It’s raining.

Today as we headed for radiation #9, Klaus was at the wheel. Torrents of rain accompanied us the entire 80 miles, but I was able to relax in the back seat for a change.

Earlier in the morning, as Nate and I gradually came awake, we did our daily weather check by looking out the bedroom windows. Six tall, narrow windows make up our headboard, and while still lying down, we can look up through the leaves to the sky, as if we were sleeping in a tree fort.

“Looks like more rain,” Nate said. We could hear the pitter patter (pound and splatter) on the roof. As we lay there holding hands and listening to the rain, Nate quietly said, “The rain falls on the just and the unjust.” (Matthew 5:45)

I didn’t respond, waiting for his further thoughts. Finally, when he did speak, I could tell he’d been asking the “why question.”

“The reason I got cancer doesn’t really matter. It’s God’s will, and he knows best.” Although I felt my tears beginning to sting again, he seemed stoic and calm. His statement might have been an important turning point in his thinking.

Those quiet early morning moments wedged between nourishing sleep and tiring medical activity are becoming more valuable every day. Nate’s stamina decreases after each radiation treatment, and life has developed into a tightrope walk between too much pain and too much sleep.

I’m thankful for two on-line mentors who have repeatedly told me, “Cherish every conscious minute before he wants to sleep all the time.” These women, whom I’ve known for years, have not only been through terminal cancer with their husbands, they’ve been through pancreatic cancer with them.

In the last 24 hours, Nate has been awake for only five of them. The sleepy days these women have described are almost here.

After our radiation appointment, as Klaus drove us home, he said to his dad, “I’ll bet you’re really ready for a nap.”

“You’re not kidding,” Nate replied, his passenger seat all the way back and his eyes pinched closed.

Once back at the cottage, he walked in the door and straight upstairs, skipping lunch in the process. The rain was still pounding on the roof as the two of us climbed back into bed. Outside the windows it was dark and stormy… a good day for a long nap.

“It is vain for you to rise up early, to retire late, to eat the bread of painful labors; for He gives to His beloved even in his sleep.” (Psalm 127:2 NASB)

8 thoughts on “It’s raining.

  1. We are praying for each of you and your
    family daily.

    When troubled, I often am reminded of the sure hope we have in the Lord and as
    with the Psalmist can with assurance proclaim :”You are my hiding place.” (Ps 32:7 NASB)
    Love.
    Naomi

  2. Margaret, I want to encourage you to take photographs, as you continue with your journal. Healing Hugs,across these many miles.

  3. The rain AND the tears fall – but we can be thankful for both.

    For the rain becuase it brings needed nourishment to the earth. There will come a time when there will be no rain- only fire.

    For the tears because of the love they express from you- and for you -both. There will come a time when there will be no tears- The Father’s hand will wipe them all away -only The Joy of being forever in His Presence with those we love.

    We share in The Tears, and pray “Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus!”

    Thanks for maintaining the journal. We’re praying for all y’alls.

    Jim and Martye Lowery
    Richmond, VA
    (I LOVE those southern pronouns!)

  4. Mr. And Mrs. Nyman,

    A forwarded e-mail from my mom (Peggy Dau) led me to your blog. After reading several entries I was struck with feelings of pride and gratitude. Pride in a couple who is choosing to face an extremely difficult life situation with dignity, humility, trust, and love; gratitude, because from your bedrock faith, with vulnerability, you are sharing your story with others. Your faithfulness to God and each other is beautiful, and frankly, is an inspiration for me to reconsider the priorities of my life as a Christian/Husband/Father. Know that I am committed to pray for you and your family as you passage this journey together.

    With great respect,

    dan dau

  5. Margaret, please send me your regular email address at the above hotmail. I have a couple videos I’ve received in the past week that I think you will truly enjoy…I’m not adept to getting them on facebook yet. Still praying for you all….and it warms my heart to rad the enouraging words sent your way and to know…you have your precious family there…a miraculous blessing in itself…for sure! “The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; and He knoweth them that trust in Him.” (Nahum 1.7)

  6. As I was reading through some of your earlier blogs…I thought “how appropriate…the wave…and title for your site…..the Lord was preparing you for a TSUNAMI…and it came in the form of cancer.”The Lord will give strength unto His people; the Lord will bless His people with peace.” (Ps.29:11)

  7. Hope you get a group picture of your whole family there with you.
    Even in your most difficult days, you both are an inspiration to all of us who are reading your daily walk.

  8. I’m glad you realized just how precious those moments were at the time. Accepting the fact that he had terminal cancer was so much better than focusing on finding a cure.