible days with Keaton Franklin Coker.  He was a gift, and it was an honor to love him.  

There's no such thing as "just another day."  Make each one count.  Keaton did exactly that.

October 5, 1995 - July 15, 2014

Sunrises

Sometimes in life there are seasons when NOTHING seems to make any sense.  Days that used to seem routine and orderly are suddenly thrown completely off balance.  A cancer diagnosis, for example, will usher in a season like that.  

At first, you scramble to get your bearings.  You try to understand.  You try to SEE through the fog.  You wonder where God is and how He could have let something like this happen.  Because afterall… you were doing life the RIGHT way:  hardworking, tax-paying, church-attending, dinner-together-as-a-family.

But slowly, the shock wears off and you begin to grasp your new reality.  Things that seemed hard and inconceivable begin to take shape.  You shift your question.  Instead of asking “WHY God?” you dare to let yourself ease into acceptance mode and ask “Ok, what NOW God?”  

Slowly, you begin to let yourself breathe again.  You THINK that maybe – just maybe – there is purpose, and perhaps you are even beginning to imagine what that purpose might be. There are rays of hope, and little by little, momentum begins to swing back into your camp.  You’ve weathered some setbacks, but a big breakthrough comes.  You get accepted into the best clinical trial in the country for your type of cancer.

But then there is a curveball. 

I love getting up early on our family beach trips.  I love having the beach to myself in the still of the morning.  I love that a sweatshirt feels good at 6:30am.  I love feeling the wind in my hair and tasting the salt from the breezes.  But mostly, I love to watch God paint a sunrise.  No two are alike.  His nature is infinitely artistic.  

This morning I watched as He began by simply stroking the colors of dawn onto the canvas. There was no particular shape.  Sometimes when I arrive on the sand, there are NO clouds.  On those mornings, I know I am in for a real treat.  The sunrise will be unfettered and spectacular.  Those are my favorites.

This morning, however, there was ONE cloud.

  

ONE.  

And it was in the exact spot where the sun was going to crest the horizon. Why would He deliberately block my view like that?

So I asked Him. 

He began to whisper, “sometimes in life there are seasons when NOTHING seems to make any sense…”

And then I watched as He formed the cloud into a shape.  To me, it looked like a manatee or perhaps a whale.  Definitely a sea creature with a whale-like tail sticking out of the water off to the left.   Then He painted the edges of the sea creature with dazzling orange light.  I laughed.  God was playing with His Lite Brite set.

I felt myself relaxing as I sat on a towel in the sand.  A jogger ran by with headphones at full blast, seemingly unaware of the Master at work.

Next God turned on His floor spotlights.  GIANT rays of light fanned out from the sea-creature-cloud straight up into the air.  

Then God posed a question to ME.  “These rays I just added give you hope, do they not?  Even though a cloud is blocking your view of the big orange ball cresting the horizon… the rays give you hope don’t they?”

“Well, yes.  I suppose they do.”

“Why?”

“Because the rays come from the source, so the source must not be far off.”

Then He brought a portion of scripture to mind. “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” – 1 Corinthians 13:12

For reasons that are difficult to grasp, Keaton has not responded to the new drug that was rumored to be the most promising thing on the horizon for his type of brain cancer.  A recent MRI provided medical proof that the cancer has the upper hand.  Thus, he is no longer a participant in the Clinical Trial.  They dropped us like a hot potato.  

So what's next?  It's very simple.  We continue to pray for a miracle and we continue to ask God to open the next door of treatment for our boy.  It just so happens that we don't know exactly what that is right now.  There's a big cloud blocking our view.

It is hard to see clearly right now, but we have great peace.  We do.  We have seen the rays, and we are confident that the Source is not far off.

Keep praying for Keaton.  And keep believing that even though we see dimly now… the day IS coming when we will see a new dawn crest the horizon.  Some believe that when that day comes, we will FINALLY get all our "WHY?" questions answered.  Perhaps they are right.  But I tend to believe that when that day comes, we will find the Source of our Hope so dazzling and so amazing... the whys won't matter much anymore.  None of them.

That Which Doesn't Kill You...

That which doesn’t kill you… nearly kills those around you.  Although that’s not the original version of the quote credited to the German philosopher Nietzche, it’s a more accurate one in our lives at the moment.  I’ll try to explain what I mean.

By way of general update, Keaton has graduated from high school and from “traditional” medicine.  We are now in the twilight zone of “experimental” medicine.  He’s participating in a pediatric clinical trial at Emory, rumored to be the most promising thing on the horizon in the fight against brain cancer.  We are incredibly thankful that God opened the door for him to be part of that trial.  Someday when the energy level is higher, I will share the God story with you of the miracle that secured Keaton a spot in that highly-sought-after trial.   But for today, I will simply update you on things in general and urge you to renew your prayers for Keaton.

The fact that he was accepted in to a pediatric trial is a HUGE blessing.  You see… unlike clinical trials in the adult world, NO patient in a pediatric trial is ever given a placebo.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is that our 18 year-old O-Lineman is a tad large for the facilities.  Note the position of his feet relative to the end of the bed.  :-) 

The clinical trial Keaton is participating in contains STRONG medicine.  Our boy who played football all throughout chemo and radiation for two straight seasons, has now been temporarily sidelined by the new drugs.  Apparently, drugs that are strong enough to obliterate brain tumors don’t treat the rest of the person delicately.  It is a hard thing to see.  While I could write paragraphs about the specifics of Keaton’s current struggles, I choose to simply convey to you that it is a difficult season of treatment.  Now you understand the modified quote at the beginning of this post. It is hard on Keaton and it is hard on those who love him. 

So what should we do when the things our eyes SEE do not match what our belief system SAYS?  We have to make a choice.  We have to pick one or the other.

Most of us can quote the scripture from 2 Corinthians 5:7 “We walk by faith and not by sight.”  It has rolled off our tongue effortlessly for years.  There are bumper stickers extoling it, right beside the metal Jesus fish on cars throughout the Bible Belt. 

If only it were as easy to truly live it as it is to say it.

 

The truth is, even when we ARE trying to walk by faith… we trip and stumble and run into brick walls of doubt.  But thanks to amazing grace, God doesn’t require PERFECT faith – even faith as small as a mustard seed is sufficient.  Faith that cries, “I believe!  Help me with my unbelief” is sufficient.

When I find my faith steps clumsy and the brick wall large, I love the comfort offered in the first couple of verses of Psalm 40.  In the NET translation it reads:

I relied completely on the LORD, and he turned toward me and heard my cry for help.  He lifted me out of the watery pit, out of the slimy mud.  He placed my feet on a rock and gave me secure footing.

He has the power to help me when I’m stumbling.  He has the power to help me get around the brick wall of doubt.  He doesn’t do it by PROMISING me that He will heal Keaton completely in this life.  I still hold out hope for that, but it isn’t a promise.  He helps me navigate the brick wall by reminding me of His character.  He is good.  He hears my cry for help. I don’t know why Keaton is suffering right now… but I know it ISN’T because God doesn’t love us.  The cross settled that once and for all.  

It’s vacation time for us.  As we traditionally do each year, we will be traveling to the beach with nearly 50 members of our extended family.  Last year we rejoiced because we had Keaton at the beach with us, and he was full of life and energy!  This year, he and the rest of his immediate family, won’t be able to join us.  Will it be sad?  Yes.  But as I was pondering the sadness of that, God gave me a different way to view it.  It’s a fast of sorts.  Traditional fasting means that we do without food for a short season in order to seek God in a more urgent way.  Churches today often encourage “Media Fasting” where we do without TVs and computers for a short season in order to seek God in a more urgent way.

This year I will apply that fasting principle to Keaton’s absence on our family beach trip.  When the sadness of missing him threatens to overtake the joy… I will be intentional about turning that moment into a prayer for Keaton.  It’s a choice. 

Scripture reminded me this morning of the importance of prayer.  In the beginning of Luke’s gospel, the angel Gabriel visited Zechariah the priest.  Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth were childless in their old age.  The words of Gabriel struck me afresh this morning.  “Do not be afraid Zechariah; your prayer has been heard.”

So I had this thought… “What if Zechariah had merely worried about his childless state?  What if he had spent ALL his energy being depressed and bitter?  WHAT IF ZECHARIAH HAD NOT PRAYED?”

That thought alone re-energizes my desire to continue praying for Keaton.  We will still make sand castles this year at the beach… but I’m not going to lie to to you.  This year the sand won’t be full of color.

Some seasons in life are like that.  In those times, we walk by faith and not by sight.  Perfectly?  No.  Even Zechariah THE PRIEST did not do it perfectly.  At one point Gabriel said to Zechariah: "because you did not believe my words..."  When we stumble, God will pick us up if we continue lifting our eyes UP.  "I lift my eyes up to the hills.  Where does my help come from?  My help comes from The LORD."  Keep praying for Keaton.  It matters.

LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF

Mark 12:28-31

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating.  Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?" "The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and strength.  The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these."

Today, God showed me a picture of this passage.  I’m emotionally weary, so the story will be the condensed version… but I’m hoping God will fill in the gaps in your imagination so you’ll see it the way I see it.

We were supposed to be up early on this Saturday morning heading to a family wedding in south Georgia.  I woke up before the alarm, and came downstairs to have some quiet time before the hectic morning began.  I had just sat down with my coffee when a text came in from Keaton’s mom.  She was already IN south Georgia.  The text simply instructed me to call her when I was awake.  I dialed immediately.  Based on the ridiculous hour and the feeling in my gut… I already knew.  It was Keaton. 

He was having seizures and was being medically-transported back to Atlanta.  (No sirens on this transport… only the heavy blades of a helicopter to announce the urgency.)

After a full day in the ER, and more tests… the doctors simply confirm what we already know.  We need new drugs.  The old ones are past their expiration date… so to speak.  New cancer drugs are hard to come by, so please pray accordingly.  We have a clinical trial starting in nine days.  Pray those days go quickly and that the new meds swing a big stick.

Little Kylie had a hard day too.  She’s back in the hospital for another round of chemo.  She’s doing this round with a little more experience and a lot less hair... experience that we don’t want and hair that we do.  Ugh.

Last summer, Kylie prayed hard for Keaton.  Since her diagnosis… Keaton has prayed hard for Kylie.

At day’s end… Keaton was moved from the ER to a room on the Aflac Cancer Ward at Scottish Rite.  Guess who’s in the room NEXT to his?  Kylie. 

They’re neighbors.  They’re praying for each other.  Kylie has been praying for Keaton all day through her waves of extreme nausea.  Their moms gave each other an understanding hug in the hallway.

And me?  I’m just weepy at the evidence that God goes before us.

It’s a really big hospital.  There are unfortunately A LOT of kids in Atlanta with cancer.  The two I love are neighbors tonight.  And they’ve been praying for each other.  Neither focused on themselves.  I think they get Mark 12:31.

Go and do likewise.

Tar Heels, Blue Devils, and the Easter Bunny

One of Keaton’s older brothers is currently getting a free ride through college because he can throw a football approximately 4 miles... and thread a needle with it.  The University of North Carolina came knocking on the Coker family’s door and the coaches took our boy up to Chapel Hill.  We were happy for him, but were also left with a bit of a quandary.  You see, we’d always been Blue Devil fans.  We like Duke.  They play round ball in Durham, and their coach is a fine member of the Long Gray Line.  We cheer for West Point grads around our house.  Coach K is the reason we’ve always worn our blue a few shades darker than the Carolina blue of UNC.  These two shades of blue are NOT compatible.  Not at all.  Anybody who knows anything about sports knows THAT.

But NOW, there’s a UNC jersey with the name “Coker” on the back.  Number 11.  And our loyalty is being tested.  We love our nephew, so we’ve been wearing lots of that “Carolina blue” lately around our house. (It’s actually more like Powder Blue, but they don’t like it when you point that out…)  And just as we were finishing our detox of all things Blue Devil, the story goes and takes another turn.

Keaton is about to graduate from Flowery Branch High School, and apparently he’s about to graduate from his current team of doctors at Egleston and Johns Hopkins as well.  They’ve been a great team, and we’re grateful for them… but our boy has gone and become a man.  He dwarfs his doctors, and the little plastic chairs in the Pediatric waiting room no longer provide a stable base for his physique.  So it’s time for us to play at the next level.

You’d think the world of medicine would work a whole lot differently than the world of major college football – but from my observations, the two have a lot in common.  Keaton is being recruited.  And we need to decide what color jersey he’s going to wear.  Cancer hospitals aren’t so different from major colleges in the way they recruit.  It's hard to get their attention at first, but once they find out ANOTHER hospital is looking at you... they get more aggressive in their recruiting.

Sloan-Kettering in New York would like to have Keaton.  But they’re yankees… and that makes me think of THE Yankees.  Wrong sport.  And we don’t really like pinstripes.  Let’s face it, they’re not very manly.  Sloan-Kettering will have to up their offer to entice us to wear pinstripes.

MD Anderson in Texas would like to have Keaton.  Longhorns.  Not a bad option truthfully.  They have good steaks and cowboy boots there.  We really like big steaks - and what's better than a great pair of western boots?  But really… who looks good in that awful Burnt Orange of the Longhorns?  Serious drawback.

Then there’s the place in California.  I think it’s San Francisco.  Keaton is sporting longer hair these days and it's a great shade of brown.  He also looks great, from time to time, as a bald man.  But blonde?  I just don’t see it.  California needs to sweeten their offer before we turn our O-Lineman into a Surfer Dude.

Did I mention Duke yet?  Yep.  The Blue Devils are in the hunt.  They’ve offered some serious cancer smackdown talk and have promised moxi with their clinical trials.  If you've followed this blog, … you know that we’re fans of moxi in our family.  I’m also lobbying for them to throw in some basketball tickets at Cameron Indoor for Aunt Marybeth… but so far, they haven’t taken that bait.  It’s really the only missing component.  We’d probably have a deal otherwise.

Emory isn’t taking all this transfer talk laying down, mind you.  They tell us they actually HAVE an adult wing on their campus.  (Who knew?) They are scrambling to come up with a counter offer.  It’s too early to discuss publicly, and our agent has sworn us to secrecy… but Emory is huddled up trying to entice us to stay with a promising clinical trial of their own.  Our interest is piqued, but they’re moving slow and we’re attracted to speed.

Decisions.  Decisions.  So many great Cancer Hospitals.  We’re thankful to HAVE options to evaluate.  Keaton’s last workout for the medical staff of each of those hospitals went great.  (Translation… his PET scan revealed that his brain cancer is still contained in the brain.  It hasn’t spread to his spine or any other parts of his body that we are deeming OUT OF BOUNDS.  That makes him more marketable.)

At the moment, we’re leaning toward the royal blue of Blue Devil Nation… so what in the world will we do with all those powder blue shirts?  How can we possibly have a Coker in each place?  

Then there’s the matter of the mascots.  Nobody outside the state of North Carolina REALLY knows what a Tar Heel IS exactly… but we pretend that we do.  I know the history, so spare me the informative emails.  But have you taken a close LOOK at the mascot that is supposed to represent that rich history?  I don’t get it.

And for that matter… what exactly is a BLUE devil?  Is it just a devil that pitched a toddler tantrum and held his breath till he turned blue?  That doesn’t seem worthy of Keaton’s calm, cool demeanor to me.

So I’m proposing a solution.  Let’s just create a mascot called the Tar Devil.  Maybe Joel Chandler Harris would lend us the image of the Tar Baby.  Close enough if we add horns. 

My kids love that story.  But all good stories about the Tar Baby have to include a rabbit.  Turns out… ours does.  Hold on and I’ll connect the dots for you.

Last summer, I had the privilege of leading a small group “Mother/Daughter” Bible Study.  God definitely has a sense of humor as I am personally devoid of BOTH of those qualifying components.  My mom has been in heaven for over four decades now… which is longer than she was ever on the earth.  And my house is teeming with testosterone.  Not a pink thing in sight with my husband and two sons.  Nevertheless, these mothers and daughters – and me – circled up and studied scripture together.  It was awesome.

The youngest daughter in the room was a little girl named Kylie… not yet a teenager, but close.  She took notes and leaned in and hugged me a lot.  Good grief, I was a goner.  That girl had me wrapped around her little finger in about two seconds flat.  Each time we gathered to study the bible, we also prayed for Keaton.  These girls didn’t know Keaton personally – as many of you don’t.  But over the summer, they became part of Keaton’s Warriors.

A month or so ago, Kylie’s knee started hurting.  Inconceivably, a slight limp has turned into a cancer diagnosis.  She’s in the early rounds of treatment.  Her hospital room is filled with stuffed animals – courtesy of shocked and grieving friends who haven’t yet wrapped their heads around this fight.  Of all of the stuffed animals, Kylie’s favorite is a soft cuddly rabbit approximately the size of herself.

On Friday, while Keaton was saying farewell to his pediatric team at Emory – he decided to stop by and visit Kylie.  They’d never met, but kids with cancer understand each other like no one else can.  

Keaton is a class act.  He wants to devote his life to ministry… not really the preaching kind, - just the kind where you meet people where they are and point their focus UP.  I’d say his career has officially begun.  I think it's poetic that it began Easter weekend.  And THAT'S the story of our journey through Tar Heels, Blue Devils, and the Easter Bunny.

If you’d like to expand your prayer life as you continue to pray for Keaton, we’d love for you to add Kylie to your list.  You can follow her story at:

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/kyliemyers

We’ll keep you posted as we head in a new direction for Keaton’s treatment, but I’m liking the Tar Devils.  Keep wearing those gray bracelets, and remember to PRAY FOR KEATON!

The 2nd Time Around

It snowed… AGAIN!  It was our 2^nd snow storm in less than a month in the Atlanta area.  I’m not sure that’s ever happened in my 30+ years of living in the big city. 

I noticed some interesting things during the double whammy.  There was a lot more energy and enthusiasm for the snow the first time around.  That first time, I took about 200 photos and even posted a little video to the blog of the kids out playing. We huddled by the fire to warm up and then dashed back outside to play some more.  We laughed as we bundled up in every piece of cold weather gear we owned.  It took 15 minutes just to zip everything and pull on dry socks and hats and gloves and scarves.  We didn’t care.  We were ALL in. 

The second snow storm a couple of weeks later?  Not so much.  We complained that it wasn’t “good” snow.  It was too slushy.  The sledding wasn’t fast or thrilling.  We huddled by the fire MORE and we played LESS.  Donning all the gear seemed like a lot of trouble this time.  Rather than celebrating “free days”, we began to grumble that we’d have to make up the missed school days at the end of the year.   

Lots of things in life seem harder the second time around.  If that’s true even for exciting things like snow days in the south, then things that were already hard the first time… like chemo, can seem insurmountable the second.

Keaton had another MRI last week.  It wasn’t the news we wanted.  As of today, he’s back on chemo.  More scans have been ordered and there will be many medical hoops to jump through in the weeks ahead.

Are we disheartened?  Yes.  Will it be hard?  Yes.  Is that the whole story?  NO!

After I talked to Keaton’s mom on the phone, I knew I couldn’t give in to the disappointment I felt in my heart.  I finished up some chores and then carved out a few minutes to sit quietly.  I grabbed my bible and told God I needed to hear from Him.  Where does a Christ-Follower find strength?  “Seek and you will find.”

I was flipping through some familiar passages, but they weren’t producing the hope I felt I needed.  So I just sat still and asked Him what He wanted me to hear.  At that VERY moment, the phone rang again.  It was Keaton’s mom, again.  She had a story to tell me.  And when we hung up… I knew God had answered my question.

As you might imagine, dealing with insurance companies is a nightmare during times of serious and expensive illness.  Knowing that the doctors wanted Keaton back on the chemo right away, and having learned that insurance companies do not share our sense of urgency, Sharon began making all the necessary phone calls literally from the car on the drive home from the doctor’s office. 

The insurance company has additional rules when the prescribed drugs are astronomically expensive.  For cost purposes, they mandate the use of particular pharmacies to acquire these drugs – typically the big chain stores.  Having our roots in small town USA, our family does not applaud this rule, as we prefer the personal attention offered by the “mom and pop” pharmacies.  But we want the drugs, so we follow the rules.

Today, the mandated particular pharmacy did not have the drugs on hand.  It was going to be Tuesday before they could get them.  Not acceptable.  Sharon got some moxi and told the insurance company exactly that.  (In our family, we affectionately call those moxi-moments “getting in touch with your inner-Doris.”  Doris is Keaton’s grandmother and is a force to be reckoned with.  We’re grateful she’s on Team Keaton!)  Miraculously, the insurance company caved and granted a ONE TIME exception to the particular pharmacy rule.  Sharon knew exactly where to go.

She walked in the door of their favorite “mom and pop” pharmacy.  They know her there.  Heck, they even deliver drugs to your house if you need them to do that.  The pharmacist wanted to help, but he didn’t have the required drug in stock either.  He, however, could get it by Monday – so at least that was one day sooner of cancer-fighting drugs into Keaton.  Sharon was grateful.  She chose gratitude. 

One of my favorite authors, Ann Voscamp, has a saying: “thanksgiving always precedes the miracle.”

At that very moment, a well-dressed blonde lady walked into the pharmacy.  The pharmacist looked up in surprise and then smiled.  He looked at Sharon and asked, “How would you like to have that drug today?”  

The well-dressed blonde?  Oh, no one special.  Just a drug rep from the company that happens to distribute the very drug Keaton needed.  A conversation ensued.  Hearts were stirred.  Arrangements were made.  And a drug sitting in Duluth, Georgia was delivered by courier to Sharon at a pre-arranged rendezvous point…today.

Chemo drugs weren’t the only thing delivered today.  Hope was delivered by God Himself… simply because He knew we needed it.

Hearing the story from Sharon led me to the scripture I needed earlier.   Familiar?  Yes.  But the pharmacy story chiseled the truth of it into my soul.  I like it best from a new translation of scripture called The Voice, "Know this: my God will also fill every need you have according to His glorious riches in Jesus the Anointed, our Liberating King." - Philippians 4:19

It's fair to say that we needed chemo drugs today.  But I think what we needed  even more was the reassurance that God is still with us.

Are you guys still with us, Keaton's Warriors?

Here's the thing:  that 2nd snow storm in Atlanta wasn't really any different than the first.  We just failed to bring enthusiasm to the sled.  This round of chemo won't be much different than the first.  We need your prayers and we need your support.  We need you to bring enthusiasm to the sled.  You up for that?  I assure you, your part will be easier than Keaton's, but it's vital.  So do what you do best.  Encourage.  Text.  Show up.  Call.  Break out those gray bracelets and do your thing.  If God went to the trouble today to let us know that HE is still with us... maybe you could too.  Nobody's quitting here.  O-Linemen don't do that.

Snow Days

It snowed!  I know the news reports were horrible coming out of Atlanta... and they were all true.  People were stranded all over this city.  But the doom and gloom wasn't the WHOLE story.  This 4 minute video shows the other side of Snowmegeddon 2014.  The neighborhood kids made the most of it.

Take a look and remember the carefree days of playing outside in the snow.
(For reasons that are too technologically advanced for me... it takes about 10 seconds for the video to actually START playing once you click the arrow!)

The Trumpeter

The silent march was nearly over.  We had stood in the bitter cold; barely recognizable to each other due to all the layers of coats and hats and scarves we had tightly wrapped around us.   It was seriously cold, the kind of cold that causes you to lose feeling in your fingers and toes.  We had listened to political speeches and sang songs and gazed at all the Pro-Life signs that were held high by many around us.  My personality is not that of a natural activist, so I was new to the whole “Rally and March” thing.  To be honest, I was there by obligation.  The school my sons attend supports the Georgia Right To Life March every year by transporting the entire Middle School downtown to the State Capitol to the event.  I was a designated driver/chaperone.  This was my older son’s third March.  It was my first.  I felt a twinge of something over that fact.

It seemed fitting to march in complete silence.  They say the purpose of the silence is to symbolize the infant victims whose cries have been silenced through legalized abortion in our country. The death toll is now up to 55 million and is growing at the rate of 3000 per day.  The sheer numbers staggered my mind.  I thought about that as we marched around downtown Atlanta.  When there is silence, there is actually time to think.

I also thought about the professional lobbyist who made one of the speeches.  He made the point that we’ve spent billions of dollars in this county exploring the red planet, Mars.  Why?  To search for signs of life – any life… even single-cell-amoeba life.  Yet, we willingly destroy the most complex arrangement of cells ever created by God, at the rate of 3000 per day on our own soil.  I think about that as I march.  It’s new perspective for me.

I think about the lady who stepped up to the microphone and told the crowd that she was the product of rape.  Her biological mother was brutally raped at age 15.  And then her biological mother did a very brave thing.  She carried the child conceived in violence to full term and then she gave her up for adoption to a family who loved her from the start.  The speaker made the point that SHE was not a violent or brutal person despite her conception.  I’d never thought of it that way before.  I marched on wondering if I’d have that kind of courage.

I was warned that there may be hecklers, particularly as we marched around the campus of Georgia State University.  But here’s something I learned on the march: hecklers are more inclined to participate when it’s fair weather.  Their indifference and absence made an impression on me.  I glanced around at our Middle School students marching silently, with faces set like flint, straight ahead into the cold wind.  They were standing up for what they believe, no matter the weather.  I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat, and I felt honored to march beside our kids who were veterans of the March, even though their adult chaperone was a rookie.

We rounded the last corner of the route and headed back to the Capitol building.  This final street was particularly empty of bystanders.  The only people in view were a few policemen lining the route, looking relieved that their peacekeeping services were not needed.  And that’s when I heard it.  It stood in stark contrast to the silence of those marching.  Perhaps the acoustics of the clear, cold day aided in the amplification of the sound.  The lump I had worked hard to swallow returned instantly as my ears recognized the sound of a lone trumpet playing Taps.  

I craned my neck to find the source of the soulful sound.  When my eyes locked in on the musician, the lump won the battle and the tears began to roll down my cheeks.  It was a mom playing that trumpet.  She had a baby strapped to her back in one of those “baby hikers”, and a preschool child on each leg… maybe ages 4 and 2 or something like that.  She just stood there, an empty stroller and her kids as her only companions, and she played the 24 notes of Taps over and over.  I don’t know her story.  Perhaps she had an abortion early in her life and knows that the physical procedure heals but the scar on the soul never really does.  I don’t know if that’s her story, but it IS the story of a couple of friends that I love.  To them I would assert that the March is not just about “protest”, it’s also about redemption.  God can ease the pain of regret with the promise of reunion.  Amazing Grace.

Here’s the thing: I will likely forget everything I heard from the polished political speakers that day, but I will never forget that lone mother standing up for truth.  It reminded me of something the prophet Jeremiah wrote:

Thus says the LORD: "Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls.  But they said, "We will not walk in it.'  I set watchmen over you, saying, 'Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!' But they said, 'We will not pay attention.'" - Jeremiah 6:16-18

I don't know if our participation in the Georgia Right To Life March made a real difference in the abortion debate in our country.  The cynics among us would say that "no one paid any attention."  But I learned something important from that trumpet-playing-mom.  Standing up for truth, no matter the specific debate, is really something between you and God.  I think He took note of that mom with her trumpet and I think He took note of our students shivering in the cold.  Did it change anything, really?  It did actually.  It changed something in me.  It transformed my mental image of an "activist."  No longer do I picture a loud, banner-waving, angry person surrounded by hoards of like-minded people.  Now I see it as a personal thing, a strong but simple thing.  Something that stands out the way a tiny penlight stands out in a dark room.  I've seen a true activist and I know what she looks like... and what she sounds like.

Seasons

While I was sitting in the metal bleachers (freezing my hinny off) at last Friday night's high school football game, God put these two contrasting images in my brain.  Amazing.  I came home and searched the archives for the photo on the left, and couldn't wait to unload the photos I had just taken - knowing there would be a version of the photo on the right.  I was startled that the body positions were so similar in the photos taken a year apart.  It was as though God was REALLY making a point to me that He did NOT want me to miss.

I was TRYING to pay attention.  TRYING to tune in and marvel at the faithfulness of God.  And then He went and interrupted my mental focus with such a force... it took my breath.  It wasn't a "breakthrough" or a new epiphany.  It was just a simple truth that was so crystal clear, it hurt my chest to try to contain the emotion of it.  Here's what He brought into my mind:

"And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered; so don't be afraid..." - Matthew 10:30

God was quite aware when the "very hairs" of Keaton's head numbered exactly ZERO.  And I have to believe He's applauded from heaven as each one has grown back.  

The doctors will not give us permission to use the word "remission" for about another 4 years.  (Doctors are a drag.)  But I wanted you to know that Keaton is doing really well.  Are there still daily struggles and physical hurdles to overcome?  Of course.  But the fact is, we couldn't have asked for a better MRI this last round.  We'll continue to hit our knees on a regular basis between subsequent MRIs... which will occur about every 3 months.  Thank you for praying WITH us.  Keaton's Warriors are the best on the planet.  

Seasons.  When we're in a season we'd rather skip, it feels like it will be that way FOREVER. But that's a lie - a very powerful and effective lie.  Satan wants us to give up.  Defeated Christians are not a threat to Satan's agenda.

Perhaps you are still in the middle of your difficult season.  You're stuck in the photo on the left and have no idea when the right half of your story will develop.  That's a hard place to be. I have some friends in that place. It's real, and a cute little blog entry isn't going to fix it.  But this much I KNOW: God is not absent or distant during that season.  We may look in the mirror and see NO hair (or no job or no financial margin or no community or no relief from the current struggle) - but while we're looking in that mirror, God is busy numbering.  He sees both sides of the photo right now.  Faith is the bridge between the two sides of the photo.  Journey on.  Don't quit.

"Listen to me you descendants of Jacob; you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born.  Even to your old age and gray hairs, I am He, I am He who will sustain you.  I have made you and I will carry you;  I will sustain you, and I will rescue you." - Isaiah 46:3-4