Daniel Cleburne Reeves's Journal
Written Nov 14, 2013 7:49pmGreetings from the Reeves Five! We thank you for your continued prayers for our family and I’m pleased to report Daniel is doing great. We did have a bit of excitement back in September when blood was visible in his urine. I rushed Daniel to his pediatrician where tests were run immediately. Though doctors are baffled as to what may have caused the bloody specimen, it has not recurred and Daniel’s CBC (complete blood count) continues to testify to the blessed healing of his leukemia. We are ever grateful and I’m with Daniel, who following his last oncology visit in July said, “Mom, I really don’t want to ever have to go through all this again.” However, we also acknowledge that it’s through “all this”, that we have been brought so much closer to each other and, most especially, to our Savior.While I was certainly apprehensive on Wednesday, September 18, I think the Lord is making a good cowgirl out of me as He continuously provides opportunities for me to “lasso” my out-of-control thoughts. II Corinthians 10:5 says, “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” The Greek word for “take captive” that Paul was divinely led to use when he wrote to his friends at Corinth is “aichmalótizó.” Its implication is not a passive imprisonment, but rather an aggressive strategy to “subdue by sword.” God commands me to deal with my thought life and He’s provided the weapon. Ephesians 6:17 says, “…the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” Looking over the 299 entries recorded in this CaringBridge journal for Daniel and Caroline, I’m reminded of how I wanted to intentionally incorporate Scripture into each one because I desire our children to see that we cannot fight any battle in life without the weapon of God’s Word.Lord willing, this will be my last CB post. My biggest fan, Lee, has encouraged me to move my “Mommy journaling” into another format and we are pleased to share that with you today. Know you are dearly loved and we consider you our “extended family.” We hope you will accept our invitation and join us as we continue to share our laughs, our cries, and our learning: http://rememberyourraisin.com.
Written Apr 30, 2013 5:28pm
The carpool line shortened, and I could see Caroline and Daniel anxiously awaiting my arrival. Our firstborn was the first to hop in and fasten her seatbelt. She looked at me with eyes widened, “Mom, you are not going to believe what Sally said Jason texted her.” “What?” I asked, not exactly sure where this might lead. Caroline leaned toward me and whispered, “He called her a.... ” Caroline hesitated, inhaled deeply and relayed each letter somberly, “Jason called her a P-I-T-C-H!” Suppressing my urge to giggle, I pulled over and hugged Caroline. “Sweetheart,” I said, “I am so thankful you and Daniel are always willing to share things with Mommy and Daddy. But I believe the word Jason called Sally begins with the letter ‘b’ and, you’re right, it is not a nice word at all.” “Oh,” Daniel chimed in, “like the ‘s’ word.” Which, in our family, is still the word “stupid.”
Driving home, I rejoiced in the innocence of our twins. I also thanked the Lord for a husband who has chosen to remain on the same page in our parenting. We desire our speech to be edifying to the Lord and to others so we are conscious of the words we use to express ourselves. And we want to equip our children to make wise choices and be guarded in what they watch with their eyes, listen to with their ears and with the actions they take. We have resisted purchasing iPhones for Caroline and Daniel until we train them in how to maintain a covenant with their eyes and ears. To further ensure this safeguard, I have a basket next to our front door into which visiting friends drop their “smart” phones. Lee and I are certainly not defectless parents, but we are choosing to be deliberate in how we raise these three blessings God has permitted us to steward in this season.
Understand that we do not want our trio to be naive. Innocence and purity come by choice, not by ignorance. We live in a fallen world. Cursing happens. So does cancer. Today is the sixth anniversary of Daniel’s diagnosis. It is full awareness of all the heartache and hurt in this world that makes me ever more thankful for the cross of Christ Jesus. “For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures,” (I Corinthians 15: 3-4). In Him, our hope remains fixed, fastened, and secure.
The Reeves Five
Written Mar 18, 2013 9:19pm
Much has transpired since I posted in June of last year. Daniel returns to Levine Children’s Hospital every three months and is doing extremely well. During the summer, Lee and I were hiking up the Eiffel Tower with Caroline and Daniel, visiting the Arc de Triomphe, touring Versailles and learning to appreciate even more the sacrifices of our WWII heroes during our stay in Normandy. This fall, the children and I flew to Boston while Lee attended an Executive Management Program at Harvard Business School and, on Groundhog Day, February 2, 2013, we welcomed Miss Harrison McClary Reeves into our family!
These past six weeks for the Reeves Five have been both rewarding and challenging. I am counting on my CaringBridge family to continue your prayers for us. After Mommy and baby received the “all clear” for discharge from the maternity ward at Lake Norman Regional Hospital, we arrived home on Super Bowl Sunday, February 3, in time for kickoff! My precious parents, Clebe and Deanna McClary, had driven from South Carolina to stay with Caroline and Daniel and relieve my friend, Joyce Burke, who had rushed to our house about 2 AM Saturday. I romanticized a homecoming that had the twins immediately embracing their little sister and welcoming her home to our family. Perhaps my glasses were a little too rosy. As Lee and I crossed the threshold carrying our seven-pound, ten-and-a-half pound newborn, she was screaming at the top of her lungs and, generally, making a strong first impression. Daniel greeted us curiously and studied the tiny hospital bracelet still around Harrison’s wrist. Obviously annoyed with her crying, Daniel looked up at me pointing to Harrison’s wristband: “Is that her return tag?” He then raced upstairs to his room crying and slammed the door.
Needless to say, Daniel is now the first to kiss his baby sister before school and number one in line asking to hold her when he gets home. Just among us friends, I would ask you specifically to pray for Caroline. Daniel is a much easier read for me than his twin sister. Caroline, the consummate cheerleader, has encouraged her brother through his treatment and now has another girl to get used to in the family.
On Saturday, the twins turn twelve. While I truly savor most mommy-hood moments, guiding two hormonally challenged children into puberty; putting oodles of miles on the car as I drive them to and from tennis, lacrosse, and school; breastfeeding Harrison every few hours; and desiring to keep my marriage at the top of it all can be daunting. But, whenever I take my focus off my heavenly Father and attempt to look at life from the middle of my circumstances, I am always discouraged and sense I am drowning. It never fails. Real spiritual maturity and success is seeking the Lord’s perspective on my circumstances. He loves me and has planned for my best. When I feel like Daniel and seek a “no hassle return policy” on the irritations of life, I am reminded that God most effectively uses those times to bring a greater revelation of Who He is.
King Jehoshaphat responded well in II Chronicles 20:12 when he said: “O our God ...we have no power against this great multitude that is coming against us; nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are upon You.” How thankful I am that my parents instilled in me the importance of keeping my gaze on Jesus. Faced with sleep deprivation and preteen drama, it isn’t hard to contrast the balloons and laughter I found in the maternity ward to the antiseptic smell and silence I remember from the pediatric oncology clinic. We have been truly blessed, and I am grateful.