The cause I wasn't looking for

“It is not genetic.”

That’s what I told people so many times when they asked if my mom had breast cancer. That was a popular question…”did your mom have breast cancer”? Yes, she did, but I was BRCA 1 and 2 negative. So it wasn’t genetic.

I’ve spent the last 4.5 years not at all concerned about why I developed cancer. I knew the bigger picture of why. I got cancer simply because bad things happen in this sin-cursed world. My cancer gave me amazing opportunities to share my experiences and influence others. I was never looking to learn the medical cause of my cancer.

A couple months ago my mom went in for her regular mammogram. Her intake form showed a red flag based on family cancer history, so she was offered genetic testing just to see if there were any abnormalities. She agreed to the testing, and learned that she carries a mutation on the CHEK2 gene. This mutation is associated with a high risk of breast cancer. And there was a 50/50 chance she passed it along to me.

When my mom told me about the gene mutation, it was pretty clear to me that my result would come back showing that I am a carrier. How could I not be? And so, I got my results today, and I also have the CHEK2 mutation. I have a higher likelihood of getting breast cancer (ummmm…okay, got that part done!). And there is also an increased risk of colon cancer. Great.

My conversation with my doctor was interesting. She’ll pass my results along to my oncologist, but she doesn’t think we’ll need to do anything different in terms of my ongoing breast cancer treatment because I had a bilateral mastectomy. I am so thankful I made that decision all those years ago! If I had opted for a lumpectomy, or single mastectomy, I would have some pretty big decisions to make now. I should have started colonoscopies at 40, so I'll get one once COVID is under control. And those will repeat every 3-5 years until I'm 80. 

There is a 50/50 chance that I’ve passed this mutation along to Marah. She can’t be tested until she is 18, but I am grateful that she will know her risk well before I did. Even though this mutation is “rare”, I wonder why a full genetic testing panel isn’t done for everyone? Had I known that I carried this mutation back when I was 18, would I have opted for a preventative mastectomy and then avoided cancer and chemo altogether? Who know? But at least my child will have the information she needs to make an informed decision regarding her health. And for that I am grateful.

Time to share again

HOW DO WE USE OUR SUFFERING PRACTICALLY AS A TOOL TO EVANGELIZE THE LOST AND DISCIPLE BELIEVERS AROUND US?

This was a question posted during a Q&A at my church following our sermon series in the book of Job. My answer, of course, is to write about suffering. Talk about it. Let people know that life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but God’s grace abounds. But I haven’t been doing that lately. Not because I haven’t encountered suffering, but more because so much of my writing focused on cancer. And I don’t currently have cancer. I do see my oncologist this week for my semi-annual boob-poke, and that’s about all I have going on with cancer.

I’ve had two people in the last two weeks mention my blog to me. One person told me I am a good writer; I had no idea he had read my blog. Another person let me know that she enjoys my word choices. I have had blog posts that have lived only in my head, never having the opportunity to make it out. But now it feels like it is time to share again.

The last year has been rough on my family. There is an issue in my extended family that has been forefront in all our lives, with an undercurrent of sadness and extreme depression. I don’t talk about this ongoing issue because it is truly exhausting, and it isn’t my story to tell. Just know that we have been dealing with it, nearly every day, for almost a year.

…Should we accept only good from God and not adversity?... Job 1:10

God continues to work in our lives, and we praise him as we are presented with opportunities to glorify him. Last summer Troy and I had planned a family vacation to South Dakota. A couple months before the vacation, we had a nearly maxed out credit card and $1,500 of unpaid medical bills. We made the tough decision to cancel the trip because we realized we just couldn’t afford to go. It was a tough call to make, and for me, embarrassing to admit that we didn’t have the resources to make the trip happen.

Instead of going to South Dakota, we decided to visit Troy’s family. We spent a few days in Freeport, IL, with his dad, stepmom, and siblings. We then traveled to Madison, WI, to visit his cousin and family. It was a delightful trip. And just a month after our visit, Troy’s dad and stepmom were killed in a horrific motorcycle accident.

…a person’s days are determined and the number of his months depends on you … Job 14:5

I remember Troy’s phone call to tell me the news. I was getting Marah ready for bed, and he was out with friends after his weekly golf outing. I couldn’t understand what he was telling me. Both of them? What?

We were just there.

Part of what makes the loss of Bill and Cindy so tragic is that Troy had only reconnected with his father in the last few years. To make a long story short, Troy was successfully building new relationships with his father and newly found siblings. Time was such a gift. And we praise God for our unfortunate financial situation of last summer. It gave us family memories that are so cherished now.

Suffering doesn’t have to be cancer. It can be financial struggles. Infertility. Loss. Suffering is an inevitable part of our sin-filled world, but it is also an opportunity. A beautiful opportunity to evangelize the lost and disciple believers around us.

But I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the end he will stand on the dust. Even after my skin has been destroyed, yet I will see God in my flesh. I will see him myself; my eyes will look at him, and not as a stranger. My heart longs within me. Job 19:25-27

Anew

But this I call to mind,

And therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

His mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning;

Great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

To the soul who seeks him.

Lamentations 3:21-25

I recently decided that I would be done with cancer. I resigned my volunteer position with Can Do Cancer, and I turned down at least three speaking engagements regarding cancer. Cancer was getting to be too much, and I needed a break. In order to continue my healing, I needed to stop talking about it and stop thinking about it.

But then, the text came. I was asked to prayerfully consider serving on a panel for the ANEW Conference, which is my church’s women’s conference. The panel, titled “Great Expectations”, was to focus on our responses to circumstances that threaten to derail our dreams. My response: of course I’ll help.  Because it was for church, and I love the women there, I didn’t dream of turning it down.

The conference was yesterday, and I am thrilled with how everything came together. I was on the planning team, so watching the event from infancy to fruition was very satisfying.  The panel, however, was especially good for my soul. There were five of us, all with different trials we went through. As I was sharing my experience, I realized once again that my story does still matter. As much as I want to forget cancer sometimes, sharing my struggle and the hope I found in my faith is so important.

As the five of us were talking, we were asked to talk about the hardest aspects of dealing with our trials. I was the first to talk (not surprisingly), and I shared that I struggle with fears of recurrence as well as survivor’s guilt. Why is it that I made it to this side of cancer when so many others do not? Then, the woman next to me shared that she struggles with guilt as well. Why has she overcome infertility and so many others have not? And then the next woman had a similar response. Why was she able to bring her baby home from the NICU when so many others never do?  As we shared our collective feelings of occasional guilt, I came to an important conclusion. I should never question God’s grace. God carried me through cancer and brought me to this side, and I need to continue to share what He did. Because this whole cancer thing really isn’t about me; it is about God’s glory.

So, in the end, I’m still going to turn down opportunities to speak. Unless it is an opportunity to share about God. Then, that’s clearly a different story.

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.