Gifts

I feel so smashed this morning, and it feels so good.

We have been on the road travelling to Cleveland and Columbus too much these past three weeks. We have been busy trying to get caught up a little bit here at home - Scott has done an awesome job of housekeeping this past year - but there were some things that just needed "done".

We've had poor health for so long, that these last few days of "feeling better", feel really good.  And it feels good to work at something.  My brain still has a lot of cobwebs - still a lot of confusion, a lot of "not-knowing" when I should know things - but it is working better.

Our son got us a shared, what I call "walkie-talkies" on steroids, and he texted his dad this morning telling him he had hid his walkie-talkie in their Christmas tree.  Popop readily obliged and started talking - saying things like he was the Christmas tree talking.  The twins were amazed, scared then finally knowing who was really talking - scolded him.  It was all pretty hilarious.

So life seems to be full of the normal, ordinary pleasures again.

Plus, we feel as if we have just been handed another gift.

My physical therapist had instructed me a couple of months ago to massage my incision site to release scar tissue.  I had been doing that - doing everything/anything to give my arm and muscles some relief when they had clamped up tight the week after my fourth chemo treatment - and while doing that massage two weeks ago, I... found... lumps... on... my... ribs.

Life slowed, then stopped again.

As I had been doing this a couple of times each day, I was pretty familiar with how everything should feel, and I knew that first lump had not been there the day before.  Then there were two, then three.  All on the bones.  All not painful.  All making me completely sick in my soul again.

At that time, I was just three weeks out from my last chemo, just barely getting back to eating and feeling better some, so the logical side of my brain said it was too close to chemo to be a bone cancer lump.  The side of my brain that is not so logical, just freaked out.

I couldn't even tell Scott at first - he has been too sick with his gall bladder and trying to work to have anything more put on his plate.  I didn't tell my kids at first.  It's too close to that same time of year again.

I was scheduled for my radiology set-up CT scan in two days, so I called my oncologists, and we all agreed we would have a look at the scan.  My radiologist-oncologist, examined the lumps, asked me if I had looked at them in a mirror - I said no - and she said she could see them easily through my skin and that they were substantial; then found another one on my sternum that she was more concerned about.

She promised me she herself would show me the CT scan when I was done and go over every little rib in my body together.  

It was a long appointment - I was there for three hours.  I now have four dot-tattoos, road mapping where to place the radiation when I start.  After the scan, she called me into the "look" room, and showed me my bones.  She told me a radiology prep CT scan is not a diagnostic scan, but that my bones looked good, and that I should tell the part of my brain that was freaking out, that the logical part of my brain was correct - and not to worry.

She showed me a few other things that were of concern, then told me to go home, breathe a big sigh of relief, and live again.

I did --  until my oncologist called and said she wanted a full body scan done asap.

The logical side of my brain knew it had looked at my bones with my very own eyes, and was satisfied, but the freaking side of my brain was full of questions, and full of dread again.

So many times this year, I've had a chance to realize that my life could be short.  I've had a chance to review, and repent, and be joyful all at once realizing what blessings I've had.

I took time to mull over in my brain what my response would be if I were told I had to do more chemo.  I've had nine months of chemo this year, and it has altered my brain, altered my thinking, altered my body, altered my health - and - altered who I am.

I was not sure what my response would have be if told that I needed to step into that brutal, fenced in fighting arena again.

I took time to mull over in my brain what my response would be if I was told I would be meeting God soon.

It didn't help that my scheduled whole body scan was on my "anniversary date" - the same day I had found last year that I had cancer.

Four years ago, Scott had a life threatening illness and then surgery that same day.

December has not been a traditionally good news month for us.

It was a long several days of reflection, and crying before God, and giving it over to Him time and time and time again.

And strangely, there was joy in it all.  If this was "my time", I knew that even though there were a lot of things not accomplished, a lot of things left undone, a lot of things not said, a lot of things that would be missed, I also had a deep knowing that I had received more in my lifetime than I could ever be properly thankful for - I knew that God had blessed me with things that others beg Him to gift to them.

In some sense of it all - I could lose everything in a moment.  In another sense of it all - I had been given everything and more.

My brain and my soul agreed on it all.

***

My sweet doctor had put in a rush on the whole body scan - so after my dye injection at OSU at 8:30am Friday morning, then my actual scan close to noon - they rushed the results to her at the Center - she had answers by our appointment time at 2pm.  God bless that woman - she, as well as I, did not want to be placed once again in the "holiday-skip" - that time of year when medical staffs are cut in half with everyone taking vacation time - it's the most difficult time of the year to get in, get tests done, and the worst time to wait for and get answers.

She gave me a big hug when she walked into the exam room.  She said hello to Scott, who has been notably missing the last couple of weeks as he has used up too many sick days.  She then told me that my scan turned up the same thing as my first and second scans - a couple of bad discs in my lower back - and arthritis - and NO CANCER GROWTHS!

She thinks it is scar tissue.  I'll take that.

My body literally shuddered with relief.  It was scary, it was a time of faith stretching, it was soul searching and soul readying - it was all of those feelings, tense muscles and recoiling, afraid of the news, yet ready for whatever may come - it was all released in one sentence out of her mouth.

Scott and I smiled widely with relief.

I asked her how I should determine in the future what to be concerned about - and she answered "you don't - you come to me!"  She said she didn't know until she got the scan herself.

My brain told me that God was saying the same thing - "you don't know - you come to Me!"

***

Throughout this whole dilemma, when I was finally feeling better in December, I decided it was time to renew my drivers license that had expired on my birthday in November.

I was denied.

They told me at the BMV that my Social Security name did not match my name on my expired driver's license.  Therefore, I could not renew.  I was told if I did drive and was to encounter a police officer for any reason, like say speeding or some such thing, I would be "taken in", and my car would be towed and impounded.  No questions asked.

Then they dropped the big bomb - I had to go to the nearest Social Security office and get my name straightened out.

In my brain there are some things in life I deem more pleasurable - like poking an ice pick in your eye, or pulling off fingernails.  I had tried several times after our house fire in 1995 to correct this problem and it was not *correctable* for a lot of years...... I had just given up and my recent tax returns reflect that - my name is hyphenated with my maiden name to get them accepted.

It's difficult to reflect God in such times.

Soooooo........ last week, Scott was finally able to pretend like he was driving me, and off we went to our nearest SS office more than 45 minutes away, early one morning.

Upon walking in the door, Scott was immediately told by the security officer to either dump his coffee - or take it back out to the car - there was no food or drink allowed in the building.  And according to their tv announcements - no cell phone use as well.

We dutifully took our number, sat down, and waited.  Scott complained a little too loudly about his coffee, as it was his first coffee since his surgery and he had intended on enjoying it if nothing else that day..... all the while, my intellect was telling me that we were stepping down into the abyss once more, and the pointers all seem to be pointing to the fact that I might never drive legally again.

Then we were called up and surprises of surprises, encountered a most pleasant young man.  And helpful.  And kind.  This was NOT the  same Social Security office that we had navigated trying to get five new identity cards seventeen years ago.  They were helpful.  He gave me a piece of paper to enable me to get my license.

He sent me to the Richland County BMV.  We went in, took a number and sat down.  They smiled and said their computers had just gone down and they had no idea how long it would be.  While I re-positioned myself for the long haul, half of the room cleared out.  Then, miracles of miracles, the computers were back up again.

I was out of there with a drivers license in less than 30 minutes.  We went back to SS to show them my new drivers license so they could correct the name error (I know - crazy, huh?) and it went incredibly smooth.  Incredibly well.  Incredibly, we were out of there all said and done between the two agencies within three hours.

That is unheard of.  I'm still in shock over it all.  I have literally spent hours and hours and hours and days and days trying to correct this problem over the years.  I have notes attached to our marriage license.  It appears according to those notes that I was close to being suicidal after a "talk" in 2004.  So, I am extra relieved to note that even though I was there the day of our wedding, now Social Security admits it as well......

***

We are not anyways near ready for our feasting and family tomorrow.  But, I've decided we have done what we could, they are all helping and bringing something and cooking and baking, so we can just cozy down and wrap some presents tonight.  And maybe actually put some lights on the tree that Scott put up before his surgery.

I didn't get any Christmas cards out, even though we have greatly enjoyed getting them and hearing from a lot of folks we don't get to see very often.

My shopping has not even happened this year.  I couldn't even get out to the grocery store the first week Scott was home - I had a few appointments, he wasn't feeling well, so we just continued eating tomato soup and canned tuna, which is what kept him alive the previous six weeks, and I had subsisted on it quite a bit this year, so it was all good.

Friends of ours brought us out a meal, and it tasted so good.  My taste buds are awakening again, Scott was feeling some better, so it was just the perfect low-fat food, at the perfect time.  We ate and enjoyed it immensely.

Everything has been put under a microscope in matters of importance.  Some things just aren't so important any longer.  Clean bathrooms rank high in our house, this past year especially, and other than that, the rest is all ok.

I don't even have a wreath on our door.  I don't know where they were put last year in the garage.

But we are overwhelmed with God's grace and mercy washing over us.  We are resting in His grace and peace.  He has given us so much - we have each other, kindnesses, goodness, the taste of good food being introduced into both of our diets again, and the greatest gift of all - His presence.

And, I sincerely hope I would be saying that even if my test results came back differently.

We don't know what the future holds, but for now, we are resting in His care.  In a little over a week, I start radiation and the drives to Columbus daily or staying over, so we hope to savor this time together, both recovering together.

We plan to have a Merry Christmas tomorrow with everyone.  We plan to let them all spoil us.  We plan to just not worry.  We plan to remember how good it is to have loved ones to help and support and care.

We plan to listen to five little girls screaming with delight, playing, crying, playing some more - and we can't wait.

Scott's folks are excited to give the girls their gifts - each year they get them all incredibly cute dresses.  We are excited to give our gifts in the spirit of love like never before. (thank you Amazon.com and free delivery!!)  The girls are so excited about giving to one another.  There have been so many "secrets" and planning on how to give, what to give, and card making, and lavished love over it all.

Scott and I are so very tired, but so very happy at the prospect of being all together and being happy.  Money is a side issue on those days.  Snowy roads don't matter so much.  Laying on yet another narrow table being radiated once again is just a short-term dim memory.  Life is now, today, and there will be plenty of time when it's all over to be too tired to enjoy it all.

It will be the most extraordinary, simplest of holidays ever.

And we think it all so great to be here joyfully enjoying it all.

Scott news

Just a short note to let folks know that Scott is !!**home**!!  His gall bladder surgery went well today, despite his surgeons original misgivings about the scar tissue build up that he has from his previous two surgeries.  He was able to go in a different "route" - just a few inches east of his 18 inch long scar - and still remove it laproscopically, and then as a bonus, also cut two lesions from his scar tissue that had attached to his intestines, possibly causing some problems as well.

It was all good.

I cannot tell you how happy I am to have him home tonight and how blessed I feel.  Scott, not so much right now, but maybe by the weekend he will be feeling better.

And, I know a lot of you were concerned about me possibly driving today, and I feel doubly blessed to say our good friend, and house pastor, Jim, drove us.  It was a pleasure to have him there today to just sit with - someone else who loves Scott as well.  We left pretty early this morning - he was here just after 5am - and said he didn't mind at all.  (And the only thanks he got was that I bought him a long awaited coffee....)  

Blessed art thou, Lord God our King, who breathes life into the sick.

Bone piles

Beth Shemesh.

I have listened to one particular teaching for almost two weeks.  I should have it memorized by now, but my brain's not rolling that way at this point in my life.

After wandering for forty years in the desert, Moses - who knew he was not stepping one toe into the Promised Land - once again implored the people with a long speech that some say took 39 days, to obey God and do what He told them to do.  The people agreed and said "We will do what God commands!"

When the tribe of Dan went into the Promised Land, their area of tribal inheritance was next to the coastal plains, which was full of Philistines.  A whole land full of Philistines about, oh, three miles away.  They were in a constant battle with their close proximity neighbors and were basically holding the door, being the "gateway" to the rest of Israel.

The "battle" seemed to take on two fronts - one was of course physical and that included full front on battles or if you were travelling with a small group of people and were suddenly caught by the raiding parties of the Philistines, you might have wished to be turned over to the Shawnees in North America.  

But the battle had another front as well - it was the clash of cultures.  The Israelites had been wandering for over a generation of people in a wilderness and the tribe of Dan were especially set up for a close and in depth study of what looked to be a very sophisticated culture just next door.  The Philistines in my mind never got past the cave-man-looking-Goliath idea - and yet archaeology says they were at that point more sophisticated than the Hebrews.  They used iron.  Their paganism allotted them a lot more fun.  They just had better "stuff".

How could good God fearing folks keep looking away when - wow - there was a lot of "stuff" going on right down the road - you could look and just see it all - it was that close.  Some pagan temples had Amsterdam "freedoms" beat by miles and miles.

They were stuck between the coastal plain three short miles away and the Judah mountains right behind them.  On the coastal plain were the powerful Philistines.  Dan could not retreat, and constantly faced the pressure of the Philistines.

It got to be too much.  After a bit of time the tribe of Dan decided "OIY! we cannot continue to do this", so they sent out spies to another city in the mountains, which is where a lot of the Israelites had fled for protection from their not-too-happy new neighbors.

The spies landed upon a city north to Mount Herman, Laish, and the whole tribe picked up everything, slaughtered the residents of Laish and moved in - leaving their tribal inheritance.

Dan moved from being the cozy neighbors of the Philistines, which they thought wholly too much to bear, to being the first city upon entering Israel on the Via Maris, the major trade route of the day basically connecting much of the then world.  And northern armies marching along to invade anyone they took a fancy to take....

Kind of like moving from Cinnamon Lake to Polaris Parkway.  Or moving from Polaris Parkway to downtown Jerusalem.

I don't know what they were thinking.  To leave their God-given inheritance - the one thing that God gave them - thinking they couldn't take the campfire heat, to an iron furnace stoked and red hot.  

But this is the part that I love and cannot get past without pausing it and playing it over and over:  "The point that the Jewish Rabbis make on this bit of history, is if you don't work and struggle where God places you, no matter how good it looks somewhere else you always move into a worse situation.  You are better off with struggle and pain where God wants you, than to try and go where it is wonderful where you are not called to be.  

Dan has always attested to what happens to a people who will not persist and intensely follow God under pressure and stress and pain, and instead try and go somewhere else.  You've got to be where God calls even if the struggle is there."  (Ray Vanderlaan)    

Looking up the history of the city of Dan, it might have been better for them to just cozy up to the Philistine border and stand firm.

I cannot get past this, because that seems to be where God has placed me.  And I cannot describe it better.  I've got to "be" where God calls, even if the struggle is "there".

I want to retreat to the mountains.  I want to go where it looks "more wonderful".  But, that's not where God placed me.  And this is something I just can't escape and walk away from.

***

The reason the teaching was titled "Beth Shemesh" was - and forgive my brief paraphrase here - was because as archaeologists have dug up this city, they found the local garbage dump and layers of bones.  Hebrews don't eat pigs.  So the idea was to find out how much the local Hebrews had influenced their world for God by the amount of pig bones they found.  (the tribe of Dan and it's inheritance was just a side-bar reference in this teaching)

During the time of Sampson - who was set up to be something really big for God, but ended up poorly with his eyes gouged out by the Philistines and chained between two pillars, he didn't make the best choices in life - but at the time of Sampson the amount of pig bones found in the leftover food places was 25%.  At the time of Solomon, much less.  At the time of King Hezekiah - none.

No matter what you think about the idea of eating pigs, or such, I kind of wondered what would be the measuring rod today of my influence on my society for God.

I can measure other's influence especially this year - because of what they have done for no other reason than to help those that are sick.

Our yard was mowed at least once a week since spring by a lawn service.  Paid for by a former employer, who was in a  lot of ways closer than family to me.  He has four kids that need money put into college funds - but he still did it.

He doesn't go to any church.  He doesn't spout off 'Christianize', or worthless Christian cliches.  Yet he is one of the most "do-the-right-thing" people I know.  I watched him make a lot of hard decisions as a new business owner that were really hard, and I watched him always try to do the right thing with each decision.

I never had to lie for him when I worked for him.  

We have received a weekly gift card in the mail for either gas or groceries.  Anonymously.  At first it drove me crazy trying to figure out who it was.  But now I just pray blessings over them daily.  Better than the gift card, wrapped around it are phrases of encouragement sent on simple white sheets of paper telling me to stay in the fight, to not give up.

I cannot tell you how many times that has made us smile on the most difficult of days.

My brother-in-law in Oregon forwards me emails - sometimes it's a "funny"; sometimes it's beautiful pictures of places that are eye-candy to the soul; sometimes it has a political bent; but it always reminds me that someone believes that I am still alive and open emails.

Well, not always immediately  but eventually.

***

So I wonder what we will be measured by when we all stand before the throne?  What will be our "pig bones"?

I was talking to my friend Morven the other day, and it seems that sometimes people are so wrapped up in "church" and their major beliefs that are taught to them, that they have little time for the actual Scriptures and the living out of the teachings therein.

It's easy to be so busy with work and church and our "ministries" - to be too busy to actually live out what God intended us to do - to face our struggles, and do good to others.  

I'm afraid I have a whole backyard of pig bones to be dug up.  I have a lot of restructuring to do in my own life.  (and pig farmers, just an FYI - Ray Vanderlaan has millions of videos all over the world about the ancient Hebrews and the Torah and how important it all is to us today -- all because his grandparents sold their pig farm and gave him money to go to school in Israel.... isn't life full of irony at times??)

***

I do know we all have differing levels of what is good.  I spent some time with my two favorite five year olds and ended up helping them clean up their rooms some.  We ended up digging things out from under their beds and at one point I said "what the heck??!!"  when encountering some items, like spoons and 'Gogurts' wrappers and such.

In fact, I think sweet Zoe would love to be a burrowing animal - she might be able to live under her bed if the shadows she sees at night, that she so earnestly and honestly tells me about, do indeed become real.

But I was immediately, and almost sternly, corrected.  "You don't say "heck", Grandmumsy!"

And here I thought I was being good by redirecting a word.......

But I know in the land of the sick, the kindest things are the things others have to "do".

And I am most miserable at it myself, so I cannot tell you how much that makes me appreciate it all the more.

But it was great to help them clean up a little - it helped me get back involved in their lives.  They come visit me, but I don't realize until I spend time in their rooms what is really important in their lives.  I don't know what stuffed animal is most dear to them and gets top billing on top of their beds.  I don't know what toys they are tired of, and what ones they desire.  I don't know how creative they are until I see things they have made or designs they like, or the nests they make under their beds for "safety's" sake.

I don't know their little hurts at school until they work beside me for an hour and talk.  I don't know their horrors of tree branches that make bad shadows at night.  I don't remember how much they need to be hugged and told how special God made each of them and how much I love them.

So I was kind of digging in their own "bone pile", and I really, really hope I helped them and that somehow I reflect goodness and kindness and God to them in ways they can grasp.

And I won't say "heck" around them anymore......