God is Always at Work!

As we come to the end of the year, I reflect on all that has happened this last year. As I look ahead, I think about what the year ahead holds for our family.  Several years ago, I had gotten away from the whole new year's resolution thing, and in recent years I had tried to choose one word to focus on the whole year. Unfortunately, I sometimes find myself forgetting what the word I have chosen is, especially at the end of the year, because I had yet to figure out the best way to incorporate that word into my everyday life. 

This morning I had the brilliant idea to look back at my blogs from the beginning of the year to see if it gave me any clue as to this year's word. So far I have not found it. I likely wrote it in my journal that is back "home" in West Africa. However, I found blogs revealing how God was working in my heart, preparing me for what came at the end of the year, just as the year had begun. 

"I am that Marred Piece of Wood."  God has an image of me, the way that He created me, which is marred by my sin. Thankfully, He does not leave me in that sin but rather continues to shape and mold me into the image He has of me. I have definitely felt like He has been chipping away at me to make me more like Himself. 

"Metamorphosis." Laws of nature prove that pressure and heat bring about refining and beauty. So why do we as humans tend to run from this law of nature? At the time, I was pondering a relationship that was not easy and I wanted to avoid, but it was a relationship which has brought much refining into my life. I had no clue how much refining God had in store for me, and He still has a long way to go.

"Human Being or Human Doing?"  I reflected on how God had grown me over the years from one who was constantly doing to one learning to be what the Lord would have me be. In this time of chemotherapy and surgery, I have had a lot more time to "be still and know" than I had planned. The learning to be rather than do I had experienced was merely scratching the surface of what the Lord longed to show me. 

"It's not About You!" I explored the fact that we often, even using scripture, comfort others with the idea that difficult situations will work out for our good. However, it really is not about us, not me, not you. It is about God receiving the glory!  Though I do not yet see the whole picture, I know this time is not about me but about His glory. 

God was working in my heart preparing me through various lessons for what would come later in the year.  God also laid it on the hearts of some to begin praying for us a month before going to the doctor, where the lump was found on ultrasound. We thought the prayers were for the busyness that we were in at the time. It has become clear that God was working to prepare support for us before we even knew we needed it. God is not ignorant nor does He make mistakes. God is always at work around us. I look forward to seeing how He is going to work in the year to come. 

This will likely be my last post of the year. While there were times in the year that I wrote little to nothing due to Internet issues, I was much more prolific in other months. I had a goal to blog weekly this year. This blog is number 52 for the year, which averages one a week. Thank You, God, for how You have worked in me this year. To You, alone, be the glory and dominion forever and ever, Amen!

Auld Lang Syne

Interpersonal Conflict. It seems to be something we all fall into at some point and yet most of us say we do not like it. Many of us struggle with it at this time of year, as we gather with family.  As we sing "Auld Lang Syne" on New Years, we sing about holding onto those long standing friendships and think of letting those conflicts go. 

I will not say always, but most often conflict is a two way street. Rarely is one side completely innocent when conflict arises. Maybe it is because we say too much. Maybe it is because we do not say enough. Maybe we are the offender. Maybe we are the offended. Maybe we simply enable one side or the other.  

Just a few months ago, I realized how I had offended someone several years ago. I honestly did not see the wrong in what I had done. In turn, the person responded in a way that hurt me. The relationship got into a bad cycle. Neither of us were innocent, and we both have admitted that.  

Two days ago, I was reading Philemon. What profound lessons in such a tiny book. 

Paul is commending Philemon on his love and faith toward Jesus Christ and all the saints. Yet, Paul felt compelled to plea with Philemon to welcome Onesimus, who had previously offended Philemon, or at minimum had been useless to him. Paul pleads for any offense on Onesimus' part to be charged to himself and pleads with Philemon to accept Onesimus for Paul's sake. It appears that Philemon, one full of love and faith, even had to be coaxed into forgiving a brother in Christ. It sounds as if Onesimus had come to faith in the meantime, but maybe he had just grown in his faith. 

It comforts me to know that one known for their love and faith might struggle with interpersonal conflict, letting go of past hurts, thus how much more do I struggle? Yet, I am challenged to let go of past hurts, not only for the sake of the brethren, but indeed for the sake of Christ Himself. 

To whom have I been Onesimus, having been useless or offensive to them, hoping to be accepted by them? To whom am I Philemon, that I would welcome them for the sake of the Gospel? To whom do I need to be Paul, that I might aid in restoration of the brethren? 

O, how I wish that I and the other person had talked out things earlier on and cleared up the miscommunication.  O, how I wish that I could redeem the time with that one. However I rejoice in the restoration that has come in the last few months, and I ask guidance on other relationships that still need the work of grace. 

"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit."

He Longs To Do More!

This morning as I walked outside, I stepped into the mushy, soaked ground that resulted from the rains we have been having.  You know the kind, where the water in the grass and mud get between your toes. I was reminded of the story I read with Lydia-Ann last night as I put her to bed. We read the all familiar one about Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt and into the wilderness.

The Israelites were fleeing the approaching Egyptian army.  The Red Sea lay before them. The Israelites were afraid. Moses was caught between a fearful people and trusting God. God commanded Moses to stretch out his hand. Then it happened.

The Sea did not draw back enough for the people to wade across.
It did not draw back enough for them to walk across.
They did not get mud between their toes.
No, they walked across on dry land.

God could have stopped earlier than He did, and the Israelites still be saved.  However, God chose to do more. We all have obstacles in our way. Many of us believe that God can remove the obstacle, but do we believe that He can really "make the ground dry"?  What obstacles do you have in your life?  He longs to do more! He longs to do imaginably more than all we can ask or imagine!

"Does That Mean Christmas Changes Too?"

Picture it. Alabama farm. 1943. The war is going on, but no difference on this farm other than the empty seat at the table for the brother off to war. Harvest time means the family can afford a bag of fruit, Hook cheese and soda crackers, a bag of walnuts and Brazil nuts, and a gallon of oysters. The 6 year old boy gets a puzzle of the United States to learn the states and their capitals.  Like every other year, Christmas was simple that year. 

The world is changing.

Picture it. Shreveport. 1946. The war is over. Everyone is coming home and in need of jobs. Couples that rushed to get married before they went off to war were in need of housing. Not enough housing. Not enough jobs. A family finds a place to stay with family out in the country.  They go chop down a pitiful tree in the field. The momma gets a job just before Christmas. She is given a bag of oranges. The little girl, age 6, gets a simple rubber ball wrapped in paper. A simple tree, a simple bag of fruit, and a simple gift. Christmas was simple that year.

The "world is changing, 

I'm rearranging,

Does that mean Christmas changes too?" 

Picture it. Shreveport. 2014. Family does not have all the nativity scenes that they generally put up, none but a simple one stored away in the back of the garage. The family does not have their three trees from "back home" with all of their decorations, only a simple one with a handful of ornaments they were given this year. The 9 year old girl talks about missing the way the family decorates. The mom agrees and tells her that she and dad miss the decorations too. However, they are glad for what they have and are glad to be together. 

"My world is changing,

I'm rearranging,

Does that mean Christmas changes too?"

Last month, I went to a class on coping with cancer through the holidays. One of the things they said is that this year, Christmas will be different than it has been in the past, and it is going to be different than Christmas in the future. (Enter ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future from A Christmas Carol.)  This year, the focus for us has to be on our healing.  I had already scrapped a lot of plans of things that I would normally want to do. We would not go to Marshall to see the Wonderland of lights. (sad face)  We would not go to Natchitoches to see the lights and fireworks. (tear)  We would not do a lot of things that I push us to do while in the states. 

This weekend, I began reflecting on what we were not doing and why. I began to think that pushing to do all those things when we are here only serves to add to the things we miss when we are not here. I began to think about what we do when we are overseas, why we do them, what makes them special, and wonder if we should not bring our overseas traditions to this side of the ocean. 

Overseas we have a candlelight Christmas service, because we want to worship the One whose birth we are celebrating. We invite our coworkers and other English speakers who would like to join us for this time. The service of scriptures and songs is followed by a meal with whoever is around. Being the hosts, we provide the most of the food and yet others bring something to add as well. After the meal, we spend time visiting and sharing our favorite Christmas memories.  We enjoy the wide group around us. The next day we may or may not see anyone else outside of our immediate family. Only our closest "family" might come over to see the children open their presents. Then we have a relaxed day of playing their new games and watching new movies and enjoying a restful day of reflection. 

What does that mean for this year? Still not totally sure. What will I be feeling up to doing, physically or emotionally? Still not sure.  I am hopeful that this may be our best Christmas yet, our most reflective, and make for new Christmas traditions that last for a very long time to come.  Maybe it will be the most we have ever reflected on the Savior whose birth we celebrate at this time. 

"Remember How Far You Have Come"

On a trip to Kenya almost four years ago, I got to feeling sick on our last night and was laying on the floor. A "friend" of mine took a picture of me. Since this is not the general picture I would take, I asked her why she did it. She said something along the lines of, "It's good to remember how you felt and how far you have come."

I cannot say that I am in total agreement with my "friend," but I am trying to remember that lesson today.

Today I go for a post-operative checkup with my plastic surgeon. He will unwrap the bandages and change the dressings over where I had surgery last week. I admit to being nervous about what that will look like. I am preparing myself for something traumatic.

However I am reminding myself of how far I have come. Last week I could not even get out of bed by myself.  In the wee hours of the morning today, I rolled out of bed to use the bathroom, took my medicine, and got back in bed all by myself. Last week, I was just happy to have someone else clean my face. Today, I was able to clean my face and even put on some make up. Though I had finished chemotherapy, not all my hair was gone, i.e. I had kept my most of eyebrows, eyelashes, and arm hair.  Now, I find that the hair on top of my head is already starting to grow back.

Cancer is a battle. Today, I have a feeling that I will feel like a wounded warrior.  Much like a soldier draws strength from his fellow soldiers, I will draw strength from my fellow warriors.
I will remember how far I have come.
I will press on!

Update: the appointment was not nearly as traumatic as I imagined. I think I pictured a sunken chest, not really sure why, maybe because I have seen that before in those ill overseas. However, my lungs and rib cage are just fine. Yes, there are scars and things do look different, but it was not nearly as traumatizing as I had prepared myself to see. Two of my five drains were removed, which was painful but showed progress.  So grateful for good reports.  Last week, I underwent a painful   procedure. This week, there are no cancer cells in my body. Where the cancer cells were in the lymph  nodes and breast were all removed. The only node with cancerous cells still post chemotherapy only measured 7mm. Bam!  Take that cancer!

Would You Rather...?

"Would you rather?" seems to be a popular game these days. We have bought the travel version of the board game for one of our children. (Shhhhh, don't tell. it's for Christmas.) We have friends overseas who play a game called, "Would you rather" Wednesdays to help their prayer supporters understand a little more about where they live. 

Going through chemotherapy is a lot like playing "Would you rather?" One has to make choices in how they will expend their energies, even more than normal.

For example, a single mom going through chemo with teenagers and young adults might need to use her energies to work to support her children, who are able to help her out more around the house. They do not need her constant care and are even able to care for her. Thus she would choose to use her energies to work, and then collapse once she gets home. 

Someone who loves to exercise might use their energies to get back to running.  That is obviously not me.

For me, I chose to save my energies for my children once they got home from school.  I would rest most of the time during the day so that I would have enough energy to help with homework. Since we are not homeschooling through this, helping with homework helps me to feel connected with them. They will sometimes say that they miss homeschool. However, I think they would sometimes rather me not oversee their homework, as many corrections as I find for them to make. 

Yes, as a result of chemotherapy, I have had to make choices about how to expend my energies. Sometimes I have been kept in check by a sweet lady at church telling me I am doing too much. 

However, we all make choices everyday about how to expend our energies and our time.  Though we might sometimes feel like things or people are stealing our time and energies, honestly, we choose how to spend them. During this time, my list of things to dedicate my energies to has been short. I am looking forward to the time I have more energy and can do more things, but I will still have to choose how I use it. 

So what would you rather??

The Chicken or the Egg?

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? 

Which comes first, chemotherapy or surgery? 

When you are going through a process like cancer treatment, you don't necessarily know what others have done or why.  You don't know that you are doing something different.  You assume everyone has done the same thing.  

When I went to see the plastic surgeon who will be doing my reconstruction, he indicated that he generally sees the patient for surgery before the chemotherapy has been done. 

Two weeks ago at a coping with cancer class, I heard several women say that they had surgery first. Actually all of them that I heard from said they had. I was asked why I had chemotherapy first, and I could not think to articulate at that moment all the reasons why. 

I began to write about it but then set that topic aside.  

Last night I was asked by another couple, who said that they had been asked by others, so I decided to revisit the topic. 

Why did I do chemotherapy first? 

First, doing chemotherapy first would allow for clearer margins for the surgery. When surgery is done, they want to ensure that they remove all the cancer and that there are no stray lines.  They want to know that they have cleaned the body out. Chemotherapy allowed for shrinking of the tumors to allow the surgeon to clearly see the margins.

Second, my body was stronger to handle the chemotherapy. Some have been amazed that I have handled the chemotherapy so well. While the greatest reason for this has been all the prayer support, it is aided by the fact that my body was not already weakened by surgery.  I have gained weight, which surprised some people, but this is actually common with chemotherapy for breast cancer.  While I have lost almost all my hair, I still have most of my eyebrows and eyelashes, which is not common with my chemotherapy drugs. My strength and ability to bounce back from treatments has been better than expected. 

Third, chemotherapy before surgery allowed us to see that the chemicals were actually doing their job. If we had removed the tumors first, we might not have known that the drugs were having any effect. Instead, the doctor was able to tell that the tumors were shrinking to the point of having nothing to really palpate toward the end of treatment. 

Fourth, chemotherapy was going to be required if the cancer was in the lymph nodes. At the time that we started chemotherapy, we did not know for sure that it was, because we were still waiting on results from the lymph node biopsy. When we got the results, it confirmed that we made the right choice because the cancer had begun to spread to the lymph nodes. 

In conclusion, there was no scenario where my oncologist was going to feel comfortable with me not having chemotherapy.  For my surgeon's sake, she could have done it before chemotherapy, because she is just that awesome, but the clearer margins will hopefully make her job easier.  Personally, doing chemotherapy allowed me to use my best strength for what could be the most taxing and gave me peace of mind that the chemicals were not going into my body for no reason. Over time, it was revealed to be the best and wisest decision for me.  

So....

Why a bilateral mastectomy if the tumors have already shrunk? 

The first surgery option is a lumpectomy, where they merely cut away the actual tumors. In my case, more than one tumor and their spacing in different areas of the breast meant there would be too much cut out.  Thus it would make more sense to go straight to a mastectomy. 

 

While choosing to just have the infected breast removed was an option, there was still a ten percent chance that the cancer could come back in the other breast.  I am thankful that I was able this time to get to the doctor overseas, who had wisdom to know I needed to get the tumor taken care of as soon as possible. I cannot be certain that I would get to a doctor next time before it spread even further.  So having a bilateral mastectomy seemed to be the best route to prevent a reoccurrence that might have more complications and would take us away from overseas service yet again. 

That couple that I was talking with last night helped to confirm that decision for me. They were serving overseas when she had her first breast cancer diagnosis. She had been treated with radiation and moved on. Five years later, she was diagnosed again. At that time, she had a bilateral mastectomy. She, as with so many other survivors, has been so encouraging to me, but her husband has also been a great help to prepare Rich for his duties once the surgery occurs. Yes, bilateral mastectomy is the way for me at this time. 

Bad Situations, Good Results

Another title could be, "Yes, I am Human," because this is about some very real emotions, which are not always reliable and have to be worked through to get to truth.

Have you ever had someone frustrate you so much that you do something you should have done anyway?  Today I apparently needed a fresh look at my situation, but I did not like how it came about.

In middle school, I had a teacher that made completely chauvinistic remarks. (I will not say what school or his name, since I think he still teaches there.). It provoked my friends and I to say that we would succeed in order to prove him wrong. Yeah, maybe that was his plan, but it agitated us into it rather than inspiring us. 

When Rich and I as a young married couple began feeling called to serve overseas, we went to talk to a consultant who worked with a company for overseas service. Instead of inspiring us and helping us to know what we needed to follow where we felt God leading, he caused me to doubt my salvation at most and the legitimacy of my baptism at the least. It lead me to reflect and seek clarity on my conversion and baptism, which was good, but the reason I got there was not pleasant. 

I have had lots of excuses for not going bald in public, since we shaved my head. 

I am using head wraps and scarves because that is what I am used to overseas. 

People are uncomfortable enough with me in a scarf, so I don't want others to feel uncomfortable. 

Et cetera, et cetera.

But deep down, 

I was thinking of the woman who went out to lunch with her husband, and the waitress called them "gentlemen."

I was scared to look too manly, I.e. look like my brother, who is a handsome man but not who I want to look exactly like. (One of my children said they did think I looked like him at first.) 

Et cetera, et cetera. 

On the other hand, I have been encouraged by some amazing women who have walked this road before me. One even saying that she was told to say, "screw it," to those who had issues with her being bald. She said she could not say that, but she was told to think it.

Today a comment was made that brought me to tears, heaving ugly tears.  It does not really matter what was said or who said it.  Unfortunately, I will be hearing them in my mind for a long time. (Even when you forgive, the hurt does not easily go away.)  I wanted to say some really nasty things to and about the person who hurt me.  However, as Ecclesiastes 3:7 says, there is "a time to be silent, and a time to speak." There in my emotion was not the time to speak.  I wanted to slap someone, and I don't mean a Gibbs' slap. As Aunt Em from The Wizard of Oz said, "I've wanted to tell you what I've thought of you, but, well, now, being a Christian woman, I can't say it."  I finally got to the "I'll show them" phase, which is the point at which I touched up my makeup and posted the picture of me for all of Instagram and Facebook world to see.  I really should have done that a long time ago, like my husband wanted me to do.  I did not like the situation that brought me to that moment, but I am so glad I did it! 

As I worked through the four stages of grief as a result of this offense, I came to a full acceptance of the situation. 

Yes, I am bald!

Yes, I will be having a surgery in less than two weeks that will remove my breasts! 

Hair and breasts do not define who I am! 

I am a child of the One True King! 

I am beautifully made in His image! 

I am an Overcomer, just like every one of my sisters who have battled this terrible disease!  

No matter how many times you hear, "this is the one to have if you are going to have one," or how many survivor stories you hear, the very real threat of losing one's life when you see others who have not won their battle does not go away. 

I am mortal! Maybe I will beat this cancer and live a long life. Maybe I won't. But either way, My God is the One True King and my life is in His hands! 

Waiting Well

Waiting. It is not a strength of most humans. The phrase "wait for the Lord" is used eleven times in scripture. The first time it is used follows the phrase, "why should I." Most of us have asked that at one time or another.  "Why should I wait?"  Many have asked specifically, "Why should I wait for the Lord?"

Let us look at how things worked out for some people who did not wait for the Lord. 

Let us start with Abraham. God promised to make his descendants like the stars of the sky while he still did not have one child. After waiting for years, his wife suggested the use of her maid as the vessel through which the blessing would occur, and he went along with it. Within his home, it created great strife, which continues today in the descendants of this man. God gave him the son He promised twenty-five years after the promise, but not without consequences. Waiting is hard! 

Our second example is Joseph. God gave visions of grandeur to Joseph, who subsequently shared these visions with his siblings and parents. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why his brothers did not like the idea that they would one day bow down to their younger brother. (Wink wink) Joseph then suffered being sold into slavery at the hands of his brothers and then imprisonment after being falsely accused by his employer's wife. God fulfilled the vision, but the road to it was not easy. Waiting is hard!

Third came Moses. God's people had been enslaved and had been crying out for deliverance. God sent Moses to be born in the midst of this and provided a way for him to be saved from death. Forty years later, Moses tries to take on the role of defender of the Israelites by killing an Egyptian. He marveled at the fact that the Israelites he encountered did not understand that he has there to save them. He fled for his life to the wilderness where he became a shepherd for forty years. Then God called him to deliver His people and gave instructions as to how it was to be done. Moses tried to make excuses as to why he could not do it. A very different man from the one who tried to deliver by murder. God had work to do in Moses' life. Waiting is hard! 

These examples are not the only ones, but you get the idea. Now of the eleven uses for the phrase "wait for the Lord," seven are found in The Psalms, which were written by David. David was by no means perfect, but he does show us how to "wait for the Lord."

Saul was king in Israel and yet he disobeyed the Lord. Because of his disobedience, Samuel was sent to anoint the next King. The Lord told Samuel to anoint David, a shepherd boy. Once this was done, the Spirit of the Lord left Saul, who began to be vexed. Saul sent for a boy to play the harp for him, to soothe his spirit. David was brought to do so. David did not tell Saul that he had been anointed but rather served the king. When Saul and the Israelite army went to battle, David went back to his family and cared for the sheep. David's father sent him to the battle to take food to his brothers and bring news from the front.  David heard Goliath taunt the army of God and  volunteered to go fight. As a shepherd, David had slain a bear and a lion to defend the sheep, and he was confident that God would help him to fight the giant as well.  David had the victory that day, which also lead to the hand of Saul's daughter in marriage and friendship with Saul's son. Saul grew jealous of David and sought to kill him. However, David would not lift his hand against the king, though he had more than one opportunity to kill him. David sought to "wait for the Lord" even when his life was in danger. 

The last three uses of that phrase, "wait for the Lord," are as commands found in the book of the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah prophesied many things regarding The Messiah and His coming.  After the prophets spoke, God seemed to be silent and the people waited 400 years for the Promised One.  Then when Jesus did come, He was not what the people expected. Jesus was also very concerned about waiting until His time had come. As Luke 2 shows us, He knew He was to be about His Father's work, and yet He lived in subjection to Mary and Joseph as His parents. 

I have found myself waiting a lot lately.  I wait for the next treatment.  I wait to find out results.  I wait with preparation for surgery.  I wait for us to return overseas, and it gets harder every time our time to return gets pushed back by this treatment process.  Waiting is hard! However, God will fulfill His promises and plans if we will but wait for Him. 

We Do our Part. He Does His.

Last Thursday was one of THOSE days. My morning had been a little busy but good. Then William had come home without his sweatshirt or his coat, meaning he was going to have only a small jacket to wear the next morning. I got back home with William from the dentist before Rich made it home from Mariama's guitar class, so I got started on dinner. Unfortunately, I did not do it the way Rich had planned, so he was disappointed and I felt bad. Since Mariama had some issues making right choices on Wednesday, I felt like I had to follow her around to make sure she made right choices. Every time Rich and I tried to shake off the frustrations, something else would happen to aggravate us again.  One of those days when none of it is really bad, but the combination just makes the day hard. 

Then it was bedtime. It is probably my favorite time of day, because we get to talk with our children. I was working on putting the girls to bed and walked by William's room. I was shocked to find him reading a book, not that I was shocked to see him reading a book, but rather shocked that he had already finished reading His Bible. I asked if he had already read his Bible. He said he had but my gut told me differently. I asked if he had really read or simply skimmed. I just kept looking at him. He said that he could look back over it. He then admitted that he had only read the section headings.

I was so upset! He had lied to me! He had disrespected me! He disrespected God! 

After taking my shower to settle down, I went back in William's room to talk with him. He apologized and confessed to having read only the section titles for a while now. Once again, my heart was broken, but it made me feel better that he confessed and that he asked for forgiveness. Then the conversation got deeper....

William said that he he has been struggling and has been asking God for help, but he does not feel like God is answering. I tried to help him see some answers that I knew about already.  I also reminded him that God promises, "seek and you shall find, ask and you will receive, knock and the door shall be opened." God promises to answer but we must first seek, ask, and knock. We cannot expect God to answer, but not do our part, basics such as reading His Word. That is like a farmer expecting a field to produce a crop without going to sow the seed (or a man asking God for work but not sending out resumes or getting out to apply). We have to be obedient to what we know to do. God is ready to answer.  However, we might not be hearing if we are not reading His Word, or maybe He is answering in a way we do not expect. 

He began to see my point.  Then it was time to pray before bed. I asked him to pray first, and then I would. He confessed to the Lord and kept asking over and over again if God could forgive him. I let him finish his prayer while I stepped out to grab my Bible.  I turned to 1 John 1:9. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."  When he finished praying, I read this verse to him. Then I talked with him about what it means to confess.  True confession involves admitting our sin (be it doing what God has told us not to do or not doing what God has told us to do), understanding why it is sin, and desiring not to repeat that sin again.  So if we truly confess, then we can be confident that He forgives us because He is faithful and He keeps His promises. We do not have to wonder if He can or if He will, for His promise is there. What a comfort! What joy! What confidence! 

Friday was a new day and we enjoyed God's mercies, which are new every morning. He still had to suffer consequences for yesterday, getting out in the freezing cold to go to school without his large coat, but thankfully yesterday's unrighteousness was washed away. 

Today, I got the pleasure of taking William to school and sitting in on their chapel time. I recalled the above story as we sang "There is a Fountain." 

"And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains." 

Surgery and Reconstruction

To reconstruct or not reconstruct, that is the question!

(Warning: content may be uncomfortable for some readers.)

I would be lying if I said that I have never even faintly considered breast augmentation of any kind. After nursing three children for a year each and gravity taking its toll as I get older, I actually debated a few years ago on whether it would be something I would want. (Not to mention, living where it is so hot, that any extra piece of clothing I can eliminate would be a relief.)  However, I came to the conclusion that I could not in good conscience have that type of surgery while trying to teach my daughters to love how God created them and their bodies. In addition, they are two of the three reasons why my body does not look like it used to, right? I also felt it was not prudent financially. 

This July at my yearly physical is when the tumors were detected, and I was subsequently diagnosed. This was the same doctor who delivered both my girls. Two years ago at my checkup, this same doctor asked if we were done having children. I said we were. I had also been eating right and exercising, causing me to be the fittest and thinnest I had been in a long time. This doctor told me I should tell my husband to get me new breasts, since the children had taken mine away. (I texted this suggestion to a friend of mine who asked if I told the doctor to tell his wife to get him a new brain.) I knew that I had already privately been through this debate myself and was able to dismiss it.  

Now two years later, I am fighting breast cancer and looking at a double mastectomy to make sure that all the cancer is removed and to reduce the chance for it to return in the other side. As a result, I am looking at breast reconstruction. While I know that having breasts does not define me as a woman, I do like having a feminine figure. I also know that my husband would love me either way, with or without breasts.  

This week as I prepared for my appointment with my plastic surgeon, I began to debate which option would be best for my ministry and God's glory.  Does God even care what I do about this? Would not having breasts but my husband still loving me be an opportunity for greater testimony as I return to West Africa? How can I think of something so "frivolous" when I am already so blessed medically compared to the options for the women where we live? Through the insight of my friend I mentioned earlier, I realized that most of the women would not even understand. It is not like they are going to see them anyway.  For those that might understand, if they knew the option was there, they would probably wonder why I did not have it done. I drew the parallel for myself along the lines of air conditioning. The people there do not have it because they cannot afford it, but they think we are crazy if we do not have it. (Much simpler subject I know but still a topic of debate among coworkers.)  If I have air conditioning to help me sleep to function better in ministry, then why not have reconstruction for my own mental well being to enable me to function better? The downside is that it possibly pushes our return to the field out a little farther. I was so not happy about this, but my husband reminded me that it is not my timing, but the Lord's. I was less than grown up in my response to him, but he was right. 

So once again, as I checked in with my oncologist before my chemotherapy this week, he said all my levels were good and examined me for any sign of tumors. Despite much searching and pressure, he could not find them to measure them. My last chemotherapy is in two weeks, so he said scheduling surgery in four weeks would be great. It is currently scheduled for four and a half weeks, on December 9th, with my breast specialist who is the surgeon and with the plastic surgeon. I still have time to change my mind regarding reconstruction, but this is where I am at right now. 

Your prayers are much appreciated as we approach surgery and for peace as we get closer to it. I have never been in the hospital overnight, with exception to giving birth to my children, so this does cause some concern, in particular for being away from my children and any anxiety they might have. 

Neuropathy in The Body

"Peripheral neuropathy is damage or disease affecting nerves, which may impair sensation, movement, gland or organ function, or other aspects of health, depending on the type of nerve affected."

A common side effect of the chemotherapy medication I am on now is neuropathy. For some, it is more directed at the feet. For others, it may affect both hands and feet. For me, it seems to be more directed at my fingers. After the first round, the fingers on my right hand seemed to be numb a lot. After round two, it seems to be in my left hand as well, though not yet as strong as in the right.  

I looked up the definition stated above.  A spiritual analogy came to mind. 

We as believers are the Body. When the disease of fear or injections of negativity come into the Body, it often results in numbness, apathy within the rest of the Body. The parts which serve fail to sense the need and thus do not fulfill their tasks.  We must be vigilant to keep the Body healthy, so that we do not become apathetic. The origin of the infection within the Body may deny its responsibility for the inactivity of the hands and feet, however we must all as part of the Body beware of how we are causing neuropathy in the extremities. It can be easy to point fingers, but we must examine our contribution or lack of it. We must be going out beyond the Body in the shoes shod with the Gospel to those still needing to hear the Good News. We must reach out our hands to the world hurting and in need. 

Yesterday in the morning cold of the race, both hands became so cold that I could hardly feel them at all. As they thawed, the numbness remained in the pads of the finger tips. Praying that the numbness in the Body will just be from the cold and will become active again as the Body thaws in the presence of the Light.      

I Hate School!

What student hasn't said that before? More specifically, what middle schooler, sixth grader even, has not said those words at one point or another? 

Last week, my daughter told me that her brother felt that way. I inquired of him whether that was true. He confirmed that he indeed felt that way. 

I expressed doubt about the truth of that statement. I told him that his teachers at parent-teacher conference said that he is an eager learner and one they can always count on to have the answers, in addition to being a joy to his teachers. So I asked again if it was true that he hated school.

He confessed that it was not completely true. Maybe he just dislikes school. Truth be told he mainly dislikes homework and struggles in making true friends. He said that every day is a struggle except Saturdays and Sundays. He looks forward from one weekend to the next. 

I told him that it can be easy to focus on the struggles and not see the good stuff. If look forward from one weekend to another, we miss the blessings of each day. I confessed that it could be easy for me to only look forward to returning to West Africa, but then I would miss all the blessings that God gives us between now and then. I told him that I have some really tough days, but even on those days, I find things for which to be grateful. (This conversation taking place on some of my worst post-treatment days.) 

The next morning as he got ready for school, I reminded him to look for the good things of the day. When he encountered a rough spot, think how he could change the situation, and where he cannot change the situation, he can change his attitude about it. 

This lesson sounded a lot like one we learned earlier in the year about enjoying the moments you have, because you may never have that opportunity again. However, maybe I needed the reminder as much as he did to keep pressing on and keep looking for the good things, especially on those really hard days. 

At the end of the week, while praying before bed, he changed in the middle of his prayer from "give me friends" to "give me more friends" showing he was able to be grateful for the friends he does have. This positive outlook was a step in the right direction. 

Keeping my Eyes on Jesus

Since being on chemo and wearing my scarves after losing my hair, almost everyone has commented on how pretty my eyes are. When one of the ladies at the lab commented on them, I realized that they have always been my best feature, but so often in the past, my hair distracted from them. Of course my blue scarf also helps to highlight the blue of my eyes as well. 

Thinking of eyes makes me think of a very special hymn. 

"Turn your eyes upon Jesus, 

Look full in His wonderful face, 

And the things of this earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."

That song has been running through my head this last week as I have been reading about the ministry and miracles of Jesus. In being fully God, Jesus was not limited in His own power to perform miracles. However, when in his hometown, he was limited by the faith of the people around him to do much. The degree of miracles seems to be more related to the faith of those involved, most often the loved ones of the person needing healing but also at times the person needing healing. One may have needed Jesus to come to the house to heal the person, where as the other asked Jesus to simply speak the word. One felt the need to have Jesus lay His hands on him, whereas another simply desired to touch the hem of his garment. The disciples saw Jesus do so many miracles and yet they would so quickly forget Who He was and what He was capable of doing. 

One day they saw Jesus feed 5000 men plus women and children with only five loaves and two fish leaving twelve baskets of scraps once everyone was satisfied. Jesus sent the disciples away in a boat and then sent the people home. Jesus went to pray. Then as the disciples were in the middle of the sea, Jesus began walking toward them. They were scared and feared He was a ghost. Upon recognizing Him, Peter asked to be called out to talk on the water. Jesus called him out. As long as Peter kept His eyes on the Lord, he was able to walk on water as well. However, when he took his eyes off of the Lord and put them on his circumstances, he began to sink. None the less, Jesus rescued Peter by lifting him up out of the water. 

How often I am like Peter. I see Jesus and know I can do anything that He calls me to do. I hurriedly obey, but then I look around at my surroundings and let reality distract me. Oh, how I want to go deeper in my faith. I don't want to sink. I want to keep my eyes on Him and trust Him in every circumstance, even when it is not rational. The song "Oceans" has been a favorite of mine for years, specifically for the part, "wherever You would call me," for our time of being overseas. Now I find myself drawn to the whole of it, to see my faith made stronger. "I will keep my eyes above the waves." 

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, 

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would call me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior." 

God is Good!

I wrote this blog Sunday, but I am just now posting it.

Last weekend, I took my wonderful hubby out for his birthday. As we pulled into the parking lot for the movie, there was a lady giving testimony on the radio. She apparently had been concerned about a lump that was found, but it turned out to not be cancer. She was telling of the goodness of God. While I can understand giving praise to God for good results, I was disturbed to hear that as a basis for His goodness. 

God is good because He is good, not because I get the result I want. God is sovereign and in charge, whether it is the way I want things or not. 

Because my tests were positive for cancer, does that mean God ceases to be good? Absolutely not!

When Jesus did not go right away to Lazarus, upon hearing of his friend's illness, did He stop being good? No! Instead He received greater glory upon raising Lazarus to life again. 

As I read my study this morning, it asked how I might talk to Jesus differently if He were sitting right beside me. Initially, I thought I would ask for Jesus to take away the pain I have in my knees and other joints as a result of this week's treatment. I know my sweet faith healing friends would say He would touch my knees and remove the pain. However, I would then jump up to serve Him, in my very Martha fashion. Instead, He might choose to leave the pain to keep me still before Him, sitting like Mary at His feet, remembering that He is God. 

So whether I get the result I want or not, I will praise the Lord! 

"He gives and takes away, he gives and takes away,

my heart will choose to say, Blessed be the name of the Lord." 

Joy in the Journey

Last week, I was supposed to be at a conference by the name of this post. I was looking forward to this women's retreat.  A group of women all serving together across the same continent gathered together in South Africa, which I had looked forward to exploring a little. I had been told early in the week that the ladies would be praying for me throughout the retreat. How humbling to have such an amazing group of women lifting me up in prayer. However, all in all, I had not really gotten sad about missing out on that week until Thursday came. 

At our church here, they had a women's ministry dinner. I saw many women who I love dearly and who have shown love for me. It was a beautiful dinner, but it was not South Africa. Oddly enough the topic of the dinner was grief. One of the speakers is a counselor, and she shared on the stages of grief. Not just grief over a loved one's death, but also grief over a job, loss of a friendship, a move, a diagnosis of cancer. As I listened, I gauged where I was on the phases and how I had gone through each one. I got teary eyed as I grieved over the loss of not getting to go that retreat. The second woman to speak talked about her own journey through grief and a program they offer to anyone to help them through their grief as well. Griefshare: Your Journey from Mourning to Joy. Of course, the two words "Joy" and "Journey" were bolder than the rest of the words. I laughed. God was not going to let that one slip by me. 

The afternoon before the dinner, I had sent a message via a friend on Voxer to share with the women at the retreat. They played it for all of the women at the retreat to hear. Several of the women went to her later to send a voxer back to me. Once again, I was humbled by their love for me. 

Don't get we wrong.  I have lots of questions. Why are their miscarriages when God is carefully knitting that baby in its mother's womb? Why are their still births? Why does a child die after only a few days? Why are their birth defects when God is able to create without defect? Why do children get cancer? I believe God has a plan for each and every creation of His because His word says so. He gives us our first breath and our last and every breath in between. 

Life though is a journey. It is full of trials. We don't escape them because we are "good" people. The rain falls on the just and the unjust. James admonishes us to, "Consider it all joy,..when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."  We, as followers of Christ, are constantly being shaped and molded into His image if we will allow Him to mold us. Unfortunately, it is those trials that mold us the most. Consider it all joy? Yes, joy that He does not leave me as I am but makes me more of what He intended me to be. 

I like the idea of endurance. So I will consider it all joy in the journey! 

Stones to Children of Abraham

I was going to entitle this blog, "Observations regarding the ministry of John the Baptist," but there was just too much to share. However, in the light of today's holiday, I was struck by one phrase that appears in two translations.  Great multitudes were going to hear John, confessing their sin, and being baptized in the Jordan River. John though had strong words for the Pharisees and Sadducees who came to be baptized. 

Matthew 3:8-9

"Therefore bring forth fruit in keeping with repentance; and do not suppose that you can say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham for our father'; for I say to you, that God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham."

Luke 3:8 echoes these verses, though it directs them at all of the multitudes. 

The thing I find interesting is that the great majority of the people dwelling around the Israelites would also have claimed Abraham as their father. Those the Pharisees and Sadducees would have considered unclean were actually their cousins, if you will.  So to boast of being a descendant of Abraham was not going to be enough to bring them redemption.  Just about anyone, just shy of the stones, would have claimed Abraham. Some such as the Midianites were from a line born of Keturah, a concubine after Sarah's death. Many also were descendants of Ishmael, born of Hagar. 

Ishmael. God promised to make a nation out of his descendants as well, because he too was Abraham's son. A nation indeed. Muslims trace their spiritual genealogy to Ishmael, just as we as Christians trace our lineage through Isaac, through whom Jesus was born. 

Earlier I mentioned a holiday, and some of you are wondering what I could be meaning.  Today is the Muslim celebration of remembrance of the sacrifice made by Abraham. While Genesis 21 is clear that the sacrifice was regarding Isaac, the child of the promise, Muslims understand the sacrifice to have been of Ishmael, the first born unto Abraham by Hagar. In fact, many traveled this week to the place they believed the sacrifice occurred to experience a closeness with the site and their ancestor. More precisely, a journey at this holiday is one of the five pillars of their faith, in hopes that they will be guaranteed entrance to paradise. Many these days are scared of Muslims because of the actions of a "few." While the "few" are large in number, they are small compared to the greater group that are just trying to do the best they can from what they know. Can we show them mercy as God showed mercy to Ishmael when he was sent away by Abraham? 

For us, it is not enough to point to Abraham, or any other hero of the faith, for our position with God. It's not even enough to know who Jesus is, for even Satan knew and still tried to tempt Jesus. John said that we must "bring forth fruits in keeping with repentance," because he went on to warn, "every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." Am I bringing forth fruit in accordance with repentance, according to the grace which I have received? Am I rooted and grounded in Jesus to be able to bring about that good fruit?