I cried so much last evening that my nose is raw and tender this morning. I am putting chap stick on it to help it heal.
I have seen God this weekend, and am barely able to process it or move beyond.
But one thing is for sure - I am in love with the color pink again. Clouds of pink color. That pink cloud had a tag on it.
It said "Love you!"
*******
I wish I could paint you a picture of a *community* that has decided to show what it means to live the Kingdom of God here on earth.
Snippets show up in my brain and I need someone to let me know what happened, help me remember - please email me - because I was drugged up a little to be able to show up for a while, and it's all kind of a blur.
When I walked in the doors the other night, after talking to some, I sat in the stage room behind the curtain. Chloe and Zoe found me and jumped up and down holding my hands and said "Grandmum! Grandmum! Do you know this is a big, big party for you!!??"
They told me about the decorations on the tables. Addy was there by then and she told me about the "lot's and lot's of food!!" They, like me, like Scott, like everyone else, were a little stunned and a lot awestruck.
I pray that they never forget the fact that a community of people came together around us and set about taking care of us. I pray they never forget what the love of God and a lot of hard work put together produced. I pray they remember seeing first hand the Kingdom of God here on earth.
I pray they remember that God was reflected in such a way that no one walking in those doors could help but notice.
*******
My son texted me yesterday and said Chloe had made up a list of rules for parties and "special lunches":
Number 2 is "balloons on all of the tables".
Number 5 is "everyone gets hand sanitizer so no one gets sick."
But she remembers a pretty glorious event and wants to make up a list on how to replicate it. They all loved it - they played in the gym and had great fun. They ate lots of food. They felt the love all around them.
So she wants all that again. That's awesome.
*******
The parts I remember, are flashes of people I had not seen for ever so long - all in pink t-shirts. I saw kids that I knew when they were babies on stage leading, or serving, or helping. I saw dear people that were there in my "community" when I started my 'God-journey' way, way long ago. They saw all of my big spiritual mistakes and they still love me.
When I get pictures, I will tag names and tell stories. How God has woven them throughout my life is crazy incredible.
But Bill and Nat were there, and Bill in his pink t-shirt walked up and gave me a big hug. They were the first ones to involve us in a Christian Community of sorts. They were starting a new Adult Bible Fellowship in a large local church, and invited us. Over and over again. They had us in their home so many times I knew where to put away dishes in their kitchen while we cleaned up. We stayed up one New Year's Eve and watched the Beatle's Yellow Submarine and played cards all night. We left at like six in the morning.
That group they started grew and became the "Messenger's". We were kind of the young marrieds class in the church that the whole congregation might have held it's breath every time we "tried something new". We were kind of crazy and young and had lots of energy then.
It included a lot of other people that will forever be family to me. We were close to each other, loved each other, tried to figure out God with each other and had a lot of fun the whole time.
They were all there to love on me some more.
*******
I saw others in just snatches - there were my various work communities - Cindy organized and set up a dessert buffet and bake sale that I am told was out of this world. I hear Fred and some others kept bidding things up that people were paying double what they were worth. Bill Harvey (his name is one word to me and a lot of others) did a lot of behind the scenes activities that he doesn't have time to do during tax season. Steph is keeping our accounts. She and Beth also work crazy long hours during tax season. They were there.
I am hearing the stories trickle in and I am ever more becoming more dumb-founded, sit down amazed. (I mean how do you get an updated ticker tape on a web page like that from someone who is not getting paid to sit there and do only that??)
And I cannot, cannot tell you enough about a House Church that thinks up some pretty big things and can get them done. Jim and Lee Ann are long time dear friends, but Cathy and the others don't know me as well. Their faith was simple enough - yet big enough - to feel that they "just needed to do what the Bible said". But the love they have poured out and the time they have taken and the resources they have tapped and shared to do this is nothing short of amazing.
They learned Shalom, and they share Shalom, and they proved you can help others live Shalom within Chaos. (And, I don't think I will soon forget, Ted and Steve and some of the other guys especially showing me their pink t-shirts. I don't think they wear that color very often....)
I don't know what to say, except there is only one way it could have all come together. They get it. They get what God commanded and the rabbis say over and over again - and my Rabbi-Savior-Jesus taught when He was here on earth again: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your might. And love your neighbor as yourself."
I cannot explain it any other way.
*******
And this is just the start of the story. I have been given armfuls and armfuls of material to write about - so you might as well get some popcorn, sit back and enjoy people.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
w.o.w.
Dearest friends ~
I have no words. What you have done for me is priceless beyond the money, beyond the benefit it will provide us financially ~ what you have done is miraculous. I have never seen anything like it.
In many ways you have obeyed the command "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends."
You have laid down your lives, pouring it out as a sacrifice for our benefit. For months you have been busy about things that would help us, carry us, guard us, keep us and provender us. Laying your lives aside willingly to accomplish all of this.
It is overwhelming and we are in disbelief.
What Hath God Wrought?
I will never forget the sight of the Kingdom of God working here on earth when I walked through those doors Friday night.
We know that we can never say a proper "Thank-you" - but that is all we are feeling the last 48 hours - gratefulness and thankfulness and fullness and great light in the midst of darkness.
My friend Morven said everyone should get the chance that I had Friday night - everyone should get a chance once in their lives to see how others care for them.
Or said another way, a portion of the final email sent out for all the volunteers, on which we were included:
See you tomorrow.
I still don't know what to say, I'm still in shock.
But, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am still processing - but thank you for being light and shade and shelter and sanctuary for us. Thank you for being selfless and giving so much of yourselves. Thank you for 'keeping' us.
We are humbled beyond words.
Thank you.
I have no words. What you have done for me is priceless beyond the money, beyond the benefit it will provide us financially ~ what you have done is miraculous. I have never seen anything like it.
In many ways you have obeyed the command "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends."
You have laid down your lives, pouring it out as a sacrifice for our benefit. For months you have been busy about things that would help us, carry us, guard us, keep us and provender us. Laying your lives aside willingly to accomplish all of this.
It is overwhelming and we are in disbelief.
What Hath God Wrought?
I will never forget the sight of the Kingdom of God working here on earth when I walked through those doors Friday night.
We know that we can never say a proper "Thank-you" - but that is all we are feeling the last 48 hours - gratefulness and thankfulness and fullness and great light in the midst of darkness.
My friend Morven said everyone should get the chance that I had Friday night - everyone should get a chance once in their lives to see how others care for them.
Or said another way, a portion of the final email sent out for all the volunteers, on which we were included:
What
an example of the Kingdom you are. What a glorious, beautiful picture
of what eternity holds for all of us. No fussing, no fighting.
Selflessness, kindness, generosity.
Yes,
the Gerwig's are in Egypt right now. But God is executing judgment on
the gods of Egypt. Cancer, fear, anger, despair, loneliness, isolation,
pain, nausea, neuropathy, the unknown. In this journey, He has used us
to shine light in the darkness. These gods will be judged, and they
shall not prevail.
We are destined to win.
I still don't know what to say, I'm still in shock.
But, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am still processing - but thank you for being light and shade and shelter and sanctuary for us. Thank you for being selfless and giving so much of yourselves. Thank you for 'keeping' us.
We are humbled beyond words.
Thank you.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
How did they know??
When I first started chemo treatment, I was smashed. 'They' talked about a "chemo-blast", and it has been only after my chemo *vacay* and then subsequent chemo dose reduction the last two weeks that I have realized just how much I was *blasted* those first three months.
Think garden hose spray versus power wash.
But those first couple of weeks, I was still under the illusion that I was going to work. I missed more than half the month of January, then tried to go in the first week of February, and realized quickly that even if I could nicely talk my body into a little cooperation and haul it into my desk, my brain was not in agreement. It just wasn't going to work. It informed me that if I so chose to fill it full with steroids and harsh chemicals, that it was *quitting*.
And it did. I am truly afraid to check my work quality those couple of days.
My body kind of had a hissy-fit as well. On top of all the other symptoms that accompany chemo, I could not sit down easily due to some pretty odd and intense abdominal pain. My internal organs were screaming at me nine-tenths of the time to just STOP whatever it was that was causing their intense unhappiness.
But I was going to work.
I kept texting my boss Ducia that I was not able to make it 'this' day, but hoped I would be there the 'next' day. All of my careful pre-emptive planning I had scurried to put together the first week of January was coming down to the point that I could not keep payroll taxes and payroll and accounts payable current with just a couple of hours here and there.
Ducia finally called me one day, and I knew when I saw the caller ID what was going to happen. She told me what I knew needed to happen, knew was going to happen but could not make myself willing to say the words.
She kindly and gently told me I was being placed on a leave of absence.
She knew before I could say it, believe it, what I was going to need.
How did she know the proper time?
*******
I have to confess - we have some pretty awesome friends.
This Friday night, they are putting on a benefit for me.
I was not sure how to feel about this when they first talked about it. I work for a non-profit and I know how hard it is to raise funds, how much work it takes to put on a fundraiser.
It's a lot of man-hours that are never repaid nor fully appreciated.
But they took that on willingly. And enthusiastically.
They knew our past history with hospitals and bills and how it had chiseled and chipped away what should have been a solid granite financial under-girding at our age. It had sent us almost to the point of having to sell our home. Or worse. We are driving one 'half' car that was built in 1998. The other car is 10 years old.
We had slashed our budget to 'make it through'. For a long time.
Then came cancer.
I was brought up by parents that grew up during the Depression. My brain struggled with the idea that people were going to donate money. I struggled with the fact that there were a lot of people going to be doing a lot of work. I struggled with the fact that this was me, not someone else. I struggled with the proper response to it all.
I still do.
Most of it has been kept secret from me, because they know I would freak if I knew it all.
But the parts I do know, make me marvel. There is a network built around this benefit that has dumbfounded me. They have accomplished what some people get paid a lot of money to do for large organizations and such.
They have donated themselves, their time, their resources, all to make sure I am taken care of.
I am humbled beyond knowing what to do. They are showing the Kingdom of God in a way I have never personally seen it acted out on earth before. They are living it.
All because they said "God wanted them to do this."
I wasn't sure all of this was going to be "needed". When it comes to pride, I can lie to myself as well as the next person. Scott was talking to me last week, and he mentioned "you do remember you have to have surgery next year, too, right?"
I had forgotten that my "packaged chemo treatment plan" had changed several times, and that I was now more than likely going to need radiation and chemo after surgery, requiring a second and who knows how many more surgeries..... rolling into next year, who knows when.
More than that, how was I professing that God is teaching me "community", and how to better care for one another like He came to earth to teach us to do - and here before me is presented a first hand, first class tutorial - and God asks me, how could I ignore the beauty of the lesson?
How did they know what I was going to need three months ago when they decided to do this for us?
*******
We went to a Ray Vander Laan conference in the heart of the Mennonite and Amish community here in Ohio last year. It was fascinating. He talked about "Jerusalem" and focused on the last two weeks in the life of Jesus the Messiah.
I loved it so much, we went back to the sales table and wanted to purchase the audio series. The friends we had gone with said they had already purchased it, and would share it - why didn't we try and get something else and share?
I felt like I had just walked into a showroom with money in my pocket to buy a BMW, and now had to settle for something less.
We bought the series he had taught there three years previous, titled "Exodus" and felt like we were walking away with the consolation prize.
I have never been more wrong.
The series is all about "Chaos vs. Shalom". The second CD in the series was literally the best teaching on the Bible I have ever heard. Ever. (Ok, other than his first series that hooked me, the "Dust of the Rabbi", which I listened to back and forth to the Cleveland Clinic, alone in the car a couple of years ago.)
The Exodus series is nine CD's in length, and fascinating. It taught the correlation between Moses and Jesus and gave solid proofs that I had never heard before or considered, even though I might have read Exodus more than some.
It taught who really might be on that judgement seat we all must stand before one day. It contains an astounding reference to South Africa and how they used the Truth and Reconciliation Commission* in setting aside apartheid, trying to implement stability in their country. It was a place where all those wronged had opportunity to state the horrible atrocities that had been committed against them by those in authority and how they were going to work out reconciliation - so they could all live together a little easier. He quotes testimony at one such trial to paint a clear picture of who the Jewish Tanakh teaches may be the judge for us on that day we face our sin and face our judge.
If only the United States had done such a thing after the Civil War. If only we were a little more afraid of facing that judge.
But what was most fascinating to me, was how he presented the idea of "Chaos versus Shalom" in relation to the Exodus, in relation to the whole Bible and those in it, in relation to me - where I live at today.
It would not leave my mind. And I started to think that it was maybe the crux of a whole lot of problems and pain and unhappiness in a lot of people's lives.
God's idea in the beginning was Shalom. He gave a world of Shalom to Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. The word Shalom means something so much more than just "peace" - it means "The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight is what the Hebrew prophets call shalom. We call it peace but it means far more than mere peace of mind or a cease-fire between enemies. In the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness and delight – a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as its Creator and Savior opens doors and welcomes the creatures in whom he delights. Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be." Completion.
God wanted us then and wants us now, to live in Shalom. In fact, RVL goes as far as to state, that the people of God should be the ones with Shalom. Having received Shalom into their lives, then realizing that, Chaos tries to kill it. Push it back. Exterminate it.
It's the battle of the ages.
Our job - or maybe better said, our opportunity - is to be an oasis of Shalom on this earth, in the Kingdom of God for His glory. For the sanctuary and help to others. For the striving of excellence that produces Shalom. For giving hope to a world battle weary of fighting Chaos that doesn't know the name of the battle they are in.
But Chaos keeps pushing and pushing and sometimes overtakes us in a crisis to the point that we, the ones who should have the oasis of Shalom, are bankrupt. Sometimes it's our own doing, sometimes it is simply that we have been over-run. (Think Job)
While spending months on this series, my ears perked up every time I heard the word Chaos in the news, or on HGTV, thinking of my garage; I heard the word in reference to farms or work places - some farms and work places are the epitome of Chaos, while others are beautiful visions of excellence - Shalom - and encourage you to want to be a better person because of the Shalom that is fostered there.
It made me realize the chaos in our lives - and how it was working to overcome us and how the Shalom in our lives was being pounded. We had to work and pray and know truth to counteract it and it was difficult.
And mostly, with the Hebrews in Egypt and with me today, obtaining that Shalom all came down to *trust* - do you trust the God of the universe to do what He says He is going to do? Would I as a Hebrew that does not know a whole lot about the God I am supposedly linked to by my DNA - do I - a slave of that country - go out and buy that lamb on day 10 of the first month of the year, tie it before my house for all to see, and then slaughter it on day 14 and wipe the blood all over my door in full view of my tortuous taskmasters?
Four days I quake and shake every time I hear a footstep in my alley with that lamb tied in front of my home. Four days I consider over and over that maybe Moses' command was going to annihilate me and my people. Four days, I writhe and angst over that decision to listen to Moses and do what he said God commanded.
Do I have that kind of faith? Can I trust that much?
Do I stand in an oasis of Shalom and fight the Chaos surrounding me and wipe the blood on my doorpost - knowing it could mean the death of me, my family and any others inside that domicile?
My head lived inside the teaching of those nine CD's for months.
Then Chaos came knocking at our door again and I met a harsh taskmaster of my own. I knew that taskmaster well, had lived in hospitals with my loved ones for stretches of time, and was hoping to be free of walking those halls for a while.
I met that taskmaster again, and Chaos threatened to overcome me.
But because there was a group of people around me studying the same idea, they came to my defense in that battle, and offered me parts of their Shalom. I was invited into their circles of Shalom, and given sanctuary and help in time of crisis. Chaos.
I marvel in the timing that God led us to that series and knowledge. I marvel at how it has helped me process all of this. I marvel at the ones learning it, the ones brave enough to trust and apply it - tying that lamb in front of their doors for four days. Caring enough to send gut-honest emails about their trials; or picking up the phone and calling, when they knew the conversation might be tough; or sending gifts and monies to help us through; or 'keeping' us by literally giving us a place to stay while in treatment - how have they trusted that much to do all this sharing Shalom?
Or - or putting on a benefit for one they want to include in their circle of Shalom.
How did they - all of them - know what inviting me into their circle of Shalom would mean to us? How did they have the faith and trust to share that one note of encouragement, that one word of hope, that one gift at absolutely the right time - helping us to live in, and I quote again, a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as its Creator and Savior opens doors and welcomes the creatures in whom he delights. Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be." Completion.
We are fighting Chaos at the doors of Hell. And we are so grateful for those opening their doors and sharing their Shalom, creating a community and Kingdom here on earth that is awesome to behold.
*******
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth_and_Reconciliation_Commission_%28South_Africa%29
Think garden hose spray versus power wash.
But those first couple of weeks, I was still under the illusion that I was going to work. I missed more than half the month of January, then tried to go in the first week of February, and realized quickly that even if I could nicely talk my body into a little cooperation and haul it into my desk, my brain was not in agreement. It just wasn't going to work. It informed me that if I so chose to fill it full with steroids and harsh chemicals, that it was *quitting*.
And it did. I am truly afraid to check my work quality those couple of days.
My body kind of had a hissy-fit as well. On top of all the other symptoms that accompany chemo, I could not sit down easily due to some pretty odd and intense abdominal pain. My internal organs were screaming at me nine-tenths of the time to just STOP whatever it was that was causing their intense unhappiness.
But I was going to work.
I kept texting my boss Ducia that I was not able to make it 'this' day, but hoped I would be there the 'next' day. All of my careful pre-emptive planning I had scurried to put together the first week of January was coming down to the point that I could not keep payroll taxes and payroll and accounts payable current with just a couple of hours here and there.
Ducia finally called me one day, and I knew when I saw the caller ID what was going to happen. She told me what I knew needed to happen, knew was going to happen but could not make myself willing to say the words.
She kindly and gently told me I was being placed on a leave of absence.
She knew before I could say it, believe it, what I was going to need.
How did she know the proper time?
*******
I have to confess - we have some pretty awesome friends.
This Friday night, they are putting on a benefit for me.
I was not sure how to feel about this when they first talked about it. I work for a non-profit and I know how hard it is to raise funds, how much work it takes to put on a fundraiser.
It's a lot of man-hours that are never repaid nor fully appreciated.
But they took that on willingly. And enthusiastically.
They knew our past history with hospitals and bills and how it had chiseled and chipped away what should have been a solid granite financial under-girding at our age. It had sent us almost to the point of having to sell our home. Or worse. We are driving one 'half' car that was built in 1998. The other car is 10 years old.
We had slashed our budget to 'make it through'. For a long time.
Then came cancer.
I was brought up by parents that grew up during the Depression. My brain struggled with the idea that people were going to donate money. I struggled with the fact that there were a lot of people going to be doing a lot of work. I struggled with the fact that this was me, not someone else. I struggled with the proper response to it all.
I still do.
Most of it has been kept secret from me, because they know I would freak if I knew it all.
But the parts I do know, make me marvel. There is a network built around this benefit that has dumbfounded me. They have accomplished what some people get paid a lot of money to do for large organizations and such.
They have donated themselves, their time, their resources, all to make sure I am taken care of.
I am humbled beyond knowing what to do. They are showing the Kingdom of God in a way I have never personally seen it acted out on earth before. They are living it.
All because they said "God wanted them to do this."
I wasn't sure all of this was going to be "needed". When it comes to pride, I can lie to myself as well as the next person. Scott was talking to me last week, and he mentioned "you do remember you have to have surgery next year, too, right?"
I had forgotten that my "packaged chemo treatment plan" had changed several times, and that I was now more than likely going to need radiation and chemo after surgery, requiring a second and who knows how many more surgeries..... rolling into next year, who knows when.
More than that, how was I professing that God is teaching me "community", and how to better care for one another like He came to earth to teach us to do - and here before me is presented a first hand, first class tutorial - and God asks me, how could I ignore the beauty of the lesson?
How did they know what I was going to need three months ago when they decided to do this for us?
*******
We went to a Ray Vander Laan conference in the heart of the Mennonite and Amish community here in Ohio last year. It was fascinating. He talked about "Jerusalem" and focused on the last two weeks in the life of Jesus the Messiah.
I loved it so much, we went back to the sales table and wanted to purchase the audio series. The friends we had gone with said they had already purchased it, and would share it - why didn't we try and get something else and share?
I felt like I had just walked into a showroom with money in my pocket to buy a BMW, and now had to settle for something less.
We bought the series he had taught there three years previous, titled "Exodus" and felt like we were walking away with the consolation prize.
I have never been more wrong.
The series is all about "Chaos vs. Shalom". The second CD in the series was literally the best teaching on the Bible I have ever heard. Ever. (Ok, other than his first series that hooked me, the "Dust of the Rabbi", which I listened to back and forth to the Cleveland Clinic, alone in the car a couple of years ago.)
The Exodus series is nine CD's in length, and fascinating. It taught the correlation between Moses and Jesus and gave solid proofs that I had never heard before or considered, even though I might have read Exodus more than some.
It taught who really might be on that judgement seat we all must stand before one day. It contains an astounding reference to South Africa and how they used the Truth and Reconciliation Commission* in setting aside apartheid, trying to implement stability in their country. It was a place where all those wronged had opportunity to state the horrible atrocities that had been committed against them by those in authority and how they were going to work out reconciliation - so they could all live together a little easier. He quotes testimony at one such trial to paint a clear picture of who the Jewish Tanakh teaches may be the judge for us on that day we face our sin and face our judge.
If only the United States had done such a thing after the Civil War. If only we were a little more afraid of facing that judge.
But what was most fascinating to me, was how he presented the idea of "Chaos versus Shalom" in relation to the Exodus, in relation to the whole Bible and those in it, in relation to me - where I live at today.
It would not leave my mind. And I started to think that it was maybe the crux of a whole lot of problems and pain and unhappiness in a lot of people's lives.
God's idea in the beginning was Shalom. He gave a world of Shalom to Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. The word Shalom means something so much more than just "peace" - it means "The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight is what the Hebrew prophets call shalom. We call it peace but it means far more than mere peace of mind or a cease-fire between enemies. In the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness and delight – a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as its Creator and Savior opens doors and welcomes the creatures in whom he delights. Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be." Completion.
God wanted us then and wants us now, to live in Shalom. In fact, RVL goes as far as to state, that the people of God should be the ones with Shalom. Having received Shalom into their lives, then realizing that, Chaos tries to kill it. Push it back. Exterminate it.
It's the battle of the ages.
Our job - or maybe better said, our opportunity - is to be an oasis of Shalom on this earth, in the Kingdom of God for His glory. For the sanctuary and help to others. For the striving of excellence that produces Shalom. For giving hope to a world battle weary of fighting Chaos that doesn't know the name of the battle they are in.
But Chaos keeps pushing and pushing and sometimes overtakes us in a crisis to the point that we, the ones who should have the oasis of Shalom, are bankrupt. Sometimes it's our own doing, sometimes it is simply that we have been over-run. (Think Job)
While spending months on this series, my ears perked up every time I heard the word Chaos in the news, or on HGTV, thinking of my garage; I heard the word in reference to farms or work places - some farms and work places are the epitome of Chaos, while others are beautiful visions of excellence - Shalom - and encourage you to want to be a better person because of the Shalom that is fostered there.
It made me realize the chaos in our lives - and how it was working to overcome us and how the Shalom in our lives was being pounded. We had to work and pray and know truth to counteract it and it was difficult.
And mostly, with the Hebrews in Egypt and with me today, obtaining that Shalom all came down to *trust* - do you trust the God of the universe to do what He says He is going to do? Would I as a Hebrew that does not know a whole lot about the God I am supposedly linked to by my DNA - do I - a slave of that country - go out and buy that lamb on day 10 of the first month of the year, tie it before my house for all to see, and then slaughter it on day 14 and wipe the blood all over my door in full view of my tortuous taskmasters?
Four days I quake and shake every time I hear a footstep in my alley with that lamb tied in front of my home. Four days I consider over and over that maybe Moses' command was going to annihilate me and my people. Four days, I writhe and angst over that decision to listen to Moses and do what he said God commanded.
Do I have that kind of faith? Can I trust that much?
Do I stand in an oasis of Shalom and fight the Chaos surrounding me and wipe the blood on my doorpost - knowing it could mean the death of me, my family and any others inside that domicile?
My head lived inside the teaching of those nine CD's for months.
Then Chaos came knocking at our door again and I met a harsh taskmaster of my own. I knew that taskmaster well, had lived in hospitals with my loved ones for stretches of time, and was hoping to be free of walking those halls for a while.
I met that taskmaster again, and Chaos threatened to overcome me.
But because there was a group of people around me studying the same idea, they came to my defense in that battle, and offered me parts of their Shalom. I was invited into their circles of Shalom, and given sanctuary and help in time of crisis. Chaos.
I marvel in the timing that God led us to that series and knowledge. I marvel at how it has helped me process all of this. I marvel at the ones learning it, the ones brave enough to trust and apply it - tying that lamb in front of their doors for four days. Caring enough to send gut-honest emails about their trials; or picking up the phone and calling, when they knew the conversation might be tough; or sending gifts and monies to help us through; or 'keeping' us by literally giving us a place to stay while in treatment - how have they trusted that much to do all this sharing Shalom?
Or - or putting on a benefit for one they want to include in their circle of Shalom.
How did they - all of them - know what inviting me into their circle of Shalom would mean to us? How did they have the faith and trust to share that one note of encouragement, that one word of hope, that one gift at absolutely the right time - helping us to live in, and I quote again, a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as its Creator and Savior opens doors and welcomes the creatures in whom he delights. Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be." Completion.
We are fighting Chaos at the doors of Hell. And we are so grateful for those opening their doors and sharing their Shalom, creating a community and Kingdom here on earth that is awesome to behold.
*******
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth_and_Reconciliation_Commission_%28South_Africa%29
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Angel
I have made a study of looking deeply at pictures of those that I know have cancer. I recognize the "blimping" of steroids. I recognize the fear or pain or acceptance or sometimes even 'glory' in their eyes. Sometimes, while sitting in waiting rooms I am getting to the point that I can tell just by hair growth and a person's demeanor how long they have been in treatment.
At least at my cancer treatment center.
It appears that while we are becoming unwilling mini-experts in the field of "triple negative breast cancer", we know little about other cancers and their treatments.
I study how much weight other patients might have gained or lost. Thirty percent of cancer treatment patients die from malnutrition. Realizing that, I make myself "throw back" a few high calorie Ensure drinks when I cannot eat well. I've been somewhat a student of rapid weight gain and rapid weight loss some of my life it seems, and this is the first time in my life that I have been instructed "to not lose weight".
I study how they are handling their hair loss. Are they wearing wigs, or hats or scarves? I am beyond what looks 'good' necessarily, and now study what looks easiest and most comfortable.
Three times a week chemo kind of does that to a gal.
My favorite head covering to date is now a ratty looking, fleece 'pill-box' shape hat. It's warm, and comfortable to wear on chemo days - my only day out of the house most weeks - and it just feels good. Further extolling its attributes I should probably tell you that I can roll down the brim to cover my eyes in the car to sleep. I can wear it under a hood. I can move it around without it losing its shape.
I sound like a candidate for "What Not to Wear".
***
While sitting in waiting rooms, I also study how other patients handle their emotions.
I am not sure there is medical proof for this, but my brain as well as my body reacts to different blood work levels. I'm here to tell you - and I cannot speak for anyone else - but when my blood work is going south, I cry.
When my red blood cells are tanking, I am extremely weak and fatigued and weep. When my white blood cells are giving up the fight, I. cry. over. everything. We don't need a lab so much anymore to tell us what is biologically going on in my veins.
Scott looks at me now when the tears start and my anxiety is suddenly ratcheting up a few ladders (it never seems to happen by steps); but he looks at me and instead of saying something like "did you remember to take your thyroid pill this morning?", now says, "take it easy, your blood work is tanking".......
Or on nights that he has to put on the "counselor" name tag, I remind him after my hour session not to take it all too much to heart - as this is "Day 13" after my last carbo-taxal-ro triple earthquake, and my blood cells are waging a war that seems closely tied to the emoting part of my brain.
In my previous life, I didn't usually cry easily. But when my blood work starts dropping dramatically, it seems like my natural suppression is "off", and the tears just fall. Sometimes it is fear, but more often than not, it just seems that it's what my body knows it should be doing when hearing some news or thinking some thoughts and the tears just fall even though we all learned in childhood the *laws of suppressing tears*.
It surprises me more than anyone. I don't usually cry.
*******
Almost two weeks ago, I was refused one more chemo treatment. I kind of knew the facts before I even got in the car that morning, but when they told me, I still cried some - not out of surprise, but just because my brain immediately knows what that cost will be down the road, and it knows it should *feel*, and it sends the message immediately to my tear ducts.
Julie, my study nurse manager, just gives me a big hug.
But before I got the news, while I was sitting in the waiting room, "studying" again, I met *someone* .
There was one other couple waiting and she still had all of her hair, so I was guessing she was at the beginning of cycle one. Then another woman walked in - alone.
You are not supposed to walk in alone because after they are done pimping your body full of chemicals, you are in no shape to drive.
I had seen her in the lobby and she had smiled really big and waved at me. It is difficult to get any patients at the treatment center to make eye contact with you or talk, let alone smile that big and wave to someone they have never met before.
She walked into the chemo waiting room and made a bee line for me. She sat across from me and she was glowing. I don't mean her face only, but there was a glow *about* her. There was a shining, a shimmering.
Tell me my brain has had too much chemo and is possibly riding the horse backwards, but it's like the atoms around her were moving brilliantly and I could see them.
She wanted to know how long I had been in treatment and I told her. Then I asked her the same.
She said "eight years".
Along with breast cancer, she had cancer discovered in her stomach and liver and had been doing surgeries and treatments for eight years.
I leaned forward and asked her "how'd you do it?"
She had the biggest, most delightfully blessed smile. I could not look away.
She said she "had the best doctor" and wanted to know if Dr. Mrowzik was my doctor. She said she "really had to learn to lean on her friends". She said "no matter what, you keep going".
I felt like I was listening to two different languages at the same time. I felt like she was telling me more than anyone around us realized. I felt like not only were we communicating with our mouths and ears, but that somehow our souls were connecting. Communicating.
We were called back at the same time and she walked ahead of me. She suddenly turned and grabbed my hands and said something that seemed of utmost importance. It felt like it was words straight from heaven.
And I could not remember those words for days and days and I knew in my soul that they were the most important words that had been uttered to me since my husband said "I do".
***
We sat in my chemo room and received the bad blood work results. Scott for the first time there showed anger and disgust. He threw his phone and cleared some things off of a nearby table.
We both know I am missing too many treatments.
I cried. But inside me there was a calm amidst the dark clouds all around us. Inside me there was a 'pillar', a beckoning away from the darkness. A light.
I told Scott on the way home that I thought the lady in the waiting room had been an angel. He had been reading and hadn't noticed so much. I told him I thought she was talking directly to my soul.
I tried desperately to remember for days what she had turned and said to me when parting. It came back to me last week while sick after chemo.
She turned and grabbed my hands and said "it's going to be ok."
I remember clearly that it was not "you" - as in "you are going to be ok" -- but she said "it's". Still, I take it as a promise from God Himself in heaven that through this storm He is holding me. I take with me the reminder to lean on my friends now. I am glad she said our common doctor 'was the best'. I needed a reminder to 'keep on going - no matter what'.
And I really need that promise and those reminders sometimes spoken out loud to me.
And if she was a mere mortal with over active, beautiful atoms swirling around her that I could see, how did she know what I needed to hear at that moment before all darkness descended that day?
I have said before that if we are truly lucky in life - or truly blessed - sometimes, sometimes we get to see the curtain lift a little bit between the 'secular and the sacred'; the human and the divine; the world and the heavenly.
Or as our Jewish friends say when performing the end of Sabbath ceremony each week:
Blessed are You Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, who separates the holy and the profane, the light and dark, Israel and the other nations, the seventh day and the six days of the week.
Blessed are You Adonai, who separates between the holy and the profane.
And I might add, blessed are those who bless You and Your people mightily whether of this earth or of heaven.
At least at my cancer treatment center.
It appears that while we are becoming unwilling mini-experts in the field of "triple negative breast cancer", we know little about other cancers and their treatments.
I study how much weight other patients might have gained or lost. Thirty percent of cancer treatment patients die from malnutrition. Realizing that, I make myself "throw back" a few high calorie Ensure drinks when I cannot eat well. I've been somewhat a student of rapid weight gain and rapid weight loss some of my life it seems, and this is the first time in my life that I have been instructed "to not lose weight".
I study how they are handling their hair loss. Are they wearing wigs, or hats or scarves? I am beyond what looks 'good' necessarily, and now study what looks easiest and most comfortable.
Three times a week chemo kind of does that to a gal.
My favorite head covering to date is now a ratty looking, fleece 'pill-box' shape hat. It's warm, and comfortable to wear on chemo days - my only day out of the house most weeks - and it just feels good. Further extolling its attributes I should probably tell you that I can roll down the brim to cover my eyes in the car to sleep. I can wear it under a hood. I can move it around without it losing its shape.
I sound like a candidate for "What Not to Wear".
***
While sitting in waiting rooms, I also study how other patients handle their emotions.
I am not sure there is medical proof for this, but my brain as well as my body reacts to different blood work levels. I'm here to tell you - and I cannot speak for anyone else - but when my blood work is going south, I cry.
When my red blood cells are tanking, I am extremely weak and fatigued and weep. When my white blood cells are giving up the fight, I. cry. over. everything. We don't need a lab so much anymore to tell us what is biologically going on in my veins.
Scott looks at me now when the tears start and my anxiety is suddenly ratcheting up a few ladders (it never seems to happen by steps); but he looks at me and instead of saying something like "did you remember to take your thyroid pill this morning?", now says, "take it easy, your blood work is tanking".......
Or on nights that he has to put on the "counselor" name tag, I remind him after my hour session not to take it all too much to heart - as this is "Day 13" after my last carbo-taxal-ro triple earthquake, and my blood cells are waging a war that seems closely tied to the emoting part of my brain.
In my previous life, I didn't usually cry easily. But when my blood work starts dropping dramatically, it seems like my natural suppression is "off", and the tears just fall. Sometimes it is fear, but more often than not, it just seems that it's what my body knows it should be doing when hearing some news or thinking some thoughts and the tears just fall even though we all learned in childhood the *laws of suppressing tears*.
It surprises me more than anyone. I don't usually cry.
*******
Almost two weeks ago, I was refused one more chemo treatment. I kind of knew the facts before I even got in the car that morning, but when they told me, I still cried some - not out of surprise, but just because my brain immediately knows what that cost will be down the road, and it knows it should *feel*, and it sends the message immediately to my tear ducts.
Julie, my study nurse manager, just gives me a big hug.
But before I got the news, while I was sitting in the waiting room, "studying" again, I met *someone* .
There was one other couple waiting and she still had all of her hair, so I was guessing she was at the beginning of cycle one. Then another woman walked in - alone.
You are not supposed to walk in alone because after they are done pimping your body full of chemicals, you are in no shape to drive.
I had seen her in the lobby and she had smiled really big and waved at me. It is difficult to get any patients at the treatment center to make eye contact with you or talk, let alone smile that big and wave to someone they have never met before.
She walked into the chemo waiting room and made a bee line for me. She sat across from me and she was glowing. I don't mean her face only, but there was a glow *about* her. There was a shining, a shimmering.
Tell me my brain has had too much chemo and is possibly riding the horse backwards, but it's like the atoms around her were moving brilliantly and I could see them.
She wanted to know how long I had been in treatment and I told her. Then I asked her the same.
She said "eight years".
Along with breast cancer, she had cancer discovered in her stomach and liver and had been doing surgeries and treatments for eight years.
I leaned forward and asked her "how'd you do it?"
She had the biggest, most delightfully blessed smile. I could not look away.
She said she "had the best doctor" and wanted to know if Dr. Mrowzik was my doctor. She said she "really had to learn to lean on her friends". She said "no matter what, you keep going".
I felt like I was listening to two different languages at the same time. I felt like she was telling me more than anyone around us realized. I felt like not only were we communicating with our mouths and ears, but that somehow our souls were connecting. Communicating.
We were called back at the same time and she walked ahead of me. She suddenly turned and grabbed my hands and said something that seemed of utmost importance. It felt like it was words straight from heaven.
And I could not remember those words for days and days and I knew in my soul that they were the most important words that had been uttered to me since my husband said "I do".
***
We sat in my chemo room and received the bad blood work results. Scott for the first time there showed anger and disgust. He threw his phone and cleared some things off of a nearby table.
We both know I am missing too many treatments.
I cried. But inside me there was a calm amidst the dark clouds all around us. Inside me there was a 'pillar', a beckoning away from the darkness. A light.
I told Scott on the way home that I thought the lady in the waiting room had been an angel. He had been reading and hadn't noticed so much. I told him I thought she was talking directly to my soul.
I tried desperately to remember for days what she had turned and said to me when parting. It came back to me last week while sick after chemo.
She turned and grabbed my hands and said "it's going to be ok."
I remember clearly that it was not "you" - as in "you are going to be ok" -- but she said "it's". Still, I take it as a promise from God Himself in heaven that through this storm He is holding me. I take with me the reminder to lean on my friends now. I am glad she said our common doctor 'was the best'. I needed a reminder to 'keep on going - no matter what'.
And I really need that promise and those reminders sometimes spoken out loud to me.
And if she was a mere mortal with over active, beautiful atoms swirling around her that I could see, how did she know what I needed to hear at that moment before all darkness descended that day?
I have said before that if we are truly lucky in life - or truly blessed - sometimes, sometimes we get to see the curtain lift a little bit between the 'secular and the sacred'; the human and the divine; the world and the heavenly.
Or as our Jewish friends say when performing the end of Sabbath ceremony each week:
Blessed are You Adonai our God, Ruler of the Universe, who separates the holy and the profane, the light and dark, Israel and the other nations, the seventh day and the six days of the week.
Blessed are You Adonai, who separates between the holy and the profane.
And I might add, blessed are those who bless You and Your people mightily whether of this earth or of heaven.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Tidbits and tears and lawns, neighbors and moms
At the cancer treatment center it is impossible not to hear what others are enduring. Today, I heard a woman get her first treatment instructions from several people. I heard them talk to her about starting the IV. I heard them talk to her about the expected side effects this coming week. I heard them talk to her about the steroid reaction (a speech I never received by the way). I heard her friend that drove her talk too loud and too much and not letting the doctor and nurse say what they needed to say.
Then it was all quiet over there.
I got up to go to the bathroom and looked her way. Her eyes were red and she had tears on her cheeks.
I so felt for her. I so knew her fear. I so wished I had a magic wand to make her life better. I smiled and waved.
*******
Last weekend I think was the final fireworks of my last carbo treatment. I hurt. I was bloated again. I could feel my organs screaming at me for loading them with this chemical and making them process it.
I became a little fearful remembering that this was how my last blood transfusion need started. I'm glad the blood is there for me to use when needed, but I'm not so sure I want someone else's DNA parading about in my blood vessels. It gives my imagination too many hours of pondering.
I went out for a walk.
It was a cold blustery day and I dressed for it in my pink rain coat that I now loathe because pink is all the color of breast cancer and even though I love the color pink, I don't want to see it so much right now. And wearing that pink raincoat every time I go outside is like suddenly not saying so much anymore that "pink is such a fun color to wear in the rain", it's more like a big arrow pointing to me and announcing "there goes cancer"....
But I went for the mile walk around our street and upon looking up facing the wind saw that I was just a few steps away from our neighbor on the lake that sometimes invites us to boat with them on their pontoon boat in the summer.
I couldn't avoid him. I was not feeling good enough to want to stand and chat. I just wanted to get in my walk and go back home and lay down and try to find some way to soothe the ravaged organs yelling at me.
He looked at me so kindly - my eyelashes now count four and my eyebrows count three - so I don't like to see people I haven't seen in a while and startle them, but he looked at me so kindly and asked me how I was doing. He said he was so sorry to hear of my disease. He said anytime I might need anything to call him. He said that if I even needed someone to run a glass of water up to me when I am sick in bed and no one was there to do it, to call him, that he would even sit in my living room and watch some questionable movies and wait until Scott got back home.
There were tears on my cheeks unbidden. It seems my ability to suppress my feelings coming out of my eyes is gone most days.
He did the most touching thing - we are neighbors that know each other but don't know each other - and when he saw the tears because of his kind words - he reached his finger out and wiped them away.
He touched me and just smiled at me gently.
I almost avoided that moment.
*******
Even though today we had a long drive and a longer day at the cancer treatment center that resulted in us being relieved to get treatments, making us happy, we were bushed. Smashed.
We stopped at Walmart on the way home. I need to figure out how to do eyelashes. I have watched tutorials online, but am still puzzled. Cancer treatments and the whole day is just tiring. But Walmart on top of that just plain shut me down and all I want to say is put me to bed for twenty years Rip Van Winkle.
Scott was tired too. It's hard work hearing how your wife is going to be further abused. It's even more-so to watch it. And he has every time. Then I make him help me sneak into a store, avoid all the germs I can and ask him which eyelashes look more real.
It was a lot.
We pulled down our street and he is fussing a little about all the work he has to do the next couple of days. Laundry, some cleaning, dishes, cooking for a fussy stomach, -- and school. Although he did not complain about it, nursing is on that list as well. And counselor.
We pulled down our street while he is listing this and I am half asleep still in some injectable-Benadryl-doze-land, and see that our lawn has been mowed.
The grass that he pampers and babies and spends more money on than should be constitutionally allowed; his first concern every spring and last concern each fall. His grass. His lawn.
It's all done. He doesn't have to worry about that or add it to his list.
It looks awesome. And it's done. One less thing he has to do while I slug it out with the chemo drugs this week.
We cannot thank you enough Fred. Not only are you successful in life and business, but as a lasting, good friend.
And I know if you were sitting beside me right now you would want to wipe the tears off of my cheeks as well.
*******
Our doorbell rang yesterday. Scott opened it and our son's mother in law, Lisa, was standing there. We are friends - I love her. We have shared two precious little girls for almost five years now and we have sometimes supported each other and helped each other out with child care duties and it is so good to know that someone else other than their parents loves those little girls as much as we do.
I was upstairs thinking I should get properly clothed before going down and heard some bits and pieces.
She handed Scott a bag from Grandpa's Cheese Barn that had two different types of Sweeties chocolates in it and other goodies. Then she said to "tell Karen she was praying for her, and loved her and was hoping all the best for her."
Then I heard Scott say good bye and close the door. I had missed her, but so treasured her gift and her words.
I looked in the mirror and saw those feelings falling over my cheeks again.
*******
My woeful lack of tears for fifty years seems to have been ripped from my person and replaced with the ability to cry when my brain says I should. They just show up and I could not stop them anymore than I could stop the feelings that have been long suppressed and pushed aside too many times - feelings of honest gratitude; feelings of honest blessing; feelings of honest humility; feelings of love. Real love being poured out on us.
I see friends that I haven't seen for so long, and I cry, it is so good to see them and it is the most natural response suddenly.
But what makes the tears fall more than anything has been realizing kindnesses and the effort and love and cost that is behind those kindnesses bestowed on us. It is humbling. But more than that, it is a deep feeling of wonderment that has never been available before my eyes before in such quantity.
The Rabbi I listen to reminded me of a verse last week in Psalms where it says God lists every tear and records it and even stores it in a bottle, depending on which translation you use.
I like that. If these tears are my cleansing, then God has them stored. And listed.
And they have been so cleansing. Cleaning out fifty years of "stuff" that should have been kept clean all along. That should have been sensed and felt all along. Things that should never have been pushed aside, and my innards knew that, but I would not usually let the "cleansing" happen. What was not allowed for so long cannot be stopped now.
*******
We picked up my mom and took her to Easter with us. It is difficult for her to navigate steps and get into a car. It is difficult for her walk. It is difficult for her, like me, to feel at times.
She had a great time watching her great-grand-children play and seek out their eggs. She had a great time interacting with her grand-babies - my kids - that she rocked and sang to and loved on for years. We all know that Scotty is her favorite of sorts, and she just shines when he and his sisters lean down and hug her and tell her out loud that they love her.
They do something their mother cannot - we never did that.
When we dropped her off she was standing in my brother's kitchen and Scott and I turned to leave after chatting a bit, and Scott said out loud - go give your mom a hug.
I did. And the tears were on her cheeks and her eyes were full of me and she said that she used to put my "lots of hair" when I was a baby in a curl on top of my head. She mourns so that I am going through this, and my husband can see better than me that she needed my touch. My physical touch.
She goes in for surgery tomorrow to repair a hernia from her surgery last year. It about killed me to release her into a surgery last year that I wasn't sure her frail body would be ok with. And I remember just sitting there with her and for the first time in a long time I wept openly and told her I was so sorry for all of this. And everything else.
Now, again, the tears are on my cheeks thinking of her. I wish a lot of things for her both past and present, but most of all I wish her an easy heart. A heart not so heavy with regrets and sadness.
I hope she knows that God has her tears all stored and listed. It is somehow healing.
Then it was all quiet over there.
I got up to go to the bathroom and looked her way. Her eyes were red and she had tears on her cheeks.
I so felt for her. I so knew her fear. I so wished I had a magic wand to make her life better. I smiled and waved.
*******
Last weekend I think was the final fireworks of my last carbo treatment. I hurt. I was bloated again. I could feel my organs screaming at me for loading them with this chemical and making them process it.
I became a little fearful remembering that this was how my last blood transfusion need started. I'm glad the blood is there for me to use when needed, but I'm not so sure I want someone else's DNA parading about in my blood vessels. It gives my imagination too many hours of pondering.
I went out for a walk.
It was a cold blustery day and I dressed for it in my pink rain coat that I now loathe because pink is all the color of breast cancer and even though I love the color pink, I don't want to see it so much right now. And wearing that pink raincoat every time I go outside is like suddenly not saying so much anymore that "pink is such a fun color to wear in the rain", it's more like a big arrow pointing to me and announcing "there goes cancer"....
But I went for the mile walk around our street and upon looking up facing the wind saw that I was just a few steps away from our neighbor on the lake that sometimes invites us to boat with them on their pontoon boat in the summer.
I couldn't avoid him. I was not feeling good enough to want to stand and chat. I just wanted to get in my walk and go back home and lay down and try to find some way to soothe the ravaged organs yelling at me.
He looked at me so kindly - my eyelashes now count four and my eyebrows count three - so I don't like to see people I haven't seen in a while and startle them, but he looked at me so kindly and asked me how I was doing. He said he was so sorry to hear of my disease. He said anytime I might need anything to call him. He said that if I even needed someone to run a glass of water up to me when I am sick in bed and no one was there to do it, to call him, that he would even sit in my living room and watch some questionable movies and wait until Scott got back home.
There were tears on my cheeks unbidden. It seems my ability to suppress my feelings coming out of my eyes is gone most days.
He did the most touching thing - we are neighbors that know each other but don't know each other - and when he saw the tears because of his kind words - he reached his finger out and wiped them away.
He touched me and just smiled at me gently.
I almost avoided that moment.
*******
Even though today we had a long drive and a longer day at the cancer treatment center that resulted in us being relieved to get treatments, making us happy, we were bushed. Smashed.
We stopped at Walmart on the way home. I need to figure out how to do eyelashes. I have watched tutorials online, but am still puzzled. Cancer treatments and the whole day is just tiring. But Walmart on top of that just plain shut me down and all I want to say is put me to bed for twenty years Rip Van Winkle.
Scott was tired too. It's hard work hearing how your wife is going to be further abused. It's even more-so to watch it. And he has every time. Then I make him help me sneak into a store, avoid all the germs I can and ask him which eyelashes look more real.
It was a lot.
We pulled down our street and he is fussing a little about all the work he has to do the next couple of days. Laundry, some cleaning, dishes, cooking for a fussy stomach, -- and school. Although he did not complain about it, nursing is on that list as well. And counselor.
We pulled down our street while he is listing this and I am half asleep still in some injectable-Benadryl-doze-land, and see that our lawn has been mowed.
The grass that he pampers and babies and spends more money on than should be constitutionally allowed; his first concern every spring and last concern each fall. His grass. His lawn.
It's all done. He doesn't have to worry about that or add it to his list.
It looks awesome. And it's done. One less thing he has to do while I slug it out with the chemo drugs this week.
We cannot thank you enough Fred. Not only are you successful in life and business, but as a lasting, good friend.
And I know if you were sitting beside me right now you would want to wipe the tears off of my cheeks as well.
*******
Our doorbell rang yesterday. Scott opened it and our son's mother in law, Lisa, was standing there. We are friends - I love her. We have shared two precious little girls for almost five years now and we have sometimes supported each other and helped each other out with child care duties and it is so good to know that someone else other than their parents loves those little girls as much as we do.
I was upstairs thinking I should get properly clothed before going down and heard some bits and pieces.
She handed Scott a bag from Grandpa's Cheese Barn that had two different types of Sweeties chocolates in it and other goodies. Then she said to "tell Karen she was praying for her, and loved her and was hoping all the best for her."
Then I heard Scott say good bye and close the door. I had missed her, but so treasured her gift and her words.
I looked in the mirror and saw those feelings falling over my cheeks again.
*******
My woeful lack of tears for fifty years seems to have been ripped from my person and replaced with the ability to cry when my brain says I should. They just show up and I could not stop them anymore than I could stop the feelings that have been long suppressed and pushed aside too many times - feelings of honest gratitude; feelings of honest blessing; feelings of honest humility; feelings of love. Real love being poured out on us.
I see friends that I haven't seen for so long, and I cry, it is so good to see them and it is the most natural response suddenly.
But what makes the tears fall more than anything has been realizing kindnesses and the effort and love and cost that is behind those kindnesses bestowed on us. It is humbling. But more than that, it is a deep feeling of wonderment that has never been available before my eyes before in such quantity.
The Rabbi I listen to reminded me of a verse last week in Psalms where it says God lists every tear and records it and even stores it in a bottle, depending on which translation you use.
I like that. If these tears are my cleansing, then God has them stored. And listed.
And they have been so cleansing. Cleaning out fifty years of "stuff" that should have been kept clean all along. That should have been sensed and felt all along. Things that should never have been pushed aside, and my innards knew that, but I would not usually let the "cleansing" happen. What was not allowed for so long cannot be stopped now.
*******
We picked up my mom and took her to Easter with us. It is difficult for her to navigate steps and get into a car. It is difficult for her walk. It is difficult for her, like me, to feel at times.
She had a great time watching her great-grand-children play and seek out their eggs. She had a great time interacting with her grand-babies - my kids - that she rocked and sang to and loved on for years. We all know that Scotty is her favorite of sorts, and she just shines when he and his sisters lean down and hug her and tell her out loud that they love her.
They do something their mother cannot - we never did that.
When we dropped her off she was standing in my brother's kitchen and Scott and I turned to leave after chatting a bit, and Scott said out loud - go give your mom a hug.
I did. And the tears were on her cheeks and her eyes were full of me and she said that she used to put my "lots of hair" when I was a baby in a curl on top of my head. She mourns so that I am going through this, and my husband can see better than me that she needed my touch. My physical touch.
She goes in for surgery tomorrow to repair a hernia from her surgery last year. It about killed me to release her into a surgery last year that I wasn't sure her frail body would be ok with. And I remember just sitting there with her and for the first time in a long time I wept openly and told her I was so sorry for all of this. And everything else.
Now, again, the tears are on my cheeks thinking of her. I wish a lot of things for her both past and present, but most of all I wish her an easy heart. A heart not so heavy with regrets and sadness.
I hope she knows that God has her tears all stored and listed. It is somehow healing.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Nurses are A*W*E*S*O*M*E part 2
Hold on America, Karen is back on steroids for the next 24 hours. My brain is working faster this evening than it has in the previous ten years. Twelve years. I have not been this in-tune and keen and watchful and stealthy with my surroundings and reactions since I had teenagers at home.
We got home from the OSU-Stephanie Speilman Center after 5pm today. It was a pretty incredible day, and I have to attribute it to the prayers that you folks are putting up on my behalf.
And one awesome nurse.
After being refused chemo treatment last week with low blood work, Dr. M and Julie suggested that I try a lab closer to home that could test me so we would not have to make the long drive and they wouldn't have to refuse me again and -- and *maybe see me cry* again, I suspect. A simple CBC, complete blood count - is all I need, so I went to the local facility yesterday.
After a few trials at the outside facility, they finally did call me with the blood work results late afternoon, and though they did not have the "grans, absolute" formula on their sheet that tells me everything I need to know about getting a treatment or not - what she told me about my white blood cells was super!! They had really jumped and I was pretty amazed. And my hemoglobin instead of stepping down more, which it should have been doing being fourteen days out from my last carbo treatment -- my hemoglobin and platelets, bless them, went up.
Talk about a 'dark-horse- candidate succeeding where everyone thought they were doomed.
That is a miracle. Your red blood cells are pooped out and just down right waving a white flag two weeks after carbo. Especially mine it appears. With missing treatment last week, they should have held their own and not stepped down too much more, but this is miraculous -- mine stepped up.
Everyone was all smiles over that one.
My white blood cells on the other hand, seem to be reacting to the IV Taxal that I get every week. Or that I am supposed to get every week. 'They' have been telling me the last two weeks, the longer you are in chemo, the more you get used to it, but, on the other hand, the more your body starts to break down and react. For example, there is more chance now for a more severe carbo reaction a couple of days after receiving it. And it appears, sneaky Taxal is on that bus as well.
I keep telling the nurses to please, please not say such things in the hearing of my body - my body hears it, hugs it close - and away we go to whatever they warn me about.
Actually, they know their stuff, and they know pretty much when to warn you, so I am grateful. If they would have told me these things at the first treatment that I am hearing now and accept just as more information - I would have freaked. Freaked out.
But I thought that out of the three chemo drugs I am taking, that Taxal and I were the closest of friends. At least as friendly as you can be with chemo that is. Obviously, Taxal has some old Soviet-Russian components to it. It acted like my friend, but in the end, is quickly becoming the more long lasting, devastating hurt.
And today, it seems Taxal has been undermining my wbc's fourteen days out as well.
*******
Abby was my first nurse that I had at the Stephanie Spielman Center after I was done with the study part at OSU-James Cancer campus. She was pretty awesome then and even more-so today. This was the first nurse that I have had twice and she remembered most of what we talked about over two months ago.
I, on the other hand, did not.
The level of knowledge that these nurses have within the James Cancer Center, is pretty spectacular. And then they openly, and thoroughly share it with the patients. They know every cancer they are treating upside down, inside out and flipped over. They know every treatment being given. They even know most of the ins and outs of every study being conducted there - and what they don't know they pursue and get answers.
That's a lot of knowing and brain cell usage, folks.
She had a trainee shadowing her today, and her training was going to take over six months. I believe it.
After my blood work's spectacular showing yesterday, it was too low this morning. From 1pm yesterday, to 9am this morning, my blood results did a huge flip-flop.
Perhaps I am being inundated with too many campaign commercials these days, and my wbc's decided to jump on board the finger pointing 'flip-flop-train'..
But I was too low on my wbc's to get chemo again. We were quite surprised - how could it drop that much in that amount of time??? Julie said that happens sometimes with outside labs.
But by the time it was all said and done, my wbc's were too low for chemo, even though my red blood cells had done some herculean work this past week.
They all left the room, and I didn't cry, didn't get mad, I guess I have reached some level of acceptance of the state of my blood on some days.
Abby put her head back in the door and with a twinkle of hope in her eye, told us not to pack up yet.
We waited, I played on my cell phone, Scott looked out the window, and then Abby flew in again. She said "I asked them to try a blood draw from your arm this time, not your port". My port is flushed each time it is accessed with saline solution and a blood thinner to avoid clotting that close to your heart and jugular leading directly to your brain and all. She wondered if that was influencing some of my results.
Sweet girl that I love. Brilliant girl.
She hit a vein easily, pulled out the blood which I was praying over, and left the room.
We waited some more. Then Abby came back in with her trainee, with Julie and her trainee, and what we had was a whole entourage getting off the campaign bus smiling really big.
Julie sat down at the desk and looked over the new blood results on the screen. She looked at me and said "you might just squeak in". They left the room to use the calculator to be sure - and after a while - came back in - I had won the nomination.
She said "you have squeaked in being at 1,000.012". I have to be at least 1,000 on my grans absolute formula, and here I was with point - point .012 to spare.
Hoo-ah and ticker-tape parades.
And all because Abby went that extra mile for me. Wednesdays are their busiest day. Once, they told me that 10 chemo nurses were processing 53 chemo treatments that day. That is pretty outstanding considering the amount of time they spend with each patient. I was there from 9am to 2:45pm today.
She was awesome and saved us another wearisome trip to Columbus on Friday. Don't get me wrong - I am so, so thankful that facility is there. I love it and what they do and how they do it. But the travel part and "hanging-out" part is wearisome and fatigues my already depleted cells sometimes. Her "extra-mile" that she walked with me today saved me travel-fatigue, exposure, time, money, and saved Scott from another frazzled morning on red-break-light-mostly-stopped 315. He might have a stroke on there one day.
She also gave me a very helpful hint that is kind of a no-brainer if you think on it - but very useful. Next time I use an outside lab, have them use the veins in my arm and "save" the port for her. Yeah, we all should have thought of that one, but she is the one that was thinking about how to make my life better. My healing work. My chances improve on that poll.
God in heaven shined His face on us today. And we cannot be more grateful. He sent us an awesome nurse again that went to bat for me, and we were blessed.
Thank you for your prayers. God is showing me an ever unrolling process of how His kingdom works here on earth. I will never understand it all, but He keeps showing me and it impacts me, and I feel your prayers going to heaven on my behalf.
And I am on my face, on the ground, thankful.
*******
Our House Church went through Matthew last year and it clinks around in my brain still all that we learned. I don't know what Abby's faith is, but she is obviously living these verses, all because she wants what is best for me -- someone she may not see again, someone she did everything medically correct for today and could have walked away from my room that first hour satisfied.
But she walked that extra mile for me. Because that's who she is.
Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give. Matthew 10:8
And I know my red blood cells did something this past week that they were not supposed to be able to do.
I got this from a friend this week who has gone through some seriously scary and painful medical issues that were beyond my comprehension. I had told her that sometimes the tears just came - they were not from depression; not anger or fear sometimes, even though sometimes they are; but they just seemed somehow cleansing. A lifetime of cleansing seeping out of my tear ducts unawares.
She answered:
This week I pray that you will have an awesome week...not just better,but awesome..God wants to pour out his love on you and Scott!! Tears are very therapeutic..and emptying...I remember when I was in a hospital (can't remember which one..some of it is a blur) and I was so wanting for the onslaught to be over..it was one barrage after another...My husband brought to mind the story of Jesus calming the storm when they were on a boat.."ENOUGH" he said and the wind and waves ceased..I wanted Him to do that again....I pictured that over in my mind..knowing He is able...He is Awesome!! We are His children and He does love and carry us!! So expect great things this week..Go in His power..wow...
And that is what has happened this past week - there have been some horrible storms, but with encouragement, I am envisioning a Savior that I follow and I envision Him shouting at it all "ENOUGH"!! And I am blessed beyond words and maybe met an angel to boot.
What kind of a God is that?
I am beginning to believe something that I have known, and believed and even taught to others - but I am beginning to 'know' on a different level what kind of a God we have - and that He listens to others on my behalf is not something I can put my arms around again and again. I don't know the ending destination of this journey, but I am beginning to know better a God that truly does watch you be thrown into the fiery furnace and truly does hear.
And truly, walks in that furnace with us. When people around us count how many were thrown into that furnace, I hope they see an additional "one" walking with us.**
There are others that are walking an even hotter fire than I this week, so I pray for them. Because He is walking with me, I pray that the flames may not overtake them as well, that He walks in there with them.
And if you think that note was awesome, and it was, you should meet the House Church people behind us that God himself lined up. And old friends coming to shelter us, guard us, pray over us and help us out so we will have a place to live this time next year. I'd love to have you meet two earnest young men that pray a prayer of healing over us. You should see the cards I get in the mail - some unsigned and playful, giving us something to think about, investigate, wonder over. Some, touching my soul with their outpouring of love and words.
It has been overwhelming, because I of all people, did not expect this. God giving me nurses that are beyond their pay-levels. God providing for us in ways that are humbling, yet full of wonderment. God lining up people to be that encouragement, that day, to enable us to take one more step, to go on and continue.
******
Daniel 3:
**Then Nebuchadnezzar was furious with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and his attitude toward them changed. He ordered the furnace heated seven times hotter than usual and commanded some of the strongest soldiers in his army to tie up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace. So these men, wearing their robes, trousers, turbans and other clothes, were bound and thrown into the blazing furnace. The king’s command was so urgent and the furnace so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and these three men, firmly tied, fell into the blazing furnace.
Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, “Weren’t there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?”
They replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty.”
He said, “Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.”
Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!”
So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire, and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them. They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.
Then Nebuchadnezzar said, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who has sent his angel and rescued his servants! They trusted in him and defied the king’s command and were willing to give up their lives rather than serve or worship any god except their own God. Therefore I decree that the people of any nation or language who say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego be cut into pieces and their houses be turned into piles of rubble, for no other god can save in this way.”
*******
Whether we walk out of the fire or not, I pray we live our lives in ways that make people drop their jaw at times and see the "One" walking in the midst of it with us. I'm not quite there yet, but He still is walking it with me.
*******
And right now, I'm guessing you all are very thankful that I didn't get the nurse that gives the steroids too fast helping my brain stay awake all night and recall butchering turkeys and other frightful events in my life.
We got home from the OSU-Stephanie Speilman Center after 5pm today. It was a pretty incredible day, and I have to attribute it to the prayers that you folks are putting up on my behalf.
And one awesome nurse.
After being refused chemo treatment last week with low blood work, Dr. M and Julie suggested that I try a lab closer to home that could test me so we would not have to make the long drive and they wouldn't have to refuse me again and -- and *maybe see me cry* again, I suspect. A simple CBC, complete blood count - is all I need, so I went to the local facility yesterday.
After a few trials at the outside facility, they finally did call me with the blood work results late afternoon, and though they did not have the "grans, absolute" formula on their sheet that tells me everything I need to know about getting a treatment or not - what she told me about my white blood cells was super!! They had really jumped and I was pretty amazed. And my hemoglobin instead of stepping down more, which it should have been doing being fourteen days out from my last carbo treatment -- my hemoglobin and platelets, bless them, went up.
Talk about a 'dark-horse- candidate succeeding where everyone thought they were doomed.
That is a miracle. Your red blood cells are pooped out and just down right waving a white flag two weeks after carbo. Especially mine it appears. With missing treatment last week, they should have held their own and not stepped down too much more, but this is miraculous -- mine stepped up.
Everyone was all smiles over that one.
My white blood cells on the other hand, seem to be reacting to the IV Taxal that I get every week. Or that I am supposed to get every week. 'They' have been telling me the last two weeks, the longer you are in chemo, the more you get used to it, but, on the other hand, the more your body starts to break down and react. For example, there is more chance now for a more severe carbo reaction a couple of days after receiving it. And it appears, sneaky Taxal is on that bus as well.
I keep telling the nurses to please, please not say such things in the hearing of my body - my body hears it, hugs it close - and away we go to whatever they warn me about.
Actually, they know their stuff, and they know pretty much when to warn you, so I am grateful. If they would have told me these things at the first treatment that I am hearing now and accept just as more information - I would have freaked. Freaked out.
But I thought that out of the three chemo drugs I am taking, that Taxal and I were the closest of friends. At least as friendly as you can be with chemo that is. Obviously, Taxal has some old Soviet-Russian components to it. It acted like my friend, but in the end, is quickly becoming the more long lasting, devastating hurt.
And today, it seems Taxal has been undermining my wbc's fourteen days out as well.
*******
Abby was my first nurse that I had at the Stephanie Spielman Center after I was done with the study part at OSU-James Cancer campus. She was pretty awesome then and even more-so today. This was the first nurse that I have had twice and she remembered most of what we talked about over two months ago.
I, on the other hand, did not.
The level of knowledge that these nurses have within the James Cancer Center, is pretty spectacular. And then they openly, and thoroughly share it with the patients. They know every cancer they are treating upside down, inside out and flipped over. They know every treatment being given. They even know most of the ins and outs of every study being conducted there - and what they don't know they pursue and get answers.
That's a lot of knowing and brain cell usage, folks.
She had a trainee shadowing her today, and her training was going to take over six months. I believe it.
After my blood work's spectacular showing yesterday, it was too low this morning. From 1pm yesterday, to 9am this morning, my blood results did a huge flip-flop.
Perhaps I am being inundated with too many campaign commercials these days, and my wbc's decided to jump on board the finger pointing 'flip-flop-train'..
But I was too low on my wbc's to get chemo again. We were quite surprised - how could it drop that much in that amount of time??? Julie said that happens sometimes with outside labs.
But by the time it was all said and done, my wbc's were too low for chemo, even though my red blood cells had done some herculean work this past week.
They all left the room, and I didn't cry, didn't get mad, I guess I have reached some level of acceptance of the state of my blood on some days.
Abby put her head back in the door and with a twinkle of hope in her eye, told us not to pack up yet.
We waited, I played on my cell phone, Scott looked out the window, and then Abby flew in again. She said "I asked them to try a blood draw from your arm this time, not your port". My port is flushed each time it is accessed with saline solution and a blood thinner to avoid clotting that close to your heart and jugular leading directly to your brain and all. She wondered if that was influencing some of my results.
Sweet girl that I love. Brilliant girl.
She hit a vein easily, pulled out the blood which I was praying over, and left the room.
We waited some more. Then Abby came back in with her trainee, with Julie and her trainee, and what we had was a whole entourage getting off the campaign bus smiling really big.
Julie sat down at the desk and looked over the new blood results on the screen. She looked at me and said "you might just squeak in". They left the room to use the calculator to be sure - and after a while - came back in - I had won the nomination.
She said "you have squeaked in being at 1,000.012". I have to be at least 1,000 on my grans absolute formula, and here I was with point - point .012 to spare.
Hoo-ah and ticker-tape parades.
And all because Abby went that extra mile for me. Wednesdays are their busiest day. Once, they told me that 10 chemo nurses were processing 53 chemo treatments that day. That is pretty outstanding considering the amount of time they spend with each patient. I was there from 9am to 2:45pm today.
She was awesome and saved us another wearisome trip to Columbus on Friday. Don't get me wrong - I am so, so thankful that facility is there. I love it and what they do and how they do it. But the travel part and "hanging-out" part is wearisome and fatigues my already depleted cells sometimes. Her "extra-mile" that she walked with me today saved me travel-fatigue, exposure, time, money, and saved Scott from another frazzled morning on red-break-light-mostly-stopped 315. He might have a stroke on there one day.
She also gave me a very helpful hint that is kind of a no-brainer if you think on it - but very useful. Next time I use an outside lab, have them use the veins in my arm and "save" the port for her. Yeah, we all should have thought of that one, but she is the one that was thinking about how to make my life better. My healing work. My chances improve on that poll.
God in heaven shined His face on us today. And we cannot be more grateful. He sent us an awesome nurse again that went to bat for me, and we were blessed.
Thank you for your prayers. God is showing me an ever unrolling process of how His kingdom works here on earth. I will never understand it all, but He keeps showing me and it impacts me, and I feel your prayers going to heaven on my behalf.
And I am on my face, on the ground, thankful.
*******
Our House Church went through Matthew last year and it clinks around in my brain still all that we learned. I don't know what Abby's faith is, but she is obviously living these verses, all because she wants what is best for me -- someone she may not see again, someone she did everything medically correct for today and could have walked away from my room that first hour satisfied.
But she walked that extra mile for me. Because that's who she is.
Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give. Matthew 10:8
If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you. Matthew 5:41-42
For the record, I didn't even ask her.
*******
Last week, when we got home in the afternoon, I purposely put my phone on the table out of hearing range, jotted a short note of my chemo-reject, and went to get ready to go outside. I put on my doctor sanctioned long, thick rubber gloves, chemo sun-hat, long sleeved shirt, thick jeans and pulled some weeds. That has been therapy for me for years, and still works.
Scott was out there with me. It was great to be working a little again, and it was great to be out there doing what we love together.
I couldn't talk about it anymore.
And Scott couldn't either. Every time I turned around he was sitting down and wiping a tear off of his face. I would sit down with him and rest. We would talk about my chemo, about the garden, plan some transplants and some improvements, then we would start up again. Then sit down again. Grieving it all on a beautiful sunny day, with perennials blooming much earlier than they should, making it beautiful to dwell on beyond expectation.
He was processing it all with great difficulty. It was a hard day but it was a good day. We love to putter in the garden together, and it's something we have done for years - together.
It is somewhat, somehow, healing.
All that to say, on that tornadic day, I think I saw an angel last week in the waiting room before my world started to revolve. When I get to heaven, whatever she/it was, I want to thank Him at His feet. It's a long story for another day, and I will tell it maybe, but all during that turbulent day I still cried when they told me the results and the subsequent chemo refusal, but there was a calm in my core. In my soul.
She turned and touched me and whispered something to me, and I know it touched my soul deeply, suddenly and intimately and I could not grasp it entirely, but it was light and calm before the darkness approached.
Somebody is praying great things over that place down there. And praying some great things over us. And God is moving and I still don't know what His ultimate plan is, but I know that He is prompting me on the journey.
And I know my red blood cells did something this past week that they were not supposed to be able to do.
I got this from a friend this week who has gone through some seriously scary and painful medical issues that were beyond my comprehension. I had told her that sometimes the tears just came - they were not from depression; not anger or fear sometimes, even though sometimes they are; but they just seemed somehow cleansing. A lifetime of cleansing seeping out of my tear ducts unawares.
She answered:
This week I pray that you will have an awesome week...not just better,but awesome..God wants to pour out his love on you and Scott!! Tears are very therapeutic..and emptying...I remember when I was in a hospital (can't remember which one..some of it is a blur) and I was so wanting for the onslaught to be over..it was one barrage after another...My husband brought to mind the story of Jesus calming the storm when they were on a boat.."ENOUGH" he said and the wind and waves ceased..I wanted Him to do that again....I pictured that over in my mind..knowing He is able...He is Awesome!! We are His children and He does love and carry us!! So expect great things this week..Go in His power..wow...
And that is what has happened this past week - there have been some horrible storms, but with encouragement, I am envisioning a Savior that I follow and I envision Him shouting at it all "ENOUGH"!! And I am blessed beyond words and maybe met an angel to boot.
What kind of a God is that?
I am beginning to believe something that I have known, and believed and even taught to others - but I am beginning to 'know' on a different level what kind of a God we have - and that He listens to others on my behalf is not something I can put my arms around again and again. I don't know the ending destination of this journey, but I am beginning to know better a God that truly does watch you be thrown into the fiery furnace and truly does hear.
And truly, walks in that furnace with us. When people around us count how many were thrown into that furnace, I hope they see an additional "one" walking with us.**
There are others that are walking an even hotter fire than I this week, so I pray for them. Because He is walking with me, I pray that the flames may not overtake them as well, that He walks in there with them.
And if you think that note was awesome, and it was, you should meet the House Church people behind us that God himself lined up. And old friends coming to shelter us, guard us, pray over us and help us out so we will have a place to live this time next year. I'd love to have you meet two earnest young men that pray a prayer of healing over us. You should see the cards I get in the mail - some unsigned and playful, giving us something to think about, investigate, wonder over. Some, touching my soul with their outpouring of love and words.
It has been overwhelming, because I of all people, did not expect this. God giving me nurses that are beyond their pay-levels. God providing for us in ways that are humbling, yet full of wonderment. God lining up people to be that encouragement, that day, to enable us to take one more step, to go on and continue.
******
Daniel 3:
**Then Nebuchadnezzar was furious with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and his attitude toward them changed. He ordered the furnace heated seven times hotter than usual and commanded some of the strongest soldiers in his army to tie up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace. So these men, wearing their robes, trousers, turbans and other clothes, were bound and thrown into the blazing furnace. The king’s command was so urgent and the furnace so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and these three men, firmly tied, fell into the blazing furnace.
Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, “Weren’t there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?”
They replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty.”
He said, “Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.”
Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!”
So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire, and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them. They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.
Then Nebuchadnezzar said, “Praise be to the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, who has sent his angel and rescued his servants! They trusted in him and defied the king’s command and were willing to give up their lives rather than serve or worship any god except their own God. Therefore I decree that the people of any nation or language who say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego be cut into pieces and their houses be turned into piles of rubble, for no other god can save in this way.”
*******
Whether we walk out of the fire or not, I pray we live our lives in ways that make people drop their jaw at times and see the "One" walking in the midst of it with us. I'm not quite there yet, but He still is walking it with me.
*******
And right now, I'm guessing you all are very thankful that I didn't get the nurse that gives the steroids too fast helping my brain stay awake all night and recall butchering turkeys and other frightful events in my life.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
A note of concern........
I am driving today. Scott is hugely concerned.
The last time I drove was the first week in February. That is also the last time I made it into work coincidentally.
As they have decreased my dose of some of the chemo drugs, my vision is better this week. My brain and comprehension have improved. I have even been able to finally read some - which has been amazingly pleasurable, I might add.
On the other hand, after talking to both of my daughters yesterday on the phone, my hearing seems somewhat sketchy still. I'm guessing I said "WHAT?" maybe 849 times. That can be attributed to the chemo, but I'm guessing it's more of a 'karen-meets-fifty' thing.
And in case you wonder, they did laugh.
I am still just a little clutzy, a little walking into doorposts for some reason, so we are a little bit anxious to see how this whole driving thing works out.
And my reflexes have not had a test like this for while...... Um yeah, I will be that car on the road that is stopped one half mile behind the amish buggy, waiting.
*******
The plan for this week is to have my blood drawn somewhere closer to home that knows how to access my port. Samaritan Hospital is capable, but I cannot tell you the frenzy that my brain is in suddenly realizing I am not walking into a cancer center that is concerned with little else than protecting their patients from germs. And I am sure that Samaritan is as well, but they have all kinds of patients there - not just cancer patients avoiding germs like cats avoid large bodies of water. For all I know there could be a flesh eating bacteria patient in the next room. And those germs do jump - I have flipped through a few tv channels the last couple of months.
I am inclined to carry my hand sanitizer with me. I have become the worst germ-a-phobe in Ashland County. Card carrying alcoholics do better walking past a bar.
But, the idea is to get my blood tested close to home today - if it's good, I travel to Columbus to get my chemo tomorrow. If it's not, I go back in Thursday and have it tested again, then hopefully, get chemo on Friday, so I will not miss a whole week again.
And if you wonder, I have not had a flash in the sky answer from God about which path to choose chemo-wise, but I am leaning towards staying in the study, with reasons that might be better talked about another day.
*******
My friend long ago taught an "aerobics class" as we called heavy breathing exercise then, and as most of us out-of-shapers in the class were basically dying with lack of lung space gasping for needed oxygen, she was smiling and yelling and coaching us on. She used some tunes for the workouts that are still enblazened in my brain and every time I do anything that involves more than the usual oxygen intake, I hear them again.
I am using several of them now for my walks or "work-outs" - if you want to call them that - and they are listed in my 'youtube-tunes-list' as my "fighter" songs. (don't be too impressed - I usually pass out on the couch for four hours afterwards. But, if I can do nothing else for my body, my cells will be oxygenated.)
Some days, I'm not sure I am going to make it for twenty minutes. Some days, I'm not sure I am going to make it for two minutes. Some days, I am angry when I hear this song. Some days, I don't believe the words. But it always, makes me keep going - at least for the three minutes and twenty-eight seconds that the song is playing.
And it keeps playing over and over in my brain.
This is quite a blast from the past if you will. Go ahead, don't be shy - turn it up a little. (sorry about the video pics - it was the 80s afterall...)
But the words, the words of this song -- "We're surrounded by His love and guarded by His power.....until the battle's over"......
And you know I do not believe that we are given easy lives - I don't take that from the song - that "hey, any battle that comes along, we are going to win, ya'all - Yay!". And you also know I don't like some of the North American church attitude about "Christ on our side", snub your neighbors - your side is bad. But I do take this for a good "marching" song for the battle. No matter what or where or why, with the cloud of the Lord God Almighty before us, we go. To the battle, to the fight, to the journey, to the end.
This songs to all the people
With light in their hearts
And love in their eyes.
You don't have to worry
When the mountains seem of infinite size.
There is one who goes before you to calm the sea.
There's a king who leads his people to victory.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
We all get discouraged
When the pressures of life start weighing us down
We've learned that in his footsteps
Crosses in life must precede the crowns.
There is one who goes before you
To calm the sea.
There's a king who leads his people to victory.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
We've got to remember
It's our destiny to win the end
With Christ on our side
We are Destined to Win.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
(and yeah, you can double check me, but I hate misquoted Scripture, and I think, think, that Jesus did not go before them and calm the sea. He calmed it while they were in the midst of the storm, but it's still a worthy song, eh?)
The last time I drove was the first week in February. That is also the last time I made it into work coincidentally.
As they have decreased my dose of some of the chemo drugs, my vision is better this week. My brain and comprehension have improved. I have even been able to finally read some - which has been amazingly pleasurable, I might add.
On the other hand, after talking to both of my daughters yesterday on the phone, my hearing seems somewhat sketchy still. I'm guessing I said "WHAT?" maybe 849 times. That can be attributed to the chemo, but I'm guessing it's more of a 'karen-meets-fifty' thing.
And in case you wonder, they did laugh.
I am still just a little clutzy, a little walking into doorposts for some reason, so we are a little bit anxious to see how this whole driving thing works out.
And my reflexes have not had a test like this for while...... Um yeah, I will be that car on the road that is stopped one half mile behind the amish buggy, waiting.
*******
The plan for this week is to have my blood drawn somewhere closer to home that knows how to access my port. Samaritan Hospital is capable, but I cannot tell you the frenzy that my brain is in suddenly realizing I am not walking into a cancer center that is concerned with little else than protecting their patients from germs. And I am sure that Samaritan is as well, but they have all kinds of patients there - not just cancer patients avoiding germs like cats avoid large bodies of water. For all I know there could be a flesh eating bacteria patient in the next room. And those germs do jump - I have flipped through a few tv channels the last couple of months.
I am inclined to carry my hand sanitizer with me. I have become the worst germ-a-phobe in Ashland County. Card carrying alcoholics do better walking past a bar.
But, the idea is to get my blood tested close to home today - if it's good, I travel to Columbus to get my chemo tomorrow. If it's not, I go back in Thursday and have it tested again, then hopefully, get chemo on Friday, so I will not miss a whole week again.
And if you wonder, I have not had a flash in the sky answer from God about which path to choose chemo-wise, but I am leaning towards staying in the study, with reasons that might be better talked about another day.
*******
My friend long ago taught an "aerobics class" as we called heavy breathing exercise then, and as most of us out-of-shapers in the class were basically dying with lack of lung space gasping for needed oxygen, she was smiling and yelling and coaching us on. She used some tunes for the workouts that are still enblazened in my brain and every time I do anything that involves more than the usual oxygen intake, I hear them again.
I am using several of them now for my walks or "work-outs" - if you want to call them that - and they are listed in my 'youtube-tunes-list' as my "fighter" songs. (don't be too impressed - I usually pass out on the couch for four hours afterwards. But, if I can do nothing else for my body, my cells will be oxygenated.)
Some days, I'm not sure I am going to make it for twenty minutes. Some days, I'm not sure I am going to make it for two minutes. Some days, I am angry when I hear this song. Some days, I don't believe the words. But it always, makes me keep going - at least for the three minutes and twenty-eight seconds that the song is playing.
And it keeps playing over and over in my brain.
This is quite a blast from the past if you will. Go ahead, don't be shy - turn it up a little. (sorry about the video pics - it was the 80s afterall...)
But the words, the words of this song -- "We're surrounded by His love and guarded by His power.....until the battle's over"......
And you know I do not believe that we are given easy lives - I don't take that from the song - that "hey, any battle that comes along, we are going to win, ya'all - Yay!". And you also know I don't like some of the North American church attitude about "Christ on our side", snub your neighbors - your side is bad. But I do take this for a good "marching" song for the battle. No matter what or where or why, with the cloud of the Lord God Almighty before us, we go. To the battle, to the fight, to the journey, to the end.
This songs to all the people
With light in their hearts
And love in their eyes.
You don't have to worry
When the mountains seem of infinite size.
There is one who goes before you to calm the sea.
There's a king who leads his people to victory.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
We all get discouraged
When the pressures of life start weighing us down
We've learned that in his footsteps
Crosses in life must precede the crowns.
There is one who goes before you
To calm the sea.
There's a king who leads his people to victory.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
We've got to remember
It's our destiny to win the end
With Christ on our side
We are Destined to Win.
We are Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
Destined to Win
We're surrounded by his Love
And guarded by his power.
Destined to Win
Following the Lord until the battles over.
We are Destined to Win
(and yeah, you can double check me, but I hate misquoted Scripture, and I think, think, that Jesus did not go before them and calm the sea. He calmed it while they were in the midst of the storm, but it's still a worthy song, eh?)
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