Notes From My Journey

God Stories 3 – March 26, 2025

Let’s jump ahead about eleven years from last week’s Vietnam Story to something that happened to me and my friend John on the Rio Cobre Road between Kingston and Linstead Jamaica.

Jean and I had sold our business in 1975 after serving at Bible Way, the Jesus People Church in Richland, WA as volunteer staff for a couple of years. Our ministry supported a group of churches led by a Canadian missionary and based in Ewarton, St Catherine, Jamaica. Each year we sent teams from Bible Way to teach and serve in the Jamaican churches and to assist the missionaries.

Jean and I had made a two-week ministry visit to Jamaica in early 1977 to minister at an annual denominational convention and assist in several of the churches. Early the next year, the missionaries needed to make an extended trip back to Canada to take care of business and rest a bit, so Bible Way sent Jean and me to oversee the ministry in Jamaica for a month. Another couple from the church and the pastor and wife from one of our outreach churches accompanied us.

The second day after we arrived in Ewarton, after receiving some orientation and instruction on the work we would be doing for the next month, my friend John and I drove the missionaries to the airport in Kingston for their flight to Calgary and then headed back to the village.

We drove through downtown Kingston, an adventure in itself, then through Spanish Town and began making our way into the hills. For a few miles, we drove along the Rio Cobre, with a rock cliff on our left and the drop-off to the river on our right. Once we crossed Flat Bridge, the cliff would be on our right and the river on our left.

As we came around a blind curve (driving on the left in a left-hand drive car – always best to have a navigator to see what’s coming in the other lane), I saw a stalled country bus in the right hand lane right at the edge of the drop-off to the river. People were milling around the bus. Straight in front of me, in my lane, an overloaded dump truck was heading directly toward my car. We were trapped! The rock cliff on my left, the stalled bus on my right, and the front bumper and grill of the dump truck filling the view through the windshield, roaring toward me at full speed.

I think I yelled “Jesus!” (what else are you going to say?) and swerved the wheel toward the rocks on my left. Then suddenly, in my rearview mirror, I saw the rear of the dump truck roaring away from me in a cloud of diesel smoke, open road in front of me, and the stalled country bus with its crowd of passengers milling around several car lengths behind me. I quickly slowed for the sharp right turn onto Flat Bridge, crossed the river, and we made the remaining miles to Ewarton, mostly in silence, without incident.

For a tiny fraction of a second, a country bus, a dump truck, and the 1965 Plymouth Valiant I was driving all occupied the same piece of road between the cliff on one side and the river on the other side and there was no crash! One moment there was a loaded dump truck coming straight at me in my lane, with a stalled bus on one side and rock cliff on the other. The next instant I was seeing the back of the dump truck in my rear view mirror!

We finished our month of service to this group of churches in rural Jamaica, a month that included teaching and preaching, dedications and funerals, learning about a culture other than our own, and forming deep relationships that have lasted a lifetime. Then we traveled back home to the USA, to our ministry of service as part of the staff of Bible Way. But the time of serving the people of Jamaica had planted something in our hearts. We were beginning a new season of change and transition that would open up nearly two decades of overseas missionary service and lead to involvements and experiences we had not expected or imagined.

In 1984 we moved from Medford Oregon to Linstead, St Catherine, Jamaica and for the two-plus years we lived in Linstead before moving to Kingston, I drove that Flat Bridge Road dozens of times. I was 34 years old when this incident took place. I’m 82 now and I can still see the front bumper and grille of that roaring dump truck headed straight at us and I can still see in the rearview mirror the back of the truck trailing a cloud of diesel smoke as it roared away from us toward Kingston!

You know, there’s no natural explanation for what happened in that fraction of a second that afternoon on the Flat Bridge road in St Catherine, Jamaica. God saved me and my passenger and the people standing around the stalled bus and the guy in the dump truck! I believe this to be the reality we experienced!

That was the Miracle on the Rio Cobre at Flat Bridge!

Thanks for reading my story! Grace to you today!

Jim Stephens

It was monsoon season in South Vietnam and we had just had one of our early evening monsoon rains (what my friends from the southern US called “gully washers”) rumble through.

The rain had stopped, evening dark had settled in, and I was standing in the mud just outside our company area, watching the towering storm clouds and flashing lightning move northward away from us. I saw a group of three attack helicopters to the north of my position executing a fire mission on an area of jungle less than a mile away just outside our base camp perimeter. It was loud and colorful as the noise of distant thunder mixed with the sound of the mini-guns on the helicopters, and the lines of red fire from the tracers mixed with the flashes of distant lightning. Then the attack Hueys swung around and made another pass launching rockets into the darkness and the white streaks of the rockets blossomed into red and orange mushrooms as they hit. The assault continued for several minutes until the Hueys had run out of ammunition or completed the fire mission and swung away turning back toward the airfield. It was just like a scene from a war movie, except that it was real war, not a movie!

The scene still comes to my mind vividly fifty-eight years later! The massive monsoon thunderheads rising into the sky, lightning flashing back and forth between the towering clouds, and the streaming gunfire and streaking rockets from the Hueys pounding a suspected VC outpost. For some reason it made me think of the greatness and majesty of God’s power to create and the comparatively puny but deadly power of man to destroy.

In that moment, I found myself saying, “God I believe in you! If you’re real, I pray that you will lead me and guide me and allow me to really know you. I want to serve you. I want to offer my life to live for you and your purpose!” And I knew! In that moment I knew that God was real, that God had heard me, and that when I returned to “The World” at the end of my tour in Vietnam, that somehow I was going to serve God’s purpose. I was twenty-four years old when I experienced this God Encounter.

I did get back to the world and to my wife and daughter, and I did get on with my life. Through Bible studies with friends in our home, through a new awareness of the reality of the Holy Spirit, and through the wonderful opportunity to be involved in the Jesus People Movement, I came to know God more and more. Jean and I found opportunity to serve in practical ways and in spiritual ways we had never imagined.

Since that night 58 years ago, there have been opportunities, challenges, changes, steps of faith, choices large and small, and a lifetime of learning, teaching and walking with God. It’s not a straight line from then to now, but looking back, the path is clear.

In our twenties and early thirties, we moved from owning a business to serving as pastors, assisting outreach churches, then planting a church. In our later thirties and early forties we were serving as missionaries, writing training curricula, and developing Bible Training Centres in Jamaica. Our later forties and early fifties saw us moving from Jamaica to the UK, opening and developing Bible Training Centres in London and other locations, and taking the Training Centres to several countries in Africa. Then in our late fifties and sixties, moving back to the US and serving on the staff of a mega-church in Central Oregon, serving as part of the Superintendent’s team for the Cascade District of the Foursquare denomination, then continuing to mentor younger men and women, and writing. We also continued to make ministry trips to Africa to further develop the Training Centre ministry. In fact, I celebrated my 65^th birthday month ministering in South Africa, Botswana, and Malawi! It’s been a great life all the way along, filled with experiences and challenges we never saw coming!

Still, as I think back to that night standing in the mud in Vietnam, I know 24-year-old Jim had an Encounter with God that set my life on a new course. Something happened in me that night, and there’s a direct link from that God Encounter to who Jean and I have become and what we’ve done from that day forward.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll share some stories of encounters and experiences with God. These stories kind of sort themselves into three categories: Experiences with God’s Presence, Experiences with God’s Power, and Experiences with God’s Provision. (Please excuse the alliteration! After fifty-plus years of preaching and teaching, sometimes I just can’t help it!)

Thanks for reading my story! I’d love to hear from you! Grace to you today!

Jim Stephens

Hey Friends! It’s been a long time since I’ve written a blog post! Here’s what’s happening with my health and here’s what I’m planning in terms of more consistent communication:

In January of 2021 I made a commitment to myself (and to you) to write a post for Notes From My Journey every week for the year. Little did I know that three months into the year I’d be diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma blood cancer!

I began treatment in March and continued treatment through the year with the hope that I’d make enough progress against the cancer with the oral meds and infusions to be able to have a Stem Cell Transplant (aka Bone Marrow Transplant) at OHSU in September or October. I made good progress and we planned the SCT for October, but as I was undergoing the final preparations for the Stem Cell Harvest everything slid to a halt because there were no beds available due to COVID cases.

Four months of waiting, then in mid-January we spun up the process again and Jean and I moved in with our daughter and her family in Portland to finalize all the tests and get ready for the killer chemo. On February 2, 2022 we did the transplant at OHSU. I stayed in the hospital for about two weeks. Then I was released to stay with our kids in Portland for another month until I finished the almost daily checkups and infusions that would allow me to come back home to Bend and resume treatment by the oncology team at St Charles Medical Center. It was during this process that my resolve to write a blog post every week failed! Sorry!

Because the Stem Cell Transplant destroys the body’s immune system along with the cancer cells, I had to isolate almost completely from that point onward. I had to wear an N95 mask everytime I left the house. I had to get all my childhood vaccines done again and now have to be careful of most any kind of potential viral or bacterial infection. I was hospitalized for a couple of days with an intestinal infection in 2023 but I’m doing well and being careful!

I’m getting stronger! The maintenance treatment I have now consists of an infusion every two weeks, blood draws twice monthly, and monthly visits with my oncologist. I’m in remission right now and most of the physical challenges I face are due to the side-effects of the maintenance treatment. And possibly the fact that I’m an old geezer! I’m only a month away from my 82^nd birthday!

I’m walking in the desert nearly every day with my dog Jake, but still isolating a lot and being infectious-disease conscious. Life is Good!

This is going a little longer than I’d planned, but here’s what I’m going to be doing: I’ve experienced some things through my years of life on the planet and life in relationship with God that I need to tell you about. Some of these experiences are “God Encounters” in which I believe God communicated something very specific to me and some of them are “God Interventions” in which God provided or protected in an unnatural or above-natural way. I hope they are meaningful for you.

I’ll plan to get something posted each week until I get the stories told! They’ll go out by email to the “Notes From My Journey” mailing list and I’ll post them to my blog at https://www.jimastephens.com.

Grace to you!

Jim Stephens

Here’s a little background to this post: When I started my blog several years ago I named it “Notes From My Journey”. My intent was to write to you about what was happening currently in my life and dig into what I was learning from life’s experiences day by day. Writing for my blog soon became pretty sporadic as it’s hard for me to track life’s learning experiences on a weekly calendar basis. So in January 2021 I recommitted to writing the blog and began with a series on the Prodigal Son from Jesus’ story in Luke 15. I made a commitment to myself that I’d write a new post every week. Then a couple of months into the year, I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma Cancer and a new and amazing chapter of my life began.

In the midst of all that was going on I managed to post something every week for all of 2021. Much of what I wrote in 2021 is series of posts on topics, questions, application of scriptures, and things I think about. There’s some really good stuff in there and you can find it archived month by month at https://www.jimastephens.com. Then along came 2022 and the SCT and my posting took a hit! I was still sending my GraceNotes daily devotional every day (If you’re not already subscribed you can sign up for the free GraceNotes daily email at https://www.resourceministries.org/devotionals/grace-notes/). But it seemed that my blogging took a backseat and ended up being only a health update once a month.

But early on June 5, as I was walking in the desert east of town with Jake the Desert Bone Dog, something happened! It was a damp and cool, post-rainy but still cloudy, Sunday morning. It was also a very sensory morning. There was a little breeze blowing and it felt good on my face. The pungent scent of wet juniper was strong, and mixed well with the comfortable smell of sage brush. It was really nice!

That morning, I had decided to take a trail that led south to the southern boundary of the BLM reserve where we do much of our desert walking. I hadn’t done that trail since sometime before the transplant and I thought I’d like to see if I had gained back enough strength to do it. I was pretty much lost in thought and prayer and watching Jake be a dog and it was a while, but eventually I realized that time-wise I should be there by now! It was a cloudy, grey morning, so there was no sun to navigate by, and if you’ve hiked in a Juniper desert forest, you know that due to the randomness of the Juniper trees, you can’t see very far in any direction. So I began to watch more carefully around me and thought about the trail details and my surroundings: the lava ridge to my right, the very large dead Juniper ahead on my left, and I realized I was on the wrong trail!

I was heading west, not south, and I wasn’t going to get to the fence and the gate I thought I was headed for! And the end of the trail I was on was too far for the time and energy I had this morning. So I turned around and headed back the way I came. I watched more carefully this time and saw where I had drifted right, off the north-south part of the trail and sort of merged onto the largely unused trail that ran a couple of miles to the west boundary of the BLM reserve. It’s a trail I had walked before and it’s got great features! But I needed to be back to town in time for church. This trail would have to wait for another time and another day’s energy and strength.

Getting on the Wrong Trail changed my plans for the morning’s walk. I had to turn around and go back the way I came and didn’t make it to the south gate I was headed for. I did a lot of thinking and praying and keeping track of Jake for the half hour or so it took to get back to the car, but it was really joyful! It felt like the dryness and the “Inspiration-lessness” I wrote about last week was over. The sense of God’s presence was with me again! By the time church was over and the day ended I felt like God has given me a fresh beginning! Let’s see what happens!

The lessons I learned from the Wrong Trail that morning are really important lessons for me in my present situation! Here’s some of what I’ve been thinking:

• • In eight decades of life, I’ve learned far more from my mistakes than from the things I got right the first time. The wrong trail may not have got me where I thought I was going, but if I learned from my mistake and got back on the right trail as soon as I knew what was happening, nothing was wasted. The thing we’ve got to be careful about in learning from our mistakes is not to learn more from the experience than we should. Mark Twain wrote, “A cat that sits on a hot stove will never sit on a hot stove again. But neither will she sit on a cold stove!”
  • I’m realizing (and I’m not sure how to express this the way I’m seeing it) that I tend to have a very narrow, sometimes too narrow, view of “right trail”/“wrong trail”. I don’t mean that we shouldn’t have clarity on right and wrong in terms of moral issues or in terms of things that are harmful or hurtful to ourselves and others. What I do see more clearly is that a thing that someone else does or the way they do a thing may be right for them but not right for me. Or that a thing may be wrong for me right now, but right at another time or in another situation. Does that make sense to you?
  • Next time I can choose to walk the trail that was the “Wrong Trail” this time. I can go out to the desert when I have the time and energy to walk it to the end and it’ll be great! Choosing that trail at the right time in the right situation makes the “Wrong Trail” the right trail.

As soon as time and energy permits, I plan to drive out to the trailhead and choose the “Wrong Trail” and as soon as I choose it, it won’t be the wrong trail anymore. That trail will take me on a very scenic and enjoyable hike (with some twists and turns and ups and downs) to a new destination of my choice. And Jake the Desert Bone Dog will have the time of his life! Maybe he’ll even come up with a new bone or two!

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, please leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, I’d love for you to click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.

In January 2021 I re-started my blog, Notes from My Journey. I made a commitment to myself that I would write a blog post each week for the entire year. I got off to a good start for the first couple of months, then in March I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma cancer, began a first-in-my life round of tests and scans and doctor appointments and began treatment in mid-April with three anti-cancer drugs (targeted chemotherapy).

A pill every day, infusion once a week, more pills every Thursday. Blood tests once a month, bone marrow biopsies periodically, and appointments with my oncologist monthly. I was doing pretty well! Cancer numbers were going down, other stuff looked good, and I was so fortunate to have very little adverse reaction to the treatment.

After a few months my oncologist mentioned a treatment called Stem Cell Transplant that had really good results with many patients achieving full remission from the cancer for  a significant period of time. My oncologist knew one of the doctors at Oregon Health and Science University Hospital in Portland, OR and contacted him about taking me on as a candidate for the SCT. He agreed to begin the testing process, even though at age 78 I was at the very upper end of the age range of patients they would consider. As we proceeded with the testing and scans, my results looked good. I was staying relatively strong, and I was accepted as a candidate for the transplant.

Our daughter Stephanie and her husband Philip and son Jesse live in the Portland area and they made their guest room available to Jean and me for as long as we needed it. So we went to Gresham in September, 2021 and I began a grueling almost two week process of preparation: Scans, examinations, blood tests, and pokings and proddings I will not describe here. This culminated in the harvest of Stem Cells from my blood that would be re-introduced after a two-day chemotherapy treatment that would kill all the cancer in my blood (along with my bone marrow and all the cells that make up my immune system).

Then we experienced a four-month delay in the process! Due to COVID, there were no intensive care beds available at OHSU, so the stem cells had to be frozen and my transplant postponed until beds became available. In January I was back on the schedule at last! Into the hospital on January 31. Stem Cell transplant on February 2, strong enough to leave the hospital on February 12. Then outpatient appointments for the next few weeks while we stayed with Philip and Stephanie and Jesse, and then release to return home to Bend on March 7.

I’ve been making good progress since then. In fact I’ve been fortunate to have very little adverse reaction to all the cancer drugs and treatments since beginning treatment in April of 21. And I stayed strong enough through it all that I was a viable candidate for the transplant. And I’ve recovered steadily (If slowly. At least it seems slow when you’re doing it day by day and hour by hour). And I’m still getting stronger every week.

I’m so very thankful to God that I’m presently in full remission from the cancer! I’m so thankful for the medical teams at St Charles Oncology here in Bend and at Knight Cancer center at OHSU in Portland. I’m so thankful for all the friends and family who have stayed in touch and given encouragement at the tough times in the process. I’m so thankful for everyone who has prayed for us, encouraged us, and given generously to help support us in financial and other practical ways during this process.

Anyhow, here’s an interesting thing! With everything that happened in 2021, I still managed to keep my commitment to myself and my readers to write a blog post every week. But something changed in the process of the hospitalization and SCT. Since February, I’ve only managed to post occasional health updates, and only about once a month. I know I included a little “thought for the day” kind of paragraph in each one, along with a “think about this” sort of question, but the “post every week” thing just crashed! I’m not sure why, but my inspiration tank was on empty. And I couldn’t really figure out how to fill it! I wrote paragraphs about this and that and made lists of things I could write for blog posts, but it seemed completely inspiration-less! I fretted about it, I prayed seriously about it, and finally I mostly accepted it. I guess I gave myself permission not to write anything if I didn’t have anything to write! I wasn’t happy about it, but there didn’t seem to be anything for it but to let it be.

Some lessons learned during my SCT and recovery so far:

• • (Almost) everything is a process.
  • Sometimes you just can’t! And when you “just can’t” just don’t!
  • Don’t give up. Keep looking and listening. Keep pressing into the fog until it clears.

Then yesterday, Sunday morning June 5, I was walking in the desert before church with Jake the Desert Bone Dog, and I got on the wrong trail. I was having one of my usual desert-walking conversations with God and more or less suddenly it seemed like grey turned to sunshine and things started to look brighter! And when we tuned in to online church with the others in our small group of “on-liners”, Pastor Evan gave an exhortation that really made me hopeful, then Pastor Steve spoke a message that spoke deeply to me, and the Holy Spirit breathed something new and fresh into my life! I can’t wait to tell you more about it – in next week’s blog post. Stay tuned!

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, please leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, I’d love for you to click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.

Hey Friends, It’s been more than a month since I posted an update on my health, cancer treatment, and Stem Cell Transplant! So here’s some of what’s happened since the last post:

Today is Day +117 since the SCT. My most recent appointment with my local oncologist was on Thursday, May 5 and on Monday, May 23 I had a video follow-up appointment with the doctor who oversaw my transplant at OHSU. This month I’ve had the full range of lab work and another bone marrow biopsy and all the results show that my cancer is in full remission!

As you’re probably aware, the Stem Cell Transplant isn’t a “quick fix”, but knowing that and keeping that foremost in mind aren’t the same thing. Before the STC, I had to semi-isolate and wear a mask everywhere I went to avoid getting infected with COVID and losing out on the transplant. Now I have to isolate even more and wear an N95 mask everywhere I go to avoid infections from colds, flu, leaf mold, dust particles, you name it.

Before the STC, my immune system was compromised, mostly by the cancer treatment medications.  But I still had the benefit of all the work my body had done through the years and all the vaccinations I’d had and the disease resistance I’d built up through a lifetime. Now I have none of that. My COVID vaccinations are gone, along with flu shots, shingles vaccine, measles, mumps, and all the other childhood disease inoculations. But here’s the good news on the immunization front: I can start a two-year process of getting re-vaccinated with all those childhood vaccinations and immunities we all take for granted! Big news: I just got the first of my COVID re-vaccinations!

Anyhow, the cancer is in remission! I’m still mostly isolating as my immune system rebuilds but there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I’m on a maintenance treatment consisting of a reduced daily dose of one of the three cancer drugs I have been taking for treatment for the past year. Side effects of the maintenance treatment are minimal so far. When I was first diagnosed with Stage 2 Multiple Myeloma in March 2021, the longevity prognosis was 2 to 5 years. Here we are a year later after a Stem Cell Transplant and the prognosis is 7 to 10 years! I love that kind of math!

My family and I are so thankful for everything that’s happened, for all the prayers and support and encouragement from so many caring people! We’re so thankful for the medical care from my team at St Charles Oncology in Bend and at Knight Cancer Center at OHSU! We’re so thankful to God for healing and health and for every day God gives! I’ve known this truth for ten years but I know it in an even stronger and deeper way now, Every day is a gift from God!

Are there lessons for me in all this? You bet there are! One lesson is that this is a process! Last month’s update was all about me learning to accept, for the 100^th time that it’s all a process!

My beard and mustache are growing back after being destroyed by the chemo. My hair, what there is of it, is growing back. That’s a process. Hard to tell any difference from one day to the next, but from one month to the next it’s clear to see.

I mentioned this a couple of months ago, but I’m still learning its lessons. Our car was damaged in a fender-bender accident (those should be called “plastic breaker” accidents now, right?) last November and it took over two months to get it into the body shop. Once it was in the body shop it took five weeks to get it repaired because they couldn’t get the parts it needed.

On the other hand:

• • My grandsons Jude and Zane helped me patch it together with bolts and screws and high strength duct tape and we drove it a couple thousand miles while waiting for the body shop repair.
  • Then, once it was in for repair, the insurance company paid for a rental car five years newer than my Subie while we waited for the repair to be completed.
  • The point is, even though the whole car fixing process took over three months, we were never without adequate transportation and it all worked out just fine.

But the thing that reminds me I still have a lot of growing up to do (Remember: aging is mandatory, maturing is optional!) is how much time I spent stressing and feeling otherwise agitated during the process.

Some days I feel stuck! In those moments, it’s easy to be frustrated that I can’t (yet) go where I want to go and do what I want to do. And it’s harder to keep focused on the fact that if I successfully navigate the first three months (done), then the first six months (working on it), then the first year post-transplant, God’s wonderful provision of healing and health care has added the potential of seven to ten years or more to my lifespan.

Do you feel like you’re stuck? Like you’re waiting for this big thing that’s going to happen at some known or anticipated date in the future and you’re just stuck in limbo until it happens? Don’t miss the gift you have of today, the gift you had of yesterday, and the gift of all the days between now and the magic moment you’re waiting for!

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, please leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, I’d love for you to click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.

It’s been a month since I posted an update on my health, cancer treatment, and Stem Cell Transplant! So here’s some of what’s happened since the last post on 03-14-22:

Today is Day +70 since the SCT. My most recent appointment with my local oncologist was on Thursday, April 7 and the lab results from that visit are encouraging. I’ve begun to feel better and a little stronger. I wish I could say I’m feeling better and stronger every day, but it’s not like that. There are still good days and not so good days, but the good days are more so and the not so good days less so in terms of frequency and intensity.

Since returning home to Bend in early March, we’ve been doing frequent walks in the desert with Jake the Desert Bone Dog and I’m able to add a little distance to the walk most every time. I’m still not quite up to the standard we had before, but I’m going to get there. And beyond!

We knew the Stem Cell Transplant wasn’t a “quick fix”, but knowing that and keeping that foremost in mind aren’t the same thing. Even with the positive indicators, it’s hard to feel very excited when progress seems so slow. It’s hard to know what to tell and how to answer when people ask how I’m doing.  “A little better” is not big news. Except when it is.

Before the SCT, I had to semi-isolate and wear a mask everywhere I went to avoid getting infected with COVID and losing out on the transplant. Now I have to semi-isolate and wear an N95 mask everywhere I go to avoid infections from colds, flu, leaf mold, dust particles, you name it. I can’t eat bleu cheese dressing (mold), vacuum the carpet (microorganisms in the dust), share dishes and utensils (general germs), or eat rare-cooked steak (whatever!)!

Before the SCT, my immune system was compromised, but I still had the benefit of all the work my system had done through the years and all the vaccinations I’d had and the disease resistance I’d built up through a lifetime. Now I have none of that. My COVID vaccinations are gone, along with flu shots, shingles vaccine, measles, mumps, and all the other childhood disease inoculations. After a few months, I’ll begin getting vaccinations again as my immune system gets strong enough to manage them. In the meantime, it’s frustrating to be even more restricted than I was before the SCT.

Are there lessons for me in all this? You bet there are! One of the things I’m realizing is that I’m not as mature as I thought I was. I’m definitely as old as I thought I was, but not as mature as I thought. (You see, aging is mandatory, but maturity is optional!)

So some days I feel like I’ve taken steps backward instead of forward. In those moments, it’s easy to be frustrated that I can’t go where I want to go and do what I want to do. And it’s harder to keep focused on the fact that if I successfully navigate the first three months, then the first six months, then the first year post-transplant, I’ve very likely added the potential of five or six years or more to my lifespan.

I’m in full remission from the Multiple Myeloma cancer right now. The mutation that caused the cancer cells to develop is still there in my DNA, but the cells are wiped out now by the chemo I had just prior to the transplant. In another 30 days or so, at around day +90 to day +100, I’ll have another bone marrow biopsy, another scan, and another complete set of lab tests. This will establish a new sort of benchmark that can help guide us in what sort of maintenance treatment I’ll have going forward.

So, “How am I doing?” There’s a short answer (I’m doing better) and a long answer (but it’s kind of complicated).

The whole “cancer process” so far has been good for my faith.

• • It’s helped me clarify my thoughts about life and death and longevity.
  • It’s helped me wrestle with some important theological issues and questions.
  • It’s strengthening in me a deep gratitude and thankfulness to God for the life I’ve been given and the people and experiences and blessings that have come my way.
  • It’s pointed out very clearly that I’ve got a lot to learn, a lot of growing and maturing to do, and that I have a stewardship privilege with every day I wake up.

Some of you will relate when I say, “I want to be mature and I want it RIGHT NOW!” A big part of the lesson for me as I realize this process is going to take a while longer than I expected, is to relax a little, slow down a little, and celebrate little steps of progress in my health and my soul. And when I’m really tired, it’s okay to take a little nap!

So it’s a process! How long does the process last? As long as it takes! Here’s a couple of questions that help me appreciate and respect the process more when I can remember to think about and process them:

• • This thing that I’m going through, is it an event or a process? Is it reasonable to expect it to be all done and wrapped up in a nice little package or do I need to accept that it’s going to take a while?
  • What is the desired outcome of this process? What are the short-term sacrifices that lead to the long-term benefits? How can I better focus on the desired outcome?
  • How can I develop and maintain a deep awareness and gratitude that God has filled my life with blessings beyond counting?
  • How can I better understand what others are going through and how they feel, and help and encourage them as a result of my “process”?
  • Are we there yet?!?

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, please leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, I’d love for you to click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.

I didn’t realize how long it’s been since I posted an update on my health, cancer treatment, and Stem Cell Transplant! So here’s some of what’s happened since the last post on 02-22-22. Sorry for the delay! By the way, my Stem Cell Transplant began at 2:02 PM on 02-02-2022. It took just over an hour.

This is REALLY from the other side! Remember a couple of posts back I told you about my local oncologist, Dr. Clover, saying to me as I walked out the door into the world of Stem Cell Transplants, “I’ll see you on the other side!”? In my previous post I wrote to you “from the other side.” The transplant was done, I was feeling worse each day as the chemo took its toll, then gradually better each day as my bone marrow recovered and my blood counts improved. Then, just a day short of two weeks in the hospital, I was released to stay at Stephanie and Philip’s home in Gresham and return to OHSU almost daily at first, then a couple of times a week for blood tests and doctor appointments and other fun stuff.

Now I’m home in Bend and doing well! I had all my external connectors (the central venous catheter for lab draw out and medicine and treatment in) removed on Monday, March 7, and came home to Bend on Tuesday March 8. I’m not very strong yet, and some days are definitely better than others, but it’s progress! I reconnected with my local oncologist on Friday and we’ll be exploring what type of maintenance treatment I’ll be doing. But that’s a little way off yet. Right now I’m free of Myeloma Cancer cells and the prognosis is good that I’ll have a substantial period of remission going forward!

We’re thankful to God! We’re thankful to the various teams that have cared for me through the early treatment last year following diagnosis, the preparation for and the process of the transplant, and the excellent follow-up care! In fact we’re just pretty much thankful for everything and for everyone who has prayed, cared, checked in, supported, and been a part of our process and experience!

One thing that impacted me more than I expected was the loss of my mustache and beard to the chemo drugs. (Not so much the hair that used to be on my head so much as it had begun to desert me some years ago. Fickle!)

But here’s the thing: I started growing my mustache on April 4, 1967, the day I arrived in Vietnam. And I never shaved it off. Ever. And I started growing my beard on June 1, 1980, when we moved to Medford, OR. And I never shaved it off! Ever. Both my mustache and beard went through color changes through the decades, from red-brown to grey to white. But they were always there. I could count on them! (The hairs on our heads are numbered. I could count on them!) The mustache was with me for 55 years! The beard was with me for 42 years!

You and I may have been friends for a long time. Even a long, long time. But unless you knew me before I was 24 years old, in Vietnam in 1967, you never saw me without my mustache. And unless you knew me before I was 37 years old, in 1980, you never saw me without my beard! And now they’re both gone! And I still don’t recognize the face of the old man elderly gentleman who stares back at me from the mirror!

And people say, “It’ll grow back!” You don’t know that for sure! Maybe it will and maybe it won’t.

Anyhow, this is not a Dark Valley issue. I’m alive and I’m getting better and I’ve got a lot to learn about post-transplant living. Pre-transplant, I still had an immune system that remembered my measles vaccine, my smallpox and diphtheria vaccines, in fact all the vaccines I’ve had since the polio vaccine in 1954 when I was 11. But post-transplant, my new immune system doesn’t remember any of that so I get to start all over daily living carefully in a world full of germs, mold, and dust. Then beginning in about three months to a year I’ll start re-immunizing with COVID vaccine and then all the others. And my new immune system has to learn to deal with Jake the Desert Bone Dog and leaf mold and Bleu Cheese dressing and flu germs and the common cold. So I’ll not be joining the ranks of the Maskless Oregonians for a while at least.

I’m not sure what my blog schedule will be for the next few weeks. I know it’ll be a while before I’m up to doing a weekly blog along with daily GraceNotes devotionals. I guess I’ll send you what I’ve got when I’ve got it and we’ll see how it goes!

Grace and Peace, Jim

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.

I’m writing to you from “The Other Side”! On January 20, I had my final appointment with my local oncologist, Dr. Todd Clover prior to the transplant. After conversation and questions, as I prepared to leave the consult room, we shook hands and he said, “I’ll see you on the other side.” When he said it, it really struck a chord with me. The Other Side!

The stem cell transplant was done on Wednesday, February 2, 2022 and I’m writing this on the afternoon of Monday, February 21. Today is day +19 since the transplant and a lot has happened since then.

I was released from Hospital on February 14 to stay at Stephanie and Philip’s home in Gresham, OR. This keeps me within 20 miles of OHSU Hospital for access to on-going outpatient treatment for another couple of weeks or so, or for emergency treatment should the need arise. I go to the cancer clinic for labs to check on my new blood progress, to consult with the doctor, and to have the dressing on my central line changed.

I’m eagerly longing to be released to go home to Bend, but I know I’m not ready yet. I did manage a half-mile walk each of the past three days, but I’m well aware of my new limitations and that it will take some time to rebuild. So we’ll trust the numbers and the medical team that does this all the time and we’ll be grateful to go home when the time is right. I’ll send you a very joyous update when we get there!

There are a couple of things I’ve been thinking about and processing during the past few weeks that I’d like to share with you. I won’t take long with this, because I’m still working on it myself.

The Dark Valley

Psalm 23:4 “Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.” There’s definitely been some dark valley places between here and where we’ve come from since starting the SCT process in 2021. My shepherd knows the way through those dark places and is not merely sending me through them, but will walk with me all the way through to the other side!

My treatment plan had been working so well, and with reasonably light side effects and I had actually reached a point of remission. I stopped all my regular treatment drugs a couple of weeks before the transplant and as the effects wore off, I felt better than I had since I started treatment last April. I was tempted to think, “What if I just don’t do the SCT and see how long this remission will last?”

And then I had the transplant and as the chemo did its dirty work, within the next few days, I felt worse than I had since I can remember. But in the Dark Valley days I was so thankful!

I was so thankful for the Doctors and nurses who said, “Don’t be discouraged. Here’s what’s happening in your bone marrow and blood, you’re right on track. In the next few days, as these numbers come up, you’ll start feeling better and stronger.”

And I was so thankful for friends who emailed and texted me that God was with me in the Dark Valley, that God’s unfailing love surrounded me, and that I would be out of the Dark Valley and into the sunny green pastures soon.

I was thankful for the many friends and GraceNotes and Blog readers who didn’t send a note to me, but sent a prayer to God

And I’ve been most thankful for Jean, who sat by my bed every day in 14K. Jean is my caregiver through this process. OHSU only does the transplant if the patient has a dedicated 24/7 caregiver. Jean has been by my side during the darkest part of my dark valley, managing my meds, helping me dress, helping me in and out of bed (You know, just like always!)

Life Lesson: The Good Shepherd will be with you through the Dark Valley, and the Good Shepherd has some helpers that will speak life, truth, and encouragement to you. Listen to them and let them help.

The Other Side

I remember an old kids’ song, “The Bear went over the Mountain.” Apparently, the bear went over the mountain to see what he could see. When he got over the mountain, this is what he saw “The other side of the mountain is all that he could see.” I know, humor me, okay?

I’m on the other side! The transplant is working! That’s great, its fears have been overcome, its objective is being achieved, it’s a plan that so far is working well. But it’s not really a destination or a stopping place. My immune system still isn’t as strong as it was before the transplant. Even with all the months of immune destroying cancer treatment, I still had more defenses then than I have right now.

The thing I have now that I didn’t have then is cancer-free bone marrow and some intrepid little stem cells that are working day and night to multiply the cells I need in my bone marrow and blood to rebuild immunity. They’ll learn to recognize the bad stuff that comes along. They’ll be strong enough in a few months that I can begin to get the vaccinations against shingles, pneumonia, measles, COVID, all these enemies.

There are times when God gives us a powerful breakthrough, but the breakthrough isn’t a destination. It’s not a stopping place, it’s a platform from which to move further forward in our faith journey. And there will be obstacles to overcome, battles to be fought, disciplines to put in place.

I’m physically more at risk of illness and infection right now than I was 3 weeks ago, before the transplant. But I’m positioned to get better and healthier than I’ve been since the cancer diagnosis last March. I’ve got some new anti-infection restrictions to learn about and heed, and some strength restoring exercise to do, and some patience to develop (I thought I already had that!).

I’ve got my little intrepid Stem Cells working away down there in my bone marrow. I’ve got the medical team monitoring my progress and setting some boundaries and restrictions. I’ve got my friends and family praying, caring, and helping in so many ways. And I’m surrounded by the unfailing steadfast love of my Father.

• Dark Valley? You’re not alone!
• The Other Side? No magic, just a new platform from which to live your faith.

As always, I’d love to hear from you and I welcome your comments and questions. If you’re reading on the blog, leave a comment below. If you’re reading from the email, click “Reply” and tell me what you’re thinking.