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...
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
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...
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...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
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.
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...
To be continued...
Sunday, January 22, 2012
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...
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...
Friday, January 13, 2012
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...
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...
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Mercy in the Medicine
And as we made our way up the coast of California, God blessed us with moments of spectacular beauty, glimmering joy and opportunities to worship Him. Fighting for faith in my own forlorn landscape of fear and despair, I could only cast my hope in Christ, trusting that my soul would survive the fury of the dashing waves of affliction.
The closer we got to Portland, the more certain we became that the Northwest would not become our place of healing. There had been a possibility for Kent to take an assignment in Salem, but we knew that wasn't right in a matter of moments. Some things come easier than others. We were grateful we could remove even one consideration from the list.
Fires burned and agricultural activities spread a dirty cloud that reached my spirit, agitating my doubts and stirring up unbelief. Not a happy place to be. It was all I could do to walk into the surgeon's office on that bright September afternoon.
I looked around at the disfigured, scarred people who were so marked by disease and could barely take my eyes off the carpeting. I did not want to see such frightful suffering. I wrestled with anger too, as I saw a young smoker with a fresh surgical wound, continuing still his deadly habit. And yet here I was, numbered among them. Severe mercy.
Nausea and fear, as well as resolve, were welling up. It was all I could do not to run out of the room, back down the highway, back to the beach far from these horrors. Then came the assurances that we were making the right decisions, seeing the right people, investigating all our options properly and thoroughly.
Again, this oral surgeon recommended a modified neck dissection, with the possibility of radiation to ensure remission. However, he was willing to remove just the tongue tumor if I insisted upon that. So we left there leaving the doors open to surgery if needed. We had decisions to make.
We had hoped to take a few days to rest in Bend, Oregon, and to spend time with my youngest brother and his family. But the fires were fierce along the route we would take and so instead, we routed ourselves down the Oregon and California coasts for more spectacular beauty... and fears.
Now to condense and synthesize all the information and research. Now to continue the press for a new military assignment, and yet to where? We were facing treatment decisions, locations, healing/recovery time, safe housing, and financing the whole endeavor. So many concerns, so many possibilities. So many hopes. And for a time, scant admonishment and comfort, as I cast about for the good Lord's help to my anguishing questions and unanswered cries.
We decided to again visit a doctor in Santa Barbara, before determining that we needed to return to San Diego to make our final decisions. Kent needed to get back to Colorado so we could prepare for a new assignment. How grateful we were for the time that had been provided for Kent to be with me while we processed all of this together. Even though I was prepared to do all these things alone, while he deployed, how grateful I was for the blessing of his loving presence and help.
He reminded me that in this confusing mess of pain and uncertainty we must still obey the truth of Ephesians, that we must be thankful and that whatever we do and say, all be done in the name of Jesus. That in every test, every thought, every task, we give thanks to God through our interposing, compassionate Christ. Oh, what bitter medicine must be applied to wretch up bitterness and cleanse my cloudy soul! Was there no other remedy than this? How simple, how excruciating, how critical, how fortifying. And oh, how wearying...
To be continued...
The closer we got to Portland, the more certain we became that the Northwest would not become our place of healing. There had been a possibility for Kent to take an assignment in Salem, but we knew that wasn't right in a matter of moments. Some things come easier than others. We were grateful we could remove even one consideration from the list.
Fires burned and agricultural activities spread a dirty cloud that reached my spirit, agitating my doubts and stirring up unbelief. Not a happy place to be. It was all I could do to walk into the surgeon's office on that bright September afternoon.
I looked around at the disfigured, scarred people who were so marked by disease and could barely take my eyes off the carpeting. I did not want to see such frightful suffering. I wrestled with anger too, as I saw a young smoker with a fresh surgical wound, continuing still his deadly habit. And yet here I was, numbered among them. Severe mercy.
Nausea and fear, as well as resolve, were welling up. It was all I could do not to run out of the room, back down the highway, back to the beach far from these horrors. Then came the assurances that we were making the right decisions, seeing the right people, investigating all our options properly and thoroughly.
Again, this oral surgeon recommended a modified neck dissection, with the possibility of radiation to ensure remission. However, he was willing to remove just the tongue tumor if I insisted upon that. So we left there leaving the doors open to surgery if needed. We had decisions to make.
We had hoped to take a few days to rest in Bend, Oregon, and to spend time with my youngest brother and his family. But the fires were fierce along the route we would take and so instead, we routed ourselves down the Oregon and California coasts for more spectacular beauty... and fears.
Now to condense and synthesize all the information and research. Now to continue the press for a new military assignment, and yet to where? We were facing treatment decisions, locations, healing/recovery time, safe housing, and financing the whole endeavor. So many concerns, so many possibilities. So many hopes. And for a time, scant admonishment and comfort, as I cast about for the good Lord's help to my anguishing questions and unanswered cries.
We decided to again visit a doctor in Santa Barbara, before determining that we needed to return to San Diego to make our final decisions. Kent needed to get back to Colorado so we could prepare for a new assignment. How grateful we were for the time that had been provided for Kent to be with me while we processed all of this together. Even though I was prepared to do all these things alone, while he deployed, how grateful I was for the blessing of his loving presence and help.
He reminded me that in this confusing mess of pain and uncertainty we must still obey the truth of Ephesians, that we must be thankful and that whatever we do and say, all be done in the name of Jesus. That in every test, every thought, every task, we give thanks to God through our interposing, compassionate Christ. Oh, what bitter medicine must be applied to wretch up bitterness and cleanse my cloudy soul! Was there no other remedy than this? How simple, how excruciating, how critical, how fortifying. And oh, how wearying...
To be continued...
Saturday, October 8, 2011
A Little While
In those first few early days, one of the strongest encouragements came from the Lord in the affirmation and prayers of a sweet friend who reminded me of a powerful promise, that unbeknownst to her, had been a word the Lord had spoken to me in the midst of my "Roman" health crises some three years ago. A promise I was still clinging to with great expectation. 1 Peter 5:10 declares, "And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."
A little while. I knew that could mean a season of testing, or it could mean the rest of my brief, temporal life. But certainly, my confidence could rest on my glorious Christ who would HIMSELF restore me, confirm me, strengthen me and establish me. Rock solid.
As we drove away from Colorado the miles blurred into one another as we talked and prayed and weighed all our options. I was holding a loose plan in place, anticipating changes and redirection at every step. And that very first visit with my former health care providers left me with more questions than answers, confirming that I needed to move on to the next practitioner on my list.
Of course, there were many confirmations in our discussions with a variety of practitioners. We needed to establish the extent of the cancer and determine the best ways to measure treatment progress. And nearly all were suggesting that I needed to examine my life and recall those things I wished I'd never said and those things I should have said. Perhaps I had bit my tongue, or that perhaps I had a toxic tongue. How can anyone bear the burden of that? How I searched my heart, confessed my sins and pleaded the blood of Jesus against the accuser and embraced His healing grace. I knew that as James said, the man who can tame the tongue is perfect.
I was also strongly encouraged to act quickly to make a decision. The surgeon thought I should act within six weeks, and we had decided to give ourselves two weeks to finalize our decision. And so we continued our pursuit as God providentially provided opportunity for me to attend a cancer convention in Hollywood. While at the conference Kent and I were able to consult with a very thoughtful, Christian doctor who gave us good information and words of wisdom. I gathered several valuable resources, consulted with another doctor, had a phone consult with another clinic, and left Hollywood armed with more resources... and refreshed by the great raw food restaurant we discovered just a mile from the convention center. Nourishment and sustenance.
The uncertainty of the extent of my cancer would lead me to fear and I wrestled to lean upon God and to trust in His love. My pain of heart, my faith so small. And yet.
There was a spark of joy that led me to hope in God, to a confidence and excitement that the glory of God was being displayed in our lives. He was preparing to demonstrate His power in my life in ways I could not anticipate.
Oh, for the courage to believe and to hold tight!
To be continued...
A little while. I knew that could mean a season of testing, or it could mean the rest of my brief, temporal life. But certainly, my confidence could rest on my glorious Christ who would HIMSELF restore me, confirm me, strengthen me and establish me. Rock solid.
As we drove away from Colorado the miles blurred into one another as we talked and prayed and weighed all our options. I was holding a loose plan in place, anticipating changes and redirection at every step. And that very first visit with my former health care providers left me with more questions than answers, confirming that I needed to move on to the next practitioner on my list.
Of course, there were many confirmations in our discussions with a variety of practitioners. We needed to establish the extent of the cancer and determine the best ways to measure treatment progress. And nearly all were suggesting that I needed to examine my life and recall those things I wished I'd never said and those things I should have said. Perhaps I had bit my tongue, or that perhaps I had a toxic tongue. How can anyone bear the burden of that? How I searched my heart, confessed my sins and pleaded the blood of Jesus against the accuser and embraced His healing grace. I knew that as James said, the man who can tame the tongue is perfect.
I was also strongly encouraged to act quickly to make a decision. The surgeon thought I should act within six weeks, and we had decided to give ourselves two weeks to finalize our decision. And so we continued our pursuit as God providentially provided opportunity for me to attend a cancer convention in Hollywood. While at the conference Kent and I were able to consult with a very thoughtful, Christian doctor who gave us good information and words of wisdom. I gathered several valuable resources, consulted with another doctor, had a phone consult with another clinic, and left Hollywood armed with more resources... and refreshed by the great raw food restaurant we discovered just a mile from the convention center. Nourishment and sustenance.
The uncertainty of the extent of my cancer would lead me to fear and I wrestled to lean upon God and to trust in His love. My pain of heart, my faith so small. And yet.
There was a spark of joy that led me to hope in God, to a confidence and excitement that the glory of God was being displayed in our lives. He was preparing to demonstrate His power in my life in ways I could not anticipate.
Oh, for the courage to believe and to hold tight!
To be continued...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)