A reminder of where I was

This morning I had an MRI to check a spot on my liver.  They found it during an ultrasound I had done after a gall bladder attack.  Spots on a patient who has had cancer demands a follow-up MRI. 

The whole thing had me plunged back in fear.  Fear of the unknown.  Fear of cancer again.  Fear of grief.

And I have been so disappointed in myself.  I thought I had reached a new level of fearlessness after breast cancer.  Instead, my learned behavior—to give in to fear—took over just as easily as if I had no awareness of all the Lord has done for me up to this point.  And I cried out to the Lord so many times with tears streaming down my face to take the fear away from me—because on this side of my cancer treatments, I now know what it feels like to live without fear, and I do NOT want to have that feeling of fear again.  Fear makes me sick—both spiritually and emotionally.

I’m sure the enemy enjoys seeing me like that.

I don’t know what made this afternoon special.  We still don’t know the results of the MRI. But sometime this afternoon in my anguish as I clung to Jesus in prayer, I finally felt fear release me and God’s peace come over me.  Ah.  Now that feels right.  Lord, pour your love and peace over me until there is no way to escape it.

A friend of mine encouraged me to read my entries and remember how far I have come.  I am putting a few highlights below, I thought some of them might help you in your circumstances. I will say this.  Yes, I gave in to fear for a few days.  But I knew it wasn’t right, and prayed to the Lord to release me from it, and trusted He would do so.  And He did.   I don’t know how long this feeling of peace will last.  But I do know that the Lord is faithful.

Please pray for me as I am of all things--still just a scared girl now…Let's not go to the "What If" world unless the Lord decides that's where we are going with this.   God is good and faithful in all things.

Our bodies belong to the Lord, and His will be done with mine.  When this time is over, I know I will look back and have yet another great witness to His faithfulness and love for me! 

This healing is a small thing compared to what He healed me of before, and an even smaller thing compared to what He healed me of when he paid the price for my sin by being nailed to the cross.

Thank you Jesus, for being so gracious that you have given me another example in my life of how you never do things half way.  Forgive me when I don't always believe that you will go the distance with me. 

I am not frozen in fear.  I am certain the Lord has control of this situation, as He does with every part of our lives.  I have always believed that, but this cancer has been a whopping gulp of evidence of His faithfulness and I am beginning to KNOW that he is in control.  All I need to do is stand still and watch Him work. 

I have no intention of spending any more energy wondering if His answer will be different for us this time. 

I have always been afraid of cancer.  Then I had it.  And I am no longer afraid.  In fact, the Lord is helping me to break free of all sorts of ridiculous fears I have entertained over the decades of my life through this.  Peace is building within me!  Joy is overflowing!  I am not afraid.  Praise Jesus, for once in my life, I do not feel fear.  I don't love that I got cancer.  But I am thankful that I did.  Because on this side of it, HOPE can sing free of fear!

It is time to do battle (Joshua 1:9) and I am ready.  He will not let my foot be moved (Psalm 121:3)!  For once in my life, I finally know what it feels like to NOT BE AFRAID.  To God be the glory for a miracle like THAT!! 

I guess everyone thought I was going to shrink into a corner of my house and mourn the summer away.  And to tell you the truth, I pretty much thought that was indeed what I was going to do.  But God--let me repeat that--but God has different plans!  

That’s right.  My head is bald, and I have Orpah feet.  But Jesus fights for me with all that He is.  He does the same for you…but I wonder.  Are we too busy running away on our Orpah feet to recognize we are called to stand firm with a heart like Ruth?   Sweet Jesus, create in me a heart like Ruth!!  I want to see first-hand your provision and faithfulness!!

I firmly acknowledge that I am doing this well because I am covered in prayer.  A peace that passes understanding is my song and if you know me, you know what a miracle that is.

I am relieved to be reaching the end of this stretch, and know that I have been held tight in the palm of the Lord’s hand through it all. But more importantly, through this experience I have found peace that passes understanding—something I have always desired, but never really experienced until now!  I pray fervently that I will not lose that.

And I know in that moment, the Lord and I shared something that I will never forget. Because He has done a miracle in me, and I will not be quiet.

How often do I allow myself to be overwhelmed and not go to the Lord?  Before I began this journey, it was a lot. Some journeys can make you feel overwhelmed.  I pray that you will recognize those moments for what they are, drop everything, and go to the rock.

I am getting my body back.  But I have been thinking, what I am I getting it back for?  Will I return to the way I was?  I don’t want to forget where I was and where I am now.  For the Lord has done a mighty work in me.  My Creator has set me free from the bondage of fear and I have learned to love Him deeper than I ever thought possible.  Sweet Jesus, may I never forget.

Jesus, carefully and tenderly showed me how to not live in fear.  He used the diagnosis of cancer to do it.  You may not think that was very caring or tender, but I am here to tell you it was the most caring and tender thing He has ever done for me.  Because now I live the way He intended—content in the circumstances, trusting Him with my ALL.   May I never forget.

He showed me how faithful He is by letting me have cancer.  Because through this experience, I have been drawn closer to His throne than ever before.  And that has allowed me to finally accept a gift that He has been offering me for a long time that I have refused to accept--the gift of peace.  He was faithful to put me in a situation to make sure I could accept that gift and enjoy its full potential.

He changes lives with unfailing faithfulness.

My mistake about God’s faithfulness

For 7 weeks this fall, I made my way down to the radiation department to receive treatment for breast cancer.   The ladies dressing room is at the end of the hall, and before you get there, you have to pass the room where the kids are getting sedated for their radiation treatment.  They lay there in their hospital beds, starting to doze off with their fuzzy blankets up to their chins and you would probably never know something was wrong with them except for the fact that they are in that particular room and they are usually bald.

But even that isn’t as unsettling to me as their parents.  Usually there is a parent sitting in a chair, head on their child’s bed.  And always, always, holding their child’s hand.  The parents are so obviously exhausted, worried, and sometimes you can clearly recognize the dazed look on their faces—still in shock perhaps by the fact that they are facing something that must seem completely inconceivable. The whole thing just doesn’t seem natural, but somehow you are living through it anyway.

And everyday I walked by that room, the Lord whispered to me “I am faithful, Nancy.” 

And I wanted to believe that.  But in those times, it sure was hard to believe that the Lord is faithful.

It was hard because I had made a big mistake regarding His faithfulness. 

Now that my hair is coming back, it has become a huge topic of conversation.  The main themes have been the following: Yes, I am wearing these bandanas until I have proper bangs.  Yes, my BFF and I dyed my hair because the sides came in gray and I don’t like that.  Yes, I look like a baby chick when the bandanas are off because my hair sticks straight up. 

And always those conversations end with me saying that God is faithful. And I know that some of those who hear me say that think I am saying God is faithful because I am cancer free. But that daily trek down to radiation therapy seeing those precious bald heads and their exhausted parents changed my understanding of His faithfulness.

He showed me how faithful He is by letting me have cancer.  Because through this experience, I have been drawn closer to His throne than ever before.  And that has allowed me to finally accept a gift that He has been offering me for a long time that I have refused to accept--the gift of peace.  He was faithful to put me in a situation to make sure I could accept that gift and enjoy its full potential.

Because we were never meant to live in a spirit of discontent.  A spirit of fear.  A spirit of grief.

And Oh.  Let me tell you.  Accepting the gift of peace from the Prince of Peace….well, it will quite frankly change your life.     

Because that is what he does.  He changes lives. 

He does that with unfailing faithfulness.

To be content in all situations…is that possible?

Tomorrow is my last radiation treatment.  Just typing it on this computer makes tears stream down my face.  Good thing I can type without looking.  Rejoice with me, I beg you!  For the Lord is perfect in His faithfulness.

I was supposed to experience chronic fatigue from these 7 weeks of radiation treatments.  After all, I’ve had the radiation equivalent of 1,168 typical chest X-rays.  But that never happened, and I have been telling anyone who will listen that I am covered in prayer and hedged in by God! 

Tomorrow night, Vern will remove the tape off of my 7 marks.  I’m sure that the big fat blue marker lines (still smiling with that phrase) that the tape protected will take a few weeks to come off completely, but tomorrow is sure to be an emotional day.  I am getting my body back. 

But I have been thinking, what I am I getting it back for?  Will I return to the way I was?  I don’t want to forget where I was and where I am now.  For the Lord has done a mighty work in me.  My Creator has set me free from the bondage of fear and I have learned to love Him deeper than I ever thought possible.  Sweet Jesus, may I never forget.

May I never forget the moment and spot on the road that I was driving on when Dr. Wallner called to say it was cancer. May I never forget how my friends and family flooded me with scriptures that I kept in my pockets those many months. May I never forget that day Dr. Klemow told me I would need chemotherapy.  I was so devastated and heart broken.  So fearful and numb. May I never forget jumping on the bed at 1AM after my first steroid dose. May I never forget Nurse Ida in the infusion clinic who could get me in and out in 2 hours flat. May I never forget the kids cutting off my hair because it was falling out anyway. May I never forget to encourage others in their moments of deepest fear and despair.  There have been so many I have met along the way, and I have become seasoned to recognize that fear and despair even behind the masks people wear.   We were never meant to live that way.

I’ve had the privilege last week of teaching a unit on contentment to our 5^th and 6^th graders at church based on Philippians 4:11b-12: “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. ¹² I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”   In those verses, Paul talks about how he has learned to be content.  But it meant nothing to those kids until we read through 2 Corinthians 11:23-27 where Paul lists all the trials he had been through.  Then, the fact that he had learned to be content actually meant something to them.  I’m sure it meant something more to Paul too after he had been through some stuff. 

Jesus, carefully and tenderly showed me how to not live in fear.  He used the diagnosis of cancer to do it.  You may not think that was very caring or tender, but I am here to tell you it was the most caring and tender thing He has ever done for me.  Because now I live the way He intended—content in the circumstances, trusting Him with my ALL.   May I never forget.

Big Fat Blue Marker Part 2

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10-5-12:  Big Fat Blue Marker Part 2

Hey, Guys!  Hope this finds you well. Today, I finished my 6^th week of radiation treatment.  Next week, I will have 5 “boost” treatments and then I am DONE with radiation.  Which is a good thing, because my pink square is now a red square.

So yesterday, my appointment was longer than usual, because they had to draw some new marks on me.  This one is a circle.

So in honor of my new circle drawn in BIG FAT BLUE MARKER on my chest, I thought someone might like to read BIG FAT BLUE MARKER PART 1, which I wrote 3 weeks ago.  Just insert “4 inch diameter circle” wherever you read “12 by 12 inch square”, and that’s pretty much the experience I had with the circle doodling on my chest this week.  Here ya go:

I am three weeks into radiation treatments, and all is going well.  The treatments are done in the building next to mine, and it’s just a quick 30 minutes and I am back to work.  The staff are great, just as exceptional as the oncology clinics upstairs.

Three weeks ago before radiation therapy started, I went into Radiation Oncology to “get my marks”.  You see, in order to line up the machine correctly for radiation treatments, they have to mark your body so that the marks on your body line up with the grid on the machine. 

I had a grand time at that appointment!

You see, growing up, we were always told to be careful with markers because marker doesn’t come off of clothes, or skin or walls or anything else for that matter very well.

And there was the technician with her fat blue marker, drawing on my skin as if she had never been taught that rule.

I busted out laughing at one point, and the technician said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I know this can tickle a bit”.

I told her that I wasn’t laughing because it tickled.  I told her I was laughing because she just drew a 12 INCH BY 12 INCH SQUARE ON MY BODY IN FAT BLUE MARKER.

I smiled broadly at her—because honestly, when am I ever going to have someone draw a 12 INCH BY 12 INCH SQUARE ON MY BODY IN FAT BLUE MARKER again?

It was fabulous, and I’ve been giggling about it ever since.

So I got to thinking about other experiences I have had in my life that still have me giggling.  I hope one will come to your mind today, too.  And if one doesn’t come to mind—well, I recommend that you go draw a 12 INCH BY 12 INCH SQUARE ON YOUR BODY IN FAT BLUE MARKER!  That will fix you right up.

My Pink Square and the Hot Shot

9-29-12

I have a pink square on my chest from radiation.  It’s so bizarre, I feel like I want to stand in the middle of the yard and just say it 20 times!  My doctor tells me it’s perfectly normal and very mild.  But since I have never seen a pink square on anybody else’s chest, I have no reference point.  Pure 100% aloe vera applied 4 times a day keeps me pretty comfortable.  I wonder what the other cancer ladies in the waiting room down in radiology would say if I walked in one morning and said “I have a pink square on my chest!”  They are all so sweet, I am sure they would be quick to tell me it’s normal and mild too.  Because hey.  We can all sit around with pink squares on our bodies outlined in fat blue marker.

I complained to my radiologist this week about my fatigue from the radiation.  He leaned forward with genuine concern and asked me what kind of fatigue I am experiencing.  I got really serious, and told him that I have to sleep 6 hours a night, I can actually nap for real on Sunday afternoon, and am quite content to sit on the couch and watch the “Garling’s Get Ready for the Next Day” show on the weekdays without otherwise participating.  He smiled, put down his little book, and gently told me my symptoms were very mild.  OK, mild to YOU, Hot Shot, but it’s fatigue to me, and you ought to write it in your little book.  Next week I am totally making something up so he will write in his book.  Sheesh.

Isn’t the Lord good?  Praise Jesus, my fatigue is mild and unworthy of the ink in my radiologist’s pen!

And I have a pink square on my chest!

My Giant Ziplock Bag

Have you ever known you were supposed to do something, but just couldn’t bring yourself to do it?  Maybe you convince yourself the timing isn’t right, or you just aren’t going to do it as well as people who have gone before you, or that it’s just another one of your strange ideas that will go away in a few months.

I’ve been thinking exactly that, up until today. 

You see, this morning, a friend of mine began a journey that will be a huge challenge for her. It will test her courage.  It will test her faith in God.  It will test her humor and drain her strength.  I know this because I have been on a similar journey, and so she has been on my mind and in my prayers all day. 

So no more hiding behind bad excuses.  It’s time to be transparent.

The first thing I did was go into my closet and find my giant ziplock bag.  I had mixed feelings digging it out—my hospital wrist bands are in there, all the cards I got, pathology reports, anything that had to do with my experience.  I pawed through all of that looking for those worn out pieces of paper with scripture verses written on them that I carried around for most of my journey.

Did I mention that when I got out of surgery, we discovered that my surgical team actually taped those scripture verses I had written to my hand so they wouldn’t slip out of my fingers while I was in surgery?

I knew the Lord intended for me to share with my friend the scripture that would be on the first one I came across.

And there it was; a folded up wad of well-worn paper with a scripture verse written in green pen.  Psalm 61:2.  “From the ends of the earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety.”

Overwhelmed.  Yes, that is it.  A familiar feeling, but one that the Lord never intended for us to know so well.  But the Psalmist provides the solution.  Go to the rock. 

And I wonder.  How often do I allow myself to be overwhelmed and not go to the Lord?  Before I began this journey, it was a lot.  My “To Do” list is simply huge, and the world had tricked me into thinking that being busy all the time with the “To Do” lists of this world is natural.  It is not natural.  We were not meant to live like that.  But now on this side of my journey, I know that even if that list is 200 items long, what I really need is to cling to Jesus.  Only there am I truly safe and at peace.

Some journeys can make you feel overwhelmed.  I pray that you will recognize those moments for what they are, drop everything, and go to the rock.