More Than a Conqueror

"But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us."

Romans 8:37

This verse holds the key to unlocking victory when life goes from smooth sailing to stormy seas, when your vow to love "in sickness and in health" becomes an active deed rather than a theoretical promise, when circumstances are stacked against you, when the doctor says "it's cancer."

Just six weeks ago, as I awoke from surgery that began as a diagnostic and became a therapeutic operation, those words were spoken to me. Just shy of my twenty-sixth birthday I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. This disease afflicts young men between the ages of 15-35. Thankfully, the five-year survival rate is now above 90%; a truly miraculous feat considering that 20 years ago its mortality rate was roughly just as high.

Waking up from my first surgery with one less body part (one that most men particularly treasure along with its twin) was simultaneously disturbing and comforting. Disturbing because I am naturally independent and active, and more so because I have a beautiful wife and two incredible sons that I've been entrusted to care for. How would this affect my ability to pay the bills, to hug and play with my children, to care for and enjoy the pleasures of my wife and of marriage? Would this mean that the Lord was saying no to my plans to pursue my Master's degree? Was I going to have to wait to pursue my dreams of serving others through politics and moving into a career I was more passionate about? How would Elizabeth be able to care for a sick husband and two toddlers who would need her all the more as they saw their daddy dealing with illness?

"With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible" (Matthew 19:26). While Jesus spoke this about rich people getting into Heaven even though it was harder than a camel going through the eye of a needle, this statement is a promise that applies to a multitude of challenges. Combined with the comfort of Philippians 4:6-7 which says "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus," Elizabeth and I found ourselves filled with peace and confidence so that we could be more than conquerors over our fears and challenges.

Shortly after receiving the news that my particular type of cancer, embryonal carcinoma, which is an aggressive form of the disease, had spread to at least one lymph node and that I would probably require at least one more surgery in addition to chemo therapy, I also received a letter by air mail from the University of St. Andrews (www.st-andrews.ac.uk). Despite having a temperature of 103, my heart skipped a beat when I saw where it was from and felt almost as nervous as a groom waiting at the altar. It seemed awfully thin for an acceptance letter, but I had resigned myself to the likelihood that I would not be accepted due to the fact that I had only finished my application a month prior and because of all of my health issues. Elizabeth would want to share the moment of opening the letter with me regardless of what it said, so I drove from the mailbox and found her getting a late shower while the boys were miraculously napping at the same time.

"Hey sweet heart," I said, "it's been a long day. I feel so sick. There's something I want to show you though." Holding the letter for her to see she anxiously asked, "Have you opened it yet? What does it say? What do you think it is?" Not being sure, I shrugged and shared my opinion about what its thickness meant. Neither of us could wait another second, so I tore into the envelope and pulled out the letter. Just below the school crest I read the following greeting:

"Dear Mr. Kleidosty:

We are delighted to inform you..."

No further reading was needed to know what this letter was. I had been accepted into the M.Litt program for International Political Thought at the third-oldest university in the English-speaking world! Prince William just graduated with his Bachelor's from this same department. I was invited to study at an institution that pre-dates the United States by 366 years! I could hardly breathe. I collapsed on my bed and prayed to the Lord again and again in tearful gratitude. "How could this be possible? I don't deserve it. Thank you. Thank you."

In the midst of this great trial we had been given a great and glorious gift. Not only hope, but a reassurance that there was indeed a plan for my future (Jeremiah 29) and that this plan was good. Encouragement that even though life had been demanding and I'd been forced to wait tables, go through unemployment, and watch my family struggle to survive financially, I hadn't lost the gifts and calling the Lord had placed upon me. They were in fact irrevocable, just as His Word says (Romans 11:29). Gone were thoughts of survival and getting through. Now my mind was fixed upon this new task and opportunity. Cancer became an obstacle to overcome, not a condition to survive. Mentally, I instantaneously moved from surviving to thriving. Hope unexpectedly reborn is even sweeter than when a dream is first birthed.

While my joy could scarcely contain itself, the reaction from friends and family was mixed. There was naturally a great deal of pride, some "way to go's," some words of congratulations, and even some tears of joy. These were often followed by questions. "Do you think you'll still be able to go or will you see if you can wait a year? How will you be able to afford it? How will you earn money while you're there? Do you honestly think you can work at your business, fight cancer and the side-effects of chemo, move to a temporary home for the summer, raise funds for tuition, travel, and a year of living expenses, and move to Scotland all in three months? Isn't this too much stress given your condition? Won't this be too hard on your family? ARE YOU SURE GOD IS TELLING YOU TO DO THIS? HOW CAN YOU BE SURE?"

The way I see it, the only way to be able to answer these questions was to seek the Lord in prayer for confirmation of His will. Again Elizabeth and I felt strongly that the Lord was going to make this happen and that by September we and our boys would be calling Scotland home. Again I felt the Spirit impressing upon my heart the reassurance that "With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."

For further confirmation, we had been praying for a place to live near the school if this was indeed God's will. Shortly thereafter, I received an email informing me that the school had just one three-bedroom home available, and that they were making it available to US! As we will have no car in Scotland we were praying specifically for a three-bedroom home within walking-distance to the school, close to public transportation, in a nice neighborhood with a yard for our kids to play in. Knowing the Lord, it should be no surprise then that this house is in a quiet residential family neighborhood (not a party-animal dorm/campus setting), only a 25 minute walk from the main campus right on the bus line and near a variety of shops and parks.

In my first week back at the office full-time after the conclusion of the school year, business began to pick up with new contracts from NASA, Marriott, and other significant clients. We found out we'd be able to cut our expenses slightly and stress level greatly for the summer due to the generosity of the Hubbard House which provides a hotel suite style room for a very reasonable charge with three free meals a day, no utility bills, and best of all a 5-minute walk to the MD Anderson Cancer Center rather than the hour+ drive we often deal with now. If I get sick and require hospitalization, Elizabeth and the boys will be right there to walk over and visit. If I have a rough day or if my family has a rough day, we can enjoy a healthy home-cooked meal and not worry about the planning and preparation normally involved in nourishing a family. They have almost every facility and convenience we and our kids could want and an incredibly supportive environment on top of it all.

Needless to say, God is good. The future looks good too, despite the painful and difficult experiences it holds. I say this not to be discouraging, but to be real. Since this past Friday (June 10), I have been hospitalized for a retroperitoneal lymph node dissection. This is the other operation I mentioned earlier. This has been one of the most difficult things I have ever experienced and it is truly by the grace of God I am even up in the visitor's room right now typing this blog entry.

I will continue with details of my experiences this past week. For now I am nearing total exhaustion and know I need to call it a night.
Please keep us in your prayers as I recover and as Elizabeth takes on several responsibilities that I cannot currently handle. Please remember to lift up our boys as well. They have been missing me terribly and have even woken up crying for me at night.

I'll be letting you know in more detail how you can support us both in prayer and in other ways in my next update. For now, please know how phenomenally grateful we are for the cards, calls, emails, financial help, baby-sitting, wise counsel, and overwhelming love. I still haven't shed one tear for cancer, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I've shed several for your faithfulness and generosity that so accurately reflect the image of our Risen King.

Love, blessings, and peace be with you all!

Jeremy

Elizabeth, Gabriel, and Noah too!! :-)