Dearest loved ones,

I am praying for you this very moment. I am learning myself how to rejoice in the good as well as the bad. Sometimes I feel like the Lord is saying “Way to go”. Other times, I feel he is saying “tomorrow is a new day my child”. Each day is so different. We are rallying around you and know that God does hears each prayer.

The Eckhardt’s

Roller coasters are for amusements parks.

I am unsure how to communicate this recent development but I got a surprise call from Dr. Damon this morning while Irene was in dialysis. He informed me that Irene’s amyloid value (cappa light chain) is at 90 with an underlying ratio that is twice the norm.

Here is the history of Irene’s cappa light chain values:

The telephone call from Dr. Damon was obviously disconcerting. The test results are from the blood draw taken the very day that Dr. Damon pronounced to us that Irene was in remission (see the update dated March 13, 2008). Dr. Damon is recommending another blood test in the next 30-45 days to see if there is a trending and/or pattern to the increased values. After the test results are learned appropriate mitigation measures will be discussed.

Irene’s tender response to this news was simply, “I guess the joy of remission was short-lived, but the Lord is faithful.”

Irene came home from dialysis very fatigued and rested/napped for the balance of the day.

Yes, roller coasters are for amusement parks. But the imagery clearly illustrates the swing of human emotions and one of the many challenges on Irene’s journey of faith.

Thanks for praying and caring.

Caminando con Fé

Dave

The Ragman, the Ragman, the Christ!
by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

I saw a strange sight. I stumbled upon a story most strange, like nothing my life, my street sense, my sly tongue had ever prepared me for. Hush, child. Hush, now, and I will tell it to you.

Even before the dawn one Friday morning I noticed a young man, handsome and strong, walking the alleys of our City. He was pulling an old cart filled with clothes both bright and new, and he was calling in a clear, tenor voice:  “Rags!” Ah, the air was foul and the first light filthy to be crossed by such sweet music!

“Rags! New rags for old! I take your tired rags! Rags!”

“Now, this is a wonder,” I thought to myself, for the man stood six-feet-four, and his arms were like tree limbs, hard and muscular, and his eyes flashed intelligence. Could he find no better job than this, to be a ragman in the inner city?

I followed him.  My curiosity drove me. And I wasn’t disappointed. Soon the Ragman saw a woman sitting on her back porch. She was sobbing into a handkerchief, sighing, and shedding a thousand tears. Her knees and elbows made a sad X.  Her shoulders shook. Her heart was breaking.

The Ragman stopped his cart.  Quietly, he walked to the woman, stepping round tin cans, dead toys, and Pampers.

“Give me your rag,” he said so gently, “and I’ll give you another.”

He slipped the handkerchief from her eyes. She looked up, and he laid across her palm a linen cloth so clean and new that it shined. She blinked from the gift to the giver.

Then, as he began to pull his cart again, the Ragman did a strange thing: he put her stained handkerchief to his own face; and then HE began to weep, to sob as grievously as she had done, his shoulders shaking. Yet she was left without a tear.

“This IS a wonder,” I breathed to myself , and I followed the sobbing Ragman like a child who cannot turn away from mystery.

“Rags! Rags! New rags for old!” In a little while, when the sky showed grey behind the rooftops and I could see the shredded curtains hanging out black windows, the Ragman came upon a girl whose head was wrapped in a bandage, whose eyes were empty. Blood soaked her bandage.  A single line of blood ran down her cheek.

Now the tall Ragman looked upon this child with pity, and he drew a lovely yellow bonnet from his cart.

“Give me your rag,” he said, tracing his own line on her cheek, “and I’ll give you mine.”

The child could only gaze at him while he loosened the bandage, removed it, and tied it to his own head. The bonnet he set on hers. And I gasped at what I saw: for with the bandage went the wound!  Against his brow it ran a darker, more substantial blood—his own!

“Rags! Rags! I take old rags!” cried the sobbing, bleeding, strong, intelligent Ragman.

The sun hurt both the sky, now, and my eyes; the Ragman seemed more and more to hurry. 

“Are you going to work?” he asked a man who leaned against a telephone pole. The man shook his head.

The Ragman pressed him: “Do you have a job?” “Are you crazy?” sneered the other. He pulled away from the pole, revealing the right sleeve of his jacket — flat, the cuff stuffed into the pocket. He had no arm.

“So,” said the Ragman. “Give me your jacket, and I’ll give you mine.”

Such quiet authority in his voice! The one-armed man took off his jacket. So did the Ragman — and I trembled at what I saw: for the Ragman’s arm stayed in its sleeve, and when the other put it on he
had two good arms, thick as tree limbs; but the Ragman had only one.

“Go to work,” he said.

After that he found a drunk, lying unconscious beneath an army blanket, an old man, hunched, wizened, and sick. He took that blanket and wrapped it round himself, but for the drunk he left new clothes.

And now I had to run to keep up with the Ragman. Though he was weeping uncontrollably, and bleeding freely at the forehead, pulling his cart with one arm, stumbling for drunkenness, falling again and again, exhausted, old, old, and sick, yet he went with terrible speed. On spider’s legs he skittered through the alleys of the City, this mile and the next, until he came to it’s limits, and then he rushed beyond.

I wept to see the change in this man. I hurt to see his sorrow. And yet I needed to see where he was going in such haste, perhaps to know what drove him so.

The little old Ragman — he came to a landfill. He came to a garbage dump.  And then I wanted to help him in what he did, but I hung back, hiding. He climbed a hill. With tormented labor he cleared a little space on that hill. Then he sighed. He lay down. He pillowed his head on a handkerchief and a jacket. He covered his bones with an army blanket. And he died.

Oh, how I cried to witness that death! I slumped in a junked car and wailed and mourned as one who has no hope — because I had come to love the Ragman. Every other face had faded in the wonder of this man, and I cherished him; but he died. I sobbed myself to sleep.

I did not know — how could I know? — that I slept through Friday night and Saturday and its night, too.

But then, on Sunday morning, I was wakened by a violence. Light — pure, hard, demanding light — slammed against my sour face, and I blinked, and I looked, and I saw the last and the first wonder of all. There was the Ragman, folding the blanket most carefully, a scar on his forehead, but alive! And, besides that, healthy! There was no sign of sorrow, nor of age, and all the rags that he had gathered shined for cleanliness.

Well, then I lowered my head and trembling for all that I had seen, I myself walked up to the Ragman. I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him. Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice: “Dress me.”

He dressed me. My Lord, he put new rags on me, and I am a wonder beside him. The Ragman, the Ragman, the Christ!

From Ragman and Other Cries of Faith by Walter Wangerin

The day following Good Friday on the liturgical calendar, is, arguably, the saddest and most hopeless day of the year.  For the original disciples it was, arguably, their darkest hour.  Peter was so bewildered and disenchanted by Jesus’ death that he defaulted to his prior occupation and simply went fishing.

My mom and dad are joining us for the weekend so we’re looking forward to relaxing and enjoying time together.  We pray Irene will continue to be strengthened each passing day of remission.

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?

My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”

Psalm 42:2-3

The day following Good Friday on the liturgical calendar, is, arguably, the saddest and most hopeless day of the year.  However, we now live on the other side of that day, so, perhaps for followers of The Way, it is now a day of deep reflection and meditation as we await the liturgical calendar to turn its page.

Looking to Him,

Dave

What if Jesus had refused the cross?

William Barclay, the Scottish New Testament scholar, explains it this way:

If He had refused the cross or, if in the end, He had come down from the cross, it would have meant there was a limit to God’s love, that there was something which that love was not prepared to suffer for men, that there was a line beyond which it would not go.  But, Jesus went the whole way and died on the cross and this means that there is literally no limit to God’s love, that there is nothing in all the universe which that love is not prepared to suffer for men, that there is nothing, not even death on a cross, which it will refuse to bear for men.

Irene drove herself to and from dialysis treatment today.  JoAnna flew into SJC this morning; she and Irene went to Trader Joe’s and had a relaxing afternoon.  Irene was fatigued from the dialysis treatment but we ventured to dinner at Carpo’s.  We’re looking forward to a restful weekend.

What if Jesus had refused the cross?  Sin and disease would not have been crushed.  The abundant and victorious life would be only a pipe dream.  Eternal life would be only a far fetched delusion.  Purpose and direction in this world would be meaningless and futile. 

Jesus willingly and lovingly remained on the cross, suffering an excruciating death, that we commemorate as Good Friday, in order that we might truly live.

.... he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5

Caminando con Fé

Dave

Dear Dave:

It was a pleasure to meet you by phone this week as I represent Belhaven College.  Little did I know when we first spoke that I would be enriched by a man of great faith with a wonderful love and support for his wife during her illness.

Thank you for your Christian testimony.  Please know that I join you, your wife and so many others as we pray to God in behalf of your wife’s healing.  May you take heart in the reading of Romans 15:13 where it assures us that God is a God of hope.  May His hope surround you and Irene and give you courage, strength and that eternal hope. 

May you and Irene be blessed as you bless others,

Jay P. Chance
Belhaven College
Jackson. Mississippi

My son, keep your father’s commands
and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.

Bind them upon your heart forever;
fasten them around your neck.

When you walk, they will guide you;
when you sleep, they will watch over you;
when you awake, they will speak to you.

For these commands are a lamp,
this teaching is a light,
and the corrections of discipline
are the way to life,

Proverbs 6:20-23

This first day of spring put a skip in Irene’s step today.  The ever present nausea continues but she was very active accomplishing many tasks around the house and enjoying the longer hours of daylight.

Today one of my colleagues at InterWest referred another employee to Irene’s website because her 22 year old niece was hospitalized on Sunday and is experiencing some of the same symptoms that Irene experienced one year ago.  At this time the doctors are baffled as to her diagnosis.  This young person has kidney failure and is already on dialysis.  Please pray for her, although we’re not prepared to release her identity.  We hope to learn more soon and will report back in the days ahead.  We pray that the “Light of men” will enlighten the physicians.

God’s commands are a lamp, the Word’s teaching a light and the corrections of discipline are the way of life.

And that life and light is in the Son.

Caminando con Fé

Dave

Dear Irene and David,

Christine and I have been out of town and just got back on my e-mail. What glorious news to hear that Irene’s Amyloid is in remission. Praise God. Your daily reports have become part of our devotion each day. You two bring such encouragement to God’s faithfulness in your journey with this illness.

Our prayers are with you.

Love from Christine and Tom Kobayashi

Psalm 105

1 Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name;
make known among the nations what he has done.
2 Sing to him, sing praise to him;
tell of all his wonderful acts.
3 Glory in his holy name;
let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
4 Look to the Lord and his strength;
seek his face always.
5 Remember the wonders he has done,
his miracles…

We reflect, rejoice and praise Him who is worthy of our affection.

Caminando con Fé
Dave

Hi Dave and Irene,

I have tears in my eyes at such joyous news. Thank you for continuing to keep us updated. We look forward to the day when Irene has improved kidney function and no nausea!!! We are so happy for you and your family. Take care. We send our love. 

Ron and Debbie Richards

Irene’s walk through the valley of the shadow of death has been, and continues to be very real.  However, her faith and confidence in God stifles the fear factor.

I offer the following high level overview timeline for perspective related to Irene’s journey.

Feb 2007
A routine physical discovers Irene has high cholesterol with a reading in excess of 400; weeks later the level exceeds 500.

March
Symptoms exasperate including two blood clots, edema, irregular heartbeat, loss of protein from the blood into the urine, severe fatigue and nausea.

April
She was admitted to Dominican Hospital/CHW, in Santa Cruz for about 1 week.  Ultimately diagnosed with Nephrotic Syndrome
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nephrotic_syndrome

May
Hospitalized again at Dominican Hospital for two weeks and then transferred to UCSF where she was diagnosed with Primary Amyloidosis
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amyloidosis

June
Chemotherapy, two detached retinas from steroid treatment; stem cell transplant on June 15; two trips to ICU, one Code Blue, 45 blood transfusions, dialysis initiated, skin turned black; loss of finger and toenails.

July
Discharged on July 20, 2007

July — Feb
Home recovery, chronic nausea and dialysis 3 days a week

March 2008
Remission pronounced; nausea continues; still in dialysis three days a week; home recovery continues

Nausea notwithstanding, Irene was on the move all day .... from running errands this morning, getting through her to-do list around the house and enjoying the flower garden.

God makes known the path of life; His Presence does bring fullness of joy .... even through the valley of the shadow of death facing the colossal enemy, Primary Amyloidosis.

Caminando con Fé

Dave

Dear Dave, Irene and family,

Ever since we heard the GOOD NEWS we have been celebrating:  We celebrate YOU, we celebrate LIFE, we celebrate JESUS!! As we see EASTER SUNDAY coming it is so like JESUS to give us this great news at just the right time. All we can say or sing is: ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA!!

LORD WE PRAISE YOU....

His mercies really are new every morning .... GREAT IS HIS FAITHFULNESS.

We Love You,

Phyllis and Jack

Dearest Irene and Dave,

I am amazed by you guys and your journey. Your faithfulness to our Heavenly Father goes beyond measure. The certainty and hope we have in him gives us new breath each day. I am thankful for this hope. Today is a new day and each day is a gift unmeasured. We continue to lift you and your family up in prayer. Thank you for your example to me on living life bearing the torch of Jesus.

Veronica

The primary amyloidosis has retreated into REMISSION and we rejoice in the Lord’s doing.  It is marvelous in our eyes.

Irene drove herself to and from dialysis this morning, where she did experience a nausea episode.  On her way home she made a Starbucks stop for her extra hot, tall, soy, green tea latte, no water, melon or foam, and four scoops of tea.  Later, she worked in the Wisteria Garden and enjoyed the balmy afternoon sun.

Being of Irish descent (ha ha), she prepared corn beef and cabbage for dinner to celebrate the tradition!!

Many of us have prayed for the amyloid to retreat into remission.  God is faithful to His promises and has graciously dispatched his answer to those prayers from Heaven.

From the rising of the sun to its setting we praise Him for REMISSION .... and it truly is a marvel to behold.

Caminando con Fé

Dave