Sailing Strong in the Winds of Affliction

Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with.

Thomas Carlyle 

On the tender heels of Thanksgiving, my 11-year old, Colby asked to share a bit of his heart from this past year.  I’m overwhelmed posting this … but it’s wonderful to see my 3 beautiful boys holding on and pressing in to the gift of Faith that they have eagerly unwrapped.  I am blessed.

A Year of Cancer through the Eyes of a Child

Colby

Thanksgiving was a really good time for me to look back on my life, including the rocky road of the last year and find all of the blessings that abound.  I truly thank God for my life, my health and SO much more … my family, house, food in my stomach, a free country, my Mom’s health, my education, and the very air I breathe.  I realize that sometimes God throws tough times (tests) at you.   In order to get an A+ on each test, you must remain faithful to Him, and never give up.  Even though this was a struggling time in our family we never gave up on Mom, or God.

So the big test, the journey we never expected to take was this past year.  The test has been the most difficult one I’ve taken so far in my 11 years.  On December 26, 2012 my Mom and Dad called my brothers and me into their room.  As they told us that the call came and a stage III breast cancer diagnosis was confirmed—I felt a sudden pain in my gut.   At that moment I knew it was serious … this was really happening.   My parents were open and honest about everything they knew, and that alone helped to make us feel safe.  Though I know people who have gone through cancer, it’s hard to imagine it happening to my Mom.  It was very hard to believe, and though at first I didn’t want to, I knew that I had to face reality and trust God to take the wheel.

Before that dreaded day, we knew “cancer” was definitely a possibility.  But regardless of that thought lurking days before Christmas, my parents made everything as normal as possible and full of love.  They still showed us the wonder and generosity of the season in the face of such upsetting news.  Shortly after diagnosis, the next challenge was learning that chemotherapy treatment would be the first thing my Mom would experience.  My parents helped to explain chemotherapy and the side effects that would likely happen.  It helped me to know that if and when Mom was sick, it was not because the disease was making her sick, but instead because the medication was attacking the cancer cells with the intent to make her better.

My Mom was strong and worked through treatment.   Every Thursday for 20 weeks starting in January, she would go into Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. Though I was not able to go with her every week, my Mom made special arrangements to be sure we went with her at least a few times.   I think my mom wanted my brothers and I to see that chemotherapy wasn’t scary.  The first time I went to Dana-Farber I was a bit nervous, thinking it would be creepy with a lot of very sick people there.  It didn’t take long to learn that my fears were far from the real thing.  Though difficult for the patients experiencing chemo, the people and atmosphere were both warm and welcoming.

Chemo was still sometimes scary for my brothers and me.  It’s awful when you want so much to take away someone’s pain but can’t.  During this time I tried to help in every way possible throughout the house.  Since mom was getting weaker after many treatments, her ability to do all the things she used to do in the house decreased.  I tried to spend time after school doing some simple cleanup and chores around the house.  It felt good to give back to her, especially when she was tired and struggling with a serious illness.  I hated seeing her sick and really loved making her happy. I knew that as tough as chemo was, it was made to help stop the cancer in its tracks.

When my Mom started to lose her hair during chemotherapy, as a family, we gathered and made a family time to shave her head.  I know it was hard for her to lose her beautiful hair, but we helped to lighten the mood with a little “buzz” party.

Chemo was a very difficult time, but we got through it as a family.

Things moved fast.  After Chemo was finally over, Mom was trying to get strong for surgery.  The goal of surgery was to remove any remaining cancer out of her body.   I was very scared for her. Every night I prayed, and prayed that she would be fine. The day of surgery finally came (actually on my younger brother, Logan’s birthday).  My Mom was a brave person on that day.  She was in the hospital for 5 days and we missed her so much.  My grandparents watched us and helped prepare for Mom coming home.  Before she arrived, we made her a big “WELCOME HOME!” sign.   She lit up seeing that and it made us so happy!  When she got home, things were tough for a while.  She was always very sleepy and never felt good.   But, The Lord is good.  He kept her safe through all of this.

Radiation treatment came next.  Mom was a little anxious at first, but then she learned that it wouldn’t be as bad as the other treatments.  I was so thankful that she had gotten through the treatments before. Through the house, all of us were asking questions like “Doesn’t radiation give you cancer?” and “Won’t you get burned?” All of the questions were answered, and we weren’t as anxious as before. The family got together and prayed that mom would get through the last treatment. Mom did get some burns, but she took it in stride … nothing too bad.

I love that my parents have been honest with everything going on.  They always make us know that we can go to them anytime with any question and we trust and believe that they will answer it honestly.

I thank God every day for Moms health. I hope and pray that God will always keep her in his healing hand.

My heart goes out to other kids traveling this same road.  My prayer is that they will have Faith and believe that God has them in the palm of His hand regardless of the situation.  Thieves can’t take you away when you’re resting in the palm of His hand.

–Colby

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast”      —Ephesians 2:8-9

Miles to go Before I Sleep

Woods

(originally written on my CaringBridge page on 1/22/13)

 . . .  The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.   

~ Robert Frost

Sleep.  That simple 5-letter word, wildly underestimated until you’re getting very little of it.  Sleeeeeep.  Often something I’ve been reluctant to do, but don’t want to stop after I’ve started.  Lately, sleep has become that simple yet complicated word that’s constantly on my mind . . . especially during the hours that I wish I were visiting its happy, sleepy place.   Oddly, it is during the moments of heavy fatigue, an exhaustion I’ve never experienced before, that sleep is so desired—but not found.

Growing up … and maybe even in recent days . . . certain music often puts me into “movie-mode” (Michelle’s roaring out loud right now, because only she totally gets what I’m talking about), when the music becomes a background score to my own life soundtrack.  As kids, traveling on long road trips, we would be in the back of the car, with our headphones on, dreamily glancing out the window—the music bringing us into our individual, private utopia.  Tonight, I went there—movie-mode . . . only instead of music beckoning me into my movie, it was the peaceful blanket of snow lingering on the trees out my back window that became my life’s score.  It was beautiful.

There I was, “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening”— trapped in a Robert Frost poem.  The outward simplicity of this 16-line poem brought so much depth to my movie moment.  Like the narrator, lately I find myself often yearning to linger in the quiet solitude of isolation . . . the darkest night, watching the snow fall.   In the poem, only through the resounding bell of the horse’s harness, does the narrator finally get jolted to remember the many promises he has to keep . . . miles to go, no time to give up.

<sigh>

Thank you, Lord for reminding me of your promises.  I choose hope, knowing that I have many miles to go before I sleep . . .

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.    

(Jeremiah 29:11)

 

Indescribably Indescribable

Miracles Happen

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.

C. S. Lewis

(originally posted on my CaringBridge page on 1/8/13)

There are some moments in life that are almost too surreal to adequately put into words.  Those of you who may read my journal (or as I refer to it—the c-Blog), and were actually witness to what happened Sunday morning . . . well I needn’t say more.

Divine encounters are just that . . . Godly appointments orchestrated on High, for a greater purpose, often times used to reveal Himself in an undeniably powerful way.  This particular encounter was something that I’ve never experienced before.  It was overwhelmingly beautiful to say the least.

We often go to church on Saturday evenings, but this weekend John and I both felt strongly about going on Sunday morning instead.  Upon arrival, we entered a packed sanctuary and were blessed to receive an encouraging, hope-filled message.  Then, in an unusual gesture during communion, the Pastor felt prompted to encourage those in need of any type of healing (physical, emotional, spiritual) to come forward to receive prayer.  Now normally, it takes a lot for me to be prompted to act on such an invitation, instead I’m usually one of the people interceding on behalf of others.  However, at that moment, I knew that I would be a fool not to take the invitation … acknowledging the simple truth that I need prayer even if that involves stepping completely out of my “comfort zone”.

During prayer, the Pastor felt led to ask if there was someone who needed to share a testimony.  One person, without hesitation spoke and when finished the Pastor asked again, if there was someone else who wished to share a testimony.  It was very unusual—clearly not a “planned” part of the service, instead Spirit-led.

A woman stood up in the sanctuary and started to move forward toward the platform.  The Pastor realized this was not a regular parishioner, but a first-time visitor.  Yet in an act of faith, the Pastor handed her the microphone.  Before she spoke, I looked at this woman, and though I’d never seen her before in my life, I felt an unusual connection.

When she spoke, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.  She talked about being diagnosed with breast cancer, and being told that it had traveled to 18 lymph nodes, aggressively moving through her body.  She then shared the pain this brought to her life but how the power of God brought healing to her body and joy to her entire being.  Her story was moving and powerful!  You could feel His amazing presence there … “For where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them” (Matt 18:20)

After the service, we talked for a long time and she shared how God had been waking her up for the past three nights at 3:00 am, prompting her to pray for someone, she was unsure who.  She then shared how she had no intention to visit the church but not knowing why, felt prompted to look up directions to the church the night before.  In addition, a week prior, she had dreams that God would be using her to touch and heal lives with her story.

The entire morning was indescribably indescribable.

Through this divine encounter, I met a soul sister handpicked for me at that moment.  The Lord reminded me of His promise — that He has no intention of leaving me or forsaking me and that it was He who knit me together perfectly in my mother’s womb, creating my inmost being.  His gentle whisper assured me that He would keep me as the apple of His eye, hiding me in the shadow of His wings.

I am blessed.