Mouth Sores - February 27, 2012

 

I have been so slow in updating my blog.  My last post perhaps made it sound like I have everything under control.  Let me assure you I do not.  I guess I just don’t feel as overwhelmed about being out of control as I did those first few months.  Anyway, here is an update.

The hospital stay for Derek’s fever ended abruptly two days later when the results of his lab work showed he had RSV, a respiratory virus.  His fever was down by then and they sent us home to recover since there is no medication to cure it.  In all, it delayed his chemo treatments two weeks.  He recovered from the RSV with no further complications.

On Friday, February 17, we went to the clinic for labs to see if his counts were good enough for chemo over the weekend.  His ANC had to be at least 750, and it was 1300, well enough for admission.  We had to wait several hours for a bed to become available.  Again, he had a large bag of Methotrexate flow into him over 24 hours.  It made him a little bit unresponsive and he lost his appetite.  Other than that, he had no major side effects at the time.  His levels came down much more quickly because I was trying to get him to drink lots of extra fluids to clear it from his system quickly.  It worked, a little too well, as I discovered a little too late. 

After getting high dose Methotrexate (MTX) they give him a medication called leucovorin to put folic acid (that had been forced out by the MTX) back in the healthy cells.  This medication has to be given at precise intervals following treatment.  The number of times leucovorin is given is determined by blood tests that show how much MTX is still in his system.  If the MTX stays in at higher levels, it requires additional doses of leucorvorin. They had told us that his level of MTX had to be .1 or less before they could release him the first time, and I assumed that would be the case the second time as well.

By Monday morning his level was down significantly, and when they did rounds and looked at his protocol, they discovered that because his levels had been well below the minimum for the first several checks that he would not need additional leucovorin and that he did not need to reach the .1 level before going home.  So they sent him home with only three leucovorin treatments. We rejoiced that we could go home early.

However, on Wednesday morning, Derek started complaining his throat hurt.  I looked in and didn’t really see anything.  By lunch, he said his mouth hurt at the back on one side.  I look again and saw a huge sore right next to one of his new molars that have just emerged.  By supper he didn’t want to eat anything, even though he was hungry. 

Mouth sores can be a side effect of high-dose MTX. The first time around he had no problems, but I suspect now that because he did not get additional leucovorin, he got a really bad case of them this time. It is just hard to watch my little one in so much pain and not be able to do anything about it.

First thing Thursday morning I called the clinic. Derek would hardly eat or drink anything. He had sores on both sides and at the back as well.  They prescribed a mouthwash using baking soda and salt dissolved in water.  That helped a little, but not much. They also prescribed a mouthwash called Pink Lady that includes a topical anesthetic.  With that I was at least able to keep him better hydrated.  Friday we went to the clinic and they found more sores under his tongue also.  The poor boy had them everywhere.  He was only able to eat soft foods and liquids and only for a short time following rinsing his mouth with Pink Lady.  They said the sores should start going away by today (Monday.) 

Yesterday, his mouth was much improved, and he ate and ate, still mostly soft foods.  Today, he didn’t need any Pink Lady and was eating normally again.  They seem to have disappeared, thankfully.

He is scheduled to go back into the hospital for his next MTX treatment this Friday.  I don’t think I’m going to push the liquids as much as I did last time.  Maybe additional leucovorin will help prevent him getting mouth sores this time.  Even if it means extra time in the hospital, it may be worth it to avoid the pain, hunger, and thirst he experienced this last time.

A New Normal

When we first embarked on this journey, we were operating in crisis mode.  With the help of God, family, friends, and church family, we managed to survive those first months.  If something was not about our immediate survival or the wellbeing or comfort of my children, I did not do it.  Only the most pressing matters were attended to and everything else was put off until later.  If I had not had so much help, I really do not know how we would have survived.  As I have said before, we were carried along on a tidal wave of love and support. 

A couple of people who KNEW told me to hang in there, that we would get to a new normal.  A new normal?  There was nothing happening that I WANTED to become normal.  I did not even want this new existence in the first place, and I certainly didn’t want it to become normal.  But one cannot survive forever in crisis mode.  Resilience eventually takes over.

When Derek got out of the hospital the second time, my parents, who had stayed for seven weeks, went home. While I still had a lot of help from friends, I was forced to figure out how to fit in some things I had put off or let my mom do for me.  Now some things were added to my must-do list.  I had to do my own laundry, prepare food, and clean up the resulting messes.  Daily or almost daily visits to the clinic took up massive amounts of time.  It was during this time that I began to figure out a routine even in the midst of constant change, never knowing how long something would take, or when we would have to go back to the hospital at a moment’s notice.  While I didn’t dare bring it to conscious thought, I was figuring out how to survive in my new reality.  I was reaching a new normal. 

I am no longer operating in crisis mode.  I am walking one step at a time, able to take what comes with what God provides for me.  He has supplied abundant help from friends and family.  Dear friends watch Kristen when she cannot be with me.  More friends and church family bring meals each day we are in the hospital.  Other friends and family support in other ways.  I still don’t know what I would do without them.  I am even learning to ask for help when I need it because I admit I can not survive this by myself.  It is all part of my new normal.

A couple of weeks ago, Kristen said, “Mommy, what did we do before we had to go to the clinic all the time?”  She has reached a new normal, too.  Most of the children we see regularly are also operating in our new normal as well.   Doesn’t everyone spend hours at clinics with unexpected or planned visits to the hospital?  Doesn’t every child make realistic Lego clinics, complete with procedure rooms, playrooms, and nurses’ desks?  What was life like before this?

Even Derek himself has reached a new normal.  He is so used to feeling as he is that he does not see himself as sick.  Friday, when he just had a cold, we received a sweet card in the mail from a child friend.  Inside, it said, “From ___, To Derek, Get well.”  Derek looked at me and said, “Get well?  From what?  My cold?”  Doesn’t every child take half a dozen medications morning and night? Isn’t every child sedated for lumbar punctures and bone marrow tests?  Doesn’t every child spend weeks in the hospital?  In his mind, he is not sick. This is normal.

Today marks five months since we began this journey.  God has been with us at every step and every turn. I am so thankful for the resilience He has put in the human spirit; the ability to survive, to keep walking one step at a time through unknown territory, the ability to reach a new normal.

Update February 6, 2012

Derek handled the high-dose methotrexate treatment quite well. The only hitch was that it took a little more time than expected for it to clear out of his system. We ended up being in the hospital for six days. Toward the end of the hospital stay, I started feeling like I was fighting a cold. I wore a mask and washed hands frequently, but I had no one to stay with him during the day. Vince stayed with him for three nights in a row, just to reduce the exposure a little. He didn’t get my cold and I was able to fight it off for the most part. But Kristen got it, and she got a bad case of it just after Derek came home. I had both of them wear masks and limit contact with each other, but it is practically impossible to keep colds from spreading. Last Thursday, the day Derek was to be re-admitted for the next dose of methotrexate, he woke with a sore throat and runny nose. We went to the clinic, but they decided they didn’t want to knock out his immune system with chemo while he was trying to fight a bug, so we went home.

We enjoyed a quiet weekend at home. Sabbath evening we had the first fire in our fireplace we have had since moving to this house nine years ago. We roasted hotdogs and really enjoyed the evening. Sunday, we worked some more on the camera for the barn owl box we are installing in a palm tree in our yard. Sunday evening the kids wanted to repeat the fire, so we did.

This morning (Monday) I called the clinic to tell them Derek still had his cold. His sniffles were getting worse and he had a cough. The nurse said to check in again Wednesday. About 11:30 while I was doing home school with Kristen, Derek lay down on the couch for a nap. About 1:00 he roused and I went over to him. His cheeks were red, and I felt his forehead. It was warm. I got the thermometer and took his temperature. It was 101. The doctors have told us to call if his temperature goes over 100.4. We have never exceeded this before, thankfully, but I called the clinic immediately. When I couldn’t reach anyone there, I called the oncology unit at the hospital. They paged the doctor. An hour later I still hadn’t heard anything. Derek was now awake from his nap so I took his temperature again. It was 101.9. I called the hospital again. They said to bring him in. So as of 4:00 this afternoon, Derek is back in the hospital in isolation once again. They drew five vials for various lab tests and cultures, did two nasal swabs, and took a urine sample. Now they have him on two antibiotics, an anti-viral med, as well as his usual meds. His blood counts came back pretty good. His ANC is 1300, so he has a little bit with which to fight this bug, whatever it is. I hope it is just the cold, but the labs will tell.

Sabbath, January 21, 2012

On Monday when we went to the clinic, Derek’s ANC had risen to 600.  That is still low, but it was high enough that I was quite sure that by the end of the week he would begin phase 3 called Interim Maintenance.  They wanted to admit him Wednesday evening so they could hydrate him and give him a bone marrow and spinal chemo Thursday morning before giving him the high-dose methotrexate.  The high-dose methotrexate is part of the experimental drug protocol he is on as part of the study.  It is the second “big gun” that is pointed at him.

Wednesday when we went to the clinic to check his ANC, we were fully prepared to head to the hospital following the clinic visit.  It felt very strange planning a hospital stay, knowing it was going to happen.  The house was even clean and the laundry done. I was ready.

Back before Christmas when we were in the hospital, Derek and Vince were in the playroom when a generous donor who calls himself the “Toy Fairy” called to ask if there was anything in particular he could get for the cancer unit playroom.  The girl in charge of the playroom turned to Derek and asked if there was any toy he particularly wanted.  We avoid the video games and television that entertain so many kids, and Derek had about played himself out with most of the other toys, so it was really nice of them to ask Derek for his advice.  Vince and Derek suggested getting some Snap Circuits. We have a set at home that my family gave him a couple years ago, and he loves following the directions to make something electronic or designing something of his own. It allows for a lot of creativity while learning about electrical circuits, electronic parts, and what they do.  Just after Christmas, we heard at the clinic that they had received three sets from the “Toy Fairy” and that everyone at the hospital playroom was really enjoying them.  They thanked Derek for suggesting a great toy.  Now Derek was excited to see what they got and filled with anticipation of something new and interesting to play with at the hospital.  He was ready to go.

Derek’s ANC was 1600, well over the 750 required to start the next chemo round.  But there was one hitch: there were no beds available on the unit.  They sent us home.  It was almost a let-down. I could hear disappointment in Derek’s voice. It was almost as if we were expecting a baby on a particular day, and it didn’t arrive. (That is another story from when Derek was born.) Both kids were a bit fussy that evening. I could understand, because even I felt a little letdown.  Even though I have reservations about the next phase, I know it has to happen, and I guess I was ready to get it over with.  They said that after rounds Thursday afternoon, they would know whether there would be a bed on Thursday. 

All day Thursday we waited for the phone call.  Finally at 3:30, I called them.  Yes there would be a room, but the child had to be discharged (which is a lengthy process,) and the room needed to be cleaned.  They would call when they had a time it would be available.  At 6 p.m. I still hadn’t heard from them and called again. The unit secretary said they were cleaning it right then and told me to come.   I fed the kids a quick supper and got in the car.  When we arrived at the hospital, the room was still not ready. We waited.  Finally at 7:30 we were able to settle into his room.

Friday morning, Derek was sedated for a bone marrow sample and a spinal with intrathecal chemo.  Then a few hours later they gave him the VinCRIstine and started the high-dose methotrexate.  They hung a large bag of the chemo that will drip into his veins over the next 24 hours.  Because the medication is sensitive to light and will take so long to administer, it is covered with a brown plastic bag, and the nurse covered the IV lines with tape.

Derek was very active and energetic yesterday afternoon. He did not want to settle down and sit anywhere, especially in his bed. We got one of the Snap Circuit sets from the playroom. Derek was very happy to find it is a much bigger set than the one we have. He happily made a siren using instructions and then designed a fan on his own using a meter to compare one battery pack to two.  He also made a music player that played “Happy Birthday.” 

So far, he has had few side effects that we can tell.  His appetite has dropped and he feels some nausea, but that is all so far.  Once the medication is in his system, they will have to use another medication called leucovorin to rescue the healthy cells. This medication has to be administered at precise times following the chemo.  We will be able to leave the hospital when blood and urine samples show the methotrexate is out of his system.  Possible side effects besides nausea include mouth sores, vomiting, and diarrhea. He will repeat this cycle approximately every two weeks for a total of four treatments.

Thank you for your prayers on Derek’s behalf as he begins this next two-month phase of treatment.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Wednesday, January 11, Derek had his last chemo treatment of Phase 2 (Consolidation.) Now we have to wait until his blood counts come back up before we start Phase 3 (Interim Maintenance = IM.)  Wednesday, his blood tests showed he is extremely low with an ANC of only 100.  They cannot give him neupogen this time because his counts need to come up on their own before beginning IM.  So we will have to be extremely careful that he does not get sick. 

As a precaution, the doctor prescribed azithromycin to help prevent any bacterial infections.  When I picked up the medication, I was dismayed to find I had to give him two very large tablets once a day. Derek can swallow small pills pretty well, but he had never swallowed anything this large.  When I gave the tablets to him, I had to cut them in half, but still he had a very hard time swallowing them.  Because they were cut, they tasted horrible.  Even with applesauce and yogurt they did not go down, and when he took a drink, half a tablet fell into his water bottle and quickly disintegrated. I was frustrated.  I didn’t want to give him two cups of water at bedtime.  I decided to try again the next day. 

Thursday, I cut the tablets and put them in a tiny bit of water to disintegrate. We have heard that chocolate can sometimes mask medicinal flavors, so I added some chocolate syrup and drew it up into a syringe. Apparently, the taste of azithromycin is not masked well even by chocolate. When I shot it into his mouth, he sputtered and gagged. One mouthful ended up on the floor. Now I was really frustrated.  I could not get this medicine down him. Surely there must be an oral suspension they could give him instead. I called the pharmacy to ask them what I could do.  They said they could exchange it for a flavored liquid.  Since I was going to Loma Linda anyway for a Bible study/prayer group that evening, I could stop by to pick it up afterwards.  While I was in the study, Vince called me to say the doctor had called him to tell us that Derek had mistakenly been given 10 times the dose of azithromycin he was supposed to get.  Instead of 100 mg, he was getting 1000 mg from those two tablets. WHAT????!!!! How could that happen?? They only caught the error because I called them about changing it to a liquid.  All of a sudden, I was glad he had spit half a tablet into his water bottle and the mouthful on the floor. At least that reduced the overdose a little bit. And it had been the motivation for me to call.

But what would be the side effects of that large a dose in such a little body? The pharmacy apologized profusely and told me that stomach pain (which he was already having) and diarrhea were likely the worst side effects. I was relieved because I know some antibiotics can cause hearing loss.  Fortunately this is not one of them. Other than the stomach ache Thursday night, he has had no other adverse side effects. He did not even have diarrhea.  Thank you, Jesus!

This week, Derek will have a bone marrow test to check for any residual cancerous blast cells.  If his counts rise enough, we may start the next phase later this week.  Interim Maintenance will consist of four in-patient treatments spread about two weeks apart.  He will likely be in the hospital three to four days each time. His protocol will include high-dose Methotrexate with Leucovorin rescue, VinCRIStine, and intrathecal Methotrexate. He will also get Mercaptopurine for 56 days in a row. Phase 3 here we come.

I Am a Cancer Mom

I am not a soccer mom or a hockey mom, though I dare say I am as tough as any of them, maybe even tougher.  But I am not bragging.  Although I spend hours on the road transporting my children to events, I do not take them to practice or games. The events my children participate in are more of the life-or-death nature. The competition is fierce. There is no practice for the contest we are involved in.  We have been thrust into the fight without practice and without warning, and even without our permission.  We meet with our team and coaches on a regular basis, sometimes as much as five days a week and for hours at a time, sometimes all day. Sometimes we must live at the facility where we have around-the-clock assistance from our team and access to specialized competition methods.  I cheer them on, but not from the sidelines. I get right in there and fight, too. Sometimes I have to wield the instruments of conquest.  It is all blood, sweat, and tears; my child’s blood, my sweat, and all of our tears. So far, we are winning, but the fight is far from over, and the tide could turn at any time.  Vigilance is vital.  To let up, even for a day, could be the difference between victory and defeat.  We are in hand-to-hand combat, so to speak; my hand tightly holding those of my children and husband, and I’m not letting go. I am a cancer mom.

© Heather Page 2012

January 9, 2012

Christmas Eve Sabbath, Derek’s blood counts were quite good and we decided to go to church. It was the first time since September 3 that we have gone as a family of four. Derek was armed with a mask and I had bottles of hand sanitizer in my purse. It felt so wonderful to celebrate the special Sabbath with our church family who has done so much to support us on this journey.

Christmas day was relatively quiet spent with a few friends and family. The weather was unseasonably warm, and the kids played outside much of the afternoon. The next week was spent at the clinic as Derek had chemo each day. Derek’s counts were dropping and he required blood and platelet transfusions on Tuesday. Wednesday he had spinal chemo for which he was sedated. New Year’s weekend was very quiet as we sequestered ourselves away to avoid getting any bugs. Last week we again went to the clinic two days, one for chemo and the next for another blood and platelet transfusion. Thursday we went to the hospital for sedation and spinal chemo.

Other than falling blood counts, Derek has taken it all quite well. His appetite has been pretty good, and he has been able to go outside to enjoy the warm weather. We have taken several short walks, and his energy is coming back. His resilience amazes me. This Wednesday, he has the last chemo for phase two (Consolidation) of his treatment. Then we will have about two weeks off for his blood counts to come back up before starting phase three (Interim Maintenance.)  We are now half way through the most intense treatment.

New Year

What will you do that is new in this New Year? This was the question posted by a friend on Facebook. It is a good question. It implies activity and purpose rather than just hoping things will happen or change. Sometimes lasting newness doesn’t just happen. It is planned for carefully and worked toward diligently.

There are some things I hope for this New Year, things I intend to work toward with purpose, activity and choice. I hope:

• That I will figure out how to fit in house cleaning, cooking, laundry, and home schooling with all the hospital stays and clinic visits.
• That I will take advantage of each day granted me to laugh, play, and read with my children.
• That I will be a reflection of Jesus to those around me, lightening loads, bringing peace, hope, and smiles.
• That I will have peace, hope, and smiles.

Unfortunately, some newness does just happen, unexpectedly, without warning. I probably don’t really want to know all the new things I will do this coming year that I will have no control over; things I do not wish for or plan for, but are developing a new me, nonetheless. Here are a few new things I will do, though I don’t want to. I will watch my son finally lose all his hair. I will watch him go through new chemotherapy treatments and cranial radiation. I will learn the side effects of those treatments by watching Derek experience them. I will watch and listen to my daughter learn more about Leukemia than I knew even five months ago. I think in this aspect, I will need to take it a day at a time instead of thinking of the whole year ahead.

I have a few things I hope for this year, but for which I have little control over. I hope:

• That Derek’s leukemia will stay in remission.
• That Kristen’s rheumatoid arthritis will enter remission.
• That by the end of the year, I will have seen once again that God is always faithful.

Fortunately, the latter I am assured of because God has that as His plan for this year as well, something He will work toward diligently with activity and purpose. His goal is a new me. What will He do that is new this New Year?

Friday, December 23, 2011

Tonight we are all home once again. Derek was released from the hospital yesterday afternoon, just in time for Christmas.

For more than a week following his hospital admission, Derek was in a lot of pain. Morphine did not even touch it, so they had to give him an even stronger medication that pretty much knocked him out. The only solution for pancreatitis is to let the pancreas rest, so once again, Derek could eat and drink nothing.

Saturday night, he spiked a fever of 102° so they started him on three antibiotics. He was severely dehydrated, and to make matters worse, he started leaking fluids into the space around the organs in his abdomen (called third spacing) and he got quite distended. They moved him to the special care unit which is usually occupied by transplant patients, but also serves as acute care for other patients. They finally got his pain managed by putting him on a continuous drip of dilaudid, a very strong pain medication. Once the pain was under control, he began to perk up a bit and spend some time playing with his Legos and some other toys people brought him for early Christmas presents.

Initially, Derek’s pancreatic enzymes dropped sharply, but then plateaued, still well above normal levels. After a week, his pain increased again, and they had to increase his pain medication. As he stabilized, they moved him from the special care unit back to the regular unit. With his pain under control, he began going to the playroom and giggling again. For me there is nothing so reassuring as hearing him giggle.

Chemotherapy started again the week after he was admitted. We were concerned that it would slow his progress further, but he tolerated it fine.

After nearly two weeks, they reduced his pain medication to see how he was progressing. He had no pain except when they took him off completely. Finally, they allowed him to drink clear liquids, which he tolerated fine. He was not too keen on them, however. It was obvious he was still not really feeling like eating yet, but he did not throw up. A bout of diarrhea had us concerned that he might have caught an infection, but it resolved within a couple days.

Finally, after two and a half weeks, they removed him from the pain medication completely and let him eat soft foods. He did not eat much, and frequently after just a few bites, he would lie down and say his tummy hurt a little. It never lasted long, though, and he did not want medication for it. By now, his energy level was increasing and it was obvious he was feeling a bit better. Our goal was to get him eating enough to take him off his IV nutrition so we could go home by Christmas. The hospital food was not appealing to him at all, and it was hard to get him to eat or drink much of anything.

On Wednesday of this week, they told us they would release him after his chemo treatment on Thursday. We were ecstatic! We would be home for Christmas!

Sure enough, yesterday afternoon, after three weeks in the hospital, he was released from the hospital as planned. Last night we drove around looking at Christmas lights, a favorite activity he has missed the last three weeks. Today he began eating better, and I think he is on the mend. It is so good to be home!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Friday, December 2, 2011

Derek is back in the hospital tonight. This time it is pancreatitis, which is an uncommon but not rare reaction to one of the chemo drugs he received two weeks ago. The drug should be out of his system in the next week or so, and that is probably how long it will take the pancreatitis to resolve. He will not receive that chemo drug (PEG) anymore. So he is back in the hospital and not able to eat once again. This time, the big difference is he does not want to eat and throws up anything given him by mouth.

It started yesterday when he complained of stomach pain occasionally throughout the day. I rubbed his back. He felt a bit better after a bowel movement, and last night when asked if his tummy still hurt, he replied that it didn’t.

This morning, however, he woke up early and came and crawled in bed with me and complained that his tummy hurt again in the same spot, directly under his belly button. It was bad enough that he occasionally moaned in pain. I knew something was wrong and called the doctor. She and I feared the pneumatosis was causing problems. She told us to come to the clinic for blood work, which we did. His counts came back expectedly low but higher than Monday’s, which was also expected. They sent us over to the hospital for an X-ray and asked us to return to the clinic when done. The X-ray showed nothing, so they didn’t think it was the pneumatosis, but it didn’t show anything else, either. They decided to look at his enzyme levels in his blood which would indicate a pancreas problem. While we waited again for the results of the blood test, they sent us back to the hospital for a CT scan to get a better look and to see if there was any evidence of the pneumatosis. After four more hours, the CT scan was complete and we headed back to the clinic. When we walked in the door, the doctor told us it was pancreatitis. So just after 6 p.m. this evening Derek was admitted. He has had intense abdominal pain that got progressively worse all day. They said it can last several days and to expect being in the hospital for most of next week.

Things to be thankful for:

• There was no evidence of any pneumatosis whatsoever. It has completely resolved now.
• Derek does not feel like eating. That is a blessing because he can’t eat. Last time he was starting NPO he was ravenously hungry.
• Good friends opened their home to Kristen all day today while I took Derek back and forth between the clinic and hospital. I really don’t know what I would do without them! THANK YOU FRIENDS!!
• When I walked in the door this evening and listened to my phone messages, there was a message from a friend saying she had fixed food for us not even knowing we were at the clinic today or that Derek was admitted this evening. I think God impressed her to fix extra food, and she did. Thank you, friend.

So we take one day at a time, keep a packed suitcase in the back of the car for just such times as these, and trust the One who knows what tomorrow holds.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

 

Pilgrims and Indians ready to feast together.

We had an unusually quiet Thanksgiving this year.  Typically our house is filled with people to help celebrate and give thanks, but this year, sniffles and sore throats kept us from joining others for the special occasion.  So we celebrated in grand fashion at home by ourselves and managed to keep Derek healthy, which is a very big reason to thank God. 



We spent the day building Lego houses and clinics, reading stories, and talking to family on the phone.

Derek has this week off from chemo before beginning the next five-week cycle on December 5.  Tomorrow's clinic visit hopefully will be just a doctor visit and blood work, but we will see.   

Oxymora

An Oxymoron is a combination of contradictory or incongruous words. Sometimes used in humor, an oxymoron may also contain very deep meaning or a truth that may take some pondering to unpack. It seems my life is full of them, especially right now. Here are a few that describe my current experience.

Quick doctor visit
Ever-changing schedule
Hated blessing
Excruciating peace

As I think about it, however, the abundance of oxymora in my life right now is not limited to my current experience. Perhaps the life of every follower of Christ is characterized by oxymora. Second Corinthians 12:10 contains a couple of good examples: “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Pleasurable infirmities and distresses? Strength in being weak? Definitely oxymora to contemplate. What does each of these look like in practical life? Is it really possible to think of an infirmity or a distress as also a pleasure? Shouldn’t I just endure such things? Why do I need to find pleasure in them? Really, God? People frequently tell me these days to stay strong. But how do I stay strong when I am not strong to begin with? Perhaps this verse holds a clue. Thank You, God!

A favorite hymn of mine, penned by George Matheson in 1890, contains several compelling oxymora as well. Here are two verses from his original hymn.

Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free;

Force me to render up my sword, and I shall conqueror be.

I sink in life’s alarms when by myself I stand;

Imprison me within Thine arms, and strong shall be my hand.

My will is not my own till Thou hast made it Thine;

If it would reach a monarch’s throne, it must its crown resign;

It only stands unbent, amid the clashing strife,

When on Thy bosom it has leant, and found in Thee its life.

Sometimes events in my life right now seem incongruent, contradictory, even senseless. But like a dissonant chord that is quietly resolved in beautiful harmony, I believe that, as I surrender to my Composer, my oxymoronic life will someday make sense and be filled with even deeper meaning and beauty. Thank You, God!