Christmas

Christmas is upon us, and I wonder what happened to fall. Work trips to Utah and California, colder than usual weather at home, and lots of activities to keep the family busy. As Christmas approaches I always feel a little sad. We celebrate God sending Jesus to this earth to be our savior, but when I think of this precious baby who is going to die a terrible death, how can I not feel sad? I’ve always wondered if others feel this way at all. Am I weird? Am I not putting enough focus on the glory of the cross? Then, this past Sunday at church, we sang A Communion Hymn for Christmas and it was so beautiful:

Gathered ‘round Your table on this holy eve

Viewing Bethlehem’s stable we rejoice and grieve

Joy to see you lying in your manger bed

Weep to see You dying in our sinful stead

Yes! That song just nailed it for me. Don’t get me wrong, I do love Christmas. I hate decorating for it, because home decorating is just extra work when I could be reading or sleeping or watching HGTV or catching up on Survivor or doing anything else. But, I am one of those people who will gladly listen to Christmas music year-round. Secular Christmas music is just the absolute worst (unless it is Mariah Carey, and she gets a pass because, well, it is Mariah). But if I want to celebrate the birth of Christ in July I am going to sign out loud.

In other things church… I had the pleasure of working with a fabulous group of ladies to host a lovely women’s Christmas brunch last weekend. I meet with a small group of women every other Thursday night to dig into the upcoming Sunday’s scripture passage. This is has proven to be a fabulous time of fellowship, and we have fun seeing if our applications will match what is discussed in the sermon. I continue to serve as a scripture reader every few months, and I am no longer nervous when I step on stage. I am currently reading Pontius Pilate by Paul Maier and it is a fascinating read. Last week I memorized Psalm 100 which was certainly not easy for me but I absolutely love what verse three says:

Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

My family will be working through an Advent book that our church put together, and my ultimate hope for this season is to keep our focus on Christ. I’m looking forward to our Christmas Eve service, and would love to have any local friends join me (LH, I’m talking about you!). And, finally, I hope everyone has a happy Christmas season!

Pinktober

Happy Pinktober everyone! The time of year where people slap pink ribbons on everything in hopes of bringing awareness to breast cancer. When we get to see cute little NFL cheerleaders with their perfectly perky boobs wear pink ribbons that perfectly match the socks of the football players. Breast cancer isn’t cute, though. It isn’t fun. It isn’t little pink trinkets or pink tutus or pink tiaras. It is a disease. It is breast amputation and chemotherapy and radiation and reconstruction. It is hair loss, sickness, pain, and a lifetime of treatment.

Back in October 2015 I experienced Pinktober as a chemotherapy patient, and I was mad. I hated everything pink. I hated that people were making money off my disease. And I still hate that aspect of breast cancer awareness month. But, what if? What if that dumb pink ribbon actually makes a woman stop to check her boobs? What if someone finally schedules that mammogram? Then all the pink would be worth it, to save a life.

So, this October, I’m in a different place. I’m no longer angry with all the pink. I am saddened and absolutely aware that attention needs to be given to all cancers. I’m frustrated when breast cancer is treated lightly, and I’m utterly amazed that so many of my friends are not paying attention to their breast health. This year I’ll wear a little pink every day. And I’ll hope that it makes a difference.

Blessed are those who mourn

Today I attended a Celebration of Life service for a dear friend’s mother who passed away after her second fight against cancer. Her faith was strong and her time had come. Being a Christian and truly understanding the gospel gives so much hope during these times of sadness and suffering. The Bible is rich in providing this hope. As much as I hate to pull out just a few verses, because let’s be honest, the whole Bible is amazing, here are a few that were running through my head this morning:

• ·        For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels or rulers, not things present nor things to come, nor power, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Romans 8:38-39
•          “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.  1 Corinthians 15:55-57
• ·         Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4

I’m currently working on memorizing the beatitudes (see above, that was from memory, yay!). Our Sunday School teacher encourages us to memorize scripture, and for that I am grateful. Memorization is difficult for me, with my lasting chemo brain and tamoxifen that I swear makes me slightly stupid. But it is proving to be wonderful to have this reservoir of scripture in my mind.  

And so, this afternoon, I’ll work on some more memorizing. I’m enjoying the beautiful day, despite my cat bringing me a dead chipmunk and Troy isn’t home to deal with it (I covered it with a bucket, poor little evil destructive critter that it was). And, most of all, I will praise God for my friend’s mom, her life well-lived, and the promise of eternity.

And so I'll keep talking

Hello, friends. It has been quite some time since I have written. Well, strike that. It has been a while since I've published anything. But this time of the year cancer seems to come to the forefront, and this year it is screaming at me. Memories of my own diagnosis and treatment, and too many friends struggling and dying from the disease.

I don’t think God brought me through cancer to be quiet about it. Being quiet would be so easy, though. I could just let it fade away into the distance and only think about it during those pesky doctor’s appointments when they poke and prod at my chest and then tell me to come back again in a few months. Oh, how tempting that is! But what good is being a survivor if I don’t provide encouragement to others who are suffering? My outcome, so far, has been the best possible. I hate that it isn’t the case for too many people. As long as people are being diagnosed with cancer and dying from cancer, I need to keep talking.

Sunday’s sermon brought this home for me. We’ve been in John for most of the last year, and the last couple weeks we’ve been learning about the blind man in John 9. I remember back when I was diagnosed, a very foolish man told my brother that I was cursed with cancer because of unrepentant sin in my life. For anyone feeling that way, please remember John 9:3: “Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him’.” After Jesus gave the blind man his sight, the man went and proclaimed what Jesus did for him. I need to continue to do the same. God showed up in my cancer in so many places. I must keep this part of my life open so that others can see the glory of God.

Sometimes it wasn’t easy, though. There were days when I was so lonely, so sick, and so frustrated that I wondered why God would put anyone through cancer. It was hard to see God’s glory when I was so chemo-affected that I couldn’t even write my own name. But in the midst of that suffering, I continued to remember that God is sovereign. He does everything for his glory. We can’t focus on the why, but must look at the purpose (yep, I’m totally taking this from Sunday’s sermon; you can watch it online.)

So, what’s next? I’ll continue to come alongside cancer patients. I’ll share my story so others dealing with all kinds of suffering can see God’s glory. I’ll keep talking. If you’re tired of hearing about my cancer, tough luck. My story isn’t going away.

Happy chemoversary to me!

Two years have passed since my last chemo treatment.  I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking about how I wanted to “celebrate” this day. It didn’t feel right, though, celebrating. Not when there are so many people dying of cancer, being diagnosed with disease, and going through long-term sicknesses with no end in sight. What right do I have to dance and be happy when so many others are suffering?  Wait…that’s idiotic. Let’s take the focus of my cancer experience off me, and turn it to where it belongs.  I should brag about what God’s done in my life (that’s been a theme in our current sermon series). And not just what happened two years ago, but what he does every day.  Being quiet isn’t an option. And sharing is important.

God’s work in my life has been substantial over the last two years. During cancer treatment I learned to rely on him through my suffering, and in the end my suffering brought me closer to him. As chemo ended I started to feel closer to some of the people in my church, but I wanted more. I remember chatting with a church friend about not feeling as connected as I wanted, and she got me in touch the ladies’ ministry team. I quickly went from being the person who said that I would rather be shot than participate in ladies’ events to being the one to help plan them. Never would I have thought that I would attend the ladies’ retreat; sharing a hotel room (and bed!) with other people is definitely not something I enjoy. But my longing to be with other believers trumped my discomfort. I went from feeling a little like a stranger at church to feeling like I belong (despite only having one kid in a church full of big families!). I even read scripture during church services on occasion. And sometimes I mess up terribly in front of the entire congregation, but at that I simply smile and am grateful that I even am able to stand in front of everyone at all. God has taken introverted, awkward me and has given me wonderful opportunities to grow.

A cancer recurrence is in the back of my mind quite a bit of the time. If it comes back I know I’ll be fine, but if I’m honest it is something I really, really don’t want to go through again. A few weeks ago I had to have another endometrial biopsy and it was SO painful. As I lay there on the table afterward, pretty sure I was going to vomit on the floor, I felt a little sorry for myself. Why do I have to be on this dumb medication that causes dumb side effects that lead to painful biopsies? I know that it is a small price to pay to keep the cancer from coming back, but sometimes it is frustrating. I was complaining about my situation on one of my cancer Facebook groups, and another survivor and dear friend reached out. She is a believer, and I trust her. We had coffee, and discussed ways to help my body heal. I am hopeful for improved health going forward.

And so, here I am, two years later. I took the day off work. I have no real plans to celebrate, but I do intend to spend the day doing only things that I enjoy. I will read, and take naps, and drink tea. I’m going to make some food for a sick friend. I have a house project I want to work on. I’ll think a little about this day two years ago, but it feels so far away. And that’s a good thing.