Ahh, being a child of the 80's and a teen of the 90's is so great for nostalgia. Transformers (the original toys and cartoons, not the Michael Bay monstrosities), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (back when they were actually mutants, not aliens...wait, is that Michael Bay's hand I see in that again? What is it with that guy?), U Can’t Touch This, and Ice, Ice Baby: all simply perfect, not able to be improved upon by Michael Bay or anyone else.
Oh nostaglia, how wonderfully rose are your glasses.
So, of course, I have to co-opt a line from the original A-Team for my title tonight. I’m not sure why I’m feeling nostalgic, but it’s an appropriate line for a title. Maybe it’s because we’ve been waiting for a few weeks for a plan, and one is finally now coming together.
Hannibal would be proud.
In this case, the plan isn’t to send Murdock to fly B.A. Baracus around on some crazy scheme to divert the bad guys while Faceman sets up a con. Everyone knows B.A. is afraid of flying.
No, in this case, we have a semblance of a plan that we think we’ll serve us well over the next few weeks.
We got news this past week that Davis’ surgery is scheduled for this coming Thursday, April 10, and then there will be two more rounds of chemo after that. Suzanne, Davis, and I will head back to Vancouver on Tuesday, meet with the surgeon on Wednesday, and get ready for Thursday’s surgery. Assuming all goes well, it will be roughly a week of recovery time.
If it were a normal week, the surgical team would then hand him back to the oncology team and we’d start the next round of chemo right away. But a week out from surgery is April 17, which this year is Maundy Thursday--the beginning of the biggest weekend of the church year, and a weekend we’d really like to be back in Penticton, for both church and family reasons.
We’ve been cleared to delay the next round of chemo for a few more days, so we’ll plan to bring Davis home when he’s recovered from surgery, spend Easter weekend at home--so we can have some family time over the holiday and so I can lead worship Thursday night, Friday morning, and Sunday morning--and then head back to Vancouver on Monday to start the next round of chemo on Tuesday.
I love it when a plan comes together. Especially when that plan allows us to be home for Easter and allows me to preach on the highest day of the year. It’s the day we intentionally and loudly celebrate the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, and our new life because of that. It's the fuel for the whole rest of the year, as every Sunday is really a "mini-Easter" for us. It's the thing that defines the Christian faith, and the thing on which we hang all of our hope (1 Corinthians 15:12-21).
Of course, as the A-Team, and any other military folk, will tell you, any great plan last only as long as the first step into battle, so things could change. But for now, this is plan A, and we’ll keep you updated as we go. One thing we’ve learned in this whole journey is that we need (and sometimes get) strength only for today, and let tomorrow worry about itself. So we'll continue to take it one day at a time while daring to look a few weeks out and bring a plan together.