For some reason, when the clock strikes midnight, I often think about Cinderella.
I imagine her running out of the ball, losing a shoe, and wonder how she felt as she replayed all that had happened during the past few hours with her prince charming.
The most recent 2015 version of the movie definitely plays in my mind as I sit here during the midnight hour, with my shoes off, next to my sleeping prince charming. Unfortunately, I am not wearing glass slippers and this story is all kinds of mixed up.
In all practicality, I know life is not a fairy tale, even though one of my first thoughts this morning was, “what shoes do I wear to my husband’s brain biopsy?”
Moving on, today has been long and stressful, but overall, it has gone well. Josh's brain biopsy happened around noon and he has been recovering ever since. The incision in his hairline is barely noticeable and our evening in ICU has been calm. While we are not out of the woods (at all), we now settle back in and wait a few more days on pathology results to guide our next steps. The doctor felt good about the biopsy but is still not sharing much – which is to be expected.
And yep, it’s still complicated. From what we can tell, the tumor hasn’t changed much in the past week but I’ve noticed Josh is more tired and disconnected. It’s still hard to explain to people, but there is a difference from the regular Josh-operating system and the current version. To make it a bit more confusing, if you call, text or see him in person, he might look normal and tell you he is doing good, but he also might not remember many (or any) details of the conversation you just had – tricky! – I know!
Maybe because it's midnight, but the more I think about it, there are a lot of elements of a fairy-tale here: time clocks, missing shoes, main characters sleeping, feeling like we’re stuck in the woods, an overwhelming sense of hope, and, of course, some fear.
As we begin a new day, our story continues. We are beyond grateful for the love, care, support and prayers. What a privilege it is to have friends both near and far who care so much. Thank you.
Our hearts are full.
We continue to hold tight to the truth that God is with us and that there is much hope to be found in his story and ours, even in the midst of such uncertainty.
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,
so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
- Romans 15:13
In April of 2019, we learned that Josh had a large brain tumor, a glioblastoma, in the middle of his brain. At the age of 41, this was quite the surprise. Josh sadly passed away after a short battle on September 30, 2019.
View his obituary
These past months, we've navigated the complexities of treatment, and hospice care and learned that there wasn't really treatment and that in Josh's case, the tumor was inoperable.
We're sharing our hearts and experience as we navigate this unexpected turn and God's goodness in the middle of it. We hope to encourage others by sharing our story.
Thank you for following along with our journey even in grief.
Feel free to message us.
If you'd like to donate to medical expenses, here's a link or you can email us questions
More about Josh & Jenn
Jenn Brown is the author of this site, a loving wife and communications guru.
Josh Brown most recently served on staff at Fellowship Bible Church in NWA as a Springdale Community Pastor. We've served in ministry in Missouri, Texas, Virginia and Nevada.
Cancer has been big part of our story. Josh has battled cancer three times already with the first to being non-Hodgkins lymphoma at ages 15 and 25 and the third thyroid cancer last year and a GBM, brain tumor this year.
Jenn's mom, Carol passed away from breast cancer 21 years ago and her father also went through treatments for Chronic Leukemia (CLL) in 2017 and is doing well now.
Friends & Family
We have been so encouraged by friends and family. Thank you for the practical ways you are caring for us! We love you all! This is just few photo highlights of some meaningful moments.