So, can you guess what these four have to do with each other? Keep reading! Swirling in my mind these days, I (Joan) am dwelling on these four!

Football – not exactly my forte! But Matthew’s ‘Tim Tebow devotional got me going’. He is an ex-football player for those who don’t know. 🙂 And I had to pray for Jalen Hurts (injured Eagles player) yesterday in the Shepherd’s class I helped in. That is about my extent of football. But back to Mr. Tebow. He wanted Matthew and I to know something about II Cor 1: 3-4 (‘Blessed be the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all affliction….)

Fortitude – not a word I would insert in above verse. But here is what Mr. Football taught me. The word, comfort’ in Latin, is fortis. It means brave, strong, courageous. Not comfort like I have always thought: ‘ease, relaxation, gentle, relief.’  Whoa! This is Mrs. Softee here being thrown for a loop!! So just in case Mr. Football was mistaken, I looked up that word on AI, of course. Definition: ‘mental strength, courage, resilience that allows a person to face danger, pain or adversity, without giving up!”

Ugh! How can I have gotten this so wrong for so long?? I got pain, grief, daily grind that I am ALWAYS looking for comfort (in my definition). But this true Latin word- Wow! Talk about realigning my flimsy girl thoughts to God’s- takes some mental gymnastics and the grace of God! So, the back diagnosis isn’t going so well. Three things going on that are all too complicated to explain and nothing that I have gotten a neurosurgeon to want to touch. So, pain and limitations continue to be my constant companions. And the ripping away of my daughter to eternity continues to plague my broken heart. So having the ‘mental strength and courage to keep fighting on without giving up” new thinking for me. Confidence that I can face the unknown, and say, “God’s got this!” Yes, that can only be done with His strength.

Fun – That is my boy! Turns 14 this week. He threw a party last night and invited 32 people. He allowed me to supply food and gifts. Nice job, Matthew. But the entertainment was all him! Now he wants to open his own studio when he turns 15 or 16. What a guy. He follows that Tebow guy to the hilt! Resilience could be his middle name.  I know Matthew faces challenges every day. Probably only Ron and I know the full extent. But he does NOT give up! My family doesn’t know this yet, so don’t tell them. But I am starting a new tradition this year. Has to do with feathers, turkeys, and words that describe that person. Things to hang on to for the rest of the year when life kicks you in the head and mental strength goes weak. But all that to say, even before AI taught me what fortitude meant, I had given Matthew a resilient word for his fat turkey!

Funeral – Yes, we buried our precious Kari next to her brother Ryan a year ago. Halloween was her graduation day. I miss her like crazy! I live with three men now without the sweet atmosphere of her love. It is an adjustment. Things always seem, loud, sloppy and a little rough. And when ‘comfort girl’ is always looking for quiet, ease, relief and cuddles, I got to keep that true fortis word in the forefront! God’s got this!!

Last evening, August 30, Matthew was baptized. Our hearts are filled with joy.

Ron here – Joan asked me to write something to all of you – all who have been concerned about her back pain, who have been praying, who have been asking. After all, we promised to “update you when we have a clearer picture.” It is now a little more than two months ago that we made that promise. We haven’t broken that promise. We can’t wait for the day when we have a clearer picture! And when we do, we will report it here, as fully as we know how.

Unfortunately, we remain in the dark place of having no answers. Our hope that John Hopkins Neurosurgery would enlighten us has faded. We’re not sure where to go next.

Joan is asking me to write this note in the most encouraging way possible. Frankly, I don’t know how to do that. This back saga is very discouraging for her. It is hard to live with extreme and debilitating pain – especially when it knocks out her mobility. Basically, at this point it seems the only thing left is learning to live with pain and limitations.

It is hard to explain. It is a cycle of mild to moderate pain in the morning, a period or two of some relief during the day, and by end of the day coming to the point of immobility (with many variations on this). I feel a need to say this because those who see Joan in action have no idea, because she pushes through to do the max of what she can, usually with a smile and directing attention away from herself. And here’s the challenge: She doesn’t want the focus on her, she wants to think as little about this as she can, and she just wants to keep serving others (as she has been doing for years). But she can’t – not at that level, and she knows it.

Is the problem that she is in denial, that she should face her pain, slow down, allow others to serve her, and she would be fine? No. it is so much more complicated than that. “Slowing down” to the point of little to no pain isn’t a “thing.” And “slowing down” brings with it a whole other group of complications. Joan is doing the best she knows to survive and to overcome a very difficult situation.

Basically, this is the kind of “update” no one wants to write and no one wants to read. But you will read it because you love Joan and you will keep praying for her. Know too that we aren’t without hope. We’ll keep searching for answers, while realizing that isn’t where our ultimate hope lies.

Joan had her video appointment with the Neurosurgical Spine Center at John Hopkins. They assure us that they want to figure things out, but nothing is clear to them based on a first look at the imaging they received from Penn Medicine. In other words, they aren’t convinced about the “pearl” theory. But, after hearing Joan’s symptoms, they will look again. And they have given us referrals for more imaging, etc.

Many of you have shared that you are praying for clarity. Great prayer, but not one that has yet been answered. So, keep praying.

Not sure where we are emotionally on all of this. Not sure what to think, so don’t exactly know how to feel. Except for literal pain. Joan still feels that, for sure.

We will update you when we have a clearer picture. Really appreciate your support.

First, an apology for our being unclear. Both Joan and I (Ron) post. In the case of the previous post, Joan wrote it and I (Ron) do at least a quick edit. We realized from your responses that some of you thought that I have joined Joan in the world of back pain. I have not (certainly nothing ever near to what Joan is experiencing). No, it was Joan who was sharing.

It is hard to see her in so much pain, especially when it all seems so hopeless, with no answers, with no doctor eager to attempt to help (and for good reason). What we have been told is that “when you can’t walk, let us know and we’ll try to do something.” It has seemed to us that we need to be more proactive. Let’s try to figure out now what the best options are if things get to that point and, who knows, maybe there is someone out there who can give us a better picture than that.

This coming Thursday, we have a video appointment with the Neurosurgical Spine Center at John Hopkins. They have a doctor who specializes in the kind of issue that Joan is experiencing. They’ve been very responsive, reviewed reports and images that we’ve sent, and they agreed to see her (and get her on the schedule quickly).

Thank you for your prayers. We’ll try to do a better job of keeping you updated (and being clearer about which Denlinger we’re talking about – Haha).

Thanks, Ron

When my blog spot goes quiet, you can assume Joan is processing while not profusing. Life is hard! News flash, I am still trying to figure it out.

In February of this year, my back pain and leg weakness and numbness was increasing, forcing me to make my way to a fourth neurosurgeon to again try to evaluate why these symptoms are worsening. After seeing him and following through on completing the numerous tests ordered (took 2 months to complete) – news was in.  Good news: many neurological debilitating diseases were ruled out.  Bad news: the “Pearl of great price” was not.

Before you employ AI to figure out what I am talking about, this is my own name for my diagnosis. My explanation will be brief.

Four years ago, before my spinal fusion surgery, a ‘spot’ was noted on my MRI that seemed right on my spinal cord. Two neurosurgeons at that time were mystified by it. They ruled out cancer and they did not want to surgically investigate it because of the threat that could cause. The unstable spine situation and terrible symptoms I was having below the “spot” was obviously causing problems and was something they could do something about, so the spinal fusion was complete and many of my symptoms were relieved for over a year.

Two years ago, new symptoms began to appear and intensify. Last year’s trip to 3^rd neurosurgeon and round of tests resulted in: my spinal fusion was intact but “spot” still there, but again this surgeon too, did not want to touch it, unless I could no longer walk. I did not pursue what he meant by “no longer walk” and I decided to ‘eat pain’ and continue in the denial walkway that I was traveling.

Pain and denial should not be in same sentence, because when pain grows it cannot be denied. So after seeing 4^th surgeon, the “spot’ which has grown has now turned into ‘my pearl”. All four surgeons ruled out a cancerous tumor, but they believe in “theory’ could bone fragment, that has been floating around my spinal canal and then four years ago decided to lodge itself into the thecal sac which is the thick lining around spinal cord to protect it. Once the bone penetrated the sac, my body decided to respond like an oyster when threatened. It wraps layers of material around the offender. Voila! A pearl is formed.

The problem with my pearl, it comes at a great price. Its growth presses (again, a benign tumor doing same thing has not been ruled out) on my spinal cord causing excoriating pain, numbness and weakness and many other not mentionable symptoms in my future. Since February, my symptoms have been growing at a faster pace than I want to admit.

Surgery to remove my pearl has a 10% chance of being successful which is removal and not causing any further damage and pain free. Ninety percent chance surgery would give three choices: 1 paralysis. 2 worsening pain and paralysis, 3. could require at least two months in ICU and six months to learn to walk again. Hence the “great price”. A bit bleak, scary, hard, and downright depressing. This blog can’t contain the number of emotions and processing and pure lament that has poured out of this clay pot. II Cor 4: 7-9 (please read if not familiar) is where I continue to land, through this “woe is me” saga.

The ‘treasure’ inside this oyster shell is Jesus. The One who has paid a much higher price for me then I can ever pay. His suffering is what gives me the only hope I have I my own suffering. His suffering is the solution to the end of all my physical and emotional pain. This earth doesn’t seem to hold even a candle to the sheer joy that will be mine, when this life is over. Putting my trust in Jesus, who had to die in my place for my sin and suffering, give me the strength, hope, endurance today! My pearl is not without purpose; it is drawing me closer to the One who wants me in his lap!

Pray that days ahead, I have clearer thinking, and a heart set on Christ!

We were incredibly blessed today with the birth of our third grandchild. The icing on the cake was the surprise Jeremy and Sarah had for us this evening when we met her – her middle name! We couldn’t stop crying happy tears.

The door creaked quietly and I heard my son’s clunky gait slip “stealthily” into Kari’s bedroom. “Hmm, I wonder what he is up to now?” It was Sunday morning and I was meditatively sitting on my sofa, staring at the Christmas tree. It is abnormal for me, on a Sunday morning, to be sitting. All of life now seems strange without Kari. For 39 years, getting my children to church has always been a major task – certainly no time for sitting!

“This will be my final podcast from Kari’s room!” My ears perked up. What is he saying into that microphone? Long pause, “Well, maybe this is not Kari’s room because she has one in heaven now!” Long pause…. “NO, this cannot be the final podcast… I need to remember Kari and all that we did together!!!”

He then began telling each one of Kari’s stuffed animals and dolls all the memories that she and he shared during his lifetime. From the living room my tears wouldn’t stop flowing but a precious smile came to my face as I remembered what the children’s hospice counselor had told me. At some point, we may see in Matthew the fear that he may forget his sister. I think I was witnessing this new season on the last Sunday of Advent.

He emerged from the bedroom as I quickly dried my tears. He plopped beside me, microphone in hand, and said, “Mom, I think we should take turns saying everything we can remember about Kari!”

“Good idea, Matthew” I replied. And so that is what we did. My memories could have gone on for the rest of the day, but soon the recording device was packed, and he was ready to move on with his day. I guess he was convinced we won’t forget.

So, if you ask how we are doing this Christmas. I would answer, I think we are doing OK. Grieving as people, who are crazily missing a loved one, should be doing. Shedding tears, expressing memories, and feeling peace and joy deep in the heart even as we ponder life as a smaller family.

And speaking of Advent, Jesus was born to die – to be the sacrifice for our sin. His birth is sweet and all – cute baby, born in a manger, donkey and doves, mean old innkeeper, sweet smelling hay. All of this in the shadow of the cross. Grueling, painful death for me because I am a sinner who can’t take away my own sin. Now that is the ugly.

Of all mamas that have buried their child, Mary would be one that I say has every reason to cry out, “Please, don’t forget my child!”

Kari and Ryan will be forgotten by most, I know that. But I will never forget them. On this final Advent before we celebrate my Redeemer’s birth, I beg you, don’t forget Jesus who not only became flesh, died a horrible death and rose again for me and you. Never forget! And take a moment to receive Him into your heart. “This is not the last podcast, Matthew. We must remember!”

A Blessed Christmas… Til next time.

Translated into modern English: “May God grant you (cause you to have, continue in) peace and happiness.”  

We treasure all the cards and letters we’ve been receiving. They bring comfort and joy to us. Receiving a mixture of sympathy and Christmas cards – reminds us of the mixture of “Congratulations on the birth of a son (Jeremy)” and “our sympathies on the loss of your son (Ryan)” cards – 31 years ago.

The angels told shepherds that they had “news of great joy that will be for all the people.” Included in those “all the people,” were folks like Rachel who refused to be comforted because her children “were no more.” It requires time, love, hope (and more) to come to understand fully our Savior’s rescue from “Satan’s power when we were gone astray,” and its effects, including death itself. This good news grants us the ability to move through these hard days.

2025 was a mixture of pain, sadness, new things and joy.

In February, Joan woke up to severe pain, an abscess within the left side of her face. Immediate surgery was required as the infection could have moved to her brain. Thankfully, she has mostly recovered from that. Later, she battled skin cancer.  Surgery was also successful there (she is still healing).

Coming into the year, Ron’s right eye (his lens implant from years before) was misbehaving. In May, the offending lens was removed. Thankfully, it turns out that he didn’t need a follow up surgery.

Matthew continues to be challenged by the effects of his traumatic brain injury at infancy but seeks to build on his strengths, especially music. He takes voice and French horn lessons. He also attended a weeklong acting camp – culminating in a few key roles in the Kids musical version of Finding Nemo. His greatest contribution was a strong voice (always on pitch, always coming in on time) which helped lead the other children.

At the end of September, we had a big backyard birthday party, complete with a live bluegrass band. We celebrated 93 years (Dad) and 39 years (Kari).       

Shortly after Kari’s death in October, Joan’s dad survived a face plant. The LGH ER did a great job of treating his nose – no follow up surgery required. Less than a week later, our granddaughter Elia was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It is sad to see her face this. At the same time, we are amazed at what a trooper she is.

A highlight of our year was attending Joni and Friends Family Retreat in the Poconos. The health of each of us was stable enough that we were able to greatly enjoy it. We are so happy that our retreat had a Christmas theme to it – an early Christmas with Kari part of it. And therefore, the reason we have a 2025 Denlinger Christmas photo that includes her.

Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas…

O tidings of comfort and joy!

A dear relative, after reading our most recent post, wrote to Joan and me: “Your family’s experiences over the last week are too hard and sad.”

It does feel that way! It makes me wonder: Are we in a good place, a safe place, when the trials compound and feel like too much?

There was a guy named Agur who prayed:  

“give me neither poverty nor riches;
    feed me with the food that is needful for me,
lest I be full and deny you
    and say, “Who is the Lord?”
or lest I be poor and steal
    and profane the name of my God.” (Prov 30:8,9)

I’m thinking I could pray something similar about trials:

“If I don’t have any hardships, stress or trials in my life…
    That wouldn’t be good for me. I wouldn’t grow and besides,
   I could conclude that I don’t need you – ‘I got this.’
But if I have too many trials…   
I could become disappointed with you and question your goodness,
    And perhaps ‘unsubscribe’ from some aspect of your role in my life.”

Both Dobson (“When God Doesn’t Make Sense”) and Yancey (“Disappointment with God”) have written books about this. A season of grief isn’t just hard, it is also dangerous. We barely have two gray cells to rub together. We can make bad decisions. It is at such times when many walk away from the faith. But we don’t want to do that, not even a little bit. We need all of God’s love through every means that he would provide. We don’t want to turn from him, but to stay close – even when we don’t understand. Besides, like Peter expressed, where else would we go? Jesus is the one who offers real life. And therefore, we must continue to subscribe to life in him.

Our relative concluded with her prayer for us. No doubt it is the kind of prayer that many of you are praying for us – one that is so precious to us. “We pray for God’s grace and strength to uphold you through grief and stress.”

Thank you for that prayer and all your prayers and all the words of encouragement and concern!

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