My Dwelling Place

I checked into one of the local Naval bachelor quarters, upon pre-arrangements with Kent. This would be our stationing point while we searched for a home. My mom stayed with me and we went after the hunt earnestly. This wasn't the first time we had gone on the hunt. She had accompanied me to Colorado, and earlier in the year when I thought I would return home while Kent deployed. And before I entered the hospital she had gone out with me, yet again, in search of a safe place to call home.

So here we were again. Same needs, though more pressing. I needed to find a home sooner rather than later, as I had five to six hours of therapies to incorporate. I couldn't do but a few from the temporary lodging. My first great challenge: accepting the limitations, trusting and praying earnestly for God's direction and provision. It was hard, with much work. Finding a suitable home was more daunting than ever.

We plodded through, and waded through, ads, phone calls, drive bys, viewings. A sweet friend on the East coast diligently and prayerfully searched, thoroughly screened and sent me leads. Only one or two appeared as strong contenders, though not ideal. I let them go for lack of peace. And soon we realized that Kent would have to leave our things in storage and return to San Diego to begin his new job, still living in the lodge. And Mom would need to return home, without the gratification of seeing me placed, after all our efforts. The weeks went by and our need intensified.

And yet.

The Lord has been our dwelling place in every generation. (Psalms 90:1) I was reminded over and over again to DWELL in the secret place of God, abiding under His shadow. (Psalm 91) I was earnestly and actively practicing this through prayer and meditation. It was not just words of the Good Book. It was my life, and He my God. I travailed and struggled to keep my soul and spirit just there, to be at peace, resting securely, undisturbed, while I did the work of finding a suitable home and following my daily cancer treatment protocols.

Day of My Deliverance

During this intense period there was a word of great comfort sent to me by my brother, a reminder that my deliverance had been decreed. Jon Bloom writes on his blog entry at www.desiringgod.org of October 14, 2011, that God's compassion is purposeful. It reminded me of an encouragement I received from a friend and elder, to remember that "God is not so much interested in us tracing the roots of such events, but rather pursuing the good purpose for which our sovereign God has intended them."

So Jon Bloom in describing the healing of the woman with the infirmity of 18 years writes, "Jesus’ compassion and this woman’s pain also had had a far-reaching purpose. If you, like this woman, discovered that your seemingly meaningless affliction turned out to be infused with meaning beyond what you imagined possible and resulted in joy inexpressible and filled with glory (1 Peter 1:8) for you and a multitude of others, would it be worth it? Sit down and catch your breath. It is. It’s promised to you (2 Corinthians 4:17)."

Is this not what I most longed for? I had known in every moment that this affliction was not meaningless, but rather filled with glory for myself and others. How would God do that? And yes, oh yes, how I yearned to taste of that inexpressible joy of which I presently only hoped for in my groanings and staggerings.

Whether the staggering was from the multitude of burdens I placed upon myself, or whether from the heavy hand of God upon me, or both, I looked with the eyes of my heart upon the path on which I labored to follow close to Jesus. But it was hard going and I realized that I was cumbered along the way and nearly strangling from the weights of my own struggle and sin. I immediately realized this and cut myself free, dropping all the baggage and handing Jesus my necessary pack of burdens which He gladly carried. At times I could see Him and hear Him spiriting me on, infusing me with confidence, reaching out to lift me up when I scrambled up a steep incline, ever intent on leading me to the higher ground. And then I'd find myself again having gathered burdens to myself, bound around my neck, yet more swiftly now, I dropped them and immediately looked up and continued to move toward Him. His voice, his presence, keeping me on the journey, following after Him. Sometimes wearily, sometimes heartily, always persistently.

As my time at the hospital came to a close, and I realized that my cancer treatment must continue for some time, I again looked up and forward to the glad consolation of God's approaching deliverance and fulfillment of His word, the manifestation of His glory and exaltation of my spirit in joy, along with all His saints.

Kent had to leave me at the hospital to return to Colorado to prepare for the move. In a peaceful anguish, after a good word of hope and encouragement from the hospital chaplain, he left me in the care of God and others. My mother hastily joined me there for the last few days as I prepared to make yet another transition. My heart and mind were overwhelmed within me, my body both weary and improved. Holding on to faith. Trusting beyond my understanding.

My deliverance is coming...

Bloom concluded his thoughts with this: "Today you may say with Job, “my complaint is bitter; my hand is heavy on account of my groaning” (Job 23:2). You may say with Moses, “Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants. . . Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil” (Psalm 90:13-15).

But you need to know that, like this disabled woman, the patient, purposeful, powerful compassion of God in Christ for you is approaching like a relentless torrent. The day of your deliverance is decreed. It will come with a sudden joy. Every adversary will be shamed. Every tear will be wiped away. And the days he will make you glad will drown the days you have seen evil into glorious and happy oblivion (Romans 8:18)."

So Many Things

Arriving at the in-patient facility on a bright, sunny day I was filled with hope and trepidation. With a yielded spirit, I entered the world of cancer treatment, thankful to have Kent near to me as, together, we faced so many unknowns. For fourteen days, I would be immersed in new things, so many things, that even still, as I recall this experience, it is hard to describe this most overwhelming experience, for all the layers of complexity, challenge and blessing it provided to my body, mind and spirit.

So much hinged on the outcome of this period of intense treatment. I was investing every bit of faith, hope and strength. While I kept myself anchored to the hope that is mine eternally in God through Jesus Christ, I was also hopeful that He would use this medical intervention to achieve the purpose of healing.  I wanted to will and to pray that I could walk out of this hospital cancer free. I was yearning to  see God at work, accomplishing His purposes in my life, and hoping that it would be to relieve me clearly and shortly from my distress. But in whatever was ordained, I wanted to keep myself cast upon the breast of Him who loves me more than I can ever comprehend and to remember to look for Him in everything.

And so it began with diagnostics, medical records review and establishment of individual protocols. Due to the over-reactivity of my immune system, the doctors chose the most gentle yet effective treatment options. It began with early mornings but included meal breaks, physician lectures and a few late afternoon opportunities to walk along the ocean boardwalk with Kent, followed by more treatments that would end late in the evenings.

The compassionate nurses and doctors were a blessing, yet navigating the treatment process required diligence. There were difficulties of various kinds, characteristic of a treatment facility such as this. The lengthy schedule, along with the enormity and complexity of the experience, left me bone tired with not much time to think, read, or study, and certainly no time for my intended crochet project. Kent helped me to navigate this, granting me protection and perspective while he listened to me and helped me process all that was happening to me, in me and around me. My prayers were raw, honest, focused, tired.

I was in constant engagement with my fellow patients. We were all having our own deeply isolating experience, battling our own fight, yet sharing in common our human need for a healing touch, for understanding. We ate many of our meals in the common area and I found myself surrounded by palpable suffering and hope. I see them now, in my heart of memory, and my spirit wells up within me with springs of love, sadness, and compassion. During those meals, and in between treatments, we not only shared our own stories, but made inquiries, offered support and empathy, shared information and resources. Some were incredibly generous in spirit, all were courageous, and some perhaps desperate, others angry and bitter, others too weak, too ill. My heart was overwhelmed and I prayed for my new friends, offering encouragement in return for such kindness and inspiration.

The experience also provided opportunity for me to bond with one of the precious nurses. I called them all my ministering angels of mercy. There were so many things: so many words, thoughts, actions, feelings, spiritual words and struggles. During this time, how thankful I am that I was prayed for by so many of you.

It wasn't much like anything I had expected, and yet so much more suitable for the purposes God was working out in my life. I gained new eyes, new insights, which moved me along the way with Him. With all the words of God, the love, the holy and good intention, all the spiritual work running my heart and mind to rivers of truth and healing, I was reminded, firmly and graciously, to lay aside the weight and sins that so easily beset me and run this course with endurance, looking unto Jesus (Hebrews 12:1).

My looking to Jesus continued to revive me and keep me trudging forward on the path, through so many scrub and rocks.

To be continued...

What Blessings Await

As the grace rushed in, it unloosed and washed away the debris of diseased thoughts and beliefs. I prayed that God would be pleased to let me be that open channel through which He could pour out His abundance. Oh, the work and labor required to keep myself free from the sludge of law! Mount Zion was my green and fertile hope, so I charged myself to never tread the wayward trails leading back to the terrifying, consuming smoke and choking dust of despairing Mount Sinai.

In loving awe I looked to God and offered up my prayer of surrender and trust. Most strongly, He impressed upon me the loving intention of His discipline. I understood it plainly. I could choose to be exercised by this affliction unto sweet holiness or I could descend into bitterness and more gracelessness. There was no turning back in that sweet tide of love and grace, and so rejoicing in His love and His word, I worked to uncover every root of bitter despair, selfish preservation and cruel condemnation.

He touched me gently with a moment of strength, as I found myself embracing two of my lifetime spiritual mentors on a special Sunday morning of worship.  And following that time, I was humbled by the collective prayers of God's people as they lifted up my needs with urgent and confident faith.

As my time at the institute came to a close, I found myself fortified for what came next. And as I said good-bye to new friends, I pondered a very strong impression from God that He will not share His glory with another. I knew that whatever He did in my life it must always reflect His doings and not my own. My healing was from Him and not from a protocol, a positive energy and intention, nor from a new technology or even the most skilled mind and hands of a physician.

All the goodness of my life, all the sweetness, was from Him alone and all His deliverances eternally declare His faithfulness to Himself. I in no way wanted to take any glory for myself, nor hide His bright and pure light of life. My prayers began to focus on removing the dimness of my views of His thoughts and His ways, to see Him in everything. Hannah W. Smith writes, "Nothing else but this -seeing God in everything- will make us loving and patient... Nothing else will completely put an end to the murmuring and rebellious thoughts."

As His ways were revealed, He laid open a way for Kent to be assigned to work with the Navy in San Diego so we could be near the medical supports we had chosen. No small miracle! And so in all of this, I was yet the resilient Army wife, transitioning to yet another assignment. And this one, how perplexing.

Trusting and holding to Him, I prayerfully reached forward- for what blessings await!

To be continued...

Floodgates Burst Open

With nowhere to call home, and with the whirlwind of my circumstances spinning me dizzy, I entered the health institute just wanting to steady myself, to withdraw, to rest and process what was happening to me- to get my bearings. I was glad that I would have nourishing food prepared for me, that I would have opportunity to revive my spirit and my body.

What I wasn't expecting were the interactions with others. Classes, meals and time on the grounds all involved engagement. I hung back, kept to myself, until I realized what a gift it was to learn the stories of others, to find out what brought them to this place of rejuvenation.

Creative breakthroughs, overcoming addictions, managing chronic disease, making life-altering decisions, grieving, transitioning, winning the battle against cancer and other health "opportunities". I couldn't help but be captivated by their indomitable, courageous and curious spirits, AND their generosity. Their kindness towards me helped me to share my "opportunity" and as the week went on I found that I had made new friends.

And that was only a small thing in comparison to the big things God revealed to me. I was so overwhelmed with joy and relief when He gave me a strong word. A word I had been desperate for Him to speak. I needed to know what I was supposed to do with this... thing. This trial. This unwelcome affliction and all the small calamities surrounding it.

I didn't have to wait long. From the first session, I knew that my healing had begun. And what I would experience would free me from surprising strongholds and open my eyes to new ways of seeing myself, others and God Himself. As Job said, "I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but I will proceed no further." Job 40:4b-5

When the body is cleansing, the mind and the spirit begin to release up the stores of burdens held there. It can be a frightening experience, and yet I was ready to address those unnamed things which were keeping me from a deeper healing and a truly abundant life.

God impressed upon me several things within the first week: That it was time for something new; that in the middle of a less than ideal environment, and even in spite of it, that my healing was forthcoming; and more importantly, a certainty in my heart that there was still work to be done in fulfilling my purpose-that what was happening to me was a shaking that would see grace blossom unto healing and on to the glory of God.

God led me to Hebrews 12, and while painful, He held me fast as I dwelt upon those high thoughts of His love and kingdom purposes in my cowardly life. In my journal I wrote: "All my sense of grounding, all of my foundations have been shaken and thrown down. Truly my rock is Jesus Himself alone, and yet I still try to secure myself in all the shaking to the weak mooring of my own reason and understanding. As if I can think or problem solve my way out of this. These are but my last vain attempts..."

As I searched my heart, prayed, cleansed, engaged I discovered how deeply I had unknowingly hurt myself with years of driving, relentless, demanding, exacting and critical thoughts and beliefs. These could only have come from staking myself on the mount of Sinai, for had I climbed up to mount Zion I would have been prevented from such misery and been secured to joy. My spirit of self-rejection and unforgiveness had subconsciously exacted a devastating price upon my life. I had walled up myself from grace. Through precious truth and raw prayers, renewed thoughts led me to love and forgive that sweet Amanda whom I so long despised by my miserly withdrawal from God's sweet flowing grace.  Oh what grief, what relief, what floods of grace!

One day as I walked by the chapel and library, I stopped in to see what I might find. And so I found the gem of The Practice of God by brother Lawrence. As I read his words, my heart began to burn and I rejoiced exceedingly, and trembled too:

"God has infinite treasures to give us, he says. Why should we be satisfied with a brief moment of worship? With such meager devotion, we restrain the flow of God's abundant grace. If God can find a soul filled with a lively faith, He pours His grace into it in a torrent that, having found an open channel, gushes out exuberantly.

We often stop this torrent by our lack of respect for it. However, we mustn't restrain it any longer. Let us go into our hearts, dear friend, breaking down the dike, making way for grace, and making up for lost time! You and I are getting along in years. We may have little time left to live. Death is always near, so be prepared, for we only die once.

Once again, let us examine our inner selves. Time is pressing down on us, and each of us must be responsible for himself. I believe you have prepared yourself properly, so you won't be taken by surprise. I respect you for this; it is, after all, our business to be as open as possible to God's grace...

I have taken the liberty, my dear friend, of telling you all this so you might reexamine your own relationship with God. If by some means (I pray it not so) it has cooled even slightly, perhaps our brother's attitude will rekindle and inflame it. Do you remember our first enthusiasm and love for God? We could both recall it well by this brother's example. he isn't well known, in worldly terms, but with God he is tenderly loved and caressed. Let us pray earnestly for one another to receive the grace for ourselves."

With time pressing down, I no longer desired to restrain the glad torrent. The floodgates burst as I made way for His grace.

To be continued...

Staying Power

With the support of kind and generous new friends, I settled into their bed and breakfast in San Diego, while Kent returned to Colorado. Having prayed, discussed every option and possibility available to us, we said good-bye. And while Kent waited and worked things out in the Springs, I rested and wrestled with the final treatment decision.

Such a complex disease as cancer can lead to overwhelming fears and doubts, as well as the highest hopes and expectations for healing. Decisions about cancer treatment are excruciating, as are the choices of how to live life with this new intruding consideration. There are no simple answers, no simple remedies. I agonize with great respect and empathy for all who must make these kinds of choices.

We realized that I had to make a decision based on what I'd been able to gather in those two weeks. There would always be new research and my knowledge would still be incomplete, but we had enough information to make a fully informed decision. We would always be inadequate for this, but God, always adequate.  And so this decision was made to the best of our ability IN FAITH, completely dependent upon God.

Within two weeks, and over two thousand miles of travel, after consulting ten health practitioners and specialists from a broad spectrum of disciplines, after several dozen books and lectures, and hours of researching reputable online resources, our choices were settled. And my loving mother reminded me of the consolations of Isaiah 26:3 "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."

Then came the waiting... which turned into a blessed time of preparation. I thought I'd be able to check in immediately for the in-patient treatment program, but found I would be delayed for two weeks. Not without a bit of distress and urgency, I went immediately to my transition plan. Having no place to call home, I checked myself in for two weeks at a reputable Christian health institute to cleanse and nourish my body, mind and spirit. I needed a place of respite to strengthen myself for all that lie ahead, and there could be no better solution. What a gift, as I would soon discover...

To be continued...

New Realities

It's one thing to singularly approach this disease in a clinical and intellectual way, set in an office, a lab, a medical examining room. I can walk out of there and life can appear normal. I can blend in. No one knows the disease at work inside my face, inside my head. I don't feel sorry for myself right now. But oh, the pain of knowing that my loving God has chosen to afflict me in this staggering way. I hold ever before me the knowledge that He sets all the boundaries of my suffering and yet, I really haven't accepted this.

We attend a lecture given by the physician we have chosen for consideration. The room is full of cancer patients undergoing treatment. As I listen to the discussion, engaging with the others, all I can do is respond according to my nature, and as a holistic health practitioner.  I have a hard time seeing myself as a fellow patient. Shouldn't I be there to help them? I wrestle both with pride and compassion.

We share lunch with some of these courageous people. Hearing their stories, and being asked to share mine, sharpen my focus and confirm the reality of my condition. I'm inspired and saddened by the journeys of these folks. I admire their perseverance, their persistence, their resolve. They feel the same about me. But I haven't been down this road so far as they, their suffering incomparable.

My heart is both distressed and heartened. There is both the spirit of faith and the swirling airs of death. Some of these folks are fighting valiantly, some to the tragic end. Others bitterly endure for their loved ones. I want to know other stories, like the ones I'd heard just weeks before about brighter, happier lives. Cancer free. This hospital is an incubator of hope, with intense healing work for the suffering. Everyone looking for what comes after.

I want to be a part of this kind and healing place. But not as a cancer patient. Nor as a cancer survivor. I will not call myself that when I heal. Do I say I'm a flu survivor? A malaria survivor? I'm treating this disease with all the deadly respect it deserves, and treating my body with the loving respect it deserves. I will give my body every advantage and opportunity to strengthen and fight it out. Entrusting my soul to its Creator, I take my next bold steps up from the treacherous valley floor. I look around and see everything around me that would throw me down jagged, bone-breaking rock faces and sheer cliffs. Every story, every statistic, every fear magnified by the Accuser, every twist and truth. And oh, the doubts and uncertainty.

Yet I know His gaze upon me and the offering of His hand, that in this moment just as Jesus has said to me many times before, as He did to Peter: "What is that to you? Follow me." And so I do.

To be continued...