Christmas Wishes!

Beth and I had hoped to head south today, but instead it looks like we'll be waiting out a blizzard.  Better safe than sorry, I guess.

We had wanted to get down to Missouri as soon as possible as my grandpa is in the hospital in Columbia, but it's probably best we not get stranded in the middle of Iowa in the process.  Regardless, the folks at MU are taking great care of him and I'm optimistic he's going to end up doing well.

Anyway, Beth and I are pretty stoked about our family Christmas gifts this year.  I don't want to give away any surprises, but let's just say we spent a fair amount of time experimenting in the kitchen, and that all of our gifts will bear this awesome label:

Beth and I want to wish all our friends and family a very merry Christmas.  We're too lame and lazy to send out Christmas cards, but that doesn't mean we don't value each of you!

Real Men Attend (Congo) Baby Showers

Beth and I had the pleasure of hosting a baby shower this past weekend for our good friends, the Mukweges.

They are from Congo so the whole concept was completely foreign to them.  But we had a great turnout and we were able to bless them in a unique way while they are far from family.

Anyway, it was my first baby shower and Beth put me in charge of games.  I had fun with that, of course, and it allowed Beth to focus on the food and gifts and details and stuff.  I suggested we should go into business as a baby shower planning team.  Seriously, ladies, invite me to your baby showers; you won't regret it! (note: please do not actually invite me to your baby shower)

The real point of this post is to give you some background on who the Mukweges (Alain and Deborah) are and about the situation they have lived through in Eastern Congo.

Alain's father, Denis Mukwege, is actually a surgeon and activist that has been repairing victims of sexual abuse for years in Congo.  Rape is a form of warfare in Congo and Dr. Mukwege has become somewhat of a spokesperson against the violence.  He's received all kinds of awards and even been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize.

A few months ago he spoke before the UN General Council demanding international support.  When he returned home he found his house overtaken, his daughters held at gunpoint, and men intent on killing him.  Shots were fired and a man gave his life protecting Dr. Mukwege.  Fortunately, Alain's family escaped the assassination attempt unharmed.

Anyway, I've written an essay about this whole situation and my relationship with Alain that is currently undergoing review for publication (so I can't actually post it here).  My hope is that it will increase awareness of the situation in Congo.

Here are some links if you'd like to learn more:

http://kristof.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/11/02/dr-mukwege-fights-back/
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/10/27/world/africa/human-rights-doctor-in-congo-eludes-gunmen.html?_r=0

Who will it be today? #5

Who will it be today?  Me.

What a novel concept.  Sometimes it's not about who we can encourage or bless, but who can bless us.  We all need our "sponge" to be saturated, after all, before we can ever wring it out.  For me, this sort of encouragement usually comes through a message or a small group discussion or a word from scripture, but a couple weeks ago it came in the form of a complete stranger.  I haven't been able to get the image of that experience out of my mind so I decided to preserve it as part of this series.

I was waiting for some prescriptions to be filled at the hospital (something I find myself doing on a weekly basis).  They weren't quite finished yet so I took a seat there in the lobby.  About this time I heard a faint, singing voice coming from the direction of the gift shop.  I readjusted my position to get a better view.
Sure enough, the information desk attendent was singing.  She was a volunteer, a petite Asian woman standing behind the desk with a hymnal in hand.  Her voice was quiet and her demeanor was timid, and yet it was obvious she was singing because she wanted people to hear.  There was nothing spectacular about her voice, only her courage; indeed, she was either very sweet or very odd.
As people walked by, some would stop and smile.  Others seemed to feel sorry for her and the awkwardness she was creating.  One man finally stopped and started singing with her.  It wasn't until that point that I could even make out what was being sung...

"When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!"
"When we all see Jesus, we'll sing and shout the victory!"

She had taken it upon herself to encourage the patients and families in that hospital.  And it was beautiful.  As I later realized, she could barely speak English, but she knew a few hymns (and, apparently, how to give decent directions to the cafeteria).  She didn't care what she couldn't do and she didn't intend to rely on her own abilities to make anything happen.  She just trusted that her God would use her in some way to help some people.  I think He did.

Who will it be tomorrow?

2012, In Review

I haven't given an update on my clinical situation or personal life in a long time.  So consider this a way overdue summary of where I'm at as we finish up 2012.

As most people know, I started this year struggling with graft vs host disease and hopeful to begin my medicine residency here at Mayo in July.  Beth and I were married in May but the GVH never really left so residency was, once again, postponed.

The summer was enjoyable but I developed a pretty severe infection with cytomegalovirus (CMV) that continued to keep me sidelined.  I started doing some part-time research through Mayo (mostly from home) and that turned out to be useful in helping me feel more productive.

About the time we got the CMV under control, we realized my thyroid was shot.  My TSH continues to be way out of whack (86 currently) and is not responding to increasing doses of oral thyroid hormone supplementation.

Ultimately, there seems to be a severe malabsorption problem that keeps a lot of my medicines from doing their job (I take over 13 unique meds/day, multiple doses of some).  And it's a catch-22 because if I increase the steroids to help cut down on the inflammation and increase absorption, it makes me that much more susceptible to the CMV and it really messes up my bones.

As things stand in December 2012, I've got a lot of things wrong with me.  I effectively have no thyroid and will probably require some special subcutaneous form of levothyroxine to address this.  My energy is low as a result of the thyroid issue and also anemia that is caused by the medicine I have to take for the CMV.  Unfortunately, the CMV medicine is not working perfectly and I may actually be developing some resistance to it.  I continue to deal with GVH which causes a fair amount of nausea, vomiting, and colitis.  The steroids that I take for this have officially weakened my bones to the point of osteoporosis.  I take vitamin D for this but, once again, I'm not absorbing it as well as I should be.  My heart and my lungs are working great, and my liver seems to be doing better.  My kidneys are losing a little bit of protein which causes me to swell up sometimes but it's probably just a medication side effect and we're watching it.

Anyway, I remain hopeful some of this stuff will work itself out.  Certainly, I'm cancer-free and that's a blessing.

And although this all sounds like it must be horrible, life is really pretty good.  Being married to Beth is the best part and she brings a lot of joy to my life.  She is enjoying teaching at the high school and I'm proud of how hard she works.  We have a lot of friends here and have made so many more meaningful connections with people than we would have predicted just a year ago.

As far as major life changes, I've decided (with the support of Beth, our families, and my doctor) that internal medicine is probably never going to happen for me....and, quite frankly, I don't think I want it to.  I have certain priorities for my life and working 80 hours/wk just doesn't align with them anymore (not that I could ever physically do it anyway).  I've put in an application for a part-time science tutoring gig at the community college which I think I might enjoy.  I'm also continuing to do some important research here at Mayo and am trying to become a more productive writer.  I have mostly decided that, if I do decide to pursue a residency and career in medicine, it will probably be in the field of pathology....but that wouldn't happen until July of 2014 at the earliest.  I suppose there's no rush; I've already passed all my boards.  In the mean time, I'll be exploring opportunities in teaching and research and possibly writing a book!

I'm going to try to keep this blog up to date (I never was a facebook fan) so feel free to follow it for info on how I'm doing, what I'm up to, and where you can buy the book ;)

Who will it be today? #4

Who will it be today?  The cancer patient.

My year's supply of Toppers' pizza has come in really handy.  Beth and I have enjoyed being able to bless people with all the pizza we can't possibly eat.
One of the advantages of living and working around a place like Mayo Clinic is that there's no shortage of visitors in need.
I was walking through Methodist Hospital's lobby today and saw a woman who was clearly a cancer patient.  Aside from a lack of hair she seemed to be relatively well and capable of enjoying some pizza.  I introduced myself and asked if she was in town for a while.  "Couple days," she said.  I asked her if she liked pizza, gave her this week's coupon and a copy of my letter, and wished her the best.  Easy peasy.

Maybe it was too easy.  I think I actually dodged my assigned appointment for something more convenient.  As I was walking downtown I came across an elderly person raking leaves across the street.  I couldn't make out whether the individual was a woman or a man, but I could definitely tell he or she was too old to be raking leaves.  I think that's the person God wanted me to approach and, as much as I hate to admit it, that was the person God wanted me to rake leaves with.  I actually stopped in the middle of the sidewalk for an awkward amount of time and considered the situation.  I "reasoned" with God that I had to get to work (I didn't really), I wasn't dressed to rake leaves (there wasn't really much raking left to do), and that if God wanted me to help the person He should have put us on the same side of the street (not exactly a high-traffic area).

I truly hope the cancer patient is blessed by the pizza, but I know in my heart I dropped the ball.  I hope God will give me another shot and that I'll be more faithful.  This whole process is about learning lessons.

Who will it be tomorrow?

The Cancer Chronicles, #5

*The Cancer Chronicles is a re-posting of blog updates I gave during my initial diagnosis and treatment*

June 16, 2011:

Everything is going more or less as planned from a treatment standpoint.  My marrow is recovering nicely and I will soon be stable enough to head north (could be discharged by the weekend).  I really have no indication of the timeline required to complete the transplant, how difficult it might be to find a donor, or how much sense it would make to try and work at all this year.  But all of those things should get cleared up once I get to Rochester and have a chance to meet with my transplant physician, Dr. Litzow.  For now, I'm watching a lot of History Channel and Netflix and enjoying the company of lots of special people.

Aside from being tired often and generally short on energy and ambition, I feel mostly well.  I have managed to read about half of The Problem of Pain.  To this point, the book has mostly focused on setting the stage for how pain and suffering can exist in the Creation of a good God, and less on how we should respond when we encounter it (that comes later).

Lewis is as insightful as always, but I especially like how he describes our world as a neutral "playing field" of sorts; one that has its own set of governing principles over which we have no control.  Similar to how we might think of a video game "world" or "level," the point of the place is only to give the players a context in which to interact and do things that matter.  The rules of the world are the same for everyone (fire is hot, gravity pulls down, etc); but not everyone plays the game the same.  The necessity of this sort of set-up is beyond the scope of this note, but it's well-described in the book.  Suffice is to say, there is no sensible way to allow free will and simultaneously maintain a world that is equally convenient to all souls at all times.  It's an academic argument, admittedly, but it's sound. 

Of course, the concept of disease itself does not seem intrinsically necessary in this model (especially disease that could not have been prevented by alternative individual choices).  Lewis chalks this one up to the fall.  He believes, or perhaps just surmises, that we were originally created with the ability to control our physical body and all processes therein through our spiritual self.  When man Fell, he chose himself over God.  It was then that God relinquished this unique control and turned the direction of our bodies over to the laws of nature.  These laws include imperfections and inefficiencies that make us susceptible to disease, give us all a lifespan, and remind us of our mortality.  Of course, this is just Lewis' best guess and one of many possibilities so it's hard to know whether or not this is actually how it played out.

The truly important thing to realize is that this existence is simply not the point.  For centuries, a foundational component to the enlightenment of the Christian worldview has been a belief that we were made for something more and an awareness that this is not our ultimate home (in many ways, it really is little more than the first level of a video game).  But we probably say this sort of thing without fully believing it more often than not and leukemia, if nothing else, is helping me to grow in my dependence of this truth.

Ultimately, reconciling the "problem" of pain with the character of God is probably not something that we will ever be capable of on intellectual grounds alone--we just aren't smart enough.  And this is why faith is so necessary.  After all, no amount of intelligent argument in God's defense will ever be more compelling to me than what I know in my heart to be true about Him--that He's real, that He's good, and that He loves me.  But I realize not everyone has that knowledge and many have chosen to believe other things about God.  And that's the tragedy.  Not the fact that pain and suffering exist in the world, but the fact that there are so many people without the means to explain it, understand it, or cope with it. 

Here's to hoping my next update is from somewhere other than a hospital bed...

Who will it be today? #3

Who will it be today?  The hitch-hiker.

I don't normally pick up hitch hikers.  In fact, this was my first one.
Beth and I were on our way back to Missouri for Thanksgiving and, somewhere in central Iowa, we came across a gentleman trying to flag down a ride.
For whatever reason, I felt like we should turn around and see what he needed.  After we talked to him for a while I had a peace about helping him get to Interstate 80.
Turns out he lives in California and was trying to get back there.  He had been in Iowa because his mother had lived there and had recently died.  He was a nice guy.  Almost child-like in his innocence.  He has PTSD, apparently, but I don't know any details about the trauma he has experienced.  It doesn't matter really.  It's a devastating condition and, I'm sure, it is the main reason he finds himself in such undesirable circumstances.

I wanted to give him a letter but I didn't have any on me.  In this case, though, I never got the impression God wanted me to share knowledge with him.  I got the feeling he's heard all he needs to hear.  What God wanted for Beth and I was for us to be hands and feet.  We had been divinely appointed to take a man that mattered to the Father from Nowhere, Iowa to a random Pilot Truck Stop on Interstate 80.  We prayed with him, filled his belly, and became his facebook friend.

Who will it be tomorrow?

Who will it be today? #2

Who will it be today?  The shuttle driver.

I had to take the car to the shop today for some normal maintenance stuff.  Quite conveniently, they provide shuttle service back and forth to your home or job while they are working on things.
When I dropped the car off at 7:30 in the morning, the shuttle driver that brought me home was an older gentleman.  He was quiet but friendly and unassuming.  After I got home I decided I would hand out my letter to him on the return trip.

I prayed.  I asked God to give me an opportunity and to give me courage.

What He gave me was a burly, goateed fellow for the return trip to the dealership.  I should have figured.  I had all but decided to wuss out until the moment we pulled into the drive.  Then, whether it was the Spirit's urging or not, I felt a moment of awkwardness that seemed like the perfect time.  As I stepped out of the van I turned and thanked the gentleman for the ride and gave him my letter; and I think I wished him a happy Thanksgiving.  I dunno.  But I was at least mostly obedient on this occasion.

On another note; the Honda Odyssey is truly an amazing automobile.

Who will it be tomorrow?

The Cancer Chronicles, #4

*The Cancer Chronicles is a re-posting of blog updates I gave during my initial diagnosis and treatment*

June 10, 2011:

I spent most of the day in a Benadryl-induced coma, so excuse me if this short update is completely unintelligible.  I had a reaction to some platelets today but, aside from getting one of the most impressive rashes I've ever seen, I suffered no real harm.

I know a lot of you have been praying for the bone marrow biopsy and I wanted to thank you all and let you know that the marrow came back aplastic (good!).  So, for now at least, I am in a tentative clinical remission.  Now, we just wait for the marrow to start bouncing back and see what grows.  Continue to pray that things grow back normal and without cancer.  Right now the white count is around 600 and it may take a couple weeks for things to really kick back into gear. 

Thanks again for the prayers, more to come later.

...and go Mavs.

Operation: Christmas Child

Wow!  Our Bible study managed to come up with 27 shoe boxes full of gifts this year.  That's 27 more happy Christmases around the world.  What a cool experience.
It's not too late to pack your own!
Learn more about this cool ministry here.

Who will it be today? #1

Who will it be today?  Guy needing directions.

So, I had been feeling really challenged to start being intentional about sharing Jesus with strangers and, last week, I told my Bible study to hold me accountable in that--I wanted them to ask me how it went this coming Wednesday.
I proceeded to make my letter that I can give to people, which I determined would decrease awkwardness and allow for smoother interactions.
My first attempt was this past Saturday and was an epic fail.
Today was, in my opinion, a success.  The two tries were pretty much opposite in every way and taught me some valuable lessons about being a witness.

Some things I learned:

1.) You can't do this sort of thing with an objective of pleasing men.  At first, I felt like I had to follow through and "make something happen" because people were holding me accountable.  I was trying to force a divine appointment and that really isn't how it works.  After chasing this guy with a pony tail around the Civic Center for most of the morning it finally dawned on me that, if God wanted me to talk to him, He'd probably provide an opportunity.

2.)  You have to practice the presence of God if you want to see opportunities through His eyes.  Certainly, my experience today was so much better and felt so much more natural.  I prepared for the morning with prayer; I left the house with joy in the Spirit.  As I was walking through the hospital, I made a conscious effort to smile at people and say "hi."  I came to a guy who looked lost and, without even thinking about it, I asked him if I could help him find something.  I gave him directions.  He seemed grateful.  And as he turned to leave I was reminded (perhaps by the Spirit) that I should give him my letter.  And so I did.  Maybe he'll be encouraged or maybe it won't affect him in any way.  Regardless, I felt peace knowing I was obedient to Christ in that moment and, at the very least, I'm pretty sure I gave foolproof directions to Francis 1.

Who will it be tomorrow?

The Cancer Chronicles, #3

*The Cancer Chronicles is a re-posting of blog updates I gave during my initial diagnosis and treatment*

June 6, 2011:

Today is a good day.  Not all have been since the last note, but since I'm feeling well currently and more than capable of writing, I thought I should send out another update.

The complications of the chemo caught up to me over the weekend as I spiked a high fever and required broad-spectrum antibiotics.  I also had a bleeding episode yesterday from the low platelets that has since resolved.  My counts reached their nadir a couple days ago and are already starting to bounce back up, which is good in the sense that I will start feeling better, but  leaves me slightly less confident in a full remission from this first round of chemo than I would be if they had gone even lower.  Ultimately, we will know more Wednesday when we repeat the bone marrow biopsy.  Dr. Doll says it is possible that I may revert to a chronic-phase CML, but that a bone marrow transplant will still be in the cards.  Regardless, the hair officially began falling today (at least from places other than my head, which of course got a head start of many years) 

I learned yesterday that my classmate, Brent Bushman, has had a relapse of his lymphoma and will also require transplant.  Pray for him and his young family.

I have been really blessed and a little surprised by the encouragement people have found in these notes, so I have decided (because I enjoy pondering the things of God anyway and have nothing but time on my hands) to read and reflect on  what suffering is and how we ought best meet it in our own lives while I'm here.  I am reading C.S. Lewis' "The Problem of Pain" currently and will try to relay to you whatever God reveals to me in that.

You should know that I do not consider my current situation to be especially unbearable or tragic or in any way different from any other form of suffering someone might endure.  What I am going through is something everyone goes through in one form of another; and I would much rather find myself the receiver of a particular medical diagnosis (even terminal ones to some degree, as there is nothing as certain in this life as death) than deal with the hopelessness that accompanies some of the less "scientifically-explainable" trials I have seen people face (divorce, miscarriages, addiction, financial strain, mental illness, loss, etc). 

People say that is is easy to believe God loves you when you get a promotion at work or when your relationships are going well or when your family is healthy or whatever... and that is is hard to believe God loves you when bad things happen.  I'm not convinced that this is true; or if it is true, it's certainly not that simple. 

I agree that it may be easier to say God loves you when things are going well, but only when things go badly are we forced to believe in God's love.  The fact that we use "going well" at all as a context for seeing God's love doesn't make much sense to me, as it is itself a concept mostly constructed by the world and is probably not of any real value.  On the other hand, trials and suffering are wonderful opportunities to see God more clearly and to lose sight of the things in life that really don't matter.  After all, I am not sure God, in loving me more than any person can, would have as His goal for me to be rich or happy or even healthy (although these may be things God would want for me, they wouldn't be what He would want most).  God's love is far more concerned with my eternity than my present human condition.  God's love wants the best for me; it wants me to know Him for my own good.

It seems to me that it would be awfully hard to appreciate God's love until you arrive at the point where you desperately need it.  In my life, God's love gives me peace and comfort.  It's not a lifeline.  It's not a crutch.  There's never a guarantee everything will be alright.  God's love is bigger than that; and it certainly need not conform to ideas we have about how the world should be.  It is the awareness I have that God sees me here; that He is aware of my situation and He is using it for good.  I am satisfied to partner with Him through this, knowing it will make me better in any way that matters and that it will bring Him glory if I allow it.

Compassion

Beth and I spent the day yesterday helping out at the booth for Compassion International at the regional Hearts at Home Conference.  It was really a great experience and I think, in total, something like 70 children found sponsors.
I know Beth and I have been blessed by the opportunity to sponsor Iksan, who lives in Indonesia; and I really believe that Compassion is a great ministry that does amazing, life-changing things for children in need around the world.
I was especially touched by the story of a 23 year old girl who has a refrigerator with 7 Compassion children's pictures on it.  She lives sacrificially for the sake of those 7 children because, as she says, she knows she has it far better off than any of them.  And she's right.
If you've ever given much thought to sponsoring a child in need, I'd highly recommend Compassion as an effective and trustworthy avenue.  The relationships you can build with these children are surprisingly personal and will impact you in ways that might surprise you.

To the 70 that committed to bless a child's life and to anyone else that might decide to do the same:

The Cancer Chronicles, #2

*The Cancer Chronicles is a re-posting of blog updates I gave during my initial diagnosis and treatment*

June 1, 2011:

Well, the first round of intense chemo is officially over and things have gone about as well as can be expected.  It has been encouraging to see the University wards from the patient's perspective and I have gained a lot of respect and appreciation for the commitment of the doctors and nurses here on 5 East--they're really top notch and I am proud to have them as colleagues.

Clinically, I've taken the expected and desired response of a leukemic marrow to chemotherapy (now officially neutropenic).  Until my counts rebound I'm very susceptible to infection, which means I can barely leave my room and only then with a mask (serious cabin fever).  All visitors need to be screened and disinfected.  Even the beautiful flowers I've been receiving have to hang out at the nurses' station until we know my immune system is strong enough to handle whatever bugs they might bring with them. 

I continue to be overwhelmed by all the support, prayers, and encouragement of people from literally all over the country.  It convicts me more than you realize to see how easy it is for you all to care about other people, even people you don't know personally or may not have seen in years.  I can learn a lot from many of you about how to better love people.  Special appreciation to my family and my girlfriend, Beth (who got way more than she bargained for in this whole thing but is a constant source of encouragement and an example of Godly dependence).

I still hear occasional frustrations from some who feel that this whole thing "isn't fair" or that God shouldn't put me through this, or whatever.  To you, I can only offer the encouragement of knowing that I am fine.  So if you're mad at God on my behalf, don't be....you actually have no grounds to be, as He's covered me in peace and equipped me well to get through this better off than I was before.  But if you're mad at God more in principle or frustrated with the idea of suffering, I'd encourage you to spend some time in the Word (James, 1 Peter) and in prayer. 

Indeed, there is nothing for me to be angry about.  I can feel nothing but blessed.  In a world that is broken and fleeting, I, like everyone else, am but a vapor--here today and gone tomorrow.  But in an amazing act of grace, God has chosen to show me the truth of how things are, fill me with that wisdom, and place His Spirit in me.  I can't think of a greater place to be.  Pray for the people that do not have this knowledge, and especially pray for the people I should have shared it with.

For my more clinically-oriented friends and colleagues:  The plan is to repeat a bone marrow biopsy in about a week.  I'm continuing the dasatanib (a 2nd-gen Gleevec analog) for presumed, atypical CML.  Have to wait for the marrow to bounce back and see if it behaves like a typical chronic-phase CML or wants to go back into a de novo blast crisis.  Either way, making connections with Mayo now for anticipated BMT.

All for now.

The Cancer Chronicles, #1

*The Cancer Chronicles is a re-posting of blog updates I gave during my initial diagnosis and treatment*

May 27, 2011:

I just want to thank everyone for all the prayers, encouragement, concern, and support.  I appreciate you all and wish I had the time and strength to comfort each of you individually.  But as it is, I think the best way for me to communicate with you all is via periodic, blog-like updates.

So, here's the scoop....

I have leukemia.  I'd like to say that there is some clear medical reason for why this has happened to me, or that it is in some way related to other health problems I've had over the years or that I carry some obvious genetic predisposition to malignancy.  But I can't honestly say any of that.

All I can say for sure--and I want to make certain that this at least is heard--is that I am prepared for whatever happens.  I am prepared physically, mentally, and spiritually.  I trust in God and in His purpose and, in a way that is hard to explain, I feel prepared by God for this trial.  I have a reasonable amount of peace in this whole thing and I desperately want all of you to share in this peace, to grow in faith, and to seek comfort in the Lord. 

My cancer is excessively unique...it has the bcr-abl translocation characteristic of chronic myelogenous leukemia with the pathologic appearance of acute promyelocytic leukemia; the combination does not carry with it an encouraging prognosis.  But even though I know the science behind the disease, I still cannot claim to know what will happen.  Today I learned that my only real hope for a cure is a bone marrow transplant.  But even before that can be pursued I need to achieve molecular remission.  I believe God can and does work miracles and I hope that that is His plan in my case; but if it's not, it means I have a long and difficult road ahead of me.  But I assure you that it will be easier on me than on my family, my girlfriend, and my friends.  Please join me in praying for them.

Who will it be today: The Letter

Here's the premise for a new ministry I'm starting up...

Hi,
My name is Aaron Leppin.  I was praying today for a person to give this letter to and I felt like God might want you to have it.  I don't know anything about you but I know there are some things that God wants you to know about Him.

Firstly, God loves you more than you can imagine.  He cares about your fears and your suffering and your worries.  He wants you to know that even if your human relationships are not fulfilling, that He can provide you with complete comfort and peace.  He wants that sort of intimate relationship with you.

Secondly, Jesus has made a new life possible for you.  If you feel empty or without purpose or if you feel like you're spinning your wheels, Jesus can fix that.  If you feel like you've done too many wrong things or that you are a bad person, Jesus can fix that too.  When you believe in Him and acknowledge what He's done, He will give you the Holy Spirit that will fill your life and change you in unbelievable ways.

Finally, I want to apologize for the Christian Church.  I include myself in this group.  We are called to represent Christ to you and to show you through our love and actions that the things I listed above are true.  I know we don't do that enough and, in many cases, we come across as accusatory and inaccessible.  I am truly sorry about this and encourage you to contact me if you have questions or need to talk.  After all, there is no condemnation in Christ and I want you to know that you are welcomed into His family with open arms and that angels will rejoice in heaven to have you join the fold.

I will be praying for you.

Aaron Leppin
all2x9@gmail.com
660-216-7064
aaronleppinmd.blogspot.com

An Introduction...

Hi.  I'm Aaron.
I graduated from medical school in Missouri in 2011 and moved to Rochester MN to begin residency training at the Mayo Clinic.  Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with leukemia before the ball ever really got rolling in that regard and I received a bone marrow transplant in August of 2011.
I am currently suffering from graft vs host disease and am still unable to work consistently, although I do do some part-time research.
I have recently began to give some serious thought to the idea of writing a book about life and some of the things it's taught me.  This blog will mostly be a place for me to experiment in that arena and, maybe, pick up a follower or two (I hear publishers like that sort of thing).

My First Blog

Well, I think I'm going to give this blogging thing a try for a while.  I suspect I'll mostly be talking to the wind, but that's okay.  I need a place to keep my thoughts.

I suspect this blog (in the event I use it with any consistency) will consist primarily of my random thoughts on faith, medicine, and SEC football.