1. Friends who cry for and with me.
2. Husband cleaning with the kids even though he is tired and needs to pack for a business trip.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Today's Gratitudes
1. Rolo candy
2. Fruit slice-shaped gumdrops
Husband, Huckle, and Sally gave me candy for my birthday, since the camera I got for Christmas costed two gift-giving holidays' worth of money.
Normally, I'd feel guilty about eating candy for breakfast, especially two days in a row. Double especially when breakfast is followed by a big slice of leftover birthday cake this morning (breakfast dessert, naturally!).
However, it's not like it's going to give me cancer or something.
But seriously, as someone who has always been health conscious (I even consider getting a cavity to be a horrible health crisis), it has been hard to continue to care about a healthy diet and exercise. It sometimes feels as if it didn't do me any good.
I know that's not logical, but it's my own little rebellion.
Friday, February 25, 2011
The Big 4-0
Today is my 40th birthday. Under most circumstances, this would be a big deal, a time to somberly reflect on my "youth" coming to an end and my smile and frown wrinkles becoming permanent facial fixtures.
HOWEVER...
1. There's nothing like cancer to make you grateful to be alive. Perhaps I'm not as grateful as I should be: I still struggle with feeling that my diagnosis is somehow unfair, as if I don't deserve it or something irrational like that. We Americals feel entitled to long, satisfactory lives! But then I take a step back and realize that I am blessed that my cancer was discovered early and that I have a good chance of leading a normal, healthy life after this ordeal.
2. Getting cancer at age 39 is a sure way to be told again and again how young you are! Doctors, nurses, friends, acquaintances, cancer survivors -- so many sigh and say, "But you are so young!"
But, really, cancer and its treatment feels like a crash course in aging. I mourn that my body is going to be losing parts and losing strength. I mourn that medications will put me prematurely into menopause. In my weakest moments, I feel as if a decade has been ripped from the middle of my life.
But, in my very weakest moments, I remember to meditate on Psalm 46 and again reach peace and a heaven-centered perspective.
1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7 The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
8 Come and see what the LORD has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
11 The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
HOWEVER...
1. There's nothing like cancer to make you grateful to be alive. Perhaps I'm not as grateful as I should be: I still struggle with feeling that my diagnosis is somehow unfair, as if I don't deserve it or something irrational like that. We Americals feel entitled to long, satisfactory lives! But then I take a step back and realize that I am blessed that my cancer was discovered early and that I have a good chance of leading a normal, healthy life after this ordeal.
2. Getting cancer at age 39 is a sure way to be told again and again how young you are! Doctors, nurses, friends, acquaintances, cancer survivors -- so many sigh and say, "But you are so young!"
But, really, cancer and its treatment feels like a crash course in aging. I mourn that my body is going to be losing parts and losing strength. I mourn that medications will put me prematurely into menopause. In my weakest moments, I feel as if a decade has been ripped from the middle of my life.
But, in my very weakest moments, I remember to meditate on Psalm 46 and again reach peace and a heaven-centered perspective.
1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7 The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
8 Come and see what the LORD has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
10 He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
11 The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Today's Gratitudes
Today, I am grateful that Husband does our taxes and other boring paperwork for our family. I'd rather do the dishes ANY DAY than deal with financial stuff.
We also re-enrolled Huckle and Sally for the 2011-2012 school year in the Christian school they attend. I am grateful that we can swing it financially, and I am grateful to have such an amazing school just minutes from our house. Our whole family has been blessed by The Wilberforce School.
We also re-enrolled Huckle and Sally for the 2011-2012 school year in the Christian school they attend. I am grateful that we can swing it financially, and I am grateful to have such an amazing school just minutes from our house. Our whole family has been blessed by The Wilberforce School.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Science and the Christian
I define myself as a Christian and as a scientist. Both are deeply ingrained in who I am and influence the way I look at the world.
One of the great dis-satisfactions of my life is the apparent contradiction between faith and science in most people's minds. This is most obvious in the evolution "debate".
The average scientist (and non-Christian of a scientific bent) is suspicious of faith. This is because faith, by definition, cannot be proven or reasoned: it is "confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). As a result, the message of salvation looks like foolishness (I Corinthians 1:18-25) to those who see reason as the only means of attaining knowledge.
Similarly, scientific inquiry, by definition, precludes the concept of faith: science is "systematic knowledge of the physical or material world gained through observation and experimentation."
Therefore, faith and science answer completely different sets of questions. Faith addresses what we cannot see/prove, and science what we can see/prove.
God's existence is outside the scientific realm: it cannot be proven or disproven through observation or experimentation. It must be accepted by faith. Hebrews 11:6 says, "And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him."
The danger of the creation/evolution debate -- the reason it is debated at all, much less debated with such strong emotions -- is that both sides think the answer to this debate will prove or disprove God's existence.
One side reasons: if the natural world can be proven to have come about through evolution, then God is unnecessary and therefore must not exist.
The other side reasons: if the 6-day creation can be proven, then God must exist.
However, I think both arguments are flawed. If evolution were proven fact (and it pretty much is), this would not in any way address the existence of God. God could still be "for whom and through whom everything exists" (Hebrews 2:10).
As a product of my alma mater Calvin College, I have been influenced on this subject by the teachings of present-day philosopher Alvin Plantinga. I came across a good quotation from Dr. Plantinga (on Wikipedia, of course!) which concisely shows his stance as a Christian on evolution. It is from a letter to the editor published on April 11, 2010, in the Chronicle of Higher Education:
As for the 6-day creation, the evidence supporting it is inconsequential compared to the stack of evidence for evolution, and I think God did this on purpose. Again, if His existence could be proven scientifically (by proving a 6-day creation), then what would be the value of faith? This would go against the teaching of the Bible that the only way to God is through faith.
Now, I have close friends who take the Genesis account of creation literally, and I respect them for it. This is a subject I do NOT discuss with church friends -- there is no need to proselytize on an issue that does not impact salvation. My only qualm is when Christians want and seek scientific evidence supporting a 6-day creation. As I mentioned, evidence from God's own world supports evolution -- genetics, molecular biology, comparative anatomy, anthropology, geology, astronomy. So the only argument for a 6-day creation that I could support is one that that does not rely on scientific evidence:
(1) when sin entered the world, the whole creation fell (Romans 8:22);
(2) as a result, the fallen world lies about its Creator.
(3) If the creation lies about it's Creator, then evolution could be false. The literal version of creation in the Bible is more reliable and must be accepted on faith rather than the world's evidence.
However, again, I do not think this is true. I think God purposely made scientific inquiry neutral, unable to prove or disprove His existence, since proving His existence scientifically would undermine faith.
Nevertheless, there is a growing movement among evangelical Christians to search for scientific evidence supporting the 6-day creation. Actually, in the absence of data supporting Creationism, proponents of this "intelligent design" movement essentially try to undermine evolution by proving that it could not have happened without the direct interference of a rational designer. They resurrect the 'God of the gaps' explanations of long ago: that anything we do not understand, such as great complexities in nature, must be evidence that God stepped in and zapped things into their current form. I reject that as naive and dangerous. If gaps are necessary to prove God's existence to you, then any advance in scientific knowledge is a threat to your belief in God. (No wonder you would be fearful of science!) Thinking these gaps prove God is merely setting yourself up for trouble (or delaying your unbelief) as science inevitably makes gains in our understanding of this beautifully complex world.
I believe that God certainly could zap that way but would not chose to do so at random moments in creation -- I believe that the natural laws He put into place to govern our world throughout its existence are beautiful and sufficient. He can oversee and guide without blatant interference, as if the world had hiccups and He needed to stand by and pound it on the back now and then. (I don't mean to imply that He doesn't ever zap -- those are miracles.)
Here is Dr. Plantinga's take on the matter, taken from the same source:
Nevertheless, I'm grateful to proponents of intelligent design for actually caring about and studying science! I am often appalled by how few Christians have taken the time to understand the theory of evolution and its supporting evidence. They shy away from science as if it were something tainted or less worthy of their consideration than other pursuits. They worry that it will undermine their belief in God. This, again, I think, goes back to the mistaken belief that evolution proves that God does not exist.
To me, Christians should love to consider and explore God's creation, the work of His hands. The more we explore, the more we can marvel and glorify our Creator God. The Bible makes it clear that God's world is irrefutable evidence of His power and divinity "so that men are without excuse" (Romans 1:20). The psalmist states that the heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19).
However, before being too hard on Christians for their ignorance of evolution, I have noticed that many practicing scientists take evolution for granted without themselves studying the evidence -- they are often as ignorant as the average creationist layman. They hold to the philosophies of naturalism and reductionism without ever having heard the terms or considered the feasibility of the alternatives. (The image below, a duck automaton built in 1739 by Jacques de Vaucanson, is an extreme illustration of reductionism: the duck as a product of its digestive parts) They also do not reject belief in God but are unwilling to discuss it -- they are as fearful of the subject as Christians often are of science.
I could go on and on about Christianity and evolution but will stop here for today. Another day I will set down my reflections about the Genesis account of creation and about Christian views of reductionism and naturalism.
Today's gratitude (unrelated to the above thoughts): Today's warmer weather reminds me of the promise of spring. No matter how cold and long winter seems, we can be absolutely assured that it will end in glorious spring. Like the sunrise, spring's inevitability is a beautiful illustration of hoping in the Lord -- He faithfully delivers on His promises. Hope in God is not wishful thinking but absolute certainty.
A link to Dr. Plantinga's letter to the editor
One of the great dis-satisfactions of my life is the apparent contradiction between faith and science in most people's minds. This is most obvious in the evolution "debate".
The average scientist (and non-Christian of a scientific bent) is suspicious of faith. This is because faith, by definition, cannot be proven or reasoned: it is "confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). As a result, the message of salvation looks like foolishness (I Corinthians 1:18-25) to those who see reason as the only means of attaining knowledge.
Similarly, scientific inquiry, by definition, precludes the concept of faith: science is "systematic knowledge of the physical or material world gained through observation and experimentation."
Therefore, faith and science answer completely different sets of questions. Faith addresses what we cannot see/prove, and science what we can see/prove.
God's existence is outside the scientific realm: it cannot be proven or disproven through observation or experimentation. It must be accepted by faith. Hebrews 11:6 says, "And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him."
The danger of the creation/evolution debate -- the reason it is debated at all, much less debated with such strong emotions -- is that both sides think the answer to this debate will prove or disprove God's existence.
One side reasons: if the natural world can be proven to have come about through evolution, then God is unnecessary and therefore must not exist.
The other side reasons: if the 6-day creation can be proven, then God must exist.
However, I think both arguments are flawed. If evolution were proven fact (and it pretty much is), this would not in any way address the existence of God. God could still be "for whom and through whom everything exists" (Hebrews 2:10).
As a product of my alma mater Calvin College, I have been influenced on this subject by the teachings of present-day philosopher Alvin Plantinga. I came across a good quotation from Dr. Plantinga (on Wikipedia, of course!) which concisely shows his stance as a Christian on evolution. It is from a letter to the editor published on April 11, 2010, in the Chronicle of Higher Education:
As far as I can see, God certainly could have used Darwinian processes to create the living world and direct it as he wanted to go; hence evolution as such does not imply that there is no direction in the history of life. What does have that implication is not evolutionary theory itself, but unguided evolution, the idea that neither God nor any other person has taken a hand in guiding, directing or orchestrating the course of evolution. But the scientific theory of evolution, sensibly enough, says nothing one way or the other about divine guidance. It doesn't say that evolution is divinely guided; it also doesn't say that it isn't. Like almost any theist, I reject unguided evolution; but the contemporary scientific theory of evolution just as such—apart from philosophical or theological add-ons—doesn't say that evolution is unguided. Like science in general, it makes no pronouncements on the existence or activity of God.
As for the 6-day creation, the evidence supporting it is inconsequential compared to the stack of evidence for evolution, and I think God did this on purpose. Again, if His existence could be proven scientifically (by proving a 6-day creation), then what would be the value of faith? This would go against the teaching of the Bible that the only way to God is through faith.
Now, I have close friends who take the Genesis account of creation literally, and I respect them for it. This is a subject I do NOT discuss with church friends -- there is no need to proselytize on an issue that does not impact salvation. My only qualm is when Christians want and seek scientific evidence supporting a 6-day creation. As I mentioned, evidence from God's own world supports evolution -- genetics, molecular biology, comparative anatomy, anthropology, geology, astronomy. So the only argument for a 6-day creation that I could support is one that that does not rely on scientific evidence:
(1) when sin entered the world, the whole creation fell (Romans 8:22);
(2) as a result, the fallen world lies about its Creator.
(3) If the creation lies about it's Creator, then evolution could be false. The literal version of creation in the Bible is more reliable and must be accepted on faith rather than the world's evidence.
However, again, I do not think this is true. I think God purposely made scientific inquiry neutral, unable to prove or disprove His existence, since proving His existence scientifically would undermine faith.
Nevertheless, there is a growing movement among evangelical Christians to search for scientific evidence supporting the 6-day creation. Actually, in the absence of data supporting Creationism, proponents of this "intelligent design" movement essentially try to undermine evolution by proving that it could not have happened without the direct interference of a rational designer. They resurrect the 'God of the gaps' explanations of long ago: that anything we do not understand, such as great complexities in nature, must be evidence that God stepped in and zapped things into their current form. I reject that as naive and dangerous. If gaps are necessary to prove God's existence to you, then any advance in scientific knowledge is a threat to your belief in God. (No wonder you would be fearful of science!) Thinking these gaps prove God is merely setting yourself up for trouble (or delaying your unbelief) as science inevitably makes gains in our understanding of this beautifully complex world.
I believe that God certainly could zap that way but would not chose to do so at random moments in creation -- I believe that the natural laws He put into place to govern our world throughout its existence are beautiful and sufficient. He can oversee and guide without blatant interference, as if the world had hiccups and He needed to stand by and pound it on the back now and then. (I don't mean to imply that He doesn't ever zap -- those are miracles.)
Here is Dr. Plantinga's take on the matter, taken from the same source:
Like any Christian (and indeed any theist), I believe that the world has been created by God, and hence "intelligently designed." The hallmark of intelligent design, however, is the claim that this can be shown scientifically; I'm dubious about that.
Nevertheless, I'm grateful to proponents of intelligent design for actually caring about and studying science! I am often appalled by how few Christians have taken the time to understand the theory of evolution and its supporting evidence. They shy away from science as if it were something tainted or less worthy of their consideration than other pursuits. They worry that it will undermine their belief in God. This, again, I think, goes back to the mistaken belief that evolution proves that God does not exist.
To me, Christians should love to consider and explore God's creation, the work of His hands. The more we explore, the more we can marvel and glorify our Creator God. The Bible makes it clear that God's world is irrefutable evidence of His power and divinity "so that men are without excuse" (Romans 1:20). The psalmist states that the heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19).
However, before being too hard on Christians for their ignorance of evolution, I have noticed that many practicing scientists take evolution for granted without themselves studying the evidence -- they are often as ignorant as the average creationist layman. They hold to the philosophies of naturalism and reductionism without ever having heard the terms or considered the feasibility of the alternatives. (The image below, a duck automaton built in 1739 by Jacques de Vaucanson, is an extreme illustration of reductionism: the duck as a product of its digestive parts) They also do not reject belief in God but are unwilling to discuss it -- they are as fearful of the subject as Christians often are of science.
I could go on and on about Christianity and evolution but will stop here for today. Another day I will set down my reflections about the Genesis account of creation and about Christian views of reductionism and naturalism.
Today's gratitude (unrelated to the above thoughts): Today's warmer weather reminds me of the promise of spring. No matter how cold and long winter seems, we can be absolutely assured that it will end in glorious spring. Like the sunrise, spring's inevitability is a beautiful illustration of hoping in the Lord -- He faithfully delivers on His promises. Hope in God is not wishful thinking but absolute certainty.
A link to Dr. Plantinga's letter to the editor
Monday, February 14, 2011
Today's Gratitudes
I spent the weekend at a church women's retreat. I'm grateful for time with lovely close friends and grateful for deep, honest friendships. There were also many women there that I did not know or only knew by name. What a pleasure to meet some of them. And, again, I'm humbled that so many of these women have been faithfully praying for me and, though I'm a stranger to them, have offered to help with childcare and meals. What an amazing church family!
It's Valentines Day, which also reminds me how grateful I am for Husband. February 14th is our half anniversary -- 17.5 years now. I am reminded of God's faithfulness and of all the lessons I have learned through marriage about His perfect love. And what a blessing for Husband and I to have married young and experienced our own and each other's emotional and spiritual growth over the years. We have grown up together in many ways.
It's Valentines Day, which also reminds me how grateful I am for Husband. February 14th is our half anniversary -- 17.5 years now. I am reminded of God's faithfulness and of all the lessons I have learned through marriage about His perfect love. And what a blessing for Husband and I to have married young and experienced our own and each other's emotional and spiritual growth over the years. We have grown up together in many ways.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Today's Gratitudes
The Psalms. These ancient poems express raw human emotion -- the whole range -- before God. From anger and frustration and fear, to joy and peace and gratitude. It's good to be reminded that God invites us to pour out our hearts to Him and that all these emotions are acceptable to Him. He desires this sort of honest dialog.
The Psalms often talk about enemies, praying for protection from enemies or the defeat of enemies. For many years, I skimmed over the enemy parts, thinking that I certainly don't have that problem. Besides, some of it sounds bloodthirsty and 'un-Christian', to desire the bloody defeat of your foes. But I've learned as an adult that enemies do not need to be people who hate you or who follow you around trying to kill you. Anxiety and shame can be enemies, as can any other internal battle that impedes your faith. I think of those who struggle with addiction.
My mom reminds me that 'cancer' can be an enemy too. As she sat through chemotherapy, she meditated on the Psalms with that in mind.
Psalm 41 particularly struck me today.
In this Psalm, the enemies can so easily be visualized as cancer. I imagine the enemy (cancer) standing beside the sickbed, just waiting for the author to die. The image of the enemy spreading lies "he goes out and spreads it abroad" -- how malignant!
For me, the "close friend" who betrays the speaker represents my body -- something I've trusted and been (literally) attached to me entire life (can't get much closer than this "friend"!). The friend is described as "sharing my bread" and "lifting up his heel against me" -- interesting that the author uses the body-related imagery of eating and the foot. My body, close and trusted friend that it has been over the course of my healthy life, has betrayed me to my enemies. That my physical body cannot be relied upon for support is a shocking lesson but also a lesson valuable to learn as I age. Cancer is a crash course in the untrustworthiness of the body. And, if I weren't learning it now, I would certainly get the same lesson slowly over the (God willing) post-40 decades of my life that start in 2 weeks!
The Psalms often talk about enemies, praying for protection from enemies or the defeat of enemies. For many years, I skimmed over the enemy parts, thinking that I certainly don't have that problem. Besides, some of it sounds bloodthirsty and 'un-Christian', to desire the bloody defeat of your foes. But I've learned as an adult that enemies do not need to be people who hate you or who follow you around trying to kill you. Anxiety and shame can be enemies, as can any other internal battle that impedes your faith. I think of those who struggle with addiction.
My mom reminds me that 'cancer' can be an enemy too. As she sat through chemotherapy, she meditated on the Psalms with that in mind.
Psalm 41 particularly struck me today.
1 Blessed are those who have regard for the weak;
the LORD delivers them in times of trouble.
2 The LORD protects and preserves them—
they are counted among the blessed in the land—
he does not give them over to the desire of their foes.
3 The LORD sustains them on their sickbed
and restores them from their bed of illness.
4 I said, “Have mercy on me, LORD;
heal me, for I have sinned against you.”
5 My enemies say of me in malice,
“When will he die and his name perish?”
6 When one of them comes to see me,
he speaks falsely, while his heart gathers slander;
then he goes out and spreads it around.
7 All my enemies whisper together against me;
they imagine the worst for me, saying,
8 “A vile disease has afflicted him;
he will never get up from the place where he lies.”
9 Even my close friend,
someone I trusted,
one who shared my bread,
has turned[b] against me.
10 But may you have mercy on me, LORD;
raise me up, that I may repay them.
11 I know that you are pleased with me,
for my enemy does not triumph over me.
12 Because of my integrity you uphold me
and set me in your presence forever.
13 Praise be to the LORD, the God of Israel,
from everlasting to everlasting.
Amen and Amen.
In this Psalm, the enemies can so easily be visualized as cancer. I imagine the enemy (cancer) standing beside the sickbed, just waiting for the author to die. The image of the enemy spreading lies "he goes out and spreads it abroad" -- how malignant!
For me, the "close friend" who betrays the speaker represents my body -- something I've trusted and been (literally) attached to me entire life (can't get much closer than this "friend"!). The friend is described as "sharing my bread" and "lifting up his heel against me" -- interesting that the author uses the body-related imagery of eating and the foot. My body, close and trusted friend that it has been over the course of my healthy life, has betrayed me to my enemies. That my physical body cannot be relied upon for support is a shocking lesson but also a lesson valuable to learn as I age. Cancer is a crash course in the untrustworthiness of the body. And, if I weren't learning it now, I would certainly get the same lesson slowly over the (God willing) post-40 decades of my life that start in 2 weeks!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Today's Gratitudes
1. A family friend who is also an oncologist talked to me today (on his day off); our discussion convinced me to use his close-by clinic instead of traveling >1 hour to a big cancer center for my chemotherapy. I am greatly relieved, since this will save time and will be less burdensome to friends and family who will take me to my appointments
2. My mother, who will be staying with us for most of the month of March to care for us during/after my mastectomy. She is also planning to give me her head-coverings and make me some new ones. She is a breast cancer survivor so is also an amazing source of information and understanding
3. Husband who is working on our taxes (I'm so grateful that he's willing to do that miserable task!) and who is watching the kids this weekend while I attend our church women's retreat
4. That there are some decent-looking wigs out there!
2. My mother, who will be staying with us for most of the month of March to care for us during/after my mastectomy. She is also planning to give me her head-coverings and make me some new ones. She is a breast cancer survivor so is also an amazing source of information and understanding
3. Husband who is working on our taxes (I'm so grateful that he's willing to do that miserable task!) and who is watching the kids this weekend while I attend our church women's retreat
4. That there are some decent-looking wigs out there!
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
A Vacation in Denial -- I Mean in Mexico
We just returned from a 6-day vacation in the Mayan Riviera, the eastern coast of Mexico. It was beautiful -- sunny and warm and perfect. Husband and I snorkeled and read and soaked up vitamin D. Huckle and Sally swam in the pool and "snorkeled" off an innertube and built sandcastles. It was a wonderful escape from an especially cold winter.
All vacations are bittersweet. They have the highs of anticipation and of leaving regular life behind for relaxation and/or adventure; and they have the lows of returning to reality (work! school! laundry!) afterward and no longer having a vacation to anticipate. When on vacation, we are always aware in the backs of our minds that it will come to an end. That's part of the fun -- that it's something new and different, a break from normal life. The temporariness of vacation heightens the experience.
In the case of our vacation, this one was more bittersweet than ever. The highs were higher and the lows were lower than the typical vacation. The trip was an escape from a reality that has been very hard to accept. It's still a shock to me that I, someone who cares about and vigilantly guards my health, have been diagnosed with cancer. More than ever, I needed a temporary escape from dealing with constant appointments and tough decisions, a break from cancer taking over my life. And so the days on the beach were sweeter than ever before -- more of a break than any other vacation has been. Six whole days without a doctor appointment or even a phone call about doctor appointments!
But the return was also harder. Not just seeing snow falling as the plane landed, but knowing that the following day would be more setting up appointments and smoothing out insurance issues. Despite how healthy I feel and look, it's time to own up to the fact that I am soon to undergo a big surgery and months of chemotherapy that will alter how I feel and look.
Today's gratitudes:
- a safe vacation that met my high expectations for relaxation and sunshine and family time
- 2 phone calls from friends offering help as needed
- a chance to volunteer at the kids' school, something I will not take for granted as my health worsens
- quiet time alone in the house
All vacations are bittersweet. They have the highs of anticipation and of leaving regular life behind for relaxation and/or adventure; and they have the lows of returning to reality (work! school! laundry!) afterward and no longer having a vacation to anticipate. When on vacation, we are always aware in the backs of our minds that it will come to an end. That's part of the fun -- that it's something new and different, a break from normal life. The temporariness of vacation heightens the experience.
In the case of our vacation, this one was more bittersweet than ever. The highs were higher and the lows were lower than the typical vacation. The trip was an escape from a reality that has been very hard to accept. It's still a shock to me that I, someone who cares about and vigilantly guards my health, have been diagnosed with cancer. More than ever, I needed a temporary escape from dealing with constant appointments and tough decisions, a break from cancer taking over my life. And so the days on the beach were sweeter than ever before -- more of a break than any other vacation has been. Six whole days without a doctor appointment or even a phone call about doctor appointments!
But the return was also harder. Not just seeing snow falling as the plane landed, but knowing that the following day would be more setting up appointments and smoothing out insurance issues. Despite how healthy I feel and look, it's time to own up to the fact that I am soon to undergo a big surgery and months of chemotherapy that will alter how I feel and look.
Today's gratitudes:
- a safe vacation that met my high expectations for relaxation and sunshine and family time
- 2 phone calls from friends offering help as needed
- a chance to volunteer at the kids' school, something I will not take for granted as my health worsens
- quiet time alone in the house
Going Public
After much thought, I've decided to blog specifically about my health and cancer treatment for friends and family.
It has been difficult to keep those who love me abreast (HA! I even love bad puns) of my treatment decisions -- 2 churches, 2 sets of families, neighbors, friends through the kids' school, childhood friends, friends scattered around the US. I've been blessed by those who have taken the time to write or call. It has been so encouraging. I wish it were possible to write every one of these kind people a personal note every time something happens, but (though I do my best) it's not.
Cancer treatment centers offer a blog-like service that helps keep family informed -- family members access the site to get updates and to leave comments. It's the "one stop shopping" mode of disseminating news and answering questions and encouraging the patient.
At first, I considered using this blog for such updates. But I do not want to feel compelled to write about my health all the time. Although cancer is often on my mind and affects many of my blog postings, I refuse to let this diagnosis take over my every thought. Plus, I have kept this site anonymous and private rather than presume that anyone would want to know my thoughts. Few even know it exists. This blog has been a personal exercise in writing my thoughts on any topic and without continually rehashing and reworking and researching and second guessing -- just writing it down and walking away. Although I certainly would not mind anyone reading it or commenting on it, I do not want to write with an audience in mind. I want to remain unapologetic in my spiritual ramblings on anything in life that strikes me.
So, since this blog is non-specific for treatment updates, I decided to link it to a more cancer-specific blog. The new one will cover my medical state, whereas this original one will capture my emotional state.
I also mean to exercise my gratitude by regularly posting things for which I'm thankful as a reminder to myself of all that is good. After all, SO MUCH is good in my life. I want to live my whole life joyfully, already assured that I'm a survivor.
It has been difficult to keep those who love me abreast (HA! I even love bad puns) of my treatment decisions -- 2 churches, 2 sets of families, neighbors, friends through the kids' school, childhood friends, friends scattered around the US. I've been blessed by those who have taken the time to write or call. It has been so encouraging. I wish it were possible to write every one of these kind people a personal note every time something happens, but (though I do my best) it's not.
Cancer treatment centers offer a blog-like service that helps keep family informed -- family members access the site to get updates and to leave comments. It's the "one stop shopping" mode of disseminating news and answering questions and encouraging the patient.
At first, I considered using this blog for such updates. But I do not want to feel compelled to write about my health all the time. Although cancer is often on my mind and affects many of my blog postings, I refuse to let this diagnosis take over my every thought. Plus, I have kept this site anonymous and private rather than presume that anyone would want to know my thoughts. Few even know it exists. This blog has been a personal exercise in writing my thoughts on any topic and without continually rehashing and reworking and researching and second guessing -- just writing it down and walking away. Although I certainly would not mind anyone reading it or commenting on it, I do not want to write with an audience in mind. I want to remain unapologetic in my spiritual ramblings on anything in life that strikes me.
So, since this blog is non-specific for treatment updates, I decided to link it to a more cancer-specific blog. The new one will cover my medical state, whereas this original one will capture my emotional state.
I also mean to exercise my gratitude by regularly posting things for which I'm thankful as a reminder to myself of all that is good. After all, SO MUCH is good in my life. I want to live my whole life joyfully, already assured that I'm a survivor.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Update: Now we're cookin'
After a month of nothing happening, I finally have cancer treatments lining up. The lumpectomy in early January did not have 'clean margins', meaning that the next step involves the removal of more tissue. Meaning, I will have a mastectomy on March 3. Blah. For awhile there, I thought I would get off easy. (Then again, for awhile there, I was expecting a call back from my doctor telling me they were wrong: no cancer. Funny how delusional one can get.)
Today we also met with a medical oncologist at Fox Chase Cancer Center to discuss chemotherapy:
-will I need it?
- if so, what regimen?
Here's what was taken into account:
-what is the tumor size? (smallish)
-did it spread to my lymph nodes? (no)
-positive for cancer-related BRCA mutations? (no)
-what grade of cancer (grade 1/2)
-Oncotype DX results (high end of intermediate risk)
The last one is the sinker. The results of this test of 21 breast cancer related genes, convinced the doctor that I'll need the "big guns": doxorubicin (Adriamycin), and cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan), and paclitaxel (Taxol) or docetaxel (Taxotere). That's ACT in cancer lingo.
Let's cut right to the chase: this means I'll be losing my hair in about 2 months.
Bother.
Oh, and there will likely be nausea and fatigue.
Double bother.
And part of it will happen over the summer when the kids are not in school.
Triple bother.
But, surprisingly, I'm just grateful to finally have information. The waiting and unknown were difficult to handle. This was a case when any news is good news. The next big hurdle is getting past the surgery (and my surgery related anxieties) and then hitting a routine.
I am so very grateful for a group of three friends from church who have decided to undertake the coordination of my care: they are going to help me arrange rides to my treatments, childcare during treatment and recovery, help with errands or meals, and anything else that arises. Again, I did nothing to deserve this. They are in no way indebted to me, and I haven't been some sparklingly selfless friend. These are godly women just being obedient to God's calling and following Christ's example to serve one another in love. I am again humbled and in awe.
Today we also met with a medical oncologist at Fox Chase Cancer Center to discuss chemotherapy:
-will I need it?
- if so, what regimen?
Here's what was taken into account:
-what is the tumor size? (smallish)
-did it spread to my lymph nodes? (no)
-positive for cancer-related BRCA mutations? (no)
-what grade of cancer (grade 1/2)
-Oncotype DX results (high end of intermediate risk)
The last one is the sinker. The results of this test of 21 breast cancer related genes, convinced the doctor that I'll need the "big guns": doxorubicin (Adriamycin), and cyclophosphamide (Cytoxan), and paclitaxel (Taxol) or docetaxel (Taxotere). That's ACT in cancer lingo.
Let's cut right to the chase: this means I'll be losing my hair in about 2 months.
Bother.
Oh, and there will likely be nausea and fatigue.
Double bother.
And part of it will happen over the summer when the kids are not in school.
Triple bother.
But, surprisingly, I'm just grateful to finally have information. The waiting and unknown were difficult to handle. This was a case when any news is good news. The next big hurdle is getting past the surgery (and my surgery related anxieties) and then hitting a routine.
I am so very grateful for a group of three friends from church who have decided to undertake the coordination of my care: they are going to help me arrange rides to my treatments, childcare during treatment and recovery, help with errands or meals, and anything else that arises. Again, I did nothing to deserve this. They are in no way indebted to me, and I haven't been some sparklingly selfless friend. These are godly women just being obedient to God's calling and following Christ's example to serve one another in love. I am again humbled and in awe.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The 'C' word
It's great to have so many friends and family members concerned for me. What a blessing!
I would never want to sound ungrateful, BUT right now I would be especially grateful for a conversation that doesn't include the word cancer. Really, it's taken over my life. (Ahem, malignant, much like a cancer)
And so I find myself wanting to avoid Bible study and phone calls and emails and -- oh bother!
Then again, there are other times I need to talk about it. When someone calls and I pour out my frustrations and difficult choices.
We humans are so complicated. Lord, give me the grace to be gracious.
I would never want to sound ungrateful, BUT right now I would be especially grateful for a conversation that doesn't include the word cancer. Really, it's taken over my life. (Ahem, malignant, much like a cancer)
And so I find myself wanting to avoid Bible study and phone calls and emails and -- oh bother!
Then again, there are other times I need to talk about it. When someone calls and I pour out my frustrations and difficult choices.
We humans are so complicated. Lord, give me the grace to be gracious.
Vulnerability
He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune.
- Frances Bacon, 'Of Marriages and Single Life' Essays, 1625
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
- Elizabeth Stone
I first heard this Elizabeth Stone quotation when my oldest child was a baby. Her words struck me and stuck, like rice cereal to a highchair tray. She expressed the shocking and overwhelming vulnerability I felt as a mother.
Now, if there were a fire, I wouldn't just yell to Husband and get myself safely outside. Now I would not leave the house without Huckle, even if it meant running into a fiery room to grab him. (Okay, I'd run back for Husband too, but he's self-sufficient and likely to get himself to safety.) Now would I sacrifice my life for an important cause, like standing up to Nazi atrocities or participating in the Underground Railroad? Would I hold true to my standards if my child were threatened? Definitely if I were single and childless. But now that I'm a wife and mother? Wow, I hope so. But standing up for a dangerous cause would now be layered in heart-wrenching difficulties.
Once you become a parent, a new layer of vulnerability is added to your existence. Some of the most important 'parts' of you, in fact the beings you hold more dear than your own self, are often beyond your control. And your heart only wanders farther from your body as the children age: there's the first day of school when you realize they aren't in the same place as you and you cannot know everything they experience and immediately intervene. The fire scenario changes, since you might not hear about it until the damage is done -- you are miles away. Even though the Columbine killings happened before my children were born, this event, like 9/11, is branded on my consciousness and probably on the consciousness of parents everywhere. What if my child were trapped in the building with the killers?
And then come the years of growing independence, which culminate in the dreaded day your teenager gets a drivers license and then again the double-dreaded day you drop off your kid at college. And, if that weren't difficult enough, the college years lead to adulthood, when the child you love and nurtured may decide to live far away and not communicate. And then there are car accidents, cancers, kidnappings, and whatever other calamities your imagination throws out there.
Sometimes, as Bacon said, it feels as if you have given hostages to fortune, increasing the odds of something terrible happening that shakes your world.
But here's the key point: if you think YOU are vulnerable, imagine how God feels! At first that sounds counter-intuitive -- He's the most powerful being in the universe and is in control. He can intervene at any point.
But God set up His world to allow free will -- He already had angels whose sole purpose is to do His bidding and worship Him. God wanted beings that could chose to worship Him, the way I'd rather raise a child than own a robot even if the robot will never disobey or say, "I hate you".
And, of course, that also means we beings can chose not to worship Him. And giving a choice other than good (God is good; worshiping Him is loving and doing good) means allowing evil.
The crazy thing is this: regardless of which you chose, God loves you.
John 3:16, For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. [my italics]
I Timothy 2:4, ...God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. [my italics]
You see? God loves every one of His human creations and desires that each one of them be saved. In so many parts of the Bible does He express His love and show His vulnerability. Again and again He pleads with His people to turn back to him and when they reject Him. He compares Himself to the spouse of an unfaithful partner cheats over and over again or some. He expresses anger and indignation and hurt, and yet He forgives and then forgives again. Or He compares Himself to a parent mourning for a prodigal child who has run away in body and in spirit. God knows rejection and sadness, yet He never turns his back on us.
Matthew 32:37, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.
This makes Him the most vulnerable of all, more than me with the limited number of individuals I even know, much less love more than self.
And that's what separates me from Frances Bacon (along with nearly 400 years and many other beliefs, though I'm a big fan of his 'scientific method'): my beloved family members are not hostages of fortune but individuals jointly loved by me and by God. He put them in my life so I can be His arms to hug them and His voice to speak His words of peace and love and goodness. I am His gift to them, and they are His gift to me. He cares for them more than I ever could and, unlike me, He CAN be with them everywhere. He has the knowledge of what is best for them and the power to see that His plans for them are fulfilled. I need to entrust my precious children to God and let Him be vulnerable on my behalf.
Yes, easier said than done, but what a relief it will be to let go of my fears!
Proverbs 14:26, He who fears the LORD has a secure fortress, and for his children it will be a refuge.
- Frances Bacon, 'Of Marriages and Single Life' Essays, 1625
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
- Elizabeth Stone
I first heard this Elizabeth Stone quotation when my oldest child was a baby. Her words struck me and stuck, like rice cereal to a highchair tray. She expressed the shocking and overwhelming vulnerability I felt as a mother.
Now, if there were a fire, I wouldn't just yell to Husband and get myself safely outside. Now I would not leave the house without Huckle, even if it meant running into a fiery room to grab him. (Okay, I'd run back for Husband too, but he's self-sufficient and likely to get himself to safety.) Now would I sacrifice my life for an important cause, like standing up to Nazi atrocities or participating in the Underground Railroad? Would I hold true to my standards if my child were threatened? Definitely if I were single and childless. But now that I'm a wife and mother? Wow, I hope so. But standing up for a dangerous cause would now be layered in heart-wrenching difficulties.
Once you become a parent, a new layer of vulnerability is added to your existence. Some of the most important 'parts' of you, in fact the beings you hold more dear than your own self, are often beyond your control. And your heart only wanders farther from your body as the children age: there's the first day of school when you realize they aren't in the same place as you and you cannot know everything they experience and immediately intervene. The fire scenario changes, since you might not hear about it until the damage is done -- you are miles away. Even though the Columbine killings happened before my children were born, this event, like 9/11, is branded on my consciousness and probably on the consciousness of parents everywhere. What if my child were trapped in the building with the killers?
And then come the years of growing independence, which culminate in the dreaded day your teenager gets a drivers license and then again the double-dreaded day you drop off your kid at college. And, if that weren't difficult enough, the college years lead to adulthood, when the child you love and nurtured may decide to live far away and not communicate. And then there are car accidents, cancers, kidnappings, and whatever other calamities your imagination throws out there.
Sometimes, as Bacon said, it feels as if you have given hostages to fortune, increasing the odds of something terrible happening that shakes your world.
But here's the key point: if you think YOU are vulnerable, imagine how God feels! At first that sounds counter-intuitive -- He's the most powerful being in the universe and is in control. He can intervene at any point.
But God set up His world to allow free will -- He already had angels whose sole purpose is to do His bidding and worship Him. God wanted beings that could chose to worship Him, the way I'd rather raise a child than own a robot even if the robot will never disobey or say, "I hate you".
And, of course, that also means we beings can chose not to worship Him. And giving a choice other than good (God is good; worshiping Him is loving and doing good) means allowing evil.
The crazy thing is this: regardless of which you chose, God loves you.
John 3:16, For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. [my italics]
I Timothy 2:4, ...God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. [my italics]
You see? God loves every one of His human creations and desires that each one of them be saved. In so many parts of the Bible does He express His love and show His vulnerability. Again and again He pleads with His people to turn back to him and when they reject Him. He compares Himself to the spouse of an unfaithful partner cheats over and over again or some. He expresses anger and indignation and hurt, and yet He forgives and then forgives again. Or He compares Himself to a parent mourning for a prodigal child who has run away in body and in spirit. God knows rejection and sadness, yet He never turns his back on us.
Matthew 32:37, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.
This makes Him the most vulnerable of all, more than me with the limited number of individuals I even know, much less love more than self.
And that's what separates me from Frances Bacon (along with nearly 400 years and many other beliefs, though I'm a big fan of his 'scientific method'): my beloved family members are not hostages of fortune but individuals jointly loved by me and by God. He put them in my life so I can be His arms to hug them and His voice to speak His words of peace and love and goodness. I am His gift to them, and they are His gift to me. He cares for them more than I ever could and, unlike me, He CAN be with them everywhere. He has the knowledge of what is best for them and the power to see that His plans for them are fulfilled. I need to entrust my precious children to God and let Him be vulnerable on my behalf.
Yes, easier said than done, but what a relief it will be to let go of my fears!
Proverbs 14:26, He who fears the LORD has a secure fortress, and for his children it will be a refuge.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Mardi Maigre?
(or Tuesdays with Morrie, er, Lessie?)
[Really, titles ARE half the fun]
Yesterday before church, one of the prayer warriors of the congregation, a man half my height with a spirit of fire twice as bright as anything I've ever experienced, told me that he plans to fast on my behalf every Tuesday throughout my cancer treatment.
My first thought was alarm -- I'm not worthy of this! It's too much and too undeserved. And I hardly know this gentleman!
"Oh," I stumbled, "You don't need to do that for me."
He grabbed my arm and said ferociously in his clipped Filipino accent, "Yes. I must. And I will."
"Um, thanks."
How does one respond to that? I felt like a spiritual lightweight. When have I ever fasted on someone else's behalf? When have I ever fasted?? Man, I love eating.
But, as I walked into church, I was even more blown away by a quick revelation: if I am awed that a human would fast on my behalf, how much more awe-inspiring is it that a perfect God would die on my behalf? It's shocking, unexpected, almost ludicrous.
Romans 5:7 says, Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Just think about it and be amazed. No other religion has a God, a perfect and creative and all-powerful God, who is willing to sacrifice himself on behalf of completely undeserving-to-be-rescued, and even often undesiring-to-be-rescued, sinful people. We are not worthy and never can be, even after a lifetime of pursuing a Christlike heart.
It makes me feel almost giddy to accept such a gift.
[Really, titles ARE half the fun]
Yesterday before church, one of the prayer warriors of the congregation, a man half my height with a spirit of fire twice as bright as anything I've ever experienced, told me that he plans to fast on my behalf every Tuesday throughout my cancer treatment.
My first thought was alarm -- I'm not worthy of this! It's too much and too undeserved. And I hardly know this gentleman!
"Oh," I stumbled, "You don't need to do that for me."
He grabbed my arm and said ferociously in his clipped Filipino accent, "Yes. I must. And I will."
"Um, thanks."
How does one respond to that? I felt like a spiritual lightweight. When have I ever fasted on someone else's behalf? When have I ever fasted?? Man, I love eating.
But, as I walked into church, I was even more blown away by a quick revelation: if I am awed that a human would fast on my behalf, how much more awe-inspiring is it that a perfect God would die on my behalf? It's shocking, unexpected, almost ludicrous.
Romans 5:7 says, Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Just think about it and be amazed. No other religion has a God, a perfect and creative and all-powerful God, who is willing to sacrifice himself on behalf of completely undeserving-to-be-rescued, and even often undesiring-to-be-rescued, sinful people. We are not worthy and never can be, even after a lifetime of pursuing a Christlike heart.
It makes me feel almost giddy to accept such a gift.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Milking It
Dialog #1.
Husband, moaning: My head hurts. I think it's my sinuses. And I'm so tired.
Me with feigned indifferent: Whatever. It's not like you have cancer.
Dialog #2:
Huckle: Hey! Who ate the whole bag of M&Ms?
Me: I did. Because I have cancer.
Dialog #3:
Me: Could someone please take out the garbage? I can't because I--
Husband, Huckle, and Sally: WE KNOW, WE KNOW. Because you have cancer.
Me: Well, actually, because I'm cooking dinner right now. But, you're right. Cancer patients shouldn't have to take out the garbage. Thanks!
Husband, moaning: My head hurts. I think it's my sinuses. And I'm so tired.
Me with feigned indifferent: Whatever. It's not like you have cancer.
Dialog #2:
Huckle: Hey! Who ate the whole bag of M&Ms?
Me: I did. Because I have cancer.
Dialog #3:
Me: Could someone please take out the garbage? I can't because I--
Husband, Huckle, and Sally: WE KNOW, WE KNOW. Because you have cancer.
Me: Well, actually, because I'm cooking dinner right now. But, you're right. Cancer patients shouldn't have to take out the garbage. Thanks!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Family Feud Category: Things That Grow Inside You
The ultrasound looking for cancer brought back vivid memories of other times I had lain on that table, looking at the images of Baby Huckle and Baby Sally growing in me. I found myself nonsensically scanning the screen for a beating heart, even though the probe was nowhere near my abdomen. And, obviously not seeing any beating heart, it struck me all over again why I was there. It was chilling, literally (you know what I mean if you've had one of those probes run across your naked flesh) and figuratively.
Oddly enough, the experiences have some things in common besides the technology used to image them. Both were experiences of heart-pounding anticipation and of having a secret inside me that would rock my world and the worlds of people who love me. Both were mysteriously growing inside me and using my metabolic energy to feed themselves.
And obviously that's where the differences end: one was a sweet baby, desired and already loved. The other was cancer, dreaded and detested.
Oddly enough, the experiences have some things in common besides the technology used to image them. Both were experiences of heart-pounding anticipation and of having a secret inside me that would rock my world and the worlds of people who love me. Both were mysteriously growing inside me and using my metabolic energy to feed themselves.
And obviously that's where the differences end: one was a sweet baby, desired and already loved. The other was cancer, dreaded and detested.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Decisions
I've been agonizing over some big treatment decisions. Today's realization: stop stressing about taking care of this current cancer and future cancers all at once. That makes the decisions too big and requires information I will not have now. Instead, I need to start by coping with just this cancer. I will then deal with future risks as a separate issue.
Sounds obvious, but it isn't when you are in the middle of it all.
Sounds obvious, but it isn't when you are in the middle of it all.
You Know Your Problem Is Serious When...
... the head pastor of your big church calls to pray with you.
Chariots of Fire
It's a Bible story about which you may have not given any thought since your Sunday school days. It's one of those great in-your-face-you-idol-worshipers! stories from the book of 2 Kings: God blinds the vengeful enemy army and Elisha leads them into the middle of the main Israelite city. When the confused soldiers' eyes are opened, they are not surrounded and killed by the Israelites (as they can planned to do to the Israelites) but they are wined and dined and sent on their merry (still confused) way.
That's the story we taught last Sunday to our very wiggly 1st grade class. It's a fun one to teach.
There is one part of the story that had come to my mind several times before preparing the lesson, and that's the part way at the beginning (pre-blinding) about Elisha's terrified servant, seeing the enemy army with their horses and chariots surrounding their city. A calm Elisha prays that God will open the servant's eyes, and suddenly the servant can see "the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha."
Sometimes over the past few weeks I've felt like Elisha's servant. I've felt as if I've had my eyes opened to see beyond normality. I see purpose where others might only see meaninglessness or bad karma, I see a plan where others might think chaos reigns.
Last year was tough by any human's standards. But the life outcome of the pain was even better than the pre-pain life -- I was blessed beyond imagining -- and Lesson #1 was this: don't trust in others, trust only in God. Others may betray you, but God never will.
Cancer is a word that strikes fear in most people's hearts. But I feel as if my eyes have already been opened to Lesson #2: don't trust in yourself, trust only in God. Your body may betray you, but God never will.
It's a logical progression and beautiful plan. But it will be a tough lesson. I am used to being healthy and able and active and self-sufficient. My strong sense of self is what my friend Carolyn would call a 'stronghold' in my life. I need to find my identity in Christ, not in my body or my health or my feelings. And shaking my sense of self will be shaking my world to its fiery core. But I also see that God has gathered for me an amazing support network. The chariots of fire are in place.
And then sometimes I fall back into weakness and I think, why me? Why should I have so much pain and heartache and testing in rapid succession? Why can't I have my normal life back?
I'm a former athlete, a runner who found self-esteem and confidence in high school track and cross country. (Eh? You seeing the 2nd reason for calling this post 'Chariots of Fire'? Heh, heh, I think I'm pretty clever] Our coach did not push all his runners equally. He definitely pushed some harder than others. I remember being extremely annoyed that he sometimes made me run with the boys instead of letting me run with my friends, who would have made it much more fun instead of acting all awkward and doing all that spitting and sweating and putting on macho displays (nothing could be more insulting to a high school boy's masculinity than to make him run with a girl). But it was because my coach saw in me some undeveloped potential. He pushed me harder than others because he knew I could perform better than I was. And I hope that is God's purpose now in my life. I am honored that He is allowing these events to happen in my life because He sees undeveloped potential and He wants me to move beyond my current state to bring Him more glory. Lord, help me trust in you and persevere in the lessons you are teaching me. Help me use this opportunity to develop a heart more like Yours.
That's the story we taught last Sunday to our very wiggly 1st grade class. It's a fun one to teach.
There is one part of the story that had come to my mind several times before preparing the lesson, and that's the part way at the beginning (pre-blinding) about Elisha's terrified servant, seeing the enemy army with their horses and chariots surrounding their city. A calm Elisha prays that God will open the servant's eyes, and suddenly the servant can see "the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha."
Sometimes over the past few weeks I've felt like Elisha's servant. I've felt as if I've had my eyes opened to see beyond normality. I see purpose where others might only see meaninglessness or bad karma, I see a plan where others might think chaos reigns.
Last year was tough by any human's standards. But the life outcome of the pain was even better than the pre-pain life -- I was blessed beyond imagining -- and Lesson #1 was this: don't trust in others, trust only in God. Others may betray you, but God never will.
Cancer is a word that strikes fear in most people's hearts. But I feel as if my eyes have already been opened to Lesson #2: don't trust in yourself, trust only in God. Your body may betray you, but God never will.
It's a logical progression and beautiful plan. But it will be a tough lesson. I am used to being healthy and able and active and self-sufficient. My strong sense of self is what my friend Carolyn would call a 'stronghold' in my life. I need to find my identity in Christ, not in my body or my health or my feelings. And shaking my sense of self will be shaking my world to its fiery core. But I also see that God has gathered for me an amazing support network. The chariots of fire are in place.
And then sometimes I fall back into weakness and I think, why me? Why should I have so much pain and heartache and testing in rapid succession? Why can't I have my normal life back?
I'm a former athlete, a runner who found self-esteem and confidence in high school track and cross country. (Eh? You seeing the 2nd reason for calling this post 'Chariots of Fire'? Heh, heh, I think I'm pretty clever] Our coach did not push all his runners equally. He definitely pushed some harder than others. I remember being extremely annoyed that he sometimes made me run with the boys instead of letting me run with my friends, who would have made it much more fun instead of acting all awkward and doing all that spitting and sweating and putting on macho displays (nothing could be more insulting to a high school boy's masculinity than to make him run with a girl). But it was because my coach saw in me some undeveloped potential. He pushed me harder than others because he knew I could perform better than I was. And I hope that is God's purpose now in my life. I am honored that He is allowing these events to happen in my life because He sees undeveloped potential and He wants me to move beyond my current state to bring Him more glory. Lord, help me trust in you and persevere in the lessons you are teaching me. Help me use this opportunity to develop a heart more like Yours.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
My First MRI (And My First Pasties!!)
As a medical writer, I've been writing about MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) technology for years. I know, though only very basically, how they work, how they are used, and their advantages and disadvantages compared to other imaging technologies. Well, today I had my first MRI experience. It was pretty much as expected, lying as still as possible in a big white machine that clanged and banged and rumbled.
My life has been clanging and banging and rumbling since this breast cancer diagnosis last Friday, or really since my doctor first felt a lump a month ago. Life has been a maelstrom of doctor appointments, mammograms, ultrasounds, and consultations on top of the usual parenting, work, and seasonal Christmas preparations. But the half hour lying still in this machine, unable and unallowed to do anything except lie still, gave me moments of peace in the center of the storm. So I got some good quality prayer time. And that's a blessing, since -- even though I know how critical prayer is -- it's hard to have a calm heart and take time from a frantically busy time. And prayer was also a blessing during the MRI because, when someone tells you to keep your breathing regular, the last thing you want to do is concentrate on keeping your breathing regular. Prayer was a perfect distraction.
Although the MRI was much as I expected, there were some surprises. First, the technician (who wasn't warm and friendly), sticks her hand into my 'dressing room' holding two little spongy doughnut-shaped stickers. "Here," she said gruffly. "These go on your nipples. I don't know why, but the radiologist said to." Ok! My first pasties! (No tassles though.) All the same, it was nice to have an unexpected laugh. The other surprise, far less pleasant, was that the experience required an iv. Less than a week ago, I fainted after my biopsy (yep, I'm a fainter), so the thought of more bleeding-related medical experiences made my heart drop. And I didn't dare even ask why I needed an iv -- too concerned that the explanation would make me queasy. Ms. Crankypants Technician wasn't crazy about having a fainter on her hands either. "Next time, you might want to go to the hospital for your MRI. We aren't nurses, you know." Apparently technician school doesn't have a required course called MRI-Side Manners 101. (And, really, if I had known the experience would involve an iv and a grumpy tech, I wouldn't have signed on for an MRI anywhere.) Anyway, after getting all settled on the "bed" (the tech was unhappy that I was too tall to fit as well as her normal-sized patients; I was turning out to be a very bad patient!) and lying in the machine listening to clanks for a good 20 minutes, I felt a faint coming on (when our friendly technician said she was putting something in the iv and this was the most important part so hold still) -- the racing heart, the pounding blood in my ears, clammy skin, loss of sensation in my extremities. [Technician, disgusted: "What do you mean, you feel like fainting?! If you do, we'll have to start completely over."] Usually, that's the end of it -- I've never stopped a faint before. But I prayed double-over-time, picturing God as my refuge and strength, my ever-present help in time of need. And I've got an incredible network of family and friends out there praying for me too. AND I was lying on my stomach with my heart level with my head and feet. Hooray! My heart rate calmed and I was flooded with relief. Thank you, Lord! I felt empowered.
And now more waiting for results, all of which are supposed to help me decide among my surgical options. Too bad 'no surgery' isn't an option. This is going to involve more blood, isn't it.
My life has been clanging and banging and rumbling since this breast cancer diagnosis last Friday, or really since my doctor first felt a lump a month ago. Life has been a maelstrom of doctor appointments, mammograms, ultrasounds, and consultations on top of the usual parenting, work, and seasonal Christmas preparations. But the half hour lying still in this machine, unable and unallowed to do anything except lie still, gave me moments of peace in the center of the storm. So I got some good quality prayer time. And that's a blessing, since -- even though I know how critical prayer is -- it's hard to have a calm heart and take time from a frantically busy time. And prayer was also a blessing during the MRI because, when someone tells you to keep your breathing regular, the last thing you want to do is concentrate on keeping your breathing regular. Prayer was a perfect distraction.
Although the MRI was much as I expected, there were some surprises. First, the technician (who wasn't warm and friendly), sticks her hand into my 'dressing room' holding two little spongy doughnut-shaped stickers. "Here," she said gruffly. "These go on your nipples. I don't know why, but the radiologist said to." Ok! My first pasties! (No tassles though.) All the same, it was nice to have an unexpected laugh. The other surprise, far less pleasant, was that the experience required an iv. Less than a week ago, I fainted after my biopsy (yep, I'm a fainter), so the thought of more bleeding-related medical experiences made my heart drop. And I didn't dare even ask why I needed an iv -- too concerned that the explanation would make me queasy. Ms. Crankypants Technician wasn't crazy about having a fainter on her hands either. "Next time, you might want to go to the hospital for your MRI. We aren't nurses, you know." Apparently technician school doesn't have a required course called MRI-Side Manners 101. (And, really, if I had known the experience would involve an iv and a grumpy tech, I wouldn't have signed on for an MRI anywhere.) Anyway, after getting all settled on the "bed" (the tech was unhappy that I was too tall to fit as well as her normal-sized patients; I was turning out to be a very bad patient!) and lying in the machine listening to clanks for a good 20 minutes, I felt a faint coming on (when our friendly technician said she was putting something in the iv and this was the most important part so hold still) -- the racing heart, the pounding blood in my ears, clammy skin, loss of sensation in my extremities. [Technician, disgusted: "What do you mean, you feel like fainting?! If you do, we'll have to start completely over."] Usually, that's the end of it -- I've never stopped a faint before. But I prayed double-over-time, picturing God as my refuge and strength, my ever-present help in time of need. And I've got an incredible network of family and friends out there praying for me too. AND I was lying on my stomach with my heart level with my head and feet. Hooray! My heart rate calmed and I was flooded with relief. Thank you, Lord! I felt empowered.
And now more waiting for results, all of which are supposed to help me decide among my surgical options. Too bad 'no surgery' isn't an option. This is going to involve more blood, isn't it.
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