LANCE SNEAKED DOWNSTAIRS EARLY TO WRAP HIS GIFT FOR Kendra and put it under the tree. He’d been filled with excitement all week, simply because it was Christmas . . . and his first Christmas with the love of his life. He’d already gotten his gift—Kendra was cancer-free and doing well on radiation. Granted, it had only been a little over a week, but he was thankful nonetheless that it hadn’t overwhelmed her. She’d had some nausea and fatigue, but in their world that was very manageable. After this morning’s appointment, he was looking forward to soaking in the holiday—cooking and baking, watching Christmas movies, and doing lots of snuggling by the fireplace.
He went back upstairs to see what Kendra wanted for breakfast, but when he walked into the room he found her sitting up in bed, tears streaming down her face.
He ran to her. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t . . . move my neck.” She stared straight ahead. “It hurts really bad when I try to move an inch.”
Lance stared, feeling helpless. “It just came out of the blue?”
“The last few days it’s been hurting. Like muscle soreness. But when I woke up this morning, it stopped me cold.” She tried to shift a little and cried out in pain.
“Let’s take some pain medication,” Lance said.
“I did,” she said. “A half hour ago.”
“Okay,” Lance said. “We’re going to the hospital.”
Lance got Kendra out of bed and helped her dress, praying as she cried out at the slightest movement. Other than the immediate aftermath of surgery, he’d never seen her in this much pain. In the car he called Dr. Contee, who sounded concerned, confirming that Kendra needed to get to the hospital.
Lance parked in the circular drive at emergency and carried her in. Before the woman at the desk could even ask him a question, he blurted out, “My wife’s a cancer patient, on radiation, can’t move her neck, in severe pain . . . please, can someone help her?”
The woman got some additional information. “Be right back, sir.”
“Lance, I’m scared,” Kendra moaned. “It really hurts.” She kept her head stock-still in his arms.
“I know, baby,” he whispered. “I know.”
Her tears, the look of fear, made him desperate to help her himself. Where did the woman go? Someone somewhere in this place could help Kendra. Where were they?
A gurney rolled through the double doors moments later, and Kendra was taken from his arms and positioned on it.
“Can I come with her?” Lance asked. “I’m her husband.”
“We’ll let you know when you can come back, sir,” they said.
Lance moved his car to the garage and then paced the waiting area, asking more than once for an update and for permission to join his wife.
Finally, almost an hour later, a nurse escorted him back to one of the rooms. Kendra was hooked to an IV, her head angled to the side, which she hadn’t been able to do before. Her eyes looked anxious still.
“Is that pain medicine?” Lance asked, pulling up a chair next to her bed.
Kendra nodded. “It’s helping a lot.”
“What’d they say?”
“They gave me a CT scan. Now I have to wait for the results.”
“What do they think caused the pain?”
“They didn’t say,” Kendra said, “but I could tell they were worried.” Tears came again. “It’s not good, Lance. I know it’s not good.”
“Shh . . .” Lance took her hand, heart rate on double time. “One step at a time. Thank God they gave you something effective for the pain.”
“Why did this have to happen on Christmas Eve?” Kendra stared at their hands. “I was excited about having a Christmas where we didn’t have to think about doctors and hospitals and illness. I really wanted that.”
“Me too, baby,” Lance said. “And we may yet have that. Hopefully they’ll send us home, saying, ‘We don’t know what happened, but the scan is clear.’ ”
After several hours, Lance and Kendra walked into the house. Marlon and Trey were in the kitchen cooking, where Lance had planned to be today.
Marlon looked curiously at them. “You two must’ve done some last-minute shopping after radiation. We tried to call, but I guess your phones were off.”
Lance had wanted to call them from the ER, but Kendra wanted to wait until they knew something. Then she didn’t want to talk at all, not even to him.
“I just . . . need to go up,” Kendra said, heading for the stairs.
“We’ll be back,” Lance told them.
He saw their confused faces, but he had to be with Kendra. Lance followed her into the bedroom, where she stood staring at a miniature tree he’d gotten for the dresser. They’d decorated it with miniature ornaments they’d chosen together. Kendra turned on the lights and watched them blink.
Lance sat on the bed several minutes, head in his hand, not knowing what to say. If he had to be honest, he was mad at God. It was Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve. If He wouldn’t give them the miracle—if she wouldn’t be completely healed—couldn’t He at least give them this? He’d prayed so fervently for a Christmas they could enjoy, a Christmas where normal was within reach, like their trip to Pensacola Beach. He wanted Kendra laughing, snapping pictures, enjoying family.
God, why? Why couldn’t You give us that?
Lance looked at Kendra, almost catatonic by the tree. This was one of those difficult days Marlon talked about on their wedding day, when they needed to remember that God is faithful. It was a day Lance needed grace for himself as well as Kendra. Lord, we need You. We desperately need You.
The Christmas gift came to mind, and Lance rose suddenly and went downstairs to get it. When he returned, he handed it to her.
Still in front of the tree, Kendra looked at him. “What’s this?”
“Your Christmas present,” he said. “Go ahead and open it.”
She tore off the colorful Christmas paper and opened the oblong box inside.
“Lance . . .” Tears spilled as if a dam had broken, a new one. Her fingers shook as she lifted a bracelet, reading each charm. “My refuge, my fortress, my God . . .” Her entire body shook now as she entered his arms, sobbing. “It’s so hard to see God that way when I’m dying. All I want is to live with you forever . . .”
Lance wanted to be strong for her, but his tears fell hard too. He needed God to be his refuge and fortress.
“You’re not dying,” Lance said. “It’s a setback, but—”
“Lance, the cancer is spreading, that fast. Two months without chemo, and it’s in my neck again.” She blew out a breath. “I knew it was aggressive. I’ve read where it happened to countless women, just like this. But I hoped.”
Lance clung to her as if he dared anyone to pry him loose. “I hoped too, Ken.” He swiped his face. “I said on our wedding day that I would trust God with all of our days, but I won’t lie. I’m struggling right now. I wanted the miracle. I wanted you to stay cancer-free.”
He held her, trying to make sense of it all, finally leading her to the bed, where they sat on the edge.
“I guess, Ken,” he said, “if God is a refuge, this is when we find out how much of a refuge. This is when we find out the strength of the fortress.” Emotion stuttered his speech. “You know what?” He gently tipped her chin. “Today, we have one another. Today, you’re here in my arms. Today, I can look into your beautiful brown eyes and say, ‘I love you with everything that’s in me.’ ”
Kendra’s watery eyes were fixed on his.
“If I don’t live fully in today”—Lance paused, trying to keep it together—“I’ll go out of my mind.”
Kendra clutched him and held him, then slowly pulled back, holding up her bracelet. “Can you put this on for me?”
Lance wrapped it around her wrist and fastened the clasp.
She read each of the charms again, then looked at him. “Tomorrow is still Christmas.”
He sighed, nodding. “And as God gives us breath, we’ll live fully on that day of all days, celebrating Christ . . . our hope.”