Gracefully Frank

Apparently if you try to go through airport security crying your eyes out, you will be considered a person of interest to the homeland security guards on duty. The Lord supernaturally empowered me with the strength to walk away from mom and dad at the Little Rock National Airport Sunday evening. It's not that I believe I have to be there for things to be ok...it's more like climbing up out of the trench and waving goodbye, when you would rather be in the trench with them fighting with them, next to them. But, I climbed up. I think the man who checked my baggage and had to tell me more than twice where to take it probably walkie-talkied ahead that I was on my way. As I walked closer to the check point a guard motioned to me and said “Miss, could you step over here.” You’ve been randomly chosen for further screening.” Randomly huh? I was still crying. She asked if I had the “sniffles.” I said “no, I’m crying.” She asked for my ID which was stuck in my wallet refusing to slide out of its little plastic slot. After a few minutes of watching me try to get it out embarrassed and apologizing…one of the three guards surrounding me took my wallet to try and get it out himself. No luck. So they emptied my wallet which included Ethiopian currency that seemed to confuse them. Looking more suspicious by the minute, “You been to Ethiopia lately?” one of them asked. “Yes," I answered still crying. Then I was informed they would be doing a residue test with swabs on my hands. I was hoping I did not inadvertently have bomb making residue on my hands. What household ingredients can make a bomb? Had I been into any of that this morning? It probably didn’t help that I still had my sunglasses on to try and hide a little bit that I was crying. Between the aviators, the crying, the foreign currency…I figured I was about one outburst away from a night in a Little Rock prison. (Hold steady Haley. Dry it up, or they might give me something to cry about.) I had no residue though and turns out neither crying nor wearing sunglasses indoors is against the law so they let me go on my own recognizance. Next stop…take off my shoes, and getting stopped by the guard who would thoroughly dig through both of my carry-on bags. She handled everything then pulled my toothpaste out, shot me a look, and told me to throw it away. I guess this might be a good time to admit to my roommate that I’ve been using her toothpaste these past few days. Thanks Jackie.

I finally made it passed all check points; called my brother; called my Riann. They settled me down. I decided it was unfair for the person stuck next to me on the plane to have their day affected by some weird lady with sunglasses on crying next to them in a confined space. Let’s call him Joe… a father of 3, grandpa of 2, brother of 1 sister whom he helped move to Arkansas on Saturday, and husband to 1 good woman who is a bible-study leader and brings him special breakfast on Friday mornings. Joe never suspected a thing behind my sunglasses. Though it is kind of weird that he didn’t think it was kind of weird that I was wearing sunglasses in the plane. Thankfully, I liked listening to Joe talk, and Joe enjoyed talking. He persevered passed my face being turned toward my book until I finally just closed my book and turned toward him. Joe wishes his youngest daughter would kind of get her life together, but his older two kids are doing pretty well. He gets to work on time every morning. That’s just how he was raised. He doesn’t understand young people today. He could not believe he forgot to take his fishing pole to Arkansas, and slept better last night than he has in months because of the cool Little Rock temperature. It was raining as we were entering our final dissent into DFW. Joe pointed out the view behind me out my window seat 24A. Here is what I saw...























Majesty.

Two Lady Birds picked me up from the airport. Then I drove back to Carrollton in pouring rain, left my luggage in the car and went to bed. Right now is a time when there is only one set of footprints in the sand.

Mom and Dad will be in Little Rock for at least a month. Dad is wearing a neck brace 24/7 due to potential instability in his neck near his spinal cord. They will meet with the neurosurgeon tomorrow to discuss what needs to be done there. Then they will meet with Dr. Waheed on Thursday and hopefully get started on chemo.

Thank you still for your prayers. It seems like a book of stamps is harder and harder to come by lately…but if you might feel so inclined to send them a card or note while they are away from home those are always welcome. It is amazing how that gesture, even from people they don’t know, can be such an encouraging reminder that they are being prayed for and not alone through this.


Towne Place Suites Little Rock
Attn: Tim and Glenda Scully, Rm 302
12 Crossings Ct
Little Rock, AR 72205

Yesterday wasn't a very enjoyable day. We were anxious, tired and a little overwhelmed. But, today in Little Rock things just seem to be better. Grace. I'm sitting cross legged and sideways in a booth next to my mom. She has her little reading glasses on and every once a while mouths the words she is reading from a book called A Bend In The Road by David Jeremiah detailing his battle with cancer. She is pretty amazing. She has not been telling me how to drive at all. Her mind is elsewhere and I think she is just trusting me with the wheel. I find it strangely unsettling that she's not directing my driving, like the time she told me to take my keys out of the ignition before I got out of the car (she thinks out loud). Be careful what you wish for friends. I'm pausing from writing right now because she wants to read me something from that book that is making her cry good tears...she can read me whatever she wants, whenever she wants.

We are sitting in a lovely section of the cancer institute called The Gathering Place. The Starbucks and gift shop located here closed about an hour ago and the majority of lights have been dimmed. A little old man whom I passed several times walking around yesterday in a Dr.'s coat is now dressed in plain clothes and playing the Steinway Grand piano across the aisle from where we sit. He may have escaped from the psych ward, but he's cute and I like the song he's playing... It's just me, mom and him in here right now. My Dad is behind some big doors where some young person in scrubs walked him away from us to have a series of MRIs done. Do they even realize who they were getting to walk beside? He's got on a new shirt and new slacks a couple of sizes smaller than normal. He's wearing dress shoes. Daddy has always been a sharp dresser. I took a picture of him and sent it to Chris so he could see how our Dad dressed his best even when he feels his worst. Chris texted back "Chemo can't take your cool." Daddy is cool. He has his hot buttons like everyone else, but he doesn't get too ruffled about things, at least not that anyone but mom would ever get to see. He's totally relying on the Lord, that is where he draws his strength. Every morning he reads a devotion to us and we pray together. He is a quiet testimony to a life anchored in faith, head up, taking care of business.






Tomorrow morning we will find out the results from the tests he has been through this week. They do gene mapping here at UAMS, and can determine if dad is a high risk or low risk multiple myeloma patient. I will not pretend to understand how that works. However, those results will aid in developing his treatment plan and will help the doctors determine if they should start chemo immediately, or allow mom and dad to return home and come back soon to begin treatment. Dad has gone two weeks now without chemotherapy to combat the cancer in his body. We want him to start receiving the healing medicine sooner rather than later. We spent part of yesterday and today finding a long term stay option for them, and this morning found a great place that both of them are happy with. Mom said she is not just pleased, she is thrilled. Me too then.

So tomorrow we will check out of our hotel, meet with Dr. Waheed and then either head toward Ponca City, or out to Town Place Suites where breakfast is included everyday, the beds are very comfortable, we like how it is decorated and there is no funny smell. For those of you who know my momma, you know that smells are important considerations. If you have to be away from home, and you have to be recovering from intense chemotherapy, or you have to help your spouse through that...its a great place. If chemo is to begin right away, and mom and dad do stay here in Little Rock, that will mean I will book a flight to Dallas for Sunday. I need that flight to still be open by the time I'm able to book it tomorrow. I've got a Lady Bird lined up to pick me up at DFW and take me to my car that is hopefully still sitting at the train station in downtown Fort Worth. Somehow I will get on the plane and leave my parents here to fight cancer. Thankfully, they are fighters. Thankfully they have a God who loves them more than me and makes a way for them. It is my faith in God's Presence and work in their lives that helps me to fly away from them...but that doesn't mean I won't ugly cry again. Pretty sure I will.

Please keep Dad and Mom in your prayers. God knows their names, but in case you don't...his name is Tim and her name is Glenda.

I am on a train, sitting still, moving at a high rate of speed. I have pulled out my pink 1st generation ipod mini and am currently listening to my favorite mix of Pride and Prejudice soundtrack, Yo Yo Ma, and Zoe Keating. I like this sound to track the setting sun and Texas/Oklahoma pasture land show that is passing by my window. As this train rolls down the tracks that have been here for years and years we pass horses and cows, small towns, farm houses. I wonder who lives there. Did they laugh today? Did they cry today? Are they sitting in their favorite chair? Do they have hope? Are they bored? I'm pretty sure they like John Wayne, biscuits and gravy, and Friday night football. Most of the curtains on the train are drawn except for mine. The sun is beaming in and the lady on the other side of the aisle has kind of caught my eye a couple of times as if to ask if I'm going to pull the curtains next to me that would save her eyes. I'm not though. So I'm not going to turn my head toward her again. I like this golden moment. Besides the two borderline elderly, borderline inebriated couples that sit directly in front of me ("I don't know if I should have another drink Jer, I've had two today." I got this Jer...you've had enough Nancy. Why don't you just rest your eyes.) I like this golden moment. Beautiful music. Beautiful sunset. On my way home.































I have seen some beautiful places this year. Places I never dreamed I would go. In Israel I prayed in the garden of Gethsemane. I walked along the shore where Jesus told Peter to feed His sheep. I stood in Nazareth. As in Jesus of Nazareth. There is a Kentucky Fried Chicken there now. I stood on the temple grounds where Christ will come back. That's hard to fathom, but I can. Within a few months of being there I held laughing orphaned children in my arms in Africa. I felt the rain that falls everyday in Ethiopia during their rainy season to water the land farms aren't equipped to water. Their reliance on God is great in a land not of plenty, and our God provides. I met and walked with beautiful people living lives of humility with an abundance of grace. More than I can express beautiful. My thoughts continually go back to these places, even as I recommit my focus to my calling in Texas. These passed few weeks I've spent a lot of time surrendering all over again to the Lord. Even kind of struggling through processing what all has happened this year, the drama and trauma of it all, and trying to figure out what God is doing in all of this and what I need to be doing. Where would I not go? Who would I not trust Him with? What would I not allow Him to comfort me in? What would I not praise Him through? Nowhere. No one. Nothing. But He has put my heart and mind at rest (finally), showing me that for now, I do what I know for sure He called me to do, and what I love doing each day with people I am grateful to serve with. So, my head is back in the game, and I am peacefully settled waiting on God to call plays. "Who is the man who fears the Lord? He will instruct him in the way he should choose." Psalm 25:12 "In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." Proverbs 3:6

As she sat on the train she wrote about her life; where the year had taken her, where the train was taking her, and where the road ahead would take her...

The sun is totally set now. It's black outside except for when we roll into a little town, or pass a refinery that I like to pretend is a far off big city. We also make quick stops at the little train stations between Fort Worth and Oklahoma City. At night especially they look like a movie scene where Bogart leans against the wall, brim down, smoking a cigarette looking suspisiously at a dame.











I'm going home this weekend to travel with Mom and Dad to Little Rock, AR. We are going to the University of Arkansas Medical Services hospital. The UAMS Myeloma Institute for Research and Therapy is located there. Sam Walton had multiple myeloma and helped found the hospital over 20 years ago. They like to use the word "cure," and we like that word. http://myeloma.uams.edu. Dad's Dr. in OKC was encouraging when mom and dad mentioned they would like to move his treatment to UAMS. Dad's cancer is not in remission yet, and although we have seen great improvements in his pain level and strength, his cancer level has not dropped since July 22nd. Since dad is stronger now, and Little Rock is only thisfar on a big map. We are loading up and moving out. It will be like starting over. He will have all of the tests to confirm diagnosis he first had in OKC. They want all of their own results to operate from. So beginning Tuesday morning he will start the tests again. He will not be hospitalized this time though, since he is not in the pain he was in before. We will come and go from the hospital for his appointments Tuesday through Thursday. Then on Friday morning at 11:00 we will meet with Dr. Sarah Waheed to discuss the stage of his diagnosis, and their suggested protocol. We know already they are breaking away from the standard protocol that is being done at all other hospitals treating multiple myeloma. Since UAMS is a research hospital they set the new standards. It is possible dad will ultimately have two bone marrow transplants. We'll do whatever. I know that is easy for me to say. I guess I mean we will be beside him through whatever as God opens doors and opportunities for treatments and healing. We will appreciate your prayers as we spend the week in Arkansas. Pray for Dad's comfort as we travel. It is about a 5 1/2 hour drive from Ponca. Pray for clear direction for the Dr's. as they plan a protocol for his treatment. Pray we enjoy our time together and maybe have a few golden moments. And especially pray momma is able to fight the urge to constantly tell me how to drive. Oh my word pray she fight the urge to tell me how to drive. But when she does, that I be patient.

Note to self: bring a blanket for the train next time, give thanks for time to sit still while moving at a high rate of speed, give thanks for music that drowns out Jer and Nancy, Robert and Deb. Give thanks for my brother who waits for me at the station. Give thanks for each golden moment passed, and yet to come.