October 16, 2023 - Next Round

      We arrived at Rochester about 11 pm our time after what seemed to be a longer than usual trip.  You’d think by now that I would be used to the almost 12-hour drive.  We could have traveled to Florida. 
      When we turned onto the main street that goes into Rochester, I surprisingly didn’t have the feeling that I usually have when we get here.  It is usually a cross between uncertainty and hope.
      As we neared the motel, which is in sight of the Mayo Clinic buildings, the expected feeling finally came.  The mind and heart can do strange things.
      I’ve shared on previous trips these seemingly mutually exclusive feelings of uncertainty and hope.  My mind would say that they shouldn’t co-exist, but in my heart they do.
      I am thankful that it appears that the thyroid cancer was found early.  I am thankful that typically thyroid cancer is treatable.  Hope comes in at this point.  We are hopeful that through the skill of the medical team and the prayers of God’s people that this third cancer can be moved to the back burner.
      Uncertainty comes from several angles and brings questions.   That’s the nature of uncertainty; it brings questions for which we would like some answers.
      Does the pathology report from Mayo’s doctors match the pathology report from the lab in Lexington?   Is the plan to only remove the right side of my thyroid? How long will we need to stay in Rochester after the surgery?  How long before I can resume my normal lifestyle?  I anticipate that some of those questions will be answered when we meet with the surgeon at 2:00 CST today.
      Here is the big question: Will having surgery on my throat affect my ability to speak?  If so, for how long?  When you have spent your life preaching the gospel, being able to speak is a concern.
      As I have thought about this strange relationship of uncertainty and hope, maybe the two do have some connection.  For me at least, hope comes while I am dealing with the uncertainty. 
      The solid rock on which I stand is my hope.  When the storms of life come and I am firmly on the rock, there is hope and certainty even when the circumstances of life are very much uncertain.
      It is part living by faith in an uncertain world.
      When I walked into the motel to check in, the clerk looks up and sees me and say, “Hi, Chuck.”  That ought to tell you something.  At least she had the reservation on the counter, so she knew we were coming.
      Sydney is a precious heart.  When we thought that we would be in Rochester for six weeks, some folks sent us cards and a care package.  Sydney says, “We have some stuff for you.”  For those of you who may have sent us something and you didn’t get a response, thanks for loving us.
      The Lord willing, we will write a short blog after meeting with the surgeon.  We won’t know the time of the surgery until this evening.
      Thanks for your continued encouragement and prayer support.  The two go hand in hand.
      I am hopeful today in an uncertain world.  My concerns are far from the uncertainties that tens of 1000s of people have today in our world. 
      On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand.