Thankful, Breakfast Burger, and Ray Gun Doctor

Yesterday, my phone rang, and Pastor Chris Truett and his church staff encouraged and prayed for my family and me.
A few moments later, my “youth pastor” Fred Caraway called to schedule a visit for next week, even though it is a 6-hour drive.

My bride faced the panic-stricken hordes at the supermarket to liberate the ingredients for a breakfast burger (like the ones from Red Robin) because she thought I would be able to eat and enjoy it.

At different times yesterday and today, I overheard our two kids on the phone chatting to each other like they are the best of friends.

For the first time since last December —
I put my socks on without assistance.
I was able to brush my teeth using only one hand.
I worked more than 2 hours without having to lie down.

Yesterday, we cut my pain medicine back, and so far, I haven’t noticed the difference.
I was privileged to pray for others who are going through their own chaos and valley. Our family can do this now because of the many thousands who have prayed for us in the past.

Yesterday, I thought again that we will celebrate Easter in a few weeks (and I may be here to join in that celebration.) Maybe for the first time in a while, we will not overemphasize eggs, outfits, and candy more than the hope of the Gospel. Maybe we will understand that the most powerful events in the last two thousand years are not a virus, a bomb, or a battle. What should promote awe in our lives is the birth, death, and Resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Yes, I have cancer. Mounds of it. I can barely walk up the stairs and can’t stand for more than a few minutes at the time. My vocal cords are weak and I sound like an old geezer channeling a 12-year-old girl. My hair is no more.
But, I also have the reality of the Gospel, the hope of a new body, the ministry of the Holy Spirit, the forgiveness of sins, and the daily blessings from the people of God.

Yesterday, sorry, Today, I am thankful.

3/20 – Friday will be my next pet scan. This is the test that they use to see the status of my cancer. They will also insert markers to help my radiologist know where to point his ray gun. I will not have to wait very long for the results as that afternoon, I have my second appointment with said ray gun doctor. Please pray for God’s will to be done.


Many of you have shared our story with your circle and tribe, we are unendingly thankful for you.

Things I Love About My Husband’s Cancer Diagnosis – Day 41

Things I Love About My Husband’s Cancer Diagnosis

Before you question my sanity, please let me explain.

I cried while I was making eggs the other day. Not because the eggs were bad or the milk was soured. I cried because a thought came to my mind like an arrow. As serious as Rodney’s cancer is, how many more times will I be able to make eggs for his breakfast before the effect of this aggressive chemo rears its ugly head and takes away his appetite and ability to keep food down? How many mornings have I bemoaned the fact that I needed to get up early to cook eggs for his low carb lifestyle? How many mornings have I wished that he could just eat toast or cold pizza from the refrigerator?

One thing (of many) that I have learned in the last few weeks is that a C-word diagnosis changes a person. Not just physically, although that will happen. Rodney is facing multiple challenges in the coming months. More chemo, more scans, more shots, more nausea, more extreme pain as the poison that’s become a part of his body does its work of killing the “bad stuff” but taking the “good stuff” down with it too. SO. MANY. UNKNOWNS. Will he lose all his hair? Will throwing up become a daily occurrence? And how about that tiredness that won’t give up and the realization that putting in a 4-hour workday is a gargantuan accomplishment when you are accustomed to 10+ hour days? What about Reilly’s basketball games? Holidays? Visits with family and friends? Can he preach? Will he feel well enough to come to church? Visiting the shut-ins? Checking on the widows? “Swinging by” to see visitors? Continuing the discipleship meetings he had already established? There is very more to this evil disease than the physical aspect of it.

I have mentioned some things that I dislike about cancer (see the above paragraph for ideas). Now let me tell you what I LOVE about cancer.

I love that everything about my relationship with my husband is completely clear.
I love him.
I have always loved him (for the last 25 years anyway). I will always love him. That’s it. No matter what tomorrow holds. Everything is summed up in this sentence . . . I LOVE RODNEY HOLLOMAN. I love simply holding his hand. I love him being near me. I miss him when we are apart for too long . . . all things that were true weeks ago, but are so unambiguous today. I remind him often that when we were engaged, he promised me an adventure. (I told him that this is NOT QUITE what I had in mind, but an adventure regardless.)

I love that the things that previously may have caused me some angst (i.e. snoring, etc.) are precious to me now. As I type this, I am sitting in the living room of our home. Rodney, being himself, thought that he could conquer the world and went to make some visits. He came home just a few hours later exhausted. He crashed on the chair next to me and almost immediately fell asleep. The sounds of him breathing (albeit somewhat loudly at times) are like sweet music to my ears. Why did it take cancer for me to see this?

And the most important thing I love about cancer is the renewed focus we have as a family to “make much of Jesus” (as Rodney would say). Sometimes we get to a place in our lives where we are content and even complacent. The day-to-day seems to be all-consuming. Ball games, meal planning, Sunday school lessons, worship team practice, work . . . the list goes on. A cancer diagnosis helps put everything into perspective. What things are essential and what things can be put away for a season. I can tell you, that some things I thought I HAD to do…NOPE. Not right now. I guess you could say that serious “bend in the road” gives you laser-focused clarity like nothing else. Our family mission has always been to “love Jesus, trust Jesus, and to live for Jesus”, but it wasn’t until a bit ago that we put it “on paper.” If everything our family experiences in the coming months doesn’t point someone to the One Who loves us like no other, then we have not used our new adventure for His glory as we have hoped.

Lest anyone be confused, I DO NOT have it all together and would never claim to have it all figured out. (Remember I cried in the eggs?) But I know that this is God’s plan for us right now. This season of trial is the path that He has allowed. He will give us the grace to face the coming days.

One of my favorite passages that I often refer back to is found in Psalm 107. The part that I love the most and paints the best picture of a stormy time in my life starts in verse 24… (italics mine)

These (the people who rely on the sea for their livelihood) see the works of the Lord and his wonders in the deep. For he (God) commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the waves thereof. They (the waves) mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble. They (the people) reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit’s end. Then (at their wit’s end) they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he (God) bringeth them out of their distresses (the storm). He maketh the storm a calm so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they (the people) glad because they are quiet; so he (God) bringeth them unto their desired haven.

I take great comfort in knowing that my God, Who allowed this storm to happen in the first place, will “bring us out of our distresses . . . into our desired haven.” Rodney has said repeatedly, “if this is the next thing I get to do for God or if it’s the last thing I get to do for God, I want to do it well, pointing people to Jesus.” We want to make much of King Jesus.

Please Stop Knocking Me Out

I Don’t Like Being High.

So, two weeks ago, I was knocked out several times. That Thursday and Friday, they loaded me down with fentanyl. Some days before that it was some type of general “loopy” drug that they never told me the name. And, I discovered after 48 years of never needing to know this about myself, that I don’t like being sloshed out of my gourd. Also, I am (apparently) a loud person who has no inhibitions when he is ‘high as a kite.” However, some protein will calm me down. So, in the days ahead, if you see me with a medical bracelet indicating recent surgery, feed me eggs, bacon, and chicken. That seems to sober me up.

We only now realized this after Andrea left me alone long enough to procure some of this aforementioned sustenance while I alertly recognized one of our county commissioners and subsequently had a delightful chat with him in my dazed condition. If there is a video of this, I may never pastor again.

To recap, I had three medical procedures, one visit to the oncologist, followed by a wonderful visit from my brother, mother, and sister in law who all happened to be carrying our wonderful daughter Allison home from school. It was Christmas. I don’t know that I have ever been happier to see my family than I was last Friday.

Wednesday of last week was my first chemo appointment. Blood work, more details about the horror of cancer in my body, and then quickly into the chair for the next 5 hours. They gave me Benadryl (downer) to help with anti-rejection and steroids (upper) to help my body prepare for the chemicals and help my lungs. It was not unlike the feeling of being awake for 24 hours after flying all night internationally in stormy weather- very tired and yet full of adrenaline. Then, they gave me four different kinds of chemo to combat my aggressive lymphoma.

On top of everything, I missed lunch.

Right now, I will receive this chemo every other week on Wednesdays so that my body can have enough time to recover in between the truckloads of chemicals. The doctors and staff at Tennessee Cancer Center are just so kind and professional. They have gone above and beyond to help us be comfortable in what is undoubtedly an uncomfortable time in our lives.

We have seen God answer prayer as a lady was saved this week, He is providing speakers for our services when I will be unable to preach, and our people are taking more and more of the responsibilities for the ministry. The Lord continues to bless our church as we had guests for the last two weekends and a good spirit in the services. Chad Kivette​ and Todd Parrish​ have ministered to Hardin Valley Free Will Baptist Church​ in a providential and pastoral way. Our folks are still hurting, but we are hurting together as we cling to the God who is good and wise.

Hopefully, our slower rate of posting is not confusing to the many hundreds who are concerned and praying. We feel like we have missed several messages and phone calls during these days, and we are trying not to neglect anyone who has taken the time to call or write. Similarly, we are cautious about the facade of social media – the ability to edit and put out the best possible version of events in public. Our lives have never resembled “social media perfect” as we are fallen, depraved sinners in need of the great grace of God. We have our good moments and fits of gloom. It is neither practical nor plausible to share all of these. So, as we write and share, we hope to put the “perfect” on the Savior.

  1. Please pray for the tumors to shrink around my throat and windpipe in particular as their freeloading is really beginning to tax my patience.
  2. We rejoice that my bone marrow was healthy so now we can fight the lymphoma on just the one cancer front.
  3. Please pray that I stay healthy and able to keep up the regimen. I have some cardiology tests tomorrow (9/10/19) to see how my heart is doing with my cancer and chemo. Please ask the Lord for wisdom for the doctors as pain management is now becoming an issue.
  4. Please pray that God would be glorified and that souls will be saved. We want to keep the spotlight on Him.
  5. Finally, please pray that I will not be “high as a kite” in public ever again.

Overwhelmed and Thankful

Overwhelmed and Thankful
We are unable to begin to thank you for your support, calls, messages, and offers to do “anything we need, anytime we need it” from just so many.
Over the last 48 hours, we have been reduced to tears so many times as you have communicated your love to our family and our church. God is so good to show His love to us through His people. Thank you for helping to bear our burdens during this season of our lives.
Today began the next part of our marriage adventure as we met with my oncologist. The meeting went well with lots of explanations of what is going on in my body, the stage of my cancer, along with what seems to be ahead for us. God has favored us with a doctor who is a Christ-follower and an expert in this field.
He has scheduled me for a port for my chemotherapy and a bone marrow biopsy. This is all happening quickly, and then we will start my fight in earnest. In God’s good providence, I should take my treatments less than 5 minutes from our church and also where Andrea is employed.
Our urgent prayers are that the (1) bone marrow will be healthy, (2) the med port installation will not result in infection, and that (3) the most substantial “dessert plate-sized” tumor will not impede any further than it is upon my lung or windpipe. (I have grown rather fond of breathing.)
Truly, our most urgent prayer is for God to use this in our lives for His glory.
Our family is so glad to be a part of the family of God. Thank you for joining us in praying that we will ‘Love God, Trust God, and Live for God.” We continue to be in awe of His grace and goodness and overwhelmed by your love for our family.

Thank God for Pneumonia — I Have Cancer

Thank God for Pneumonia — I Have Cancer

Out of all the words I have ever spoken to my wife, these may have been the hardest yet. On Tuesday, August 20, my Pulmonologist’s PA told me I needed a CT scan immediately. I had been dealing with fluid on my lungs and pneumonia that seeming would not let go since the first of July. As I argued and said I was tired of writing checks to doctors, getting x-rays, and feeding hungry vampire phlebotomists, she simply said that I HAD to get the test done.

As it turns out, the multiple doctor visits and repeated x-rays uncovered at least 2 malfunctioning lymph nodes. On Thursday, by using the scans as a type of flipbook, you could see the tumor spreading out towards my lung and encroaching towards my windpipe. Then, he said we needed a bronchoscopy, a PET scan, and some oncologists. My doctor proceeded to empower his staff to get it done. I saw three total strangers throw themselves into getting everything he asked for my care. I am forever grateful to the Statcare people in Knoxville. They not only got me the PET scan with half a day’s notice, but they also did it in one of the most advanced facilities in the region. It was read that afternoon and they conveyed it to me by 3PM. Rarely, has a phone call ever been so frightening as they summarized all the rest that is going on in my body. They have booked me a “crack” team to do the biopsies on Monday and will have a pathologist in the surgical room to examine the samples right then.

They went after the oncologist that no one could get into and would be months to see if I did get on his list. They said I should pick an alternative cancer doctor. I told them I didn’t have another name. By noon on Friday, waiting under a warm blanket with my body full of radioactive dye, they called and said I had the appointment with the man no one could get into and I had no chance to see on Tuesday morning at 8 AM.

We have spent these past days telling our family and others of our news about my aggressive lymphoma. I feel like I have made more people cry than at any time in my life combined. Today, our church learned of what was in our path. They cried too.

Tomorrow, I will take a good nap and wake up with a sore throat. Tuesday at 8 AM, we will start the rest of our journey together.

We are simply overwhelmed by the love and outpouring of calls and messages from people in the states and around the world. We cannot thank you enough. Thank you for praying. To all of those we did not get to contact personally, we hope you will understand. It was just impossible to contact all of those we love who mean so much to us.

Our new family motto is that we will “Love Jesus, Trust Jesus, and Live for Jesus.” Regardless of this outcome, I don’t want to waste this cancer. If this is the next thing I do for Jesus or the last thing I do for my King, I want to do it well. Please pray that we glorify God in the next stage of our adventure.

Our children, in particular, need your love and support. Our church is hurting mightily tonight as well as our extended family. Andrea and I are in the chaos of the storm, with emotional waves of all kinds tossing us about. With every deluge of fear, doubt, confusion, and the nagging sense of future loss, we cling tightly to the God who is greater than our storm.