So I got the news that I have achieved a 3-log reduction in the presence of the Leukemia mutation. Or something like that, but I was never great with Biology. Suffice it to say, this is the goal for treating my kind of Leukemia (CML), and within this threshold the disease is considered well under control. My next step is for the mutation (actually it’s the presence of a protein, or something like that) to be undetectable by the machines that do the detecting. That won’t necessarily mean the mutation is gone, but rather that it is so low that the machine can’t find it (we are on the molecular level at this point).

It’s strange, though, because I still sense that I have a ways to go in terms of dealing with the emotional side of having leukemia. For those of you that know me well, this summer has sucked horribly. I’ve been sick and injured for most of the season, and then I was forced to try a different leukemia drug because the original one was no longer effective. Not to mention that I struggled with the side effects of that original drug.

Now I feel better than ever, and I actually have more energy now than I know what to do with. But this morning, a friend of mine mentioned in passing that he had had some blood work done and the doctor said he wanted to run another, more specific test. It ended up being nothing (except that my friend needed to lose a little weight), and yet when I heard this story being told, I almost had a small heart attack at the idea of him needing more blood work. I’ve been down that road, and it didn’t go well with me.

It was like a small panic attack induced by PTSD, or something like that. I can be a little dramatic at times.

But it did tell me that I have a ways to go. I still get depressed, and who wouldn’t? After the leukemia, the multiple deaths of loved ones, the car wreck, my cat that died, the million kidney stones, and a few other things, this shouldn’t surprise me.

It all reminds me of how messy life really can be. I get impatient with movies that have nice, black and white, neatly wrapped endings. How is that anywhere near life-like? Real life has real struggles, real joy, and everything in between – and often at the same time.

I am in remission. That’s incredibly good news, but it isn’t the end of the story, nor is it the beginning of another. My good news simply is. I will carry this damned mutation all my life, and my life will likely be long.

Learning to live in that tension takes serious chutzpah. I pray that God grants me some of his…

I hate that.

I like results. I like hitting a button and getting something in return. I like reading a book and knowing more than I did before I read it. I despise pointless exercises.

But – does that mean I judge something as ‘having a point’ based on what I immediately get out of it? That’s a scary thought, leading me to wonder if I am really more superficial than I’d like to believe.

Now I’m irritated.

It was hilarious, in retrospect, because we all had to be very pious. This meant that our first item was our Bibles, followed by the one item that we really wanted to keep from getting torched. Give me a break. Our Bibles? Unless this is a 200 year old Bible that has been in a family for that long, I somehow doubt that any one of us would have cared at all about the ten-dollar Bible sitting under a pile of dirty laundry.

Of course, by answering such, we all appeared very well behaved and spiritual in front of everyone else. And we perpetuated the stigma that one can only be a part of the group if you were very pious, or at the very least, can fake it really well. We tended toward the latter.

It wasn’t until college that I heard the first accurate response to that question. My friend, Stephen, answered with, “My pants.” After all, we tend to sleep without pants, and if we have to watch the firemen try to save what’s left of our house or protect the houses around us, then it’s probably best to do so with our pants on.

The way I see it, we can’t defeat the Reaper because it has long been defeated. When Jesus was resurrected from the dead, it was not some hyper-spiritual type of resurrection I think I had inherited from an evangelical heritage. If Jesus’ resurrection was physical, which is the thrust of Wright’s book, then so will mine. After all, Baptismal theology says that I will get what Christ got – resurrection from the dead and a glorified body.

All that to say, the reaper is already defeated. Yeah, I’ll die. So will you. But it will be only temporary. I’m not sure I understand why, but that makes it somewhat easier to live a full life, and live it well.

I found myself not particularly enjoying the work, however, and like some profound movie, it stuck with me (and bothered me) for several days. But I could not figure out why. It wasn’t that there were pictures of dead people – Leukemia cured me of any acute fear inherent in death. Nor was it the fact that most of the subjects of the piece died of cancer – I found that kind of amusing because “it’s always cancer.” And no, you aren’t allowed to find that funny unless you have dealt with it – think of it like a club. An exclusive club. Expensive, too – even with insurance.

Anyway, After a few days of mulling it over, I finally came to understand why the exhibit unnerved me to such a degree. The artist sought to celebrate both life and death, especially the latter. I am all for celebrating and cherishing life, but I will never do the same for death.

Things were not supposed to be this way. We weren’t meant to die.

Regardless of how readers of the Biblical Narrative interpret the beginning of Genesis, the anthropology is universal: our own mortality is a profound corruption. Life was given as a gift, death is the curse of our own doing.

Culture seems to be moving in a way that idolizes death, using descriptions like “a sweet release,” “a turning to peace,” and “rest.” There are even religious cliches that move in the same direction: “going to be with the Lord.”

But we weren’t meant to experience this separation from those close to us; they weren’t meant to die, and neither are we. Death is not a natural part of the human life cycle, but rather it is decidedly un-natural. Treating death as anything else robs our ability to mourn, feel the pain inherent in death and separation, AND experience life to the fullest.

Life is all we have right now, and death is an abrupt end. Seek to live a full life. Don’t fear death, but hate it – because it is a curse.

The fact remains: without the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, I would have died sometime in early-2006. So as my wife continues to raise money for the organization (while I cheer from the sidelines), I am trying to get as much support as possible. The link below goes directly to the Team in Training donation site, which has raised many millions to find cures and treatments for blood cancers. There are no gimmicks, and all donations from this point on go DIRECTLY to the LLS.

It doesn’t take a few gigantic donations, but rather the generosity of many – giving even a dollar at a time – to defeat one of the deadliest forms of cancer. I owe my life to this organization, and so do the generations of patients after me.

Please Donate, even if it is a few dollars: http://www.active.com/donate/tntgmo/teamkaty

I do not intend to prove you wrong. But there are other points of view – not particularly antagonistic to science – that are rarely heard.

I don’t think we have to split faith and science dualistically. When splitting like this takes place, the result is immediate polarization, and any attempt at communication breaks down into shaking fingers furiously at one another. Then, all anyone can do is shake harder…or make a fist and shake it, because that’ll show ‘em.

[Science is] a method, a way of finding this knowledge. Observe, hypothesize, predict, observe, revise. (emphasis mine)

Defining science as a method is well put. It amazes me how rarely people understand that concept, and in an ideal situation, anyone trumpeting under the banner of science would first have to submit to this method. Granted, I do not like talking about science totally in this way, merely because “submitting to the method” reminds me of some freaky cult – which isn’t science. Engineering, maybe, but not science.

Baseless insults to engineers aside, there stand at least two huge barriers in the way of finally putting an issue like this to rest. From the way I see things, the first problem is in the fact that both sides’ uppity-ness has little to do with the conclusions made and more so in the assumptions about the other party’s assumptions. (what an obnoxious sentence)

If a person has grown up in a spiritual culture that makes a big deal about the Earth being flat, and then a scientist comes along and points out that it is, indeed, round, that person’s entire life becomes shattered. So when Chuck Darwin started spending too much time looking at finches and comes to some astonishing ideas that result in even more astonishing conclusions, does that force any implications on others in a non-scientific realm?

Maybe – or maybe not – but the immediate knee-jerk by everyone opposing C-Dawg might indicate that they merely assumed an imposed-conclusion about their spirituality. Plus, if those who aren’t scientists feel threatened and want to respond to science-based claims with their own science, do they violate their existential integrity in doing so? I say yes. Scientists can say that humanity descended from purple boogers shot from the nose of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, but to what degree would that effect the notions of spiritual revelation? And if I decide that it does effect my religion, am I still religious by attacking back with more science?

There’s the rub.

The second of the huge barriers I mentioned is the strange polarization that has come to plague our intellectual realm. The one point on which scientists and creationists seem to agree is that we must choose one or the other.

Why?

Why not both/and?

Scientists might say that using both/and violates the methods on which their work rests. Theologians (conservative Christian, typically) often say that without a literal 6-day creation, then systematic theology states that “faith in Jesus” suddenly reduces to vanity.

I think the problem is that I can at least understand what both sides are saying. Spiritually, I have gained more out of life than I would have thought possible (though that is not necessarily the goal), and yet my fingers tap-tap-tap on the keyboard of my MacBook Pro – a pinnacle of science (fan-boyism aside).

Westerners love the comfort of either/or.

Tension that comes from both/and can be unsettling.

But somehow I think that the both/and tension might be the best way to go…

Live. And Live Well.
BREATHE. Breathe in and Breathe deeply. Be PRESENT. Do not be past. Do not be future. Be now.
On a crystal clear, breezy 70 degree day, roll down the windows and FEEL the wind against your skin. Feel the warmth of the sun.
If you run, then allow those first few breaths on a cool Autumn day to FREEZE your lungs and do not just be alarmed, be ALIVE.
Get knee-deep in a novel and LOSE track of time.
If you bike, pedal HARD… and if you crash then crash well.
Feel the SATISFACTION of a job well done—a paper well-written, a project thoroughly completed, a play well-performed.
If you must wipe the snot from your 3-year old’s nose, don’t be disgusted if the Kleenex didn’t catch it all… because soon he’ll be wiping his own.
If you’ve recently experienced loss, then GRIEVE. And Grieve well.
At the table with friends and family, LAUGH. If you’re eating and laughing at the same time, then might as well laugh until you puke. And if you eat, then SMELL. The aromas are not impediments to your day. Steak on the grill, coffee beans freshly ground, cookies in the oven. And TASTE. Taste every ounce of flavor. Taste every ounce of friendship. Taste every ounce of Life. Because-it-is-most-definitely-a-Gift.

–Kyle Lake, RIP.

“No one can understand Virgil’s Georgics unless he has been a farmer
for five years. No one can understand Cicero’s letters unless he has
busied himself in the affairs of a great empire for twenty-five years.
No one can presume to have indulged in Holy Scriptures sufficiently
unless he were in charge of all the churches for one hundred years
with the prophets Elijah and Elisha, John the Baptist, Christ, and the
Apostles. Do not seize hold of this divine aeneid, but adore its
tracks with humility. We are beggars, this is true.”

He wrote it in Latin, except for “we are beggars.” This he wrote in
German, to give it emphasis.