Day one of our journal.

This is Daniel Paul Hedlund. He is a fine-looking young man. Thank you very much. I'm going to let you take over. Well, I just figured I'd do some journal entries so that, basically--I don't know--everybody can--I can have something to look back on. December 18, 2007. Well, the long-awaited doctor's visit finally came today. Daniel was diagnosed with cancer on Thursday. Although it was a little overwhelming, we were all very calm and felt at peace. We know that we could never do this without the help of our Father in Heaven. And we are so very grateful for all of your prayers on our behalf. I remember as soon as he said the words "You have cancer," I just dropped my head and started crying and hung up the phone after talking with him. He told me it was at stage four. Well, they didn't know at that time it was a type of bone cancer. I hung up the phone and turned around and realized my wife hadn't heard any of that dialogue between me and the doctor. So Melanie was looking at me, and she saw the tears coming down my face. And this caused her to, of course, start crying. And I had to sit next to her and tell my bride of three weeks that her new husband had cancer. The first time, as our world was kind of spinning out of control, it was real easy, I think, to right away realize that I'm not really in control of what happens to me. It's Heavenly Father. April 29, 2008. We met with my doctor today to find out the pathology results of the tumor. Well, the results are in. My tumor was 100% dead. July 15, 2008. Well, we've all been praying for a miracle, and it is unfolding. I'm sitting here watching Dan sleep, and I'm overcome with gratitude that he is here with me. Sometimes I wonder if I would have had this much joy every night from just watching him sleep if Daniel had never gotten sick. Anybody that is a cancer survivor and that still goes in for scans can relate to this. You go in, and it's like you enter this revolving glass door. And it either spits you out on one side of it--you're safe for another three months--or it spits you out on the other side of it, where you're not safe and you have to do more treatment. February 18, 2010. Daniel's cancer has returned. Dan and I went home, and immediately my reaction was, "What lesson did I miss? Or what did I fail to do last time that I need to do this time?" Then my wise husband reminded me that sometimes tests are not about passing or failing. Heavenly Father is not sitting up there with a checklist and pen while we're enduring a trial. I know that there's no such thing as coincidence, and everything has happened for a reason. I know that the purpose of coming here is to grow and learn. March 11, 2011. They found cancer in my lungs for the third time. I remember reading the scriptures on one occasion. And I was reading the story in the New Testament where the Savior is asleep in the ship, and there's a tempest that comes up, a big storm. And His Apostles are worried that the ship is going to capsize and that they'll all drown. And so they awake the Savior, and they say, "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" And I stopped reading right there, and I thought to myself, "Carest thou not that my wife and I want to start a family? Carest thou not that I'm tired of doing this? Carest thou not that we want to continue our lives?" And that was exactly the way I felt: "Carest thou not that we perish?" And then I continued reading, and the Savior's response to His disciples was, "O ye of little faith." And He stretched forth His hand, and He calmed the tempest. And I had to ask myself in that moment, "Do I believe this actually happened? Do I believe that Christ calmed the waters that day?" And I do. And because I believe that, I know He can calm the tempest going on inside my body. You know, I have the faith that Dan will be fine and that we'll be great. But do I have the faith that if it's not, that I'm still going to be OK? And that's a really hard thing. But I'm trying because I know, as I try to get closer to that goal of that kind of faith, to be OK with whatever happens, I know it brings comfort. I know that Christ lives. I know that He is my Savior. I know that our Heavenly Father is a loving Heavenly Father and that the things and the experiences that He gives us in this life will pay dividends in the life to come.