The Comfort of Knowing

Last Saturday they were driving together, wrapped up tight in the enormous white SUV with shiny chrome wheels and black and white tiger striped seat covers, just happy to be together and enjoying the mountain drive. With head snuggled comfortably into her pillow against the window, she asks her mother what she thinks about the possible meaning of words in Atmosphere's latest rap streaming into her hears on headphones, while mom isn't thinking about much at all except noticing the curve that the top of the hills make against the skyline left in a blur behind them.  It's peaceful in the car, it's so good to be with someone you love, its a beautiful day.

How much fear can you feel in a second, or part of one?  Order turns to chaos, ears assaulted by hellish vibrations, mother screams herself awake and the windshield splinters into an electrical storm right in front of their faces.  The world outside begins to spin, tires against asphalt make a piercing crescendo, daughter wails from deep in her gut, can't breathe, can't see.  Peaceful quiet becomes the quiet of death. Shock keeps them numb, the mind trying to catch up to the change in reality, pinned where they are and unable to move except to blink their eyes and listen to the sounds of air escaping from pressure.

When I saw the two blond women they had already been rescued from their car and were sitting in the back of a huge, red fire and rescue truck on the shoulder of the road with yellow coated rescue workers hovering nearby.  Shock, fear, and confusion showed on their faces and in their bodies. Thirty yards down a gold colored minivan, unharmed and parked parallel to the road caused our eyebrows to curl...were they just rescued from an adventure gone wrong down below, or did one of the cars in an accident come through unscathed? No one in our car was mentally prepared for the large brown bear who became the next installment of the disaster, sprawled I think where he landed from a cruise through the air, body straddling the guard rail, paws flung wide and big furry head bowed to the ground. The shattered SUV came next, and then it was over.  "Oh the poor bear" we all said in one way or another, but our own shock brought quiet to our car too while we tried to sort out the 5 second tragedy we had just seen unfold on the roadside.

Hitting a bear must have been more of a shock for those poor women than seeing it dead on the side of the road was for us, but either one is a completely unexpected head shaker none the less.  Hitting something is rarely or ever premeditated, it just happens when your mind is thinking the regular things it always does. A doctor telling you over the phone to sit down before he gives you her news is one of those hits.  If you haven't had one yet you are probably young, but I can guarantee that your own will indeed come just as surely as death and taxes will. But the answer is not to sit frozen in fear because that stops no train.

The bible, as always, has something to say about how to get ready for this uncertainty. It meets the uncertain future with the unchangeable, all powerful, all knowing, and all loving Creator of all we CAN see and are certain of. "Remember your Creator in the days of your youth..." because what follows is the gradual breakdown of the body into old age when hands tremble, appetite wanes and and eyes and ears are turned to the lowest setting. "Remember your Creator before the silver cord is loosed, or the golden bowl is broken, or the pitcher shattered at the fountain...". In other words, before it all happens, before the unknown hits your windshield on a sunny day, before the heartache comes, know your Maker.

If you wait until you are in a state of shock, that getting to know Him part will most likely be put on hold until sometime when you can think straight again, and then how will you know where to find His strong hand to hold on to in the moment of your crisis? Sounds childlike maybe, but tragedy strips away our adult-like sophistication and leaves us with more child-like humility.  I can say from experience, and not only this last go around, that He is a strong tower and a strong comfort in the greatest time of need. I can't imagine facing things in the past, or the things I know are still unknown to me and yet to come, without His strength, His promises, or His wisdom.

I've been trying to get to know Him since I understood His love for me when I was thirteen. Its almost the easiest thing in the world to do, yet you may also find it extremely difficult at the same time. We have the tangible world to speak of Him as it reflects His nature in its glory, but even easier to understand is His word, the bible. It's really that simple. I meditate on his word to know Him, and here is one ultra simple way to do it.

1) Choose a book of the bible to read. Decide how much time you have to get to know your Creator each day and spend half of that time reading from the book you chose. A book marker is a must!
2) For the second half of your time each day, pick one verse that caught your attention or curiosity and copy it down on paper (or laptop).  Then go through the verse phrase by phrase and rewrite it in your own words, trying not to use any of the same words you copied from the bible.
3) Sit back in your past few minutes and think about what you just wrote down.  Answer one of these two questions, "What did I learn about my Creator's personality?" or "What example or direction does this give me to follow?"  Then talk to Him about that very thing and how it can become a part of your life that day, in addition to anything and everything else you want to talk to Him about.

Before the brown bear hits or the golden bowl breaks, know your Creator!  When you are hurting or in shock you only want to be comforted by those you already know really well. He really does love us, and we need Him very much for the unexpected things in life that come along.

I have my last infusion a week from this Wednesday. This past one was a bit harder than the others so I'm getting mentally ready for the same or more. But following that my hair can start to keep records of my life again and that is something I am looking forward to; new hair, new understanding, a changed heart, a new beginning. I'll have a few weeks  afterwards to recover and then start on six weeks of radiation therapy...and then its over. In case you are wondering about the picture, they are piles of some things that were sent to help me along the way, like strong shoes on a rocky road. Thank you so much again for helping me through this with all of your love and prayers...I will never forget.

Where's the Love? Part 2

The sky is blue, the roses red and birds are singing, I feel like myself again today. What I mean is I don't feel TIRED.  Its actually rather gray outside this morning but I know the blue is coming. I'm curled up looking out the window starting the day with my bible, two chubby chickens looking for the dog's bowl on the far end of the porch just walked by the window accompanied by strains of my neighbor practicing some very good piano playing. I've been finishing what I started last post in my mind the past few days,  so now I'm going to take the time to write it down, which helps me think.

It started a really long time ago, sometime in the early part of this year, I was standing at the kitchen scrubbing away when a name came to my mind. Sometimes the sound of a name seems to entertain my ears and it repeats over and over in my head as though my mind was tossing it against the wall and back in play. I just sit back and listen, I find it rather interesting that my mind enjoys certain sounds  so much. This time though there was a difference, I felt like I should really listen to the name instead of just the sound, so I googled it. Yes, the almighty google revealed to me that this name was a person I must have heard talked about at some time in my life, probably when Ben worked in a little church as its youth pastor way back at the beginning in the early 90s.  Winkie Pratney Winkie Pratney Winkie Pratney...he wrote quite a few books, but the site said his best seller was a book called "The Nature and Character of God."  One punch of a keyboard key with wet fingers and there it was at my door in a brown book box, and I have been devouring it ever since.

I can't vouch for his theology on every single point, I don't feel the need to in case you decide to look for yourself, but what I have found here is an anthology of writings of the church fathers from antiquity to the present day contemplating the nature and character of God. How interesting, since His nature and character were something I had been questioning myself, impertinent sinner that I am. I was, am being, challenged to reconsider, the most august of all Kings inviting one of the lowliest of scullery maids to consider His glory. It shames me even as I write that.

I now force myself to stay focused because I want to reprint chunks of the current chapter I am reading called God is Loving. This follows the chapters God is Uncreated, Infinite, Spiritual,Glorious, and Creator.  Do you think He is trying to set me straight somehow? First the teacher and then the time! Maybe it had to be because I have been gifted in the area of stubbornness, but I wonder if you have noticed as I have that one's gift used wrongly can become one's downfall. I'm afraid I don't flex like a good piece of clay must, which is okay if I'm in a completed shape, but deadly to the Potter's dreams of making something beautiful if I am far from done.  Hopefully I am not the only one out there with this fault because there goes that measuring stick again.

So the point for today is really just a comparison between two words, phileo and agapao, both of which mean love in ancient Greek. There are many different English words which describe the many facets of love too...affection, compassion, benevolence, infatuation, etc.  It makes a difference don't you think?

Phileo love is commonly understood as a love between siblings, a shared affection between friends, the kindness of one human being to another,  "a love of liking, and affection for someone or something that is the outgoing of one's heart in delight to that which affords pleasure." This is the word Peter used to answer Jesus when He asked if Peter loved Him in John 21:15-19.

The problem in the exchange was that Jesus asked Peter if he "agapao"ed Him, not "pileo"ed Him.  He pressed the point, He wanted Peter to understand his own heart because I'm sure the Lord wasn't asking something He didn't already know.  Agapao love is translated "to show love; it is a giving, active love on the other's behalf", or "It is a love called out of a person's heart by an 'awakened sense of value in an object which causes one to prize it'. It's impulse comes from prizing."

The main difference I see here is what draws the love from the heart,  the delight or pleasure that the object of love brings to you, or the placing of intrinsic value on that object of love because of what it IS, not necessarily for how it makes you feel about it. Books have been written, I can only try to take from this what I can that helps me see my own heart in a truer light today. What is my own love for God based on? What drew it out of my heart in the first place?  What sustains it today?  In the beginning God created for me a way to eternal life and I loved Him for that.  Along the way He has been faithful to me, shown me care in practical needs and desires met, and I have loved Him for that. He has saved me from great suffering, even death, times when I knew it and I'm sure many times I have been unaware, and I have loved Him for that.

What category would I place this kind of love into, phileo or agapao? Nothing is so black and white you say, and I agree, but for the most part, which one? He has delighted me, He has given me a great deal of pleasure by His care and blessings along the way. But I see here in the exchange with Peter that He would like to have the other like He gives, a love that values the intrinsic qualities of the object loved so much that the absence of tangible pleasure associated with it does not change the sacrifices one will make, it's just that valuable.  So do I love God when He does not answer my prayers? Do I love Him when He allows suffering, disappointment, loneliness? Do I love Him when I simply cannot understand what He is doing, or not doing for me? In other words, does the absence of pleasure or delight change how I feel about my Creator?

In reflection I am seeing that one love is more fully developed than the other. Shall we say mature, or more precious like a good wine that has improved with age? Having been married for almost a quarter of a century I can see how married love gives insight into the difference and the progression from one kind to the other. At first love there is the excitement of becoming one, of being lost in someone else's universe, of being adored and the focused object of someone's attention.  But time adds distractions, responsibilities, sickness, children, mortages, etc. Hopefully at this time love has matured to a deeper appreciation not for what you receive from your spouse only, but also for who they have shown themselves to be in action, in faithfulness, in perseverance and in character. You've had a front row seat for a long time, and can you now love them as much for who they are as much as for how much pleasure you receive from their company?  When applied to my love for God then, how would I answer Jesus if He asked me if I love HIm? Would I be able to answer back that I agapao Him, or would my honest answer have to be "I phileo You Lord"?

If I lost you a long time ago don't worry, I'm thinking out loud. If this speaks to your heart as it does mine, then I hope you will have a small window of time to sit alone and look at the sky and think about your own love for God... phileo or agapao?

Where's the Love?

( Couldn't find a picture this time that could say the right words. Let me know if you find one!)

A book came in the mail yesterday, and without it I don't know what I would have done with myself this weekend. Good thing I love books written by thoughtful, interesting people, and I can get lost in one completely.  This was my yuck time but I'm not complaining, no way. In a round of chemo I seem to have only about 2 days like this and the rest are either coming clean of it or just fine. I have what I must call cancer lite, though I don't minimize in any way the impact that even a little bit of cancer can have on a body!

My brain is feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges.  I'm not sure if its just me or the experience, but I'm anxious for it all to go away like you do waking up with a sore neck. Maybe that's why I haven't written anything for a longer stretch here...the thoughts and feelings hit a foggy bath beneath the surface and just float lazily along.  My taste buds, hearing, and sight have also taken something of a temporary hit which contributes I'm sure to the feeling that I am in my own zone in a strange, hard to explain way. In the journey of life some things are just uphill more than others and this is just one of those more solo climbs I guess.

Unless, of course, you are my amazing friend Kirsten.  The temptation to snap myself with a measuring stick is here even in sickness; she is off on a retreat with her youth group following round EIGHT of chemo, I am having my husband and kids bring me Naproxin with a glass of water here at the third hole.  Must there always be someone who seems to be doing it better?  You have to know my sense of humor to take that the way I meant it, but in all honesty, there is a lot of self evaluation going on. I can't help it, I have too much time laying horizontal looking up. Wouldn't you know it, that while some of my life perceptions are fading softly in a temporary reprieve,  a sharpened, two-edged sword of self evaluation has shoved its way all the way up to the front,  parting the way for a rarely seen view to the bottom of my soul.

I hesitate to continue lest I create a reputation for myself as the one who is always in angst about something. But right now I am and I wouldn't change the course for anything because like I said before, the minute I heard about the trial I would face I felt the strongest impression ever that God was in it. That is difficult for some to accept, but why shouldn't I suffer when there are those whose feet I am unworthy to wash who have endured an oceanful of suffering more than I ever will?  Plus, there is always that small chance that I am not the only one who feels the way I do, and maybe honesty will provide enough inspiration to keep another traveler's feet moving in the same direction.

We're absorbing the book of Hebrews in church these days. Today, ..." though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered." Vehement cries and tears the writer of Hebrews tells us; My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?  If I ever wondered if God loved me, which I have, no need to look any farther than the agony He caused His own son to embrace soundly for me, for us. The question I asked last time, "Does He love me?" is settled, its in print, it isn't ever going to be undone, ever, and the answer can be seen here in the agony of Son Jesus' soul.  In truth, the only question that has any real, possible wiggle room is not "does He love me",  but do I love Him in the way that He deserves?

I LOVE to be entertained, I LOVE bread with butter and apples, I LOVE having my husband's attention, but do I LOVE my Creator, really?  There are some people who seem to exude love for God, and probably they are more generous with that gift even to His other offspring. They make me a little envious, no, not just a little. Love doesn't come that easy to me for whatever reason. That's why I think God in His never ending mercy paired me up with a very generous man who meets me more than half way to compensate for my lack of skill. Like the cushiony swivel chair I am sitting in right now. A few years ago he carried it down to my office from his own desk and has sat in a folding chair in front of his computer ever since. He has never mentioned it again, I don't think it registers in his mind at all, but I think about it every time I sit here or see him perched on the edge of his. I should think more about how he is only made in the image!

Why can't I just take the full jump?  I'm prone to contemplate God, study God, write about God, analyze God, much more than I simply love God.  Ok I'll be honest, I also hold grudges a lot longer than those loving types.  I remember disappointments,  I expect more,  I'm more afraid. Yet somehow, I don't know why, it seems that I have not been disqualified from still trying. I'm taking longer to get where I wish I was, but at least they haven't started closing down the race while I'm still running, so I won't give up.

 "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, this is the first and greatest commandment."

Maybe I need to forgive God. Doesn't that sound awful, as though He could be at fault, but I've wrongly thought He was. My incredibly self centered perception of how things have played themselves out may be the biggest dam of all. I'm pretty sure that showing honor, trusting the track record and proven character, believing the truth, these are all great things, but the one thing that really matters is the love. I'm certain He wants that from me more than all my correct thinking, though in times of such raw introspection I wish there was someone on this earth truly deserving of His incomprehensible patience and affection.

So that's what's percolating in my heart right now, with chemo for water and radiation for cream. I watch Jesus experience obedience in suffering, it gives me confidence that He is gong to put His hands together and hold my feet while I hitch up over roadblocks, that He will help me with the real thing starting with the first commandment.  Maybe Someone took their arm and swept some things off the table so that all that really mattered would get my attention. Do you see it?

"O Send Your light and Your truth!
Let them lead me;
Let them bring me to Your holy hill
And to Your tabernacle.
Then I will go to the altar of God,
To God my exceeding joy;
And on the harp I will praise You,
O God, my God. "    

Psalm 43:3-4

Hebrews 5:7
Psalms 22:1
Matthew 22:36-37

Does He Love Me?

I feel like I have entered something of a quiet season. For me a little quiet is like gold, but too much can feel oppressive. Ok that's dramatic, its just that once again I am looking at the beginning of a long day which doesn't have much to fill it. That makes someone out there green with envy I know, but keep in mind I'm not on vacation, I'm home feeling the yucks.  Days 9-15 following an infusion are the point at which white blood cells are the lowest and I am at day 13 today, right in that window. I have some dental work that can't be fixed while on chemo, so I'm going to the dentist to see if I have an infection making me feel sick.  If its not the tooth, then I may need to limit being around groups of people. Work, exercise class, biweekly walks around the lake with my friend, fellowship events at church, church itself, dates with Ben or others, all have had to go by the wayside in some way or another during this season, which brings a lot more solitude to life.

All this time gives me time to think, a lot. I always end up pondering the things that matter to me most, like where am I going, and how does God feel about what I am doing? I've always asked God to tear down my flimsy construction job and build me up Himself.  What I mean is, I know I think wrong things, but I want to think God's way. First on that list these past few quiet days has been, "Do I really believe that God loves me? " I mean really loves me? Because if I really did there would be no room for doubt or fear, but to be honest, I've had plenty of both even though I am a follower and a believer. Where do I get off track? Sometimes its really easy to believe, and then there are times when I just can't.

Somehow I think the strength I need comes down to being able to answer this question in the affirmative. If I can't do that, then there is room for lots and lots of other things like fear to come in and take the place of my lost confidence...or other destructive dark clouds like disillusionment, frustration, hopelessness, cynicism or a critical spirit, to name a few. You see, if I truly believe that God loves me, that will affect every other single thing that I think or do in every situation. If He loves me, then my present lack is something that I go through with Him rather than retreat from Him licking my wounds of disillusionment. If He really loves me, then the fear of all those possible disasters I worry about lose their power. If He loves me, I can wait however long it takes to see my prayers answered, or not answered at all.

The problem is, the times when troubles come is when its really easy to doubt. We forget that Job went through an intense season of loss and suffering, but though he cursed the day he was born he never cursed his God. Jesus felt forsaken by His Father when he took on the sins of the whole world, "Father, why have You forsaken me?",  but He stayed on the cross and saw it through. Corrie Ten Boom, who wrote about the her suffering and the death of her entire immediate family in concentration camps in WWII, toured Europe after the war admonishing others to forgive each other as she also forgave her captors. They say that in the years before death as she lay in a coma that the power of the Holy Spirit was so strong in her room that it made people weep who went to visit her. I visited my friend a little while ago who was in her last few days on this earth because of cancer, who put her arms around my shoulders and prayed that God would heal me so that I could live.  Start looking around and you too will find that you don't have to go far to find people living in the power of believing that God loves them.

The bible says that faith, hope and love exist, but the greatest of them all is love. Although in context it refers to the value of what we offer to others, I've seen a new wrinkle to its meaning in this meditation. I believe love is the greatest of them all for the additional reason that it makes faith and hope possible.

I'll bet most of you don't know this, but if you have always had hair and then you have none, its like the tinfoil got removed and you have a clearer connection with the other world. Its much more difficult to be pretentious when you head is uncovered, easy to feel vulnerable, but also more free to be emotionally unrestrained. Spiritually, this is a good place to be. Maybe for some of us that is what the whole journey is about, to be more attentive, more honest, to communicate with God from the heart rather than just the mind, and to get to the root of things...like answering the question straight on without shrinking back, "Does He love me?"  If I can accept that the answer is yes, then no matter what is going on in my life at the moment, abundant life is possible right here today.

So that's what I'm thinking about this quiet day!

Prospering

We let our chickens have free run of our property now that the dogs leave them alone. Yesterday a coyote came to the other side of the fence on got everyone in a dither.  Sick me was trying to relax on the porch, but they all moved in closer to the house and squawked like mad, for a few hours. Then one ate the egg of another and I started to lose my cool.  I begged my son running off to church to corral them back into the hen house far away in the corner. "My ride is waiting!" followed by my pathetic "OK just go then".  The ride waited, the son chased chickens, and the subsequent peace was as wonderful as a savory piece of dark chocolate with nuts and dried fruit.  Granted everything ached, but its embarrassing how easily I lost control of my well- honed maturity, over chickens!

When you are stripped a bit, of your glory, your strength, your peace, whatever, I'm experiencing just a taste of how easy it is to lose a grip on joy.  I don't mean party party fun fun, but that joy that keeps us feeling balanced and hopeful and moving ahead in our "groove".  Balanced.  My faith can get out of balance too. To me faith is like air, its what keeps me alive, it gives me a reason for being here, it gives me hope for what comes next and that makes now doable. So faith out of balance throws everything off for me, just like chickens can. I've been thinking quite a bit lately of some people I really care about who are tired. Bodies, hope, faith, tired.  We never plan to be worn out or wrung dry,  rather we envision our heart felt hopes coming to life like a movie with ourselves in the leading role, a good movie! The turns life takes can be quite a surprise. Do you understand God's ways?  I often don't. That's why I was so captivated today by Psalms 1.

I like to read the bible with a journal in my other hand and I ask LOTS of questions.  This one is about being blessed, feeling blessed, living a blessed life. I want that, and I want it for the people I love too! A person who is blessed will meditate on God's law and strive to live it. Yikes, that takes time. Then he/she will bear fruit in the right season. Plums are ripe right now, as sweet as sugar, beautiful even to look at, but my fig tree is covered with hard little green figs which are definitely not ready to eat. There is a season for fruit, and it isn't every season. So its ok to feel tired, to see nothing come to fruition that you hope for, to feel off track or sidelined? I suppose so! That gives me grace, breathing room to sit around with no hair,  to be frozen and to be out of season.

"Whose leaf shall not wither"...I also have some orange trees whose leaves are curling in on themselves. That means we need to turn on the water and soak the roots.  A blessed person who meditates and lives by God's laws may not look like they are fruitful when it is not their season for fruit, but their roots are planted by a river of water so their leaves never dry out in a pre death wither no matter what the season, unlike the Chassen orange trees at this moment. The water where I live is expensive and has to be turned on, but this blessed person who meditates on and lives by God's law is rooted next to a continual river of water that keeps them spiritually alive.

The kicker for me today was, "And whatever he/she does will prosper." An immediate question in the journal, "Do you mean prosper financially?" Prosper in what, and how? Let's see, God Himself found money in the belly of a fish when He needed it to pay the temple taxes, but other than that it seems that what He needed to live was supplied daily, not accumulated in store houses or bank accounts.  Looking at His life, He prospered in fulfilling His Father's will for His life.  Do we set out to conquer the Roman empire and end up somewhere much less awe inspiring? What if keeping your faith in adversity by accepting what you cannot change,  choosing humility rather than bitterness, loving more today than yesterday because you nurtured a maturity that enables you to just keep doing it, ...what if that means you have prospered in all that you do?

Jesus asked His close companion and disciple Peter, "Peter, do you love (agapan) Me?" One translator rephrased it for understanding this way, "Do you love Me because I am precious to you, with a sacrificial love which would make you willing to die for me?" He actually asked Peter three times in a row but got only this answer, "Yes Lord, You know I am fond of (philein) You;". or "I have an affection for You because of the pleasure I take in You. "  Perhaps suffering or  disappointment is a completely unique, one of a kind place, with death tangibly present and pleasure painfully absent, where we can give the answer to Jesus that He longs to hear from us.  Perhaps this is what it means to prosper in all that we do.

Can I embrace suffering for how it prospers? It's a good question, and I think that finding the correct answer can restore balance to a day, a year, or even a life where joy has slipped away.

John 21:15

Tea Cup Revival

For those of you who are keeping track, I wanted to follow up a bit more quickly because I sounded so discouraged a few days ago in my last post. Honesty brought that to you, but now for the outcome.  I never got to sleep, but instead was the lucky recipient of a literal tea party right there in my honor in the infusion center! I must say I was the only one with such a celebration there yesterday. My dear friend brought beautiful china cups with red roses painted on them which had belonged to her deceased and beloved mother! This woman always shows me what it is like to SHOW how you care inside.

I didn't need much more than the cups to feel like crying, but they were followed by cucumber and creamed cheese finger sandwiches, (real tea food), strawberries and little tea cookies. Ah, and the hot tea from a thermos of course. I never went to sleep, it was just way too fun. So much for infusion center blues. I felt compassion for my fellow infusies who had very quiet, nose in a book supporters and who themselves were either drugged to sleep or just zoning off with something in their headphones. I on the other hand had fun and it took away all the yuck completely for both Julia and I!

So how else does God revive the discouraged?  I actually got to go for a walk around the lake with my beloved husband that afternoon; the bad feelings won't kick in for a few days. And ice cream with the cake, we got to sit looking at the beautiful lake and talk. It's so good to be away from the house and hard to come by these days with lack of time and lots of kids and broken cars to keep going. But there we were, quietly talking about things near and dear to the heart that I only share with him, and I've missed being able to do that so much lately.

I want to be revived when I pray. I have much to learn in that area, but one thing my amazingly wise husband always reminds emotional me is that there are other things I should be holding on to than a desire for an emotional experience when I pray, and they are so good I thought I might just share them with you too.

1) I am saved, and that is a treasure I need to reflect on first whenever I talk God...my helmet of salvation if you are familiar with the Ephesians 6 armor.

2) I come to Him covered with unearned righteousness because of what He did, nothing I do...my beautiful breastplate of righteousness. Now I do confess my sins I am aware of from day to day living because they burden my soul and grieve or sadden the heart of God.

3) I always start off by reading His word because it is the only real truth (is that redundant?) in the universe. It tells me who He is and what He wants from me/us...my "hold it all together" belt of truth.

4) When I feel weak its harder to move on to the rest, but remembering those things above makes it possible. I hold up my shield of faith, I practice faith, I decide to have faith for the things that trouble me, meaning I courageously and humbly ask for His help instead of relying on myself...my life saving shield of faith.

5) Hopefully at this point I have have enlivened enough faith to use my sword, His word of truth. Does it not say that He is near to the broken hearted? Does it not say that if I draw near to Him He will draw near to me? Does it not say that He loved me even when I was lost in my sins, and even now that I am not lost in them but simply tormented by heart problems from living here still with a sin nature?  I know these things because of the word of truth, and now I use them to encourage myself and build up my faith, and it gives me the strength to pray.

The final piece of armor is to have my feet covered with the good news about His mercy and forgiveness to sinners like you and me. Well, here I am sharing the good news so I guess I have my shoes on.

But really, emotional me wants an emotional moment, and those come few and far between.  Though feeling raw and weak, I managed to fumble with my pieces of armor through tears and with my baby smooth head held in my hands. I didn't look like much of a warrior to anyone who might have seen, but I guess a lifestyle of focusing on them daily in better times gave me muscle memory that took over when I was drunk with discouragement. How did prayer revive my heart  this time? It's always different, but usually never the direct, personal communication from my heavenly Father that I would choose. This time it was rose covered tea cups and a walk in the park with the one I love.  Christ loving me through His body, the hands, feet and words that come from others to me.

I feel alive again.




PS- If this time is anything like the last, I'm good until Friday night or Saturday and then the fun begins...so I'm living it up right now before it starts saving me from escapee cancer cells!

A New Name

(with a gift from the Poway Wrestlers and lots of hair)

Honestly, I'm not looking forward to what tomorrow brings. I should though because it brings a better prognosis for getting rid of everything that might have settled elsewhere but can't be seen. But the baby side of me doesn't want to have that stuff pumped into my veins, and then all of the subsequent strange and varied sensations it brings for a few days, and that is putting it very nicely.  They put me to sleep last time with a wonderful anti-nausea inserted into the drip tube and the only thing I really remember now is going there. Once again my sweet daughter will be my constant companion, along with one dear friend who will come and keep her company while I catch flies.  She told me today that last time there was quite an interesting young man sitting in the chair across from me who looked to be her same age. He ate a non stop banquet of sandwiches, cokes and chips while carrying on a spirited conversation with his parents as life/death was being inserted into his veins.  An admirable attitude; I'll look more carefully before I go to sleep this time!

I've had a rotten attitude these past few days, so bad that I have avoided people I can't help but be transparent with because they know me too well. Can I blame it on the exciting journey of chemo induced menopause that I am now on,  frustration about tomorrow, missing my husband who has had to work long hours, or all of the above? Perhaps, but I say this to spotlight the truth, that despite the many things it may seem that I am learning on this journey, I am most definitely a pilgrim in progress like anyone else.  There are some people who don't seem to struggle much with their faith, and its not so much that I doubt His realness, rather I question His decisions like a rebellious child. Can anyone relate?

I've been reading "Hind's Feet on High Places" again lately because I nice soul gave it as a gift. Synopsis, it's an allegory about the spiritual journey of a Christ follower. Her name is Much-Afraid and she lives in the Valley of Humiliation with her menacing relatives the Fearings who want to marry her off to her dreadful cousin Craven Fear.  Fortunately she has met the Good Shepherd from the High Places in the mountains and He promises to take her there to a place filled with the greatest of joys. She escapes her relatives despite her cousins Pride, Self-Pity and Bitterness who are sent to force her to stay. Oh, did I forget that the Shepherd chose two companions to be with her on the journey? I was expecting Love, Joy or Peace and forgot that they were actually two veiled sisters named Sorrow and Suffering!

“When you wear the weed of impatience in your heart instead of the flower Acceptance-with-Joy, you will always find your enemies get an advantage over you.” 
― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places

Where I am in the story now the road has turned away from the far away mountains and is taking her in the opposite direction into the Desert of Loneliness. I found her inner struggle with intense disappointment and discouragement over this turn in the road quite interesting. The Shepherd told her that many had traveled this very same road before her, and each one that got through to the other side became royalty.  Much-Afraid is constantly tormented by her cousins who mock her along the way in this valley, but despite her inner turmoil, in the end she makes the hard decision to trust the promises that the loving Shepherd has made to her, even with difficult companions all around. Does any of this sound familiar? It does to this rebellious child; I should make more such decisions when the going gets rough.

I was in such a foul mood yesterday when I went to get my blood drawn that I'm afraid that I was outright unkind to someone in the cancer club I am now a part of.  A very fit looking man about my age who was having blood drawn like me overheard me say the name of my oncologist. When I sat to wait my turn, he being the only other person there made the friendly gesture of mentioning that he had the same doctor. Was this a new pick up line? I said "Oh", and buried my nose in a magazine. It got uncomfortable. I started to feel bad just in case his motives were completely innocent, and what was I thinking anyhow sitting there looking like a sheik?  But it was too late to say something friendly like, "Oh he's your doctor too, I'm so sorry for what you are going through." The thought occured to me later how easy it is to be rotten to people when you feel that way yourself.

To be perfectly honest, I didn't mention earlier that on shave day I had them leave about 3/8 ths of an inch for a little suggestion of hair. Today all the fuzz started pouring down between my shirt and back, so I entreated my sweet daughter to go at it with a smooth razor and some shaving cream. Wow, it's REALLY like starting over now...like knitting a sweater and pulling it all apart when it's half way done, or going on a long, long journey and turning around long after the mid point because something crucial was forgotten at home, or dropping the freshly made lasagna on the floor...starting all over. I'm good with that. I happen to know that Much-Afraid is going to get a new name and good strong legs to replace her crippled ones when her journey is done.  I am going to do the same right?  Now I could call myself something like "Questions-Much" or "Trusts-Too-Little", but what it will be changed to when my journey is over? I really don't know yet, we'll have to wait and see.

“O Shepherd. You said you would make my feet like hinds' feet and set me upon High Places".

"Well", he answered "the only way to develop hinds' feet is to go by the paths which the hinds use.” 

“The heart knoweth its own sorrow and there are times when, like David, it is comforting to think that our tears are put in a bottle and not one of them forgotten by the one who leads us in paths of sorrow.” 

― Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places