15 Minutes...

I received a smidgeon of bad news today.  Just a smidgeon.  Some people wouldn’t even consider it bad news, but to me, it wasn’t good news.   So, therefore, it must be bad news.  Kinda.  Maybe.  

Regardless, I drove to our nearby lake to read and write and enjoy the morning sun.  With those few words of “bad news” still ringing in my ears, I placed my chair onto the grass and could feel the tears beginning to fill my eyes.   Looking around and making sure no one was nearby, I began to cry.  And I told myself, “I’ll give you 15 minutes to cry.  Get it all out.  Because then you’re giving your worries to God.  Where they belong." 

Easier said than done, huh?  But I know better.  

I know better because I do trust God.  And on the road I’ve been on these last two years, I continue to feel His peace.  And I guarantee you, this road would be so uphill it’s not even funny if I didn’t trust in Him.  Occasionally, I slip.  Which I did today.

This morning in Jesus Calling, I read a sentence that I wanted to re-read a few times.  I read each and every word very slowly:

“Trust is the channel through which My Peace flows into you.”   

Trust.  

I actually met a guy today at my son’s baseball game who can back me up on this.  I told him I would be blogging tonight about trust and knowing God's peace.  He then told me his story.  It’s rough.  So rough that, without God in his life, he didn’t know if he could get through it.  But he is.  Is he struggling?  Are some days harder than others?  You bet.  But he does his best to place his trust in God and continues to lean on Him for strength, patience and courage.  And by trusting Him, which he is, he continues to receive God’s blessings.  And His peace.   

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”  

Phillipians 4:6-7.  

Transcends all understanding.  
Amazing.
But true.

His Dreams...

Most every day I wake up and say, “Lord, what are we gonna do today?  Because I’ve got nothing on my calendar.  All I see is a big, blank space under Tuesday.  Yeck.   And you know me, I need something on my calendar.  So how can you use me today?”

So on those days when I have no Target runs or chemo appointments scheduled, I pray, “Please use me.  Use my words or my hands.  Put me where you want me to be.  Allow me to say what you want me to say.  Put my feet on your path, not mine.”  And then I see where the day takes me. 
 I mean takes us.

I prayed this prayer Tuesday morning as I dropped my daughter off at school.  I then ran a few errands, and decided to text a friend and ask her to meet me for lunch.  While we were eating, she said, “You have no idea how much I needed this today.”  She went on to tell me how challenging her life has been lately.  And just by listening to that little voice inside me that said, “text her and invite her to lunch,” I feel God truly showed up at our lunch table.   The three of us shared a great meal.  

I told her I’m reading a wonderful book titled, “Just Walk Across the Room” by Bill Hybels.  I loved what I had just read.

Hybels writes about a man in the Bible who had a withered, deformed hand and is brought before Jesus for healing.  Without any hesitation, Jesus heals him.  

He writes, “I envision Jesus saying to the good-as-new man, ‘Listen, now that you have two good hands, what are your plans?  Juggling?  Piano?  What is it that you dream of doing, my friend?’  In my imagination, they chat about this man’s long-awaited passion pursuits.  And possibly the man then turns to Jesus and says, ‘Well, what are your dreams?’”  

Hybels goes onto explain the rest of the story, but that question got me thinking.  What if I added the words, “for me.”  What are your dreams for me, Lord?

Do we ever stop and ask God what His dreams are for us?  Or do we just run out ahead of Him and plan everything ourselves?  
I know that’s what I did.

For the majority of my life, I have always had dreams.  In fact, I probably thought about my dreams more than I thought about my reality.  I had dreams of opening a store, of owning a bed and breakfast, of being a writer.  Yada yada yada.  And yada again. And then a thing called cancer entered my life, and I realized that none of those dreams hold any value to me anymore.  

My new dreams pretty much center around eternal, not temporary pursuits.  I now dream of raising my kids into adults who love and trust Jesus, of introducing anyone I know or will ever know to the Lord who I cherish, and of one day sporting gray hair and a face full of wrinkles while using the gifts He has given me to honor His name.  By the way, I mean a lot of gray hair and wrinkles -- way more than I already have.  I'm talkin' grandma gray and wrinkles!

But I love the concept of being healed, or forgiven, or given a second chance, and giving it right back to Jesus by asking, “What do you want to do with my newly healed life?  What amazing things can we do together?  What do you want my Tuesday afternoon to look like next week?

It just might be as simple as lunch with a friend.  Or a lot more challenging, like stepping out of your comfort zone for a day.  Or for the rest of your life.  
  Who knows.  


All I know is that His dreams are now my dreams.  I seek His will above mine.   And I can guarantee you, His dreams are so much grander than mine.

The $1,100 Bone

Please let this post serve as a Public Service Announcement.

Do not give your dog beef bones.

Our guy Tucker was treated to his first beef bone.  And last.

The next morning he started choking up what looked like little Indian arrowheads, or slivers of the bone.  And soon after, he began coughing and spitting up.  And not eating.

After two x-rays, a barium scan, blood work and three medications, we think he'll be fine.  

My husband said he grew up feeding beef bones to his dogs.  So did our vet.  But all it takes is one bone to go down the wrong way and cause irreparable damage. Or worse.

So as our boy lays in the warm sun today and recuperates, we are grateful that all it cost us was money (a lot of it!) and not his life.  

Milkbones for everyone!

I Know That I Know...

In the two short years I have lived with cancer, I have met some amazing people.  And have heard some amazing stories.  So amazing, that when I hear one, I think, I need to share this with you guys.    I like to call these, “I Know That I Know That I Know that God is Real” stories.  You might need to read that line again.  I know that it’s a mouthful, but it hammers it home, doesn’t it? 

So yesterday I met with a woman who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer.  I sat on her couch and chatted about chemo and hair loss and wigs and false eyelashes.  And God’s goodness.  Then she told me about a time in her life before cancer.  
A beautiful story I will never forget.  

I hope you never forget it either...

Sherry and her husband Rex dreamed of having children.  After many disappointments, they turned to their doctor who told them that Sherry’s ovaries did not ovulate.  And without ovulation, there would be no babies.

Regardless, she and Rex answered God’s call of serving as missionaries in West Africa.  Arriving childless, the African people of Lome´, Togo began praying that she and her husband would have children.   They prayed and prayed and prayed for them.  As the Bible teaches, they “prayed without ceasing.”  

One day on a flight home to the states, Sherry became nauseous.  She thought she had malaria and began taking medication to ease her symptoms.  But as she arrived home, the nausea persisted. Did she have malaria?  Nope.  She was pregnant!

Now here’s where the story gets good.  

Do you know how many years they were married before she became pregnant?  Wait for it......... 17 years!  Seventeen!  After seventeen very, very long years, they welcomed a son into their lives.    They named him John Mawuli (African for “God lives!”)  How beautiful, I thought.  My heart melted when I heard that the Africans had given him his middle name.   And are you ready for this?  Two years later, they welcomed a daughter into their lives.  They named her Sarah Kafui (African for “praise Him!”)  Just as beautiful.  Sitting down?  Three years later, they welcomed Rebekah Mawumenyo (African for “God is good!”) into their lives. 

Those middle names say it all, don’t you think?
(And what a testimony when their children explain their unusual middle names to their friends).  I love it.

So here’s the amazing part.  

These three babies who were born to this American missionary couple helped to change that African community in ways that Sherry and her husband could have never foreseen.   You see, their church organization doesn’t send missionaries to that area anymore.  They don’t need to.  The people of Lome´ serve as their own missionaries now sharing the Gospel to those throughout Togo.  Why?  Because their faith, though strong before the couple arrived, just exploded after witnessing the birth of their children.  God had answered their ceaseless prayers.

So what did I walk away with that morning?  That patience is key to prayer. Well, not to mention faith, but I think that one’s a given.  But God needed Sherry and Rex to be without children for 17 years.   I’m sure they didn’t understand.  I’m sure at times they felt that God wasn’t at work in their lives.  I’m sure they may have felt that God had turned His back on them.  

But He didn’t.  

If our prayers align with His will -- then Bingo.  But it may be 17 very long years before we can stand up and shout “Bingo!”

for the whole world to hear.

The Lord works according to His plan.  His timing.  He knew where Sherry and Rex would be 17 years later.  In Africa.  Right where He needed them to be. Working as obedient missionaries and living as examples for all those watching.  And waiting.  To see a miracle.  Seventeen years later.  His tapestry had been woven.  And a community in Africa was one of the integral threads.

I left Sherry’s house that morning filled with joy.  To hear that story, moved my soul.  “Coincidence?” I always ask myself.   I think not.  Why?  Because I’ve heard way too many of these amazing stories for them to be coincidences.  

I know that I know that I know that God is real.  

I know it’s a mouthful.  

But I do.

A Better Plan...

If I told you I had chemo today from 8 til 2, and broke my tooth half way through on a pretzel stick, would you think I had a pretty bad day?  May I add that my bestfriend from grammar school who is a substitute teacher (and a cancer survivor of nearly 10 years!) was going to hang out with me during my treatment but couldn't.  Duty called.  She was told at 6 am that a classroom needed her.  I was bummed, but knew that we'd catch up again soon.  So knowing that she wasn't coming, I arrived early to get the one private room that has a DVD player so I could finally watch The Help.

But as soon as I sat down in the room, I was asked if I would allow a new patient to have that room for the day.  I'm kinda nice, so I said yes.

Well, things happen for a reason, right?

Because I wasn't tucked away by myself watching a movie, I noticed the discomfort on the new patient's face.  When I saw her husband step outside for a bit, I walked in and introduced myself.  I usually want to strike up a conversation with everyone around me there, but I often don't.  But this time I did.

I reassured this newly diagnosed breast cancer patient that cancer isn't always what it's cracked up to be.  Sometimes it's more doable than one may think.   

I wanted her to know that I've never thrown up following chemo and that my hair began growing back in just four months.  I told her she could buy great fake eyelashes at CVS for $4.  And I couldn't resist trying to make her laugh with my minipad/wig story.  Don't know if I've ever shared that one on my blog before, but it's a good one.   

A few hours later, her cousin came by to sit with her.  She is a breast/ovarian/bone cancer survivor.  Who better to support you through cancer than that lady!  Before long, they were laughing and I'm glad to say, she was now relaxed and comfortable for the duration of her first treatment.

A little bit later, another patient sat in the chair beside me.  

Fortunately or unfortunately, eavesdropping is very easy to do there because the chairs are so close together with few partitions.  You basically hear everything that's said to your neighbor.  As a result, I overheard that this woman's scan just revealed that her cancer had spread to her bone.  I heard that she was a little concerned about how she was going to get to daily radiation treatments, so I leaned over and told her that during my good weeks, I would be happy to take her.  I handed her my card.  Some of you may know that my cards feature my life's motto, "can't do cancer without God."  I saw that she studied the card and said nothing.  She thanked me for my offer and placed the card in her purse.

We then talked about food for two hours.  Raw foods.  Vegan diets.  Wheatgrass.  Just stuff.  She told me that her doctor misread her mammogram, telling her she was fine, only to find out one year later when she had her next mammogram that she wasn't.  She now had advanced breast cancer.

Do you know how beautiful it was to look into her green eyes and listen to this woman say how lucky she felt.   She said, "I'll tell you this because you have cancer.  You'll get this.  I'm actually grateful for this cancer because it has brought me closer to God.  I was very busy when I worked, and led a very stressful life as a result of my job.  And I kind of got away from God.  And this was a great wake-up call for me."  She agreed that cancer offers many silver linings.

My eyes were beginning to fill with those dang tears of mine.  Not because it was sad and I felt sorry for her.  But because when you face something like cancer, you get what's important in life.  And that's a gift.  A gift like no other.  And I was so glad she got it -- the meaning,  not the cancer!

I handed her a pink "can't do cancer without God" necklace from around my neck.  She studied it for a long time and then said she noticed that that phrase was also on my business card.   She then asked me what church I went to.  I told her it was basically behind us and across the street.  I told her that when we find a Sunday when we both feel well, I'd be happy to pick her up and take her.  

She said she'd be happy to go.  
And put the necklace around her neck.

Right before she left, I told her that I was so glad my friend couldn't make it this afternoon.  Because if she had, I would have been off in conversation with her and would have missed this lovely connection with my new friend.

I love when God surprises me.  

I love that my plans fall through.  
And His plans flourish.

The Answer is...

Does Valentine's Day come in January?  

I didn't think so, but it sure feels like it.

As I think I shared on my last post, my body has responded to the last four treatments with fevers and aches.  Aches like I've been run over by a car and then backed over by a big rig.  

Over the weekend, my sister asked me, "How are you getting through this?"

Well, I'll tell ya.  

It's just one simple word.  

Love.

Love comes in many different forms.   

Over the weekend, the doorbell rang.  I brought my make-up less, smelly-haired, mismatched-pajama-clad body to the door to find a friend holding a bouquet of flowers. 

 "I saw these and I thought of you," she said. 

After I hugged her, I saw two more gifts that had been left on my porch.  Someone we know (who?!) must have been to the farmer's market that morning.  A bag of fresh strawberries were waiting to be eaten.  


On the other side of the porch sat another gift.  A little stuffed animal that can be frozen and draped around my neck when that lovely fever chooses to strike.  (Tucker has been eyeing it big time.  I know he wishes this one was for him.)

Love is also:

 "I'm at Costco.  What do you need?"

"Can I take Rachel on Saturday for a few hours so you can rest?"

 "Can I help?  Do you need me?"

"Let me take you to the doctor."
"I'm standing on Psalm 91:14-16 for you."
(By the way, look it up.  It's a good one.)

"Can I hang out with you at chemo tomorrow?"

"Can Jake have dinner with us tonight?"

"I'm praying for you."

I mean, I don't have time to write them all down!

But this is the thing.  This is what gets me.  
That you guys look beyond yourself and think of someone else.  


That just might be my favorite quality in a human being.  


Because I remember how busy my days were pre-cancer.  I had lots of stuff to do on my to-do list.  So I know it's a big deal to put a detour in your day to bless someone else.  It is a big thing.  Just to take the time to write an email and say, "I hope you have a good day today" -- is a big deal.  Because I know our days, even our months, can easily slip away from us before thinking of someone else.  

So all of this to say -- shower me with more gifts!  No, I'm so kidding!  
It's to say, when I receive a gift, a thoughtful email or an offer of help, I see Jesus in all of you.  And it brings me to tears.  Often.


We all know Jesus is synonymous with love.  And I see love in 
each and every one of you 
during this challenging season in my life.

So when my sister asks, "How are you getting through this?"  
I'll be more specific.

With Jesus' love.  His actual love and the love from all of you.  

(And a ton of Advil.)  

Your love will never be forgotten.  
Keep giving it away.  
You have no idea what a gift it is to somene who needs it.

There's Only Two Choices..

Happy belated New Year to you!

I've had so many posts I've wanted to write since my last one, but somehow my words haven't made it onto my computer.  

I'll give you the Reader's Digest version (aka short and sweet) of my last few weeks.  My last two treatments (numbers 3 and 4) have come with a nice little kicker - infection, high fever, unbelievable aches, ER visits and a hospitalization.  Fun, huh?  Those things better not follow me into the New Year.  Three days following chemo, the flu-like symptoms start to rear their ugly head.  I'll spare you the medical hypothesis as to why my doctors think it's happening.  Apparently, it just happens to some of us lucky ones.  And my next treatment is tomorrow.  Yay.  Can't wait.

So I was originally told that I would need 12 treatments.  Tomorrow is number 5.  But I was also told that if by number 6 my numbers are low enough (I need my tumor marker in the single digits), that chemo would end.  My CA125 number at the onset of this recurrence was in the 500s.  After just 3 treatments, it's down to 65.  (That news was my early Christmas present).  So if you would like to pray for me, my prayer is that it's God's will for chemo to wrap up in the next couple of weeks and that I won't have to endure another 7 more of these fun little episodes.

But let me briefly tell you about my week's stay at the hospital.  My first two days were the sickest I've ever been.  Hands down.  Bar none.  You got it.  I felt like a piece of uncooked bacon that had to stand up and walk to the bathroom.  I just couldn't do it.    I remember laying in bed with my eyes closed, too weak to open them, and hearing Ed, my parents and my sister's muffled conversations.  I also remember singing "Praise the Lord, Oh My Soul" (a song I learned 20 years ago, and I only know bits of it) over and over and over again.  For two days.  It brought this piece of uncooked bacon so much peace.

Two days later, once the antibiotics kicked in, I was a new girl.  I went from 0 to 100 and was so grateful.  So grateful, in fact, that I couldn't sleep for two nights.  I was so amped up that I felt so good, that I couldn't settle myself down.   That's what good health will do to a sick person - create insomnia!  And during that time, I met a nurse who I just fell in love with.  We shared our faith with each other every time she walked in my room, I gave her a copy of Jesus Calling and I loaded her down with can't do cancer without God necklaces.  I hope they make their way around every single room on that oncology floor at Los Robles Hospital via my new friend/the Lord's ambassador.

So that's the update on me.  And while I was laying around these last couple of weeks, I wondered what my New Year's message would be to all of you when I got the inspiration to finally blog again.   And I think it's what I told my son as we were talking before bedtime one night.  "When times get tough, you can either run to God or away from God.  That's it.  Those are the only two choices.  And if you pick the first one, your life will be immeasurably better than if you pick the last one."

So maybe if something hits you hard this year 
(or if it continues to follow you into the New Year), 
you can find a quiet place and say, 


"Lord, I give this to you.  I can't do it by myself.  I lay this at your feet and in your capable hands.  I love you and I trust you."


  And mean it.  He will help you make the decisions you need to make, help you to offer the forgiveness you need to give,  help you to face an illness with peace and strength (I can vouch for this one!  Heck, I can vouch for them all!)  

 I recently added a new song to my ipod.  One of my favorites.   It's "Bring the Rain" by MercyMe Bring the Rain.  The lyrics just melt me.  I hope they melt you too.  


Here's to a New Year filled with good health, joy and a heart  that brings you a little closer to God than you ever have been before!