Christmas Letter

O come let us adore Him

It was about a year ago, Galen and I were in a time of transition. Ever since we had dated all the way back in high school we had always shared a desire to foster and/or mentor young kids.  We found ourselves at a crossroads last year and a real stirring in our spirits that it was time to start asking the questions and pursuing what we felt God was laying on our hearts to do.  Our church held a foster/adoption fair and so we learned a lot and asked many questions.  We even got the name of an agency and set up a time to meet.  From that point on, we communicated frequently, asked the hard questions, met with other families that had adopted and just really tried to seek what God was calling us to do.  We have always liked the idea of fostering and/adoption because it was a ministry our family could do together.  It would require all of us to be on board, to be in prayer, to give grace and to love this other person.  But when we looked at what it would mean to foster a baby, it just didn’t seem to fit our family’s strengths and present situation.  It was like we were trying to make a puzzle piece fit that wasn’t the right match.

That dream quickly got put on hold when last fall, at the same time we were trying to foster, we were told by Galen’s wonderful oncologist that there were problems with his cancer tests.  Simply put, after years on this medicine, the levels of cancer present in his blood hadn’t come down past .1.  It baffled us both when we were told just how “serious” this situation was; Galen was feeling fine, nothing seemed to change, but we had been looked squarely in the eyes and truthfully told for “Galen’s long-term chance of survival, we need to make some big changes.”  That’s a pretty hard phrase to reconcile I am sure at any time, but especially as I looked at my 32-year-old husband.  We felt sucker punched and like he had been diagnosed yet again.  It was at that point we had to hold off on us pursuing any thoughts of adopting or fostering.  It was just a few weeks later that we would find out we were expecting our fourth baby and Galen’s numbers started to show signs of a resistance to his medication. It felt like our joyful news was yet again tempered by the reality of his impending mortality.   

During this time, God really called Galen out and they wrestled about his faith and the reality that Galen’s cancer was really real with actual consequences. And Galen felt the weight of that despairing news.  The months crept on, we traveled to appointments, sought second opinions, cried bunches and prayed like crazy.  We finally felt the burden of when in early May he had test results coming back that were incredibly discouraging, disheartening and the kind that left you off balance and very confused.

But God met us every step of the way.  He didn’t spare us from the stormy season, but faithfully walked us through it. 

Again.

And it was in the following months that God began to make it clear he was going to use this time of trial for something else and for His glory.

While life was still very stormy for us, we had decided to open up our home to my younger brother who was finishing up college so that our home could be a place of transition.  We had him sign a contract with the understanding we wanted him to be the best “mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally, academically and financially.”  

  We gave him a list of what we expected and a list of what he could expect from us.  And over the next four months, we all did life together.  We lovingly challenged him and I saw Galen really speak into his life as a man to encourage him, but had come about because of his wrestling with his cancer diagnosis.  Never have I been prouder of my husband as I saw him pray with passion, fervor, and boldness FOR and WITH my brother.  I saw a genuineness in my husband that had really just been worked out months prior.  It’s as if we needed that lesson to be able to go through this time

.

Our kids embraced my brother and extended the unconditional love only children can have towards others.  It was by far one of the hardest tasks our family has ever done, but it was also so wonderfully fulfilling.  God always met us where Galen and I came up short, which was almost every day. My brother decided to give his life over to Lord and really began speaking into his life. But I’ll let my brother tell you what God taught Him, however, no doubt God taught Galen and I the importance of depending on Him and realizing that it is God who changes hearts, we only have to be willing, praying ambassadors. My brother has since moved to Arizona in search of his own adventure and we are so proud and happy for him, but we sure miss him!

It was towards the end of the summer we got Galen’s latest test results back and it was that his numbers were coming back into normal range and then two weeks later we welcomed our fourth child and third son, Abram Jude into our family 5 weeks early.

What a summer and what a year filled with every emotion.  It felt like the year had come full circle for our family.

So why do I share such a personal letter with you all?  Because a year ago, we didn’t see what God was doing, but 365 days later, we believe we saw God fulfilling our hearts desire to mentor and find a ministry we could do as a family.  This dream didn’t get satisfied the way we imagined it by inviting my brother to stay with us; but that’s the thing about God – given dreams, we have to be open to those visions being contented other ways and trust the Lord as He leads. In the end, it is what is most satisfying for us, even though refining, and what brings God the most glory.

We saw Him bring us through despair of Galen’s cancer, AGAIN, and remind us we have an eternal hope that we can lean on when times get hard.   Every doctor’s appointment over the previous year with Galen was a chance for me to be reminded through tears that this life on earth isn’t the best we have to experience.  And when I dwell on that, all I can say is “praise the Lord!!!”  But in fact, we do have the hope of heaven yet to come.  A place of no tears, suffering, disappointment and hurts.  He has used this reality to guide us in our relationships. This Christmas letter couldn’t contain all the ways He was so intimately wrapped in the details while navigating through the bigger parts of our lives as well. So, while it was quite the year, and by far one of our hardest in twelve years of marriage, I wouldn’t rewrite one day of it.

And so, as this year and even this chapter comes to a close, I tuck these last 365 days in the back of my pocket for the next time we find ourselves at a crossroads knowing full well God really can and will navigate us through any season as He always has been true to do before. And I find myself quiet, still and full of thanks as I look towards the season in which I can celebrate the birth of hope. We pray wherever you find yourself in this Christmas season, that maybe this letter would encourage you to trust the hope of Christ Jesus.

With love,

Galen, Kelli, Benaiah, Boaz, Keziah + Abram Rasler

 At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another.  But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.  Titus 3:3-7

P.S.  For those of you used to a more traditional letter, here are some quick updates on our family:

Benaiah is 6 ½ years old and loving 1^st grade at Jefferson.  He tried football this year and can’t wait be active in it again.  He is an outstanding big brother and loves all things Super Mario Brothers. Boaz is 4 ½ years old and enjoying preschool.  He is looking forward to kindergarten next year, although, at this present time isn’t willing to admit it. He loves doing whatever Benaiah is doing, but is especially enjoys building just like his daddy.  Keziah is our spunky newly turned 3-year-old.  Currently, she is enjoying activities like ballet and role playing at home as Belle from Beauty and the Beast.  She isn’t your usual damsel in distress, as she is happy to get her brothers toy guns to go take care of the stinky wolves (Benaiah + Boaz) when the Beast (daddy) isn’t around to save her. Abram, our 3 ½ month old gift is doing well since his two week stay in the NICU after coming 5 weeks prematurely.  He is filling out well, gaining that double chin and chubby thighs and starting to really look like he fits in our family!

Misplaced hope

After three months of bad reports, she sat anxiously, even excitedly assured of a positive outcome. Her carpenter husband’s chronic cancer had given them a wake-up call and a constant dose of bitter mortality over the past 90 days. Recently having been told by their oncologist that in order “for him to survive the long term, Galen’s numbers had to be under .1”. It seemed shocking that little numbers made a big difference, but in his case every one hundredth of a number meant everything. That was a number in which he had never reached. The news prompted them to gather more opinions from experts that were no doubt a gift from God and to examine the possibility of different treatments. And now in the present, the treatment had been covered and the carpenter was responding so positively with the fewest of side effects.

Or so the couple thought.

The nurse kindly left the lab reports after having sharing some laughter and small talk about life. She shut the door on her way out and the wife of the carpenter, casually turned to page 3 quickly to look at her husband’s latest numbers. This was routine as she knew right where to look and the chart had the information so nicely organized that she could compare numbers from previous tests.

It was strange really that her heart didn’t drop and her eyes didn’t sting with pain, but instead her mouth uttered, “what?” loudly as a cloud of confusion began to descend upon her. Her husband, too, shared in the disbelief, the numbers must have been forged because how else could a person explain that his lab reports said his cancer had increased by at least 10x even after he had already started a new treatment?

The doctor soon came in and they began addressing the problem. He quickly stated how one test shouldn’t alarm the couple, or determine an immediate response, but he, too, was perplexed and insisted her husband get another test in 4 weeks instead of the regular 12. “We will go from there” he said assuredly. She looked at the doctor and thanked him for his care and begin to weep as the confusion gave way to fear. The doctor kindly looked at her and said, ‘it will be okay. He will be okay.’
But those words didn’t really stick with her or anchor her soul because what did he know? While he was a caring, attentive oncologist, he was only human and he didn’t know what only God could. She and the carpenter left feeling burdened, disheartened, confused and perplexed. This appointment, yet again, was not what they were expecting to hear. In her mind, she had to again be the bearer of bad news to those who cared to know. And she was tired. So weary and felt for the first time in nearly four years like she was finally too much. She was a burden.

Over the next week, the wife of the carpenter would struggle to do daily tasks, she would wrestle against a winter that she was so far from over and also the cancer in which her husband battled. The days were long and filled with gloomy clouds, the kind that hang so low, a person could feel their weight suppress his soul. She spent many days crying as she shared with those closest to her about the news feeling the weightiness of the what if’s. Her problem was what good did she have to share or good news to give anyone after this appointment?

The next day as she was driving her tribe home after picking up the oldest, strictly in the mind of going through the motions, the sun had broken through the gloomy skies and had brightened the day. The snow wasn’t gray, but white, and crisp and even sparkled. Shades of a bright blue were abundant. Father Winter mercifully relented if even for just a tiny while and the mother of these three candidly remarked, “you guys, what a beautiful day it is”. And back behind her seat, her littlest love, with pigtails and a winter boot that had fallen off, said without prompting, “thank you God!”

For some reason it was at that moment, the wife of the carpenter realized she had misplaced her hope. It was possible to find something to be thankful for in the midst of hardship. Her hope was never supposed to be in doctor’s appointments, or numbers and she is never actually supposed to be the source of hope for other people. In fact, as she reflected, she knew the appointment, while it may not have gone her way, was still a part of God’s sovereign plan.

And it wasn’t thwarted that day.

She made the mistake of thinking this walk with cancer was a destination and not a journey. That this appointment and good numbers would be the source of her hope when it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. If it were, it wouldn’t sustain her heart in the long term.

Just as the clouds parted that day, so her confusion and burden began to lift, she felt so deeply assured that God’s ways were truly higher than hers (Isaiah 55:9). She looked back on her lifeand trusted that even though this wasn’t news they didn’t want, God made good on His promises to her in the past and that He would continue to do that. She knew that He would take what was meant for evil and use it for His good and His glory (Genesis 50:20). She knew that she knew her God was capable of taking her tears, her trials, her ashes and exchanging them for a crown of beauty (Isaiah 61:3) and she wasn’t simply just trusting anymore, she had been a first-hand witness for the last 4 years. Tears drew themselves to the corner of her eyes, but she just knew that God would sustain her, no matter what the future looked like. And with that knowledge, peace flooded her soul like sunshine, and that was best news she could’ve gotten.
#raisingchickensandchildren
#cancersucks
#Godisgood
#todayisagift