It’s official.

We made it. You made it. Five years. The official hand off from the Bone Marrow Transplant team. I like to picture someone, somewhere in some office, adding another count to the “Overall Survival at 5 Years” column. Jennings is a part of the survival graph for relapsed AML that tails off the page, having flatlined after the ski-slope resembling drop in the first year.

What a journey it’s been. It ended as simply as it began – routine bloodwork in an exam room. One set of results launching us into an unfamiliar world, another set quietly marking our exit. In between we’ve been knocked down, stomped on, kicked, then picked up, dusted off, cleaned up, and restored. And all of that multiple times over with varying levels of intensity. We’ve come to learn true suffering, experiencing a sense of helplessness and heartbreak that words on a page don’t ever seem to capture. We’ve known depths of despair that made us lament the “normal” life we once had, the naivety we once walked in.

We still, at times, grieve the loss of that…the times that were stolen. At two and a half, Jennings was such a beautiful boy…in the chunky toddler stage with blonde curly hair. Three weeks into treatment, he was bald and three months in, he was skin and bone, frail. That sense of toddler innocence, gone, along with the hair and the weight.

That was our prayer for a long time – that, as the prophet Joel (no, not me silly…that would be irreverent at best) says in Joel 3:25, God would restore to us the years that the swarming locust has eaten. He has answered that prayer. We had a beautiful season of life as a family of six in between his recovery from his first transplant and his relapse. There was a solid year and a half where we traveled, lived life to the full, and hunkered down as a family during COVID, actually relishing the time together it gave us. We have experienced it even more on this side of his second transplant. In those first couple of years, we said “yes” to a lot, took the trips, and made the memories, not knowing if, soon, those would be all we would have.

Now, we’re at a point of inflection. We stand here in today and look back through tears of joy, amazed at what God has shown us in deeply personal ways. I actually just had to get up and get tissues to wipe my snotty, tear shmeared face…the weight of it has not come over me like that in a while. But, we have seen Ephesians 3:20-21, “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”

And we look forward from today as well. I’m writing this from our home-home, sitting in the new addition, looking out of the big windows we added to our main living space that look out into the trees of our backyard, full of green, new life. We no longer look on tomorrow, as we did before his diagnosis, as a guarantee, taking it for granted. But we also no longer look on tomorrow with an impending sense of doom, as we once did in the valley. I think we live with a healthy tension, seeking to walk in James 4:15, “If the Lord wills…”

I am maybe most amazed at how grateful I am for being a part of this story. I’m not sure everyone that walks through suffering gets to that point. Our pastor said it recently in a sermon, when you face significant trials, you either get bitter or get better. By God’s grace, I am better. I can hold what we walked through with great reverence and awe. I am more confident in my faith because it has been tested. There is no shortcut to that, I do not believe. I have experienced Isaiah 61:3 and been given “a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit.” I can sit here today and reflect on how our lives resemble the Japanese art of Kintsugi where broken pottery is put back together using gold so that the resulting piece is more beautiful and stronger than it once was. To God be the glory.

I know, I know. After five years, you have to wade through all of that introspection just to get to the pictures. This is what 5-years-post-BMT looks like. 👆 Still plenty of vials of blood, compared to the two (I think) that are required at my annual physical, but not enough for Jennings to take one home. He told Lauren before his labs, “I’d like to have a tube of my blood for my memory box. Do you think we can ask for one?” Not only could he not get one, but he had to go through two pokes to get going…that’s round 2 on the top right. He was a champ but understandably not loving it. Bottom left, another PFT to check his lung capacity. I have become convinced over the years that this is the hardest test procedure to explain to a child. No matter what they try, the concept just doesn’t land and the results are all over the board. Bottom right, Jennings mid body slam of his invisible wrestling partner in the exam room in the BMT clinic.

The rest of our trip to Memphis was solid. We knew it would probably be our last time as a family and, in an appropriate way, it felt like that. We saw what we wanted to see and did the things we really wanted to do, but didn’t feel compelled to try to do it all. We’ve experienced so much of it and it has been such a solace to us in many ways, but it’s time to move on.

Left to right, top to bottom: We hit up IHOP for something different on the trip out there. That’s Henry’s breakfast order - the face 😂. The obligatory stop at Buc-Ee’s is never complete without Charlotte draping herself all over the beaver for a photo. We met Miss Cafween and Zach (and their little one!) for dinner one evening…she was such a gift to us that first time in Memphis! It has been a joy to watch her, and now her and Zach, grow over these years. Jennings and Charlotte at Tom Lee Park along the river. That has become the mandatory first stop once we pull into Memphis. I love the old school safety approach of it - they're probably 12’ off the ground with zero rails or restraints. Love that picture of the boys with the M bridge in the background. They had the most fun skipping rocks in the Mississippi…like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. One last duck march at The Peabody…this was our last night in Memphis and we were unfortunately down a couple with Henry coming down with a random stomach bug. The last one is the Year 5 edition of Jennings at the hope sign.

It wasn’t all Memphis since we last corresponded, so here’s a few more to fill in around the edges. 👇

Left to right, top to bottom again: Can you tell that Jennings loves pictures? That’s everyone dressed up for Easter. Next, we officially have a teenager! Still sounds a little strange coming out. Caroline had her close friends for a sleepover at a hotel, kudus to L for chaperoning that one. The following evening, we had a little family rite of passage ceremony where everyone wrote a letter to encourage her as she enters this next stage of life. The next several are from our stop in Atlanta on the way back from Memphis. We had the idea a while back to plan this as a celebration for Jennings and his official 5-year appointment. It turned out that we would be traveling back on his actual 11th birthday and the Braves were in town…it turned out perfectly! We got there early and got on the field for batting practice, thanks to some old friends with connections. Jennings got an autograph from one of the Guardians players. It also turned out to be Dale Murphy jersey giveaway night, so we came home with 6 Dale Murphy retro jerserys…he happened to be my original favorite Braves player. Then, our tickets came with access to “Chipper’s Corner” who was my next favorite Braves player. Finally, Jennings current favorite Braves player, Ronald Acuna Jr., crushed a home run and was named player of the game. Lastly, nothing wraps up a week of vacation eating like chili dogs, onion rings, and milkshakes from The Varsity.

I mentioned last time that we would be in some interim, half-moved state at the time of this post. Welp, that’s exactly where we are. Our builder got all of his final inspections passed while we were in Memphis and worked to wrap up most of the remaining items over the past couple of weeks. As of this past Wednesday, we have officially moved back home!! We still have tons of stuff to get out of the rental, but all of the big furniture is moved. Oh, and there is a full storage unit to get out of at some point too. The project turned out great and went really well overall, so I’m focusing on remembering to be grateful amidst of the moving, unpacking, putting together, hanging, etc etc etc. 😅

Clockwise from top left: We managed to solve most of the functional issues we set out to at the outset of this adventure. That’s us in our enlarged main living space with the windows I referenced earlier. We now have a pantry, which is a major functional victory with four growing kids. We also have an actual drop zone, but whether or not it will actually be properly used remains to be seen. Last, but certainly not least, we have a master bathroom with dual sinks and a tub - a first in our 16-year marriage.

So, where do we go from here? I’ve thought a good bit about what to do when this month rolled around. I think (leaving myself an out there 😉) I will keep writing, but without the focus on Jennings and his journey through pediatric cancer. It will be family updates, photos, and maybe other musings. I’ll post it on the same site, but will discontinue the email broadcast. So, you will have to check the site if you want to keep reading it…and absolutely no hard feelings if not!

I want to thank each of you for your faithfulness in following to this point and praying for Jennings. In talking through the power of prayer, James uses Elijah as an example. He was a man with a nature like ours – the difference was that he prayed and prayed fervently. You have been our Elijahs. We are forever indebted to those who have lifted up countless prayers on behalf of Jennings and our family - our families, our friends, and even those we’ve never even met.

I don’t claim to know God’s reasons or why he chose Jennings and our family to walk this road. But I can’t help but think of Jesus when he meets the blind man and his disciples are asking why he was born blind. Jesus responds, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.” That’s got to be at least a part of what God has going on. I’m just grateful to have been a part of it.

That’s all folks!

#allinforjennings