Last week, I gave you some updates about Dan - now I give you some clarification.
One: Dan still has cancer. The abnormal T-cells in his blood is the cancer. The spinal fluid is showing that the T-cells are currently hanging out there...and fewer T-cells are in the blood. So, the chemo approach and dosage has to change.
Dan is not getting the same chemo rotation that he's had in the past. He will not be getting a spinal tap of chemo. Instead, he is getting high dose methotrexate, which will penetrate the brain-blood barrier. This will be delivered through his port, like all his other chemo has been. In order to get this chemo, though, his body pH has to be an alkaline state. [Currently, it's 9:10pm, and we are waiting on Dan to get to 7.1 so he can get the chemo. I don't know if he is normally at a pretty acidic state, but - we sure didn't think it'd take this long.]
Once he's alkaline, he'll get the chemo - which should take 2 hours. This chemo is unique from the others, in that, it will not wipe his body of the blood cells (or whatever chemo does). He will not need to get a shot to boost the bone marrow's production of white blood cells. So, that's good. After getting this chemo, he'll keep getting fluids via IV and his kidney production will be monitored to make sure that everything is functioning properly. He will get released when the levels of methotrexate in his body are 0.1.
So: for those who read this tonight (or tomorrow, prayer knows no time constraints) here are some things to ask for - that Dan will reach the alkaline state soon and chemo will get started. 2) That his kidney & liver keep functioning normally (as they have been), so that he can get released sooner rather than later. 3) That the chemo WORKS and kills those blasted abnormal t-cells.
In two weeks, Dan will come back for a lumbar puncture to measure the levels of T-cells in his spinal fluid. If there are no abnormal T-cells, then he is done with chemo. If there are abnormal T-cells, then, he will have chemo like this until it's gone.
Once there are no abnormal T-cells, then we will move forward with the bone marrow transplant. Some people have asked details about this. We don't know ANYTHING yet. Like, ANYTHING. A request has been submitted with the transplant team for us to have a meeting. Nothing else is in the works - and, it's not the primary focus right now.
At any rate, from where I sit right now, we are not at the end. However, as I keep learning, "the best laid plans of mice and man often go awry." So...who knows? Tomorrow I may have different information for you.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Friday, December 4, 2015
Updates
Sometimes, answering prayers doesn't look the way you want it to.
This week, Dan got a call from our doctor that his pesky abnormal T-cells are showing up in his spinal fluid. This has flummoxed our doctor (her words). He should be responding to those spinal taps of chemo, and the T-cells should be responding in such a way that there aren't those pesky abnormal T-cells.
So, this next round of chemo (which, God-willing, is the last) is going to entail Dan spending 3 (or more) days at the U of M hospital receiving a higher dosage of one of the CHOP+E drugs. How long he stays will depend on how well his body does at excreting the stuff. This dosage is supposed to get past the brain/blood barrier - so those blasted little cancer cells get good and dead.
 |
| Cartoon courtesy of the Awkward Yeti; props to the lovely Andrea for sharing [she is not an awkward yeti] |
So, why the presence of the abnormal T-cell? This is the perplexing nature of Dan's case. If Dan still has his immune system, post-chemo...could this all happen again - even with the rigorous nature - even with the preventative spinal tap chemo? I believe this is why our doctor is strongly considering the bone marrow transplant.
[Look I've just written 4 paragraphs without talking about my feelings.]
My feelings. Well, the first feelings were dis - disappointment, discouragement, dismay, disheartened, disillusioned, distraught, distrustful (of God). I mean, wouldn't the miracle of this be that Dan was all better with only chemo? Wouldn't that show God's power the most? Wouldn't that show His love the most? Wouldn't that impress people the most and then they'd want to be friends with the God who takes care of his friends like so awesomely?
right?
Hi. I'm Jessica, and I think I know best.
The truth is - I want that. I want that path of least resistance. (Who wouldn't?)
...and yet...what I really want most for Dan is COMPLETE HEALING. I want his whole body restored. I want him to never be sick again like he has been (the entire time I've known him). ...and, that just might take more than some horrible chemicals. Maybe it requires a complete overhaul. Maybe it requires someone else's blood.
[cue storyline that coincides with the Gospel.]
[but I won't.]
[for now.]
[because I just saw the connection and have nothing ready to say.]
...and just so you know, I have been struggling lately. This news hit me really hard...mostly because I didn't expect it...and it really hit my faith - mostly because I was putting parameters on God - His will and His love for me. If I do that, I will be disappointed every time. That's not who God is, and that's not how God loves. So, to be where I am today, has required some acts of faith - to choose to believe that God can work good in any situation, and to trust that God can work in lots of ways - and most of them are never what I expect.
Oh! and also that God's timing isn't my timing (which, as I said to my brother the other night, is the story of my life - so you'd think I'd stop being so surprised by it's reality).
[Hi; I'm Jessica, and I think I know best.]
Sunday, November 8, 2015
I can do hard things
This is a hard post to write because I don't know where to start. My birthday is Saturday - and we all know how I much I LOVE birthdays. This is not sarcasm; I actually LOVE birthdays - especially mine. Okay, let's be honest, mostly mine. Everyone else's sneaks up on me and I drop the birthday ball. ...but, birthdays always put me in that reflective mindset...and this year (especially) is no different.
I broke down in church today during the Eucharist. All out - tears flowing, snot dripping - crying as I thought about this last year...and the complete juxtaposition that it has been.
A year ago, I was fresh off reaching my weight loss goal (50# down in 5 months!). Dan was 35# lighter; I was excited about my job again; I was helping other people get healthier; life was really good. I got two great birthday celebrations - one with Dan to my favorite Tucson restaurant (Cafe A'la C'Art) before he left for Louisville, one with my closest Tucson girl friends checking out downtown Tucson.
The first half of the year really was all about personal growth in my health coaching business. I realized some truths about what was holding me back from reaching goals, and I learned to confront the chatter that threatens to keep me from being my best self. On top of that, I was helping a lot of people make some positive changes in their lives. The icing on the cake was reaching a goal that I had set for myself to be actively helping about 25 people reach their goals.
Besides the growth in my business, I was also reaching new strides in my own health. When my cousin decided to run a 10K in May, and her sister decided to join her - and then they challenged me, I got on board. At first, I congratulated them for doing it because "I don't like running that much." When Amy challenged me to do it, I thought, "Well, I have been wanting some thing to work toward!"
Training for that 10K is probably one of the highlights of my year. It was just so much fun to send texts back and forth encouraging each other to "do the hard thing!" It was great to commiserate on those long runs that sucked - and celebrate after those runs that result in the infamous "runner's high." Did I mention the 10K was in Iowa - and so were my cousins? Distance didn't matter much.
Running the race with them was the best capstone. It was hard. It was good. It was long. AND I got to surprise my mom for Mother's Day (she didn't know I was coming back to run it)!
My cousin Amy's 8th grade PE class was training for this 10K - that's how the shenanigans started. In their religious ed class, they were reading a book called "Do Hard Things." Essentially, the book challenges people to do the things that seem hard or unpleasant - physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Reflecting on my past year, I realized that is my theme.
The first half was about taking the reigns and pushing myself...and the second half has been holding on for dear life. I mentioned in a couple of posts ago, but it is LITERALLY only by God's grace that I am able to stand and function on a pretty regular basis. If I were to put my feelings into a picture it'd be:
Begin scene - Jessica is riding in the saddle (which is not a place she's comfortable, btw), sauntering along, enjoying the scenery; she gains some confidence, and starts out at a trot, then picks up some more speed, and she's still in control! Look at her behind the reigns; go, Jessica, go! ...and then, something spooks the horse - and Jessica slips in the saddle! Oh no, she's barely hanging on - her legs are flailing everywhere; she has no idea what's happening or how to get up - or off without dying...and she's wondering where help will come from.
And, then help comes, and she's rescued - somehow - she has no idea how...but she seems to be in a safe place now. Though stationery, she still feels like the world is running out of control; like she could fall at any point; like danger is near.
Will Jessica ever get back in the saddle again?
I don't know. Time will tell, I guess.
The first half of the year, I chose the hard thing that I would conquer. I was in control. The second half, the hard thing chose me. ...and it didn't even choose me, it chose Dan. It chose what I love most - who I love most...and even though things are looking good, and Dan is feeling better than he has - I am still scared.
In the Gospel reading today, Jesus praised the widow who gave her two mites because she gave all that she had. Out of her poverty, she gave - and the rest of us give out of our abundance. Imagine the courage that it took for her to give "all that she had". She had to depend upon God to supply her needs because she just gave him her all. Imagine the trust to open her hand and let go of these two coins that meant life. Imagine the love that she must have for him, believing that she matters to him, that he will not let her fall.
That has been the question before me the last six months. Will I let go of my deathgrip (how appropo) on my life, on my marriage, on myself - and let God in? Will I trust him to bring new life into a hopeless situation? Will I let his will be done in my life? ...will I walk by faith and not by sight?
Baby steps. Sometimes, I run. Sometimes, there is so much light and hope in my life, that I just open up my arms and twirl around and can't wait for an eternity of Jesus' presence. ...and sometimes, I am weak. Sometimes, I am afraid that the world will fall around me. Sometimes, I am angry at things I can't even put into words. Sometimes, the chatter wins.
I realized this morning that all I want to do is go back. I want to go back to the first half of this year. I want to go back to that Jessica - strong, powerful, focused Jessica. ...and by showing me that, God gently nudged my heart and said, "Further on, further up, further in, Jessica. I want to take you to a new place. Will you be open to new life, Jessica?"
So.
If I learned anything this year, it's that I can do hard things [through Christ who strengthens me, right Mom?]. I can do hard things - like let God bring new life, and let go of the old.
I broke down in church today during the Eucharist. All out - tears flowing, snot dripping - crying as I thought about this last year...and the complete juxtaposition that it has been.
A year ago, I was fresh off reaching my weight loss goal (50# down in 5 months!). Dan was 35# lighter; I was excited about my job again; I was helping other people get healthier; life was really good. I got two great birthday celebrations - one with Dan to my favorite Tucson restaurant (Cafe A'la C'Art) before he left for Louisville, one with my closest Tucson girl friends checking out downtown Tucson.
The first half of the year really was all about personal growth in my health coaching business. I realized some truths about what was holding me back from reaching goals, and I learned to confront the chatter that threatens to keep me from being my best self. On top of that, I was helping a lot of people make some positive changes in their lives. The icing on the cake was reaching a goal that I had set for myself to be actively helping about 25 people reach their goals.
Besides the growth in my business, I was also reaching new strides in my own health. When my cousin decided to run a 10K in May, and her sister decided to join her - and then they challenged me, I got on board. At first, I congratulated them for doing it because "I don't like running that much." When Amy challenged me to do it, I thought, "Well, I have been wanting some thing to work toward!"
Training for that 10K is probably one of the highlights of my year. It was just so much fun to send texts back and forth encouraging each other to "do the hard thing!" It was great to commiserate on those long runs that sucked - and celebrate after those runs that result in the infamous "runner's high." Did I mention the 10K was in Iowa - and so were my cousins? Distance didn't matter much.
Running the race with them was the best capstone. It was hard. It was good. It was long. AND I got to surprise my mom for Mother's Day (she didn't know I was coming back to run it)!
My cousin Amy's 8th grade PE class was training for this 10K - that's how the shenanigans started. In their religious ed class, they were reading a book called "Do Hard Things." Essentially, the book challenges people to do the things that seem hard or unpleasant - physically, emotionally, spiritually.
Reflecting on my past year, I realized that is my theme.
The first half was about taking the reigns and pushing myself...and the second half has been holding on for dear life. I mentioned in a couple of posts ago, but it is LITERALLY only by God's grace that I am able to stand and function on a pretty regular basis. If I were to put my feelings into a picture it'd be:
Begin scene - Jessica is riding in the saddle (which is not a place she's comfortable, btw), sauntering along, enjoying the scenery; she gains some confidence, and starts out at a trot, then picks up some more speed, and she's still in control! Look at her behind the reigns; go, Jessica, go! ...and then, something spooks the horse - and Jessica slips in the saddle! Oh no, she's barely hanging on - her legs are flailing everywhere; she has no idea what's happening or how to get up - or off without dying...and she's wondering where help will come from.
And, then help comes, and she's rescued - somehow - she has no idea how...but she seems to be in a safe place now. Though stationery, she still feels like the world is running out of control; like she could fall at any point; like danger is near.
Will Jessica ever get back in the saddle again?
I don't know. Time will tell, I guess.
The first half of the year, I chose the hard thing that I would conquer. I was in control. The second half, the hard thing chose me. ...and it didn't even choose me, it chose Dan. It chose what I love most - who I love most...and even though things are looking good, and Dan is feeling better than he has - I am still scared.
In the Gospel reading today, Jesus praised the widow who gave her two mites because she gave all that she had. Out of her poverty, she gave - and the rest of us give out of our abundance. Imagine the courage that it took for her to give "all that she had". She had to depend upon God to supply her needs because she just gave him her all. Imagine the trust to open her hand and let go of these two coins that meant life. Imagine the love that she must have for him, believing that she matters to him, that he will not let her fall.
That has been the question before me the last six months. Will I let go of my deathgrip (how appropo) on my life, on my marriage, on myself - and let God in? Will I trust him to bring new life into a hopeless situation? Will I let his will be done in my life? ...will I walk by faith and not by sight?
Baby steps. Sometimes, I run. Sometimes, there is so much light and hope in my life, that I just open up my arms and twirl around and can't wait for an eternity of Jesus' presence. ...and sometimes, I am weak. Sometimes, I am afraid that the world will fall around me. Sometimes, I am angry at things I can't even put into words. Sometimes, the chatter wins.
I realized this morning that all I want to do is go back. I want to go back to the first half of this year. I want to go back to that Jessica - strong, powerful, focused Jessica. ...and by showing me that, God gently nudged my heart and said, "Further on, further up, further in, Jessica. I want to take you to a new place. Will you be open to new life, Jessica?"
So.
If I learned anything this year, it's that I can do hard things [through Christ who strengthens me, right Mom?]. I can do hard things - like let God bring new life, and let go of the old.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Halloweeen!
This year, we got to celebrate our first Halloween as aunt and uncle. As in, the cool aunt and uncle who do fun things - like host a "spooky" lunch for our niece and nephews. The planners that Dan & I are, we came up with the idea yesterday morning - and it turned out awesome and relatively healthy (other than those "cancer-causing" hotdogs we ate). Gotta be something scary to Halloween! ;)
Courtesy of our official event photographer (niece Brenna), Dan shows off most of th\e goods: starting with the platter at Dan's right hand (your left), mummy hotdogs, then jack-o-latern peppers stuffed with veggies, behind the veggies, Rice Krispie treat pumpkins, in the foreground - jello eyes, and we also made clementine jack-o-lanterns.
Mummy hotdogs: Koegel viennas wrapped with crescent roll strips and witches hats. Slice the strips with a pizza cutter. When I would get down to a tiny triangle, I just folded the edge up to make the hat. Bake at 375 for 10-12 minutes. Delicious!
Pretty simple here: cut the top off the pepper, clean out the 'ribs', cut a face into the pepper - stuff with veggies of choice. Cauliflowers = brains, btw.
Jello eyes: follow the 'jello mold' directions on the box. I used a mini muffin tin to make these. The blog where I got the idea used plastic Easter eggs (our plastic eggs all had tiny holes in the bottom = Plan B, stat!). Pour the jello into the tin, add a raisin, chill. You should probably make these more than two hours in advance...but, I put these in the freezer, then fridge for one (and fridge then freezer for the other due to freezer space). Big hit!
If you can, zoom in on these: the piece d' resistance - FINGERS! These came fro the 6-fingered man. Again, Koegel viennas. Cut a 'nail' into one end, then slice areas for the finger joints. To get these to plump well (and not split open), we boiled these. The beauty of the Koegel vienna is that the curve when you cook 'em - giving a much more life like look to these babies. Then, when you add some ketchup...seriously looks like cut up, mutilated fingers.
We don't have a close up of the pumpkin Rice Krispies, but it's easy! Make up Rice Krispies as normal; the recipe I had called for vanilla to be added after melting the butter & mallows - so I also added in a 1/2 tsp of liquid pumpkin spice flavoring. Mmm-fall krispies! At this point, I also added in red and yellow food coloring till reaching the desired color. Then, I sprayed Pam on a big cookie scoop - and used two scoops/pumpkin. Shape into a ball. I added a brown peanut M&M for the stem. The idea I saw used tootsie rolls. Guess what you can find on Friday night at Kroger? A bag full of Tootsie "midges"...I don't think they sell that size retail, anymore.
To top off the "cool aunt & uncle" vibe, put on the kids' costumes:
I am actually wearing Brenna's skirt. I'm all ready for Mardi Gras with that puppy!
...and also have at your disposal, a Halloween kitty:
...who will play with the blue feather from the peacock costume - and also play "catch" with the football player.
Courtesy of our official event photographer (niece Brenna), Dan shows off most of th\e goods: starting with the platter at Dan's right hand (your left), mummy hotdogs, then jack-o-latern peppers stuffed with veggies, behind the veggies, Rice Krispie treat pumpkins, in the foreground - jello eyes, and we also made clementine jack-o-lanterns.
Mummy hotdogs: Koegel viennas wrapped with crescent roll strips and witches hats. Slice the strips with a pizza cutter. When I would get down to a tiny triangle, I just folded the edge up to make the hat. Bake at 375 for 10-12 minutes. Delicious!
Jello eyes: follow the 'jello mold' directions on the box. I used a mini muffin tin to make these. The blog where I got the idea used plastic Easter eggs (our plastic eggs all had tiny holes in the bottom = Plan B, stat!). Pour the jello into the tin, add a raisin, chill. You should probably make these more than two hours in advance...but, I put these in the freezer, then fridge for one (and fridge then freezer for the other due to freezer space). Big hit!
If you can, zoom in on these: the piece d' resistance - FINGERS! These came fro the 6-fingered man. Again, Koegel viennas. Cut a 'nail' into one end, then slice areas for the finger joints. To get these to plump well (and not split open), we boiled these. The beauty of the Koegel vienna is that the curve when you cook 'em - giving a much more life like look to these babies. Then, when you add some ketchup...seriously looks like cut up, mutilated fingers.
We don't have a close up of the pumpkin Rice Krispies, but it's easy! Make up Rice Krispies as normal; the recipe I had called for vanilla to be added after melting the butter & mallows - so I also added in a 1/2 tsp of liquid pumpkin spice flavoring. Mmm-fall krispies! At this point, I also added in red and yellow food coloring till reaching the desired color. Then, I sprayed Pam on a big cookie scoop - and used two scoops/pumpkin. Shape into a ball. I added a brown peanut M&M for the stem. The idea I saw used tootsie rolls. Guess what you can find on Friday night at Kroger? A bag full of Tootsie "midges"...I don't think they sell that size retail, anymore.
To top off the "cool aunt & uncle" vibe, put on the kids' costumes:
I am actually wearing Brenna's skirt. I'm all ready for Mardi Gras with that puppy!
...and also have at your disposal, a Halloween kitty:
...who will play with the blue feather from the peacock costume - and also play "catch" with the football player.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
THREE. MONTHS.
While driving home from our chemo appointment today, I realized something. It's been three months (to the day) that Dan received the diagnosis of lymphoma. Three months. 90 days. It seems like a lifetime ago.
Where we are now I could not have fathomed three months ago. We are settled in our own apartment in the most adorable little town. We both have jobs...at the same university, in the same department, with offices in the same suite. Our beautiful little kitten is a giant 6-month old with a crazy ornery personality. We have been showered in love and prayers that have supported us through some dark days.
We are 2/3 of our way through chemo. Our doctor has been very pleased with Dan's progress and decided not to do a PET scan at this point to see if the chemo's working because she knows it is (based on the fact that Dan's spleen is no longer crazy swollen). He started a chemo spinal tap today, which he will get (one) for the last 3 rounds. He was a little nervous about it - because you have no idea what it will feel like. I think he was surprised it was so 'easy'. The doctor was great; explaining the process while she did. The nurse gave Dan a shoulder rub, so he was a pretty happy camper.
So. Three months. What are some things I've learned? I am continually amazed at how I've responded. Many of you have commented to me how impressed you are by my faith through this trial. Here's how my faith has been shaped in the last 3 months:
1) It's not circumstances that make you blessed. This was a hard lesson for me to learn; I really want people to look at my life and think, "Wow. She's blessed; God must really love her. I want God to love me like that."
Oh, such blasphemy in this crazy thought! (I've never spent much time analyzing this. Ugh. Such pride!) i)God doesn't love me more than he loves anyone else. We are loved with an infinite, never-ending love. ii) Our circumstances do not indicate our blessing. Think of the person we refer to as "Blessed" in her title. Mary had a very difficult life. She had to endure public shame, humiliation, the death of her husband and her son's execution, the trial of her innocent son as a criminal, and then (most likely) the threat of persecution/death because of her beliefs. [which brings me to...]
2) I love the rosary. In those early days when I had no idea what to pray or how to seek God, praying the rosary brought me right to Scripture - to the life and miracle of Jesus...to a deeper adoration, worship, and love for Jesus. I love the rosary. Each day, I get to meditate on the life of my Lord. I have learned to surrender my will to the loving will of my Father...to walk by faith.
3) I am blown away by just...the goodness of God - including the provision of such beautiful, faithful people (friends and family) - and the provision of my job. Michigan State is such a beautiful campus (and, honestly, even more beautiful than Iowa State *gasp*). I am excited for the opportunities to do some new things with my job to serve the ANS students. ...and, I am really surprised(?) that I got hired. Not because I'm not the best candidate candidate - but because I interviewed less than 2 weeks after Dan's diagnosis and I was a mess. I could barely think straight; I was exhausted mentally and physically; I couldn't hold a conversation - I could answer questions, but couldn't think of anything to ask back...and the only person who ever asked me interview questions was the department chair. I knew I really wanted that job after I interviewed, but based on my evaluation of myself - wasn't sure if I did a good job or not. All I can say in response (or explanation) is: by the grace of God go I.
4) You just have no idea what it's [going to be] like. This encompasses a lot of things. You can't imagine what it's like to live through an experience like this - and you shouldn't. When it comes, you just...live it. Cancer is just part of our life right now; now, we don't even really think about it, to be honest. I guess it's like becoming a parent - or adding another child to your family. You can't imagine what it's going to be like - and then, they're here, and you jsut do it.. It's nothing like you imagined - and probably (hopefully) better.
Yes, the beginning was scary because it was unknown. I cried a lot in the first 3 weeks. I don't cry as much now (very little). I learned very early on (i.e. the first day on the road) to be present in the moment - and when those scary "what if" thoughts come to just breathe deep and focus on the view in front of me.
5) I am so in love with Dan. This isn't a surprise, but I show my love (respect) for Dan much better than I did before. ...and I love bald Dan. That was one of those #4 things; one of the things that makes you cry/mourn over before it happens. ...and then it happens. ...and you (he) shave your (his) head, and you (me) stifle a few tears - and you (we) move on. Plus, the bald head is better than looking like a mangy cat. :) I'm so used to seeing and loving bald Dan, I can't really remember Dan with hair. So, to reiterate, I love Dan...the person - in sickness or health, for better or worse, for richer or poorer...circumstances be damned.
6) I love Jesus. How do you get through the toughest life circumstances? My Grandma Ellen often says, "I don't know how people make it without faith." Here's what I have to say about faith: it is not simply a notion, a hope, a wish for something better. That is not what brought me comfort in the darkness when I was so scared that I could lose Dan. Faith must have an object for it to be substantive. And the object of the Christian's faith is Jesus. Hebrews 12 says that he is not just the object of our faith, but the author and perfecter of our faith. He is writing the story of our lives and is perfecting us through our trials - revealing weaknesses and sins to be transformed through His power and grace of His love.
This has not been easy...and, yet, through the transforming grace of Jesus' presence, it has been so good for us. This has transformed us into more of the people that we were made to be.
Where we are now I could not have fathomed three months ago. We are settled in our own apartment in the most adorable little town. We both have jobs...at the same university, in the same department, with offices in the same suite. Our beautiful little kitten is a giant 6-month old with a crazy ornery personality. We have been showered in love and prayers that have supported us through some dark days.
We are 2/3 of our way through chemo. Our doctor has been very pleased with Dan's progress and decided not to do a PET scan at this point to see if the chemo's working because she knows it is (based on the fact that Dan's spleen is no longer crazy swollen). He started a chemo spinal tap today, which he will get (one) for the last 3 rounds. He was a little nervous about it - because you have no idea what it will feel like. I think he was surprised it was so 'easy'. The doctor was great; explaining the process while she did. The nurse gave Dan a shoulder rub, so he was a pretty happy camper.
So. Three months. What are some things I've learned? I am continually amazed at how I've responded. Many of you have commented to me how impressed you are by my faith through this trial. Here's how my faith has been shaped in the last 3 months:
1) It's not circumstances that make you blessed. This was a hard lesson for me to learn; I really want people to look at my life and think, "Wow. She's blessed; God must really love her. I want God to love me like that."
Oh, such blasphemy in this crazy thought! (I've never spent much time analyzing this. Ugh. Such pride!) i)God doesn't love me more than he loves anyone else. We are loved with an infinite, never-ending love. ii) Our circumstances do not indicate our blessing. Think of the person we refer to as "Blessed" in her title. Mary had a very difficult life. She had to endure public shame, humiliation, the death of her husband and her son's execution, the trial of her innocent son as a criminal, and then (most likely) the threat of persecution/death because of her beliefs. [which brings me to...]
2) I love the rosary. In those early days when I had no idea what to pray or how to seek God, praying the rosary brought me right to Scripture - to the life and miracle of Jesus...to a deeper adoration, worship, and love for Jesus. I love the rosary. Each day, I get to meditate on the life of my Lord. I have learned to surrender my will to the loving will of my Father...to walk by faith.
3) I am blown away by just...the goodness of God - including the provision of such beautiful, faithful people (friends and family) - and the provision of my job. Michigan State is such a beautiful campus (and, honestly, even more beautiful than Iowa State *gasp*). I am excited for the opportunities to do some new things with my job to serve the ANS students. ...and, I am really surprised(?) that I got hired. Not because I'm not the best candidate candidate - but because I interviewed less than 2 weeks after Dan's diagnosis and I was a mess. I could barely think straight; I was exhausted mentally and physically; I couldn't hold a conversation - I could answer questions, but couldn't think of anything to ask back...and the only person who ever asked me interview questions was the department chair. I knew I really wanted that job after I interviewed, but based on my evaluation of myself - wasn't sure if I did a good job or not. All I can say in response (or explanation) is: by the grace of God go I.
4) You just have no idea what it's [going to be] like. This encompasses a lot of things. You can't imagine what it's like to live through an experience like this - and you shouldn't. When it comes, you just...live it. Cancer is just part of our life right now; now, we don't even really think about it, to be honest. I guess it's like becoming a parent - or adding another child to your family. You can't imagine what it's going to be like - and then, they're here, and you jsut do it.. It's nothing like you imagined - and probably (hopefully) better.
Yes, the beginning was scary because it was unknown. I cried a lot in the first 3 weeks. I don't cry as much now (very little). I learned very early on (i.e. the first day on the road) to be present in the moment - and when those scary "what if" thoughts come to just breathe deep and focus on the view in front of me.
5) I am so in love with Dan. This isn't a surprise, but I show my love (respect) for Dan much better than I did before. ...and I love bald Dan. That was one of those #4 things; one of the things that makes you cry/mourn over before it happens. ...and then it happens. ...and you (he) shave your (his) head, and you (me) stifle a few tears - and you (we) move on. Plus, the bald head is better than looking like a mangy cat. :) I'm so used to seeing and loving bald Dan, I can't really remember Dan with hair. So, to reiterate, I love Dan...the person - in sickness or health, for better or worse, for richer or poorer...circumstances be damned.
6) I love Jesus. How do you get through the toughest life circumstances? My Grandma Ellen often says, "I don't know how people make it without faith." Here's what I have to say about faith: it is not simply a notion, a hope, a wish for something better. That is not what brought me comfort in the darkness when I was so scared that I could lose Dan. Faith must have an object for it to be substantive. And the object of the Christian's faith is Jesus. Hebrews 12 says that he is not just the object of our faith, but the author and perfecter of our faith. He is writing the story of our lives and is perfecting us through our trials - revealing weaknesses and sins to be transformed through His power and grace of His love.
This has not been easy...and, yet, through the transforming grace of Jesus' presence, it has been so good for us. This has transformed us into more of the people that we were made to be.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
On second thought
There are lots of posts floating around the internet about what you shouldn't do for people going through stuff. And, I don't like those posts because I think it basically says, "Unless you can say/do things in THIS RIGHT WAY, just shut up." ...which is you know, kind of true. Sometimes, the best response is not words - just your presence (see the end).
But, I really like the end of this post "Stupid Phrases for People Who are Suffering". (If you want to know what you shouldn't say, you can read the rest of the post.) http://communicatingacrossboundariesblog.com/2015/09/28/stupid-phrases-for-people-in-crisis/
So what do we do? How do we respond?I think those are difficult questions, but the best analogy I have for people in acute crisis is looking at them as burn victims. Caring for burn victims is divided into three stages that overlap.
The first is the emergent or resuscitative stage. At this stage priority is given to removing the person from the source of the burn and stopping the burning process. The big things to think about are fluid replacement, nutrition, and pain management. Translated into crisis care, this means we’ll bring meals, coffee money, and pick up children from day care.
The second stage is the acute or wound healing stage. At this stage, the body is trying to reach a state of balance, while remaining free from infection. During this stage, patients can become withdrawn, combative, or agitated. This stage can be a lengthy and unpredictable stage. Burn victims, like people in crisis, often lash out at those closest to them. Translate this into listening, listening, and listening some more.
The final stage is the rehabilitative or restorative stage. The goal at this stage is for a patient to resume a functional role within their family and community. Reconstruction surgery may be needed. Encouragement and reassurance are critical to the person at this stage. This would translate into going on walks with the person, taking them out to a movie or dinner, having them over for coffee or a meal.
Burn care has a lot to teach us about loving and caring for people in crisis. And those who care for burn victims rarely use clichés — they are too busy caring.
In February, I wrote a piece called Toward a Fellowship of Suffering, and I’ll end what could be a cynical post, with words from that piece.
“There is something about suffering that longs for someone to sit with us through the pain. It’s the fellowship of suffering. It’s the words ‘you are not alone’ put into action. The sitting bears witness to our pain. More than a card or a casserole, the familiar, patient presence of another says to us ‘it’s too much for you to bear, but I will be with you, I will sit with you.'”
Now, to the title of this post, "on second thought" refers to my "feeling all the feels" post. I think that I am finally ready to move from 'Stage 2'. I want to move to stage 3...but, I can't do it alone. I need some friends. I want to work out. I want to serve others. I just don't know how. I need some help.
...and help looks like you asking me to do something. Please don't wait for me to call you...because I probably won't. I will sit in my house (or office) feeling sad.
Feeling all the feels
The first rule of Marriage Encounter: you don't talk about Marriage Encounter.
[oh wait; that's Fight Club...which is the exact opposite of Marriage Encounter.]
The first rule of Marriage Encounter is this: feelings are neutral. They are neither good nor bad.
Feelings are neither good nor bad.
Let that sink in, Feeler. We don't "feel" like that's true. It "feels" like our culture values thoughts and diminishes emotions. If we feel, then don't we need a "good reason" for feeling an emotion?
That's what I've believed most of my life. If I'm an emotional wreck, I've got find the justification for being emotional. It is NOT OKAY to cry the entire day. It is not okay to feel like the darkness is closing in. It is not okay to feel like there may not be any hope left; that all the goodness has been used up.
I've had those days. More than once in my life. And usually, my mode of operandi is to push those sad feelings way down and far away. ...which does not work, by the way. For some reason those feelings become thoughts and those thoughts get so loud that you can't ignore them if you wanted.
Anyway, that's where I've been the last two weeks. If you look at two weeks ago, my grandma died, we moved out of our brother's and into our own apartment...and, the survival mode I have been in started settling more into "real life." I've been at my new job for a month now, and I'm getting into an advising schedule. It's becoming a "real job." I don't know about anyone else, but I can overwhelmed with thinking about "the rest of my life." One of the blessings of survival mode has been the requirement to focus only on today; to let tomorrow worry about itself. "Real life" seems to require forethought, planning, etc. So, maybe "real life" is freaking me out.
Whatever the cause, I have been FEELING ALL THE FEELS this week!
It doesn't make sense.
We got good news at the doctor on Tuesday.
Why would I feel sad?
1) Crying doesn't have to mean sadness. Crying is just my body's way of letting go of the feels.
What I feel...is a mixture of things. Relief, gratitude, fear. FEAR. We got good news; what is there to fear? I think it's a little bit of delayed fear, really. We asked our doctor on Tuesday what "stage" Dan's cancer would have been classified as. She said Stage 3 because Dan had lymph nodes effected above/below the abdomen (in the neck and abdomen).
For whatever reason, that label made it seem 'scarier' - even though Dan has been responding AWESOMELY to treatment and the doctor is very confident. Knowing the stage, just...made me so THANKFUL that God orchestrated our lives in such a way to get an answer in 6 weeks at Mayo and get in so quickly at the U of M with a doctor so committed to getting Dan treated.
We don't know how long had the cancer. But, my "what if" mind definitely runs to "what if" we had listened to the Tucson doctors? "What if" I thought, 'oh, we're moving to Michigan this summer; going to Mayo doesn't make any sense' and not filled out the request to be seen? All I can respond is THANK GOD that we didn't! THANK GOD that He kept pressing us. THANK GOD that He gave those doctors the insight that I'd been begging Him to give someone!
I'm very thankful for our doctor. Dan is very comfortable talking with her and trusts her, which is good. He rarely feels that way about doctors. She is going to add a 'spinal tap' chemo treatment for Dan's last 3 rounds. The current treatment does not penetrate the central nervous system (brain/spinal cord) - and the lymphoma can hide out there. A PET scan wouldn't pick up if lymphoma has moved there...it would only be detected in a year or two when a relapse happens. Ain't nobody got time for a relapse!
...which I get. It's just...it sounds painful. I don't want Dan to go through more pain than he has to. ...and yet, just like the initial chemo, I can't take it for him. He has to go through it. I can, though, pray for him, and just be ready for whatever. So, praying friends, even though it seems like we're out of the woods - keep those next 3 rounds in your intentions!
...and I think that's the last part of the feels. It's not over. We're halfway in; halfway through; halfway there. We're in the part of the race where you hit your stride...but you also start to wonder just how much longer there is to go.
So, I'm a feeler. And I've been feeling my feelings today - and that's the only way to relief, I know. I have to recognize, acknowledge my feelings, voice them...write about them, and let God into them. I only know how to 'let go' of my feelings, by letting God into my feelings, thoughts, fears, and hopes. Then, He leads me to truth...and relief...with acceptance.
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:1-3
[oh wait; that's Fight Club...which is the exact opposite of Marriage Encounter.]
The first rule of Marriage Encounter is this: feelings are neutral. They are neither good nor bad.
Feelings are neither good nor bad.
Let that sink in, Feeler. We don't "feel" like that's true. It "feels" like our culture values thoughts and diminishes emotions. If we feel, then don't we need a "good reason" for feeling an emotion?
That's what I've believed most of my life. If I'm an emotional wreck, I've got find the justification for being emotional. It is NOT OKAY to cry the entire day. It is not okay to feel like the darkness is closing in. It is not okay to feel like there may not be any hope left; that all the goodness has been used up.
I've had those days. More than once in my life. And usually, my mode of operandi is to push those sad feelings way down and far away. ...which does not work, by the way. For some reason those feelings become thoughts and those thoughts get so loud that you can't ignore them if you wanted.
Anyway, that's where I've been the last two weeks. If you look at two weeks ago, my grandma died, we moved out of our brother's and into our own apartment...and, the survival mode I have been in started settling more into "real life." I've been at my new job for a month now, and I'm getting into an advising schedule. It's becoming a "real job." I don't know about anyone else, but I can overwhelmed with thinking about "the rest of my life." One of the blessings of survival mode has been the requirement to focus only on today; to let tomorrow worry about itself. "Real life" seems to require forethought, planning, etc. So, maybe "real life" is freaking me out.
Whatever the cause, I have been FEELING ALL THE FEELS this week!
It doesn't make sense.
We got good news at the doctor on Tuesday.
Why would I feel sad?
1) Crying doesn't have to mean sadness. Crying is just my body's way of letting go of the feels.
What I feel...is a mixture of things. Relief, gratitude, fear. FEAR. We got good news; what is there to fear? I think it's a little bit of delayed fear, really. We asked our doctor on Tuesday what "stage" Dan's cancer would have been classified as. She said Stage 3 because Dan had lymph nodes effected above/below the abdomen (in the neck and abdomen).
For whatever reason, that label made it seem 'scarier' - even though Dan has been responding AWESOMELY to treatment and the doctor is very confident. Knowing the stage, just...made me so THANKFUL that God orchestrated our lives in such a way to get an answer in 6 weeks at Mayo and get in so quickly at the U of M with a doctor so committed to getting Dan treated.
We don't know how long had the cancer. But, my "what if" mind definitely runs to "what if" we had listened to the Tucson doctors? "What if" I thought, 'oh, we're moving to Michigan this summer; going to Mayo doesn't make any sense' and not filled out the request to be seen? All I can respond is THANK GOD that we didn't! THANK GOD that He kept pressing us. THANK GOD that He gave those doctors the insight that I'd been begging Him to give someone!
I'm very thankful for our doctor. Dan is very comfortable talking with her and trusts her, which is good. He rarely feels that way about doctors. She is going to add a 'spinal tap' chemo treatment for Dan's last 3 rounds. The current treatment does not penetrate the central nervous system (brain/spinal cord) - and the lymphoma can hide out there. A PET scan wouldn't pick up if lymphoma has moved there...it would only be detected in a year or two when a relapse happens. Ain't nobody got time for a relapse!
...which I get. It's just...it sounds painful. I don't want Dan to go through more pain than he has to. ...and yet, just like the initial chemo, I can't take it for him. He has to go through it. I can, though, pray for him, and just be ready for whatever. So, praying friends, even though it seems like we're out of the woods - keep those next 3 rounds in your intentions!
...and I think that's the last part of the feels. It's not over. We're halfway in; halfway through; halfway there. We're in the part of the race where you hit your stride...but you also start to wonder just how much longer there is to go.
So, I'm a feeler. And I've been feeling my feelings today - and that's the only way to relief, I know. I have to recognize, acknowledge my feelings, voice them...write about them, and let God into them. I only know how to 'let go' of my feelings, by letting God into my feelings, thoughts, fears, and hopes. Then, He leads me to truth...and relief...with acceptance.
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.” Isaiah 43:1-3
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Swallowed up by Life
I can't take it. I can't take it anymore. I think I am officially about to break into a million pieces...and that's probably okay because Gramma always said, "I love you all to pieces!" She left this world this morning - and she did it. She loved me to pieces. Her passing this morning felt like the straw that broke the camel's back - or the last block moved that caused the Jenga tower to crumble.
And you know what? It's okay. It's okay to cry and be so broken that I can't put myself back together again. Because I know Who can - because of my Gramma Faye...and what better tribute to her than to surrender myself one more time to His loving hands. After all, she who endured more suffering and heartbreak and trials than many I've had the privilege to know witnessed His ability to put her back together again (over and over, in big and little ways).
In thinking of her 'loving me all to pieces', I was reminded of the "jars of clay" or "cracked pot" verse. In looking up that verse (2 Corinthians 4:7), I [somehow] jumped to 2 Cor 5 - a beautiful passage on our earthly bodies/life...and I just thought, "How Gramma!" of this moment. How Gramma to point me to Scripture in the moment of my breaking point.
[2 Corinthians 4]
6 For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,”[a] made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.
7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.
13 It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”[b] Since we have that same spirit of[c] faith, we also believe and therefore speak, 14 because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. 15 All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.
16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
For those who didn't know my Gramma, let me just tell you this: the items that I highlighted - those are the things that she would have pressed into me. I can hear her saying:
John refers to Jesus as the Word in John 1; and she loved the Word. She lived her life by the Word - and she taught me to do the same. She believed that God would be true to His Word (because how could He deny himself?) - so she prayed His Word and she clung to His promises - that they could be true in her life, as well. I walk by faith because she walked by faith. I have followed her example in life and she has led me to Life - to Jesus.
A few years ago, Gramma shared with me the "bookend" of life: being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:6) My heart may be in pieces, but I am confident that the same God who worked so much good in her life is working that out and carrying it to completion in the lives of all of us who love God.
I am confident that today, she was wholly swallowed up by life.
I am confident that she no longer walks by faith; today, she sees!
And you know what? It's okay. It's okay to cry and be so broken that I can't put myself back together again. Because I know Who can - because of my Gramma Faye...and what better tribute to her than to surrender myself one more time to His loving hands. After all, she who endured more suffering and heartbreak and trials than many I've had the privilege to know witnessed His ability to put her back together again (over and over, in big and little ways).
In thinking of her 'loving me all to pieces', I was reminded of the "jars of clay" or "cracked pot" verse. In looking up that verse (2 Corinthians 4:7), I [somehow] jumped to 2 Cor 5 - a beautiful passage on our earthly bodies/life...and I just thought, "How Gramma!" of this moment. How Gramma to point me to Scripture in the moment of my breaking point.
[2 Corinthians 4]
6 For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,”[a] made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.
7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.
13 It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”[b] Since we have that same spirit of[c] faith, we also believe and therefore speak, 14 because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. 15 All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.
16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
Awaiting the New Body [2 Corinthians 5]
5 For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2 Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, 3 because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 4 For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.
6 Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7 For we live by faith, not by sight. 8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.
For those who didn't know my Gramma, let me just tell you this: the items that I highlighted - those are the things that she would have pressed into me. I can hear her saying:
"I am swallowed up by Life now, Jessica! Swallowed up by LIFE! I am at home with the Lord - and oh, how I have longed for this day! LONGED for this day, Sweetie! and what will make this day so much sweeter is to know that those I have loved, to know that my family will one day be swallowed up by life just like I have been! That is my deepest prayer."
I know it because she told me. Her deepest wish was for her children and grandchildren - and great-grandchildren (and EVERYBODY) to love Jesus - and to know the love and care of Jesus like she had so personally experienced throughout her life.
Writing a 'eulogy' for her has been so hard for me because, outside of my parents, no person has impacted my life like she had. I am the Christian that I am today because of the lifelong witness of Faye Louise Witt Rohrig. She may have had no imprint on my genetic traits - but on my eternal life, her fingerprints are everywhere.
In college I wrote her a letter and asked her how to live out my faith. As a young Christ-follower, I didn't really know how I was to show others that I believed in God or to influence them to do the same. So, I asked the person who is the greatest 'soldier for Christ' that I'd known. (I have the letter she wrote to me somewhere, but I can't remember the specifics)
What was interesting in her response was that she basically said 'it's not a formula, Jessica.' Living your faith is just an extension of loving Jesus. You love Jesus the same you love a person. You pray (talk to him); you read what He has to say (in the Bible); you talk to people that love him; you serve the people he loved (everybody).
I know it because she told me. Her deepest wish was for her children and grandchildren - and great-grandchildren (and EVERYBODY) to love Jesus - and to know the love and care of Jesus like she had so personally experienced throughout her life.
Writing a 'eulogy' for her has been so hard for me because, outside of my parents, no person has impacted my life like she had. I am the Christian that I am today because of the lifelong witness of Faye Louise Witt Rohrig. She may have had no imprint on my genetic traits - but on my eternal life, her fingerprints are everywhere.
In college I wrote her a letter and asked her how to live out my faith. As a young Christ-follower, I didn't really know how I was to show others that I believed in God or to influence them to do the same. So, I asked the person who is the greatest 'soldier for Christ' that I'd known. (I have the letter she wrote to me somewhere, but I can't remember the specifics)
What was interesting in her response was that she basically said 'it's not a formula, Jessica.' Living your faith is just an extension of loving Jesus. You love Jesus the same you love a person. You pray (talk to him); you read what He has to say (in the Bible); you talk to people that love him; you serve the people he loved (everybody).
John refers to Jesus as the Word in John 1; and she loved the Word. She lived her life by the Word - and she taught me to do the same. She believed that God would be true to His Word (because how could He deny himself?) - so she prayed His Word and she clung to His promises - that they could be true in her life, as well. I walk by faith because she walked by faith. I have followed her example in life and she has led me to Life - to Jesus.
A few years ago, Gramma shared with me the "bookend" of life: being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:6) My heart may be in pieces, but I am confident that the same God who worked so much good in her life is working that out and carrying it to completion in the lives of all of us who love God.
I am confident that today, she was wholly swallowed up by life.
I am confident that she no longer walks by faith; today, she sees!
Monday, September 21, 2015
Let go of worry by being faithful in prayer
Today is my beautiful mom's birthday. I wrote her a little Facebook dedication today:
I am a Wednesday baby. You know what that means, right? "Wednesday's child is full of woe." ...and I live that out well. When I first read about 4 personality types (not Myers-Briggs) - the phlegmatic, sanguine, choleric, melancholic - in high school, I could strongly identify with the melancholic with my "internal self' - but I so badly wanted to be the sanguine, my "outside" self. The best way to describe the melancholic is to just think of Eeyore.
My internal self would worry; not all of the time - but, enough. I couldn't sleep the night before leaving for summer camp because I was worried about all the newness + being away from home; I was sick to my stomach the first 3 days I was in Rome (in high school) because I couldn't get in touch with my parents to let them know I was okay; I didn't get a small section of my hair wrapped in embroidery floss when in Italy like all the other girls because I didn't want to come home and have my mom think I'd changed so much on our 10-day trip to Italy/Greece.
I cried several times before starting 6th grade because it was the start to something I couldn't stop - THE REST OF MY LIFE. When opening a pack of 10 pens, I realized that I could use one pen each year - and that would get me through the entirety of high school AND college! (and I cried) Then, I got going with school - and the scary part wore off.
...then I graduated high school. Once county fair was over, the emotions came again. I cried once a day for 2 weeks about starting college/saying good-bye.
All of this is to demonstrate that transitions/changes have never been my strongest, emotionally. I also write this to share how much my mother has taught me over the years that this is no longer the same struggle for me.
My mom and I are quite alike in some ways - but also very different in others. Namely, she does not worry - and I'm not sure she ever has. As the youngest of 6, she got to be the carefree youngest. The parents are too tired from raising the others to put the pressure of being the 'perfect first', so the youngest get to just skate on through life. Although, the youngest can get the 'smothering' effect and feel so doted on that they need to exert their difference, their independence from all 'help' given by parents/older siblings.
It was always remarkable to me that she didn't worry, especially given that my grandmother is such a worrier. So, one day after graduating, I asked her, "Mom - why didn't you worry about me? Even when you knew that I was partying?" She said, "I just prayed for you, and knew that God would take care of you."
This lesson has guided me through my adult life by approaching new situations or life changes with prayer. Though, I am not perfect...and I often pray after the fact instead of first...but still, I do it. The last two months have been one of the most turbulent circumstantially, but also one of the blessed. Rather than worry first, I pray. ...and I pray often...through those prayers, peace stills my soul even though the waves still rage.
Proverbs 31:25 says "She is clothed with strength and dignity - and she can laugh at the days to come." To me, this is my mother. She can laugh at the days to come because she has covered them in prayer, and she trusts that God is true to His word - that all things can work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purposes. (Romans 8:28 - one of the first verses she taught me)
So, happy birthday, Mom! Many more to come!
Happy Birthday to my mom! She's one of those people who mean so much to me that I can never really find the words to accurately say it all. She is "my person" when I need to emote - cry, vent, celebrate, worry. She tries to solve my problems (even when I don't want her to) because she cares. She wants the best for me and doesn't let me stay in a mindset that is not based on the Truth/reality of faith. She is a resting place; she is my shopping buddy; nothing makes me happier than seeing her smile and hearing her laugh. Thanks for teaching me to love life and to let go of worry by being faithful in prayer.There are a lot of things I could expand upon, but I'm going to focus on what is probably her biggest gift to me: let go of worry by being faithful in prayer.
I am a Wednesday baby. You know what that means, right? "Wednesday's child is full of woe." ...and I live that out well. When I first read about 4 personality types (not Myers-Briggs) - the phlegmatic, sanguine, choleric, melancholic - in high school, I could strongly identify with the melancholic with my "internal self' - but I so badly wanted to be the sanguine, my "outside" self. The best way to describe the melancholic is to just think of Eeyore.
My internal self would worry; not all of the time - but, enough. I couldn't sleep the night before leaving for summer camp because I was worried about all the newness + being away from home; I was sick to my stomach the first 3 days I was in Rome (in high school) because I couldn't get in touch with my parents to let them know I was okay; I didn't get a small section of my hair wrapped in embroidery floss when in Italy like all the other girls because I didn't want to come home and have my mom think I'd changed so much on our 10-day trip to Italy/Greece.
I cried several times before starting 6th grade because it was the start to something I couldn't stop - THE REST OF MY LIFE. When opening a pack of 10 pens, I realized that I could use one pen each year - and that would get me through the entirety of high school AND college! (and I cried) Then, I got going with school - and the scary part wore off.
...then I graduated high school. Once county fair was over, the emotions came again. I cried once a day for 2 weeks about starting college/saying good-bye.
All of this is to demonstrate that transitions/changes have never been my strongest, emotionally. I also write this to share how much my mother has taught me over the years that this is no longer the same struggle for me.
My mom and I are quite alike in some ways - but also very different in others. Namely, she does not worry - and I'm not sure she ever has. As the youngest of 6, she got to be the carefree youngest. The parents are too tired from raising the others to put the pressure of being the 'perfect first', so the youngest get to just skate on through life. Although, the youngest can get the 'smothering' effect and feel so doted on that they need to exert their difference, their independence from all 'help' given by parents/older siblings.
It was always remarkable to me that she didn't worry, especially given that my grandmother is such a worrier. So, one day after graduating, I asked her, "Mom - why didn't you worry about me? Even when you knew that I was partying?" She said, "I just prayed for you, and knew that God would take care of you."
This lesson has guided me through my adult life by approaching new situations or life changes with prayer. Though, I am not perfect...and I often pray after the fact instead of first...but still, I do it. The last two months have been one of the most turbulent circumstantially, but also one of the blessed. Rather than worry first, I pray. ...and I pray often...through those prayers, peace stills my soul even though the waves still rage.
Proverbs 31:25 says "She is clothed with strength and dignity - and she can laugh at the days to come." To me, this is my mother. She can laugh at the days to come because she has covered them in prayer, and she trusts that God is true to His word - that all things can work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purposes. (Romans 8:28 - one of the first verses she taught me)
So, happy birthday, Mom! Many more to come!
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Hold On Loosely
Remember that song from 38 Special? 'Hold on loosely, but don't let go; if you cling too tightly, you're gonna lose control?'
As I've thought about adjusting to life post-diagnosis, this has been the phrase that replays. On the big drive, the verses from James 4 about saying, "You should say, 'If the Lord wills, we will go here & do this' - for what is your life? Do you know what will happen today or tomorrow?'" [my paraphrase]
I don't know about you, but since getting married, I've become quite the planner. I like having a general idea about where we're headed and how we'll make it happen to get there. I have become a strategizer. I have become a bit of a control freak. ...and, honestly, I have become very self-reliant, independent - I haven't needed God to make my life happen. It's like operating on auto-pilot. Deep down, I knew I wasn't living life the way I needed to...while things were fine...life just didn't feel...fulfilled? I don't know; perhaps it was empty, in spite of being so full.
Seven weeks into our new life, I feel very much like a different person. Even in spite of living through this trial, I feel more alive. My relationship with Jesus - and with Dan - is so much deeper, and more full of purpose, love, light, than it has been.
Life after our first chemo treatment was almost normal. The first two weeks were great. The side effects were minimal; Dan was able to carry on his work - and judging practices - just like 'normal'. There was one day with a low fever, but we were able to manage it with Tylenol and it was gone within a day. It was going so well that I made a trip back to Iowa for a few days.
...and then the shoe dropped. Tuesday morning, we got ready for work. Dan came in and said he felt a little nauseous, a little achey, and couldn't stop shaking. He just wanted to sleep, but didn't have a fever. I got home from work that night and it was 103.4. After consulting the oncologist on call at UM, we came to the ER in Lansing.
The nice thing about having cancer is that you don't spend any time waiting with the rest of the sick people and you get in pretty fast. By the time, we checked in, the temp was 100.3, and 3 hours later, it was normal. However, being an 'at risk' patient, they wanted to keep an eye on Dan.
...and now, five days later...it looks as though we will get to check out today. The official diagnosis is sinusitis. The symptoms look a lot like every time Dan gets sick - but, the docs have worked really hard to get this under control - and have done a great job. Our team has been great - and we now have a primary care provider for Dan here in Lansing (and right on campus!).
It's pretty easy to find the silver linings. Dan is getting an idea about his boundaries, but now the challenge for him is figuring out how to make sure his team gets the guidance he wants them to have - without putting himself at too much risk. What he really needs is an assistant coach (for those on our prayer team who want specific things to ask for - ask for this!).
We work in a wonderful, supportive department. We're close to family and friends who have stopped in.
But, I will admit. Day 3 was HARD. HARD. Coming in that morning, I felt so frustrated, abandoned, lonely. It seemed, at that point, like more of the same - like being in Houston, again. So, early in the morning, feeling so sad/dejected, I said to Dan, "let's pray." On Fridays, the mysteries of the Rosary are the Sorrowful - Jesus in the Garden, Jesus being flogged, Jesus crowned with thorns, Jesus carrying the cross, Jesus' death.
Last weekend, my sister-in-law and I were talking about suffering; she had mentioned something about the cross, and I joked, "yeah; just offer it up?" And she said, "No, sometimes, the point is to just sit with him in the sorrow."
On Friday, as we poured out our frustrations, our requests, and the things were thankful for before beginning, my mother-in-law called. As Dan talked to her, I just sat there, and entered into each mystery. Imagining myself there with Jesus, I sat with him in the Garden as he struggled with his sorrow, hugged his cross...and just remained. When we did finish praying the rosary, His peace had entered into my emptiness. [and the meeting with the doctors that day was far more promising!]
About prayer, C.S. Lewis said something to the point that it doesn't change God, it changes us. It very much does that. We are transformed by the presence of Christ - and when we are transformed, it can transform every part of our lives. Your prayer may not change God's will - but, your will can be changed to be more in line with His - and isn't that better?
To attempt to bring this post to a close, here's my point: it's only through prayer that I am able to 'hold on loosely.' Our plans this week got totally up-ended. This was 'supposed to be' Chemo Round 2 week. Here's what I am quickly learning: let go of the 'supposed to'. Hold on loosely to the schedule.
And also: wash your hands.
And another thing: when you see people wearing a mask - it's because YOU are the walking germ-bomb not them. We all give those people a wide berth and usually think we don't want what they've got; it's the other way around - they don't want what you've got. So, if you see Dan wearing a mask in the next few months, it's for his protection - so he can carry on with business.
[also, he shaved his head, and is looking quite handsome, if I do say so myself]
[the other plus side - I've figured out how to get to the hospital; 'discovered' a lovely little restaurant close to the hospital (okay, my bro & sis-in-law highly recommended it first), AND a local chocolatier right next to it - with killer sugar-free dark chocolate peanut butter cups and milk chocolate peanut clusters (for Dan)]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)