Many of you may know or many of you may not, but as of this past Friday I have completed my radiation treatment. It was my last treatment for the lymphoma, and up to this point I am finished with chemotherapy and radiation! I haven't documented too much of what went on during radiation. It's not that there wasn't much to document. But in regards to the story of what has gone in my life the past 5 months, I would liken the experience to a "return journey".
In any well written story, there is always falling action. The climax of the story has happened, the problem has been resolved, but there is still some things to be done to wrap up the story. If there is a story where the protagonist is a sojourner or traveler on some sort of journey or quest, the falling action typically takes place on what might be called the return journey. You don't typically read much about return journeys. It's not because they aren't interesting, nor is it because the hero doesn't have any more adventures. It's just that the return journey has a whole different feel than the journey away.
When a hero sets out on his quest (the best example of these in my opinion is the Hobbit), he is scared, ignorant of the world around him, and altogether not ready to tackle the challenge before him. It might not even seem to those around him that he is the protagonist at all. Along the journey away he begins to have adventures. He begins to learn new things about the world. He starts to tackle challenges, things he has never faced before. He meets new people. Encounters different cultures and customs. His perspective slowly begins to change. He may become equipped with information, an item, or some token that will enable him to conquer whatever is set before him. There are various difficulties, hard times, sufferings, as well as joyous occasions along the way, things that cause celebration. These all lend aid, in some way or another, to the hero as he is ready to face the climax of the story. Without the rising action of the plot, without the character experiencing these things, the story is literally flat.
But once the climax has been reached, once the problem has been resolved, and the falling action, the return journey, begins, the story changes. The protagonist has been changed. He is now different. He's learned and experienced things that will affect him for the rest of his life. A journey to him now is not so mind-blowing as it was to him at the beginning of all things. Sure there may be exciting adventures to be had, new people to meet, incredible stories to tell, dangers and hardship, or maybe even tragedy along the way. But as the protagonist has already overcome the climax and the conflict has been resolved, the return journey has almost a feeling of nostalgia and finality.
Think of someone climbing a mountain. When he/she begins to climb, everything is new. New paths, new sights, new adventures, new dangers, etc. Each difficult situation is exciting, fresh, and maybe even a little scary. There is always the constant anticipation of what's to come. As he comes closer to the top, the anticipation builds and builds until he makes it to the apex of the mountain. That is the climax. But think about it, no one really remembers too much of the journey back down. It's not that it isn't as important. In fact, there may be just as many adventures, difficulties, and memories to be made, but at the end of the day, you've conquered the mountain, you've accomplished what you set out to do, and you are changed because of it. This is the return journey.
While all this is true, there is also a sacred aspect of the return journey. Something that makes the return journey special and unique compared to the rest of the story. If you think about it, many of us, after a good story, always wish to know about what happened to this or that character after the climax of the story. Wouldn't it be great to have the adventures of Bilbo Baggins as he returned from defeating Smaug? But there is this secretness or sacredness of the return journey. It is special, something to be experienced by the hero himself. The reader may get just a vague idea of what happens in the return journey. And that is the way it should be.
This is the beauty of the return journey. It is perhaps my favorite part of the story. While it may be brief and insignificant in light of the entire problem and resolution of the story, it holds so much potential and meaning outside of what's been told. The protagonist has been changed. His outlook on the world has been significantly shifted. He has grown as a character. He has experienced things that he never would've experienced. He has learned so much that he never would've learned. His journey was completed, and the feeling of finality enables a sigh of relief.
Perhaps this is why I love the end of the Scriptures so much. Because, in some ways it chronicles the return journey. Revelation 21-22 detail what the end of all things will be like. Jesus will make all things new, a new heaven and a new earth. There will be no more crying, pain, tears, and death. And for the characters in the story, he says this, "He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be my son." It goes on to tell of God dwelling with man, of refreshment, joy, and of things made right. The final conflict will be over. Jesus will reign and we will be with him for forever. WE WILL SEE HIS FACE. Incredible. And in those last few chapters of Scripture, there holds so much beautiful meaning and potential and unknown excitement, that we just wish to know what happens to the characters. But just like in other stories, we as the readers don't get to experience what the characters in the story go through in their return journey. That's for them. It is sacred. Oh but it doesn't end there for us! What makes this story so sweet, is that we, those who belong to Christ, will get to actually experience the ultimate return journey. Now to be sure, it is Jesus who is the protagonist. He is the one who has ultimately overcome. We just get to experience all the awesomeness that is involved with his dwelling with us. A story chock-full of adventures that not even the greatest of writers could come up with, nor all the books in the world could contain.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
The R Word
So it is official. The doctor has officially used the R word in our last meeting: Remission! Much has gone on since I last updated the blog. I have finished my chemotherapy regiment, completing the last round two weeks ago. Also, I had a PET scan and got the word from the doctor this past Friday that the cancer is in remission (It was a Good Friday indeed!). There was nothing that indicated any sort of lymphoma on the scan. Praise the Lord! Unfortunately I still will have to undergo a few weeks of radiation. They do this because the PET scan does not show anything on a microscopic level, and the radiation is such a specific treatment that they are able to target any sort of remaining cancer hiding out. We have our first meeting with the radiation doctor on Wednesday to discuss all the treatment and upcoming schedule. I do not know exactly what all this will entail as of yet (i.e. duration of treatment, etc.), but I am not too worried. God has brought me through thus far and I'm confident He will continue to do so. Thank you all so much for your prayers and for your constant support throughout all of this. I am very blessed. I'll probably have a more lengthy blog post next time, but we'll let this one just be an informational post. :-)
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Spring is Coming
My favorite season of the year is spring. This is partly due to the fact that Winter is my least favorite season of the year. I hate the cold weather, the shorter days, and the lack of all things green. So when groundhog day arrives and we get our first hint of warmer weather, I am more than ready to move on to better days. I love the feeling of the coming heat, the longer days, the brighter sun, the spring showers, the greener grass and beautiful flowers.
I guess what I really love most though is the anticipation of it all. I love the first feeling you get before spring is even there. I'm sure you know what I mean. there is this feeling you get. Its very subtle, almost as if you are trying to remember something but it is just out of reach. It's a certain smell, or the way the evening sunlight shines a certain way, or the first flower you see. Something catches your attention and all of a sudden your heart flutters and you get this feeling of anticipation because you know spring is coming, and with spring brings the idea of new birth, life, refreshment, vitality, joy. All these things that are in contrast to the Winter season before (death, sleep, cold, etc.). it's this feeling so great, but it feels as if it is just out of your reach, like you could almost grasp it if you stretched far enough.
I love the hope that spring brings. And I guess that it means something more this year than it has in the past. This winter obviously has been the epitome of what I think
Winters are every year. The cancer that I am wrestling with was only aggravated by the mood of Winter. The cold seemed to seep into my being and sap the life out of me, like a candle barely hanging on to its flame. Now to be honest, it wasn't totally terrible, but the Winter definitely did not make things better. What made things better was the anticipation of Spring. I longed for the days of warmer weather, for the feeling that things in the world were waking up from their slumber.
C.S. Lewis understood this concept well when he wrote The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, for in Narnia it was always winter, but never Christmas. But when Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy came into Narnia, they brought in spring. And with spring came the hope. It was a hope that evil didn't have control over this world, but that good would win out. A hope that all was not lost in the world. That there was a Savior coming to deliver them from the evil that was ruling. And that one day, things would be made right. Every time I get a hint of spring, those thoughts and feelings come to mind. As I come to the end, Lord willing, of this journey with cancer, these feelings are accentuated all the more.
But there is one more aspect of spring that ties all of this together. It is resurrection. And it's Christ's resurrection I am talking mostly about. Spring and all that accompanies it, serve as a symbol and reminder of Jesus's resurrection from the dead. Spring says "there is a hope beyond the grave. There is a hope that one day all things will be made right. A hope that sickness, death, and the grave will be no more. A hope that evil in this world will be conquered once and for all. A hope that one day we too will be resurrected, and the world will be made new. No more tears, no more crying, no more pain. and all of this is centered and anchored in Jesus's resurrection." oh what great joy we have in Christ!!!
All of this is what I feel (as best as I can describe it) when I feel that first spring rain, or look at that first spring sunset. It's a feeling that is uncontainable really, yet at the same time barely out of my reach. I feel this tension. I feel like im seeing something unbeleivable through a veil, like im experiencing the most beautiful music with earmuffs on, or like im smelling soe thing incredible with a clothespin on my nose. It's because spring isn't here yet. It's still coming. Jesus isn't here yet. But he's coming. And on that day when he comes back, the feeling that I can't quite grasp here on earth, that feeling that there is still something more out there, will be gone. The veil will be removed, the earmuffs taken off, the clothespin put away, and Spring will be here in its fullest. The joy on that day will be overwhelming. There will be great rejoicing for those that belong to Him.
That gives me strength. It gives me hope. I look at this last chemo treatment next week with little fear and trepidation, because I know that Spring is coming. My heart burns with longing for Spring. Steven Curtis Chapman, in his album Beauty Will Rise finishes with an incredible song that captures what I'm describing here. Appropriately, it entitled Spring is Coming. I've attached a link to the music and lyrics. I hope it encourages you to look forward to the day that Jesus comes back.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Bco4kmBHEKQ
I guess what I really love most though is the anticipation of it all. I love the first feeling you get before spring is even there. I'm sure you know what I mean. there is this feeling you get. Its very subtle, almost as if you are trying to remember something but it is just out of reach. It's a certain smell, or the way the evening sunlight shines a certain way, or the first flower you see. Something catches your attention and all of a sudden your heart flutters and you get this feeling of anticipation because you know spring is coming, and with spring brings the idea of new birth, life, refreshment, vitality, joy. All these things that are in contrast to the Winter season before (death, sleep, cold, etc.). it's this feeling so great, but it feels as if it is just out of your reach, like you could almost grasp it if you stretched far enough.
I love the hope that spring brings. And I guess that it means something more this year than it has in the past. This winter obviously has been the epitome of what I think
Winters are every year. The cancer that I am wrestling with was only aggravated by the mood of Winter. The cold seemed to seep into my being and sap the life out of me, like a candle barely hanging on to its flame. Now to be honest, it wasn't totally terrible, but the Winter definitely did not make things better. What made things better was the anticipation of Spring. I longed for the days of warmer weather, for the feeling that things in the world were waking up from their slumber.
C.S. Lewis understood this concept well when he wrote The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, for in Narnia it was always winter, but never Christmas. But when Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy came into Narnia, they brought in spring. And with spring came the hope. It was a hope that evil didn't have control over this world, but that good would win out. A hope that all was not lost in the world. That there was a Savior coming to deliver them from the evil that was ruling. And that one day, things would be made right. Every time I get a hint of spring, those thoughts and feelings come to mind. As I come to the end, Lord willing, of this journey with cancer, these feelings are accentuated all the more.
But there is one more aspect of spring that ties all of this together. It is resurrection. And it's Christ's resurrection I am talking mostly about. Spring and all that accompanies it, serve as a symbol and reminder of Jesus's resurrection from the dead. Spring says "there is a hope beyond the grave. There is a hope that one day all things will be made right. A hope that sickness, death, and the grave will be no more. A hope that evil in this world will be conquered once and for all. A hope that one day we too will be resurrected, and the world will be made new. No more tears, no more crying, no more pain. and all of this is centered and anchored in Jesus's resurrection." oh what great joy we have in Christ!!!
All of this is what I feel (as best as I can describe it) when I feel that first spring rain, or look at that first spring sunset. It's a feeling that is uncontainable really, yet at the same time barely out of my reach. I feel this tension. I feel like im seeing something unbeleivable through a veil, like im experiencing the most beautiful music with earmuffs on, or like im smelling soe thing incredible with a clothespin on my nose. It's because spring isn't here yet. It's still coming. Jesus isn't here yet. But he's coming. And on that day when he comes back, the feeling that I can't quite grasp here on earth, that feeling that there is still something more out there, will be gone. The veil will be removed, the earmuffs taken off, the clothespin put away, and Spring will be here in its fullest. The joy on that day will be overwhelming. There will be great rejoicing for those that belong to Him.
That gives me strength. It gives me hope. I look at this last chemo treatment next week with little fear and trepidation, because I know that Spring is coming. My heart burns with longing for Spring. Steven Curtis Chapman, in his album Beauty Will Rise finishes with an incredible song that captures what I'm describing here. Appropriately, it entitled Spring is Coming. I've attached a link to the music and lyrics. I hope it encourages you to look forward to the day that Jesus comes back.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Bco4kmBHEKQ
Monday, February 20, 2012
It is Well With My Soul
Two Sundays ago, we sang the song It is Well With My Soul. It was an incredibly moving time of worship during the service as we praised the Lord for our salvation and for His return. What I didn't know was how much I was going to need that song during the week.
Before I continue with my story of this past week and a half's events, I first must explain the background to this incredible song. The song was written by Horatio Spafford following several tragedies in his life. The first involved the death of his only son in 1871, which was then followed by the great Chicago fire, which ruined him financially. The tipping point and true inspiration of the song was the death of his four daughters. In 1873, He had sent them and his wife ahead to Europe for a trip while he dealt with business back at home. While on their way, their ship tragically sank, and only his wife survived. As he made his way to Europe to be with his wife, he wrote the words to this song as he passed near the spot where the ship had sunk. It amazes me that a man who had undergone that much tragedy could write such amazing words like this. It points to the insurmountable hope he had in Christ.
This past week was not nearly as tragic as the events related above, but the words that Spafford wrote were just as true and encouraging. It was this week that I first felt the physical affects of the chemotherapy after this last round. I was incredibly tired, weak, achy,feverish, and generally had a lack of energy and well being. I felt the incredible drain that the chemo had put on my body and it was hard to persevere through it. My doctor prescribed some antibiotics on Tuesday, but they did little to make me feel any better. I struggled throughout the week, trying to get rest, but nothing was really working. I just had to rely on those words, "it is well with my soul". Friday rolled around and with it my doctors visit to get my blood checked. As it turned out, both my white and red cells were extremely low causing the majority of my symptoms. The doctor came to see me, and because I was still feverish and my blood levels still low, he decided to admit me into the hospital to run some tests, give me blood and antibiotics.
And so here it is, Monday evening, and I'm still in the hospital. Finally they have some idea what is wrong with me and can give me more specific antibiotics, but I am still in here indefinitely. God has been good through it all. My cousin Andy came down from Colorado this weekend and we've gotten to spend the entire weekend hanging out and catching up. I finally got to be in the new cancer hospital, which is pretty great I might add. But none of these compare to the truth in the song Spafford wrote. Some of those outside of Christianity think that what we do is believe in a lie so thatwe don't have to encounter the general angst and difficulties of this life. But that's not true at all. It's not that we Christians just drum up this feeling of goodyness and false emotions, lying to ourselves to say that everything is fine. That's not the point of that song and that's not the point of the Christianity. We aren't trying to escape the trials of this world or pretend they don't exist. I guarantee you Horatio Spafford understood better than most that life was incredibly difficult at times, almost impossible. After what he lost it is amazing that he could even move on.
But that's just the thing, he knew the secret. He had found the hope that could overcome all obstacles. A hope that endured through the most difficult trials and tribulations. A hope that is sweeter than anything else in this life. That is the hope of salvation in Christ. I will let his words explain themselves as I finish this blog. I'm glad can join him and say amidst this bump in the road, "It is well with my soul."
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Before I continue with my story of this past week and a half's events, I first must explain the background to this incredible song. The song was written by Horatio Spafford following several tragedies in his life. The first involved the death of his only son in 1871, which was then followed by the great Chicago fire, which ruined him financially. The tipping point and true inspiration of the song was the death of his four daughters. In 1873, He had sent them and his wife ahead to Europe for a trip while he dealt with business back at home. While on their way, their ship tragically sank, and only his wife survived. As he made his way to Europe to be with his wife, he wrote the words to this song as he passed near the spot where the ship had sunk. It amazes me that a man who had undergone that much tragedy could write such amazing words like this. It points to the insurmountable hope he had in Christ.
This past week was not nearly as tragic as the events related above, but the words that Spafford wrote were just as true and encouraging. It was this week that I first felt the physical affects of the chemotherapy after this last round. I was incredibly tired, weak, achy,feverish, and generally had a lack of energy and well being. I felt the incredible drain that the chemo had put on my body and it was hard to persevere through it. My doctor prescribed some antibiotics on Tuesday, but they did little to make me feel any better. I struggled throughout the week, trying to get rest, but nothing was really working. I just had to rely on those words, "it is well with my soul". Friday rolled around and with it my doctors visit to get my blood checked. As it turned out, both my white and red cells were extremely low causing the majority of my symptoms. The doctor came to see me, and because I was still feverish and my blood levels still low, he decided to admit me into the hospital to run some tests, give me blood and antibiotics.
And so here it is, Monday evening, and I'm still in the hospital. Finally they have some idea what is wrong with me and can give me more specific antibiotics, but I am still in here indefinitely. God has been good through it all. My cousin Andy came down from Colorado this weekend and we've gotten to spend the entire weekend hanging out and catching up. I finally got to be in the new cancer hospital, which is pretty great I might add. But none of these compare to the truth in the song Spafford wrote. Some of those outside of Christianity think that what we do is believe in a lie so thatwe don't have to encounter the general angst and difficulties of this life. But that's not true at all. It's not that we Christians just drum up this feeling of goodyness and false emotions, lying to ourselves to say that everything is fine. That's not the point of that song and that's not the point of the Christianity. We aren't trying to escape the trials of this world or pretend they don't exist. I guarantee you Horatio Spafford understood better than most that life was incredibly difficult at times, almost impossible. After what he lost it is amazing that he could even move on.
But that's just the thing, he knew the secret. He had found the hope that could overcome all obstacles. A hope that endured through the most difficult trials and tribulations. A hope that is sweeter than anything else in this life. That is the hope of salvation in Christ. I will let his words explain themselves as I finish this blog. I'm glad can join him and say amidst this bump in the road, "It is well with my soul."
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
It is well with my soul
It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Providence or coincidence?
I wanted to officially give an update of what has gone down since my last post. I found out the PET scan results just a few hours later and we discovered that the doctors could no longer see the tumor! It was gone and all that was left were just a few reacted lymph nodes around my chest. I don't havea completely clean bill of health just yet, but it is a major praise and blessing of the Lord to have this major part of the battle out of the way. The victory is his. That being said I still do have three more rounds of chemotherapy, basically for maintainence you could say.
I got in today for round four expecting to be in the new cancer hospital. From everything the nurses had said, the new cancer hospital is like the disneyworld of hospitals compared to like your travelling carnival of the Roberts building. They told me i would be in a room there, but wouldn't you know, im in good ole roberts yet again. Bummer. On top of this minor set back, I have been having daily headaches for the past week and a half. While it is most likely due to the weather or some unrelated issue, most people are battling colds and headaches and what not this time of year, the doctors are being extra precautious to make sure that the cancer has not spread to my brain (something they aren't able to see on a PET scan). Ths is very rare and most likely not the case. They did an MRI today and confirmed that my head didn't have anything in it... Well they did find some brains thankfully, suspicions were confirmed, but no cancer, which was very good news. Unfortunately, I still have to go through with a lumbar puncture in the morning to get some spinal fluid checked out and to give me some precautionary chemo to treat the brain. Not an activity I was really hoping to partake in on a Tuesday morning.
God has been teaching me a few things already this stay. The good news on Friday was what some call a mountaintop experience. God came through and answered prayers, proving once again that he is faithful and that he is healer and that he loves us. But Monday comes and with it comes some difficulties, the stress of having to go through another round of chemo, added to the worry and anxiety over more unknown procedures and fears that come with that, plus the disappointment of not getting to be in the new hospital (I know, it seems silly but perspectives sure do change lol), could have been a bit overwhelming. But God had prepared me for it.
Van preached a sermon yesterday highlighting God's providence. He taught how God's timing is perfect. Sometimes we get put in situations that are coincidental or something that we wouldn't have expected, but God certainly may have a big reason for it. There was a reason for the good news on Friday and there is areason for all that is happening this week. God is teaching me to persevere. To continue to trust him. Lamentations 3:25 says "the LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the person who seeks Him." sounds good enough for me, regardless of the circumstance, good or bad. He is faithful. His loving kindness never ceases and his mercies are new every morning. That's good news for me,especially in light of tomorrow.
For a prayer request, I do ask that you all would pray for the lumbar puncture procedure tomorrow. I'll be crossing off another item on my "hole in the bucket" list,and would love some prayers for courage and safety. Thanks so much for all of your support and prayers! I am so blessed and God continues to answer your prayers!
I got in today for round four expecting to be in the new cancer hospital. From everything the nurses had said, the new cancer hospital is like the disneyworld of hospitals compared to like your travelling carnival of the Roberts building. They told me i would be in a room there, but wouldn't you know, im in good ole roberts yet again. Bummer. On top of this minor set back, I have been having daily headaches for the past week and a half. While it is most likely due to the weather or some unrelated issue, most people are battling colds and headaches and what not this time of year, the doctors are being extra precautious to make sure that the cancer has not spread to my brain (something they aren't able to see on a PET scan). Ths is very rare and most likely not the case. They did an MRI today and confirmed that my head didn't have anything in it... Well they did find some brains thankfully, suspicions were confirmed, but no cancer, which was very good news. Unfortunately, I still have to go through with a lumbar puncture in the morning to get some spinal fluid checked out and to give me some precautionary chemo to treat the brain. Not an activity I was really hoping to partake in on a Tuesday morning.
God has been teaching me a few things already this stay. The good news on Friday was what some call a mountaintop experience. God came through and answered prayers, proving once again that he is faithful and that he is healer and that he loves us. But Monday comes and with it comes some difficulties, the stress of having to go through another round of chemo, added to the worry and anxiety over more unknown procedures and fears that come with that, plus the disappointment of not getting to be in the new hospital (I know, it seems silly but perspectives sure do change lol), could have been a bit overwhelming. But God had prepared me for it.
Van preached a sermon yesterday highlighting God's providence. He taught how God's timing is perfect. Sometimes we get put in situations that are coincidental or something that we wouldn't have expected, but God certainly may have a big reason for it. There was a reason for the good news on Friday and there is areason for all that is happening this week. God is teaching me to persevere. To continue to trust him. Lamentations 3:25 says "the LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the person who seeks Him." sounds good enough for me, regardless of the circumstance, good or bad. He is faithful. His loving kindness never ceases and his mercies are new every morning. That's good news for me,especially in light of tomorrow.
For a prayer request, I do ask that you all would pray for the lumbar puncture procedure tomorrow. I'll be crossing off another item on my "hole in the bucket" list,and would love some prayers for courage and safety. Thanks so much for all of your support and prayers! I am so blessed and God continues to answer your prayers!
Friday, February 3, 2012
Hair or no hair
I apologize for the length of time between posts. It has been nice to be able to get back to normal activities for the most part, and unfortunately I have not had too much time for introspection. But alas, the time for introspection has come again. Yesterday I had a PET scan to determine whether the cancer has metastasized (spread to other parts of my body) or been all but destroyed. We await the results of the scan either today or Monday. I go back in to the hospital for round 4 most likely on Monday as well. To be honest with you, I began to get anxious concerning the PET scan and its results. The results could be great, but they could also be something less than desired. We just don't know. Before I could let myself wallow in worry and fear, the Lord reminded me of a verse that my dad showed me my last stay in the hospital.
Round 3 was a pretty good round in the hospital. I felt pretty good the whole time, but as a result I was pretty stir crazy and most ready to get out of there. Emotionally, staying in the hospital was wearing me down. And in perfect timing, my dad reminded me of this verse. Matthew 10:30 "Even all the hairs on your head are numbered." Real funny, dad. Making bible jokes about my baldness. I should've pulled an Elisha and sicked some bears on him. But no, for some reason, this verse brought me great comfort, although in reality it shouldn't have. Think about it. God has all the hairs on my head numbered. Real hard. Even I could number the hairs on my head now. Zero. It would show that he would be wiser and more powerful if I had a full shaggy head of hair. But that's missing the point.
The point of the passage is not to fear man or the things of this world, but to fear God. God knows whether you have zero hairs on your head or have hair like a Wookie. And Jesus says we are more valuable than the sparrows who don't fall to the ground apart from the Father's will. It reminded me of Matthew 6 where he says not to worry about your life. God is totally in control. He cares for the sparrows so well, and we are so much more valuable than them. He cares for the flowers of the field, and yet we are so much more valuable than them. How much more will He care for us? So why should I worry about the results of the PET scan? God's got the hairs on my head numbered. Child's play.
What are we to do instead of worry? Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things (life, clothes, food) will be added to us. Maybe even my hair back one day! So forget the worrying. Who ever added a day to his life by worrying? Hair or no hair, favorable result or unfavorable result of this PET scan, I'm seeking first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.
Friday, January 13, 2012
My Eyes are Opened
It’s about that time again. Time to go back to into the hospital for round 3! This break has gone by of course entirely too fast, but it has been a great break. How I have felt this break cannot even compare to the first one. I have had much more energy, I’ve gone back to working a little, I’ve been out and about, and am feeling just generally much better. Praise the Lord! So as I am standing on the precipice of round 3 beginning on Monday, I say, “Bring it on!” My doctor is increasing my dose of chemotherapy. He saw me last time staring at the chemo bags and laughing in their face. Needless to say they cowered in fear and submission, so he thinks it’s best to try and up the dose. Psh. Child’s play.
Anyways, something has been on my mind throughout this entire ordeal and I think it’s appropriate at this time to bring it up. It’s actually an event that has been on my heart for nearly a year now, something that is one of those life-changing, breath-taking, make-you-rethink-your-life type events. It came in the form of a sick little girl I met in Uganda this past summer.
Many of you may or may not know that I spent two weeks in southwest Uganda working with Christians there doing ministry at a Bible College and at a rural medical clinic. At the medical clinic, hundreds of people from the surrounding villages came (some more than 3 miles) to sit and wait in the hot sun to be helped by our small medical team. For two weeks they were helped by our group (I began working with them the second week), and praise the Lord we were able to help establish this clinic for the people of that community.
Before you think that I might fit in at a medical clinic, I assure you that as a Shotts, I am a misnomer, and all I did was fumble along in the pharmacy trying to help fill prescriptions for the Ugandans that didn’t have medical care. Many of you know that I do not show emotions very well, and Uganda was no different. I was trying very hard to not get moved emotionally by the great need for Jesus and for medicine there where we were working. I didn’t want to show anyone that I was affected by the spiritual and physical pain these people were experiencing. I was doing a good job of staying objective with the task at hand. And it helped that I was in the pharmacy dealing with finding the correct medicine, counting pills, and filling prescriptions. Objective. I didn’t have to see the patients, deal with their hurts and pains, try to communicate with them and encourage them. Other jobs were taking the patients temperatures, blood pressures, finding out their symptoms, etc. But in the pharmacy, I could just stay behind the scenes and maybe I could get out of there without being moved by the needs that I saw. Let me just say this, God works in mysterious ways.
There were too many of us in the pharmacy. Since I was the newest member of the team, I took a break and sat in the ‘waiting room’. A few minutes later the leader of our team rushed in the door carrying a little girl. She was incredibly sick with malaria, barely awake and able to move on her own. He sat her down next to me and ran to get the doctor. Unbelievable. All of a sudden, after trying to keep my distance from being too involved with what was going on, I was thrust into a situation where I couldn’t do anything but be involved, and the emotions I was trying to hard to keep in check all came bubbling forth. Those next few minutes with her sitting by me are so difficult to put into words. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to help? I couldn’t heal her. I couldn’t speak her language. I didn’t even know her name. I thought of when I was a child. My mother took me to the doctor when I was sick. This girl was all alone. At my doctor’s office we had toys and games in the waiting room, with cool paintings on the wall and stickers and candy when we were done. This clinic was concrete and had no toys. My mom was the one who communicated with the doctor. The doctor came and told her how and when to take the medicine. If I was that sick, I would’ve been able to go to the hospital and get IV fluids and the best, state of the art medical care. She had to get her medicine in a little Ziploc bag with a bottle of water. Here I was, sitting next to a very sick little girl, not knowing if she was going to live or die, feeling worlds apart, and yet the Lord laid it on my heart to do something. But what could I do?
I went to my backpack and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. For the next few minutes I drew pictures with her. I told her my name and tried to my best to communicate with her, to make her laugh, to make her feel not so afraid, to make her think of something else besides her sickness. In a few minutes, she was pretty exhausted and so we stopped drawing. She laid her head on my shoulder and slept. Those next moments seemed like an eternity to me. All of those “Why, God?” questions welled up in my mind. Why this little girl? Why all this sickness and pain? Why can’t you just heal her? I was heartbroken that here was this very sick little girl sitting next to me, and I could not even communicate in words the love of Jesus for her. I wanted very badly to tell her that things were going to be okay. That Jesus loved her and cared about her, that he defeated sin and death and Satan so that one day there would be no more sickness and pain and suffering, so that one day she wouldn’t have to be alone and scared. But instead I had to sit there silent, while she slept, praying that she would be ok. God works in such mysterious and sometimes very frustrating ways.
And just like that, our team leader came with the doctor, woke her up and explained the medicine to her. Still too weak to walk, our team leader picked her up and carried her back to the school she was at, about a five minute’s walk away. How badly I wanted to be the one to save her. To carry her back to the school and make sure she was okay. To help her get better. To make sure she understood how to take the medicine. To make her feel comfortable and unafraid. All these things I wanted to do but knew that I couldn’t. It was out of my control. I watched that little girl go, not knowing whether I would ever see her again or ever find out how she was doing. God works in such mysterious ways.
I think of that little girl every time I go to the hospital now. I think of how blessed I was and am to be in a place that provides incredible medical care. I never take for granted the blessings that God has given me when it comes to the cancer I have now. He has kept me safe and given me doctors and a hospital that can provide the care I need to get better. He’s given me a family, friends, and a church family that support me in so many ways that I am overwhelmed. I can’t begin to describe my gratitude for all of this. But yet I’m constantly reminded of that little girl in Uganda who didn’t have what I have. I’m reminded that Jesus calls us to go and make disciples of all nations. I’m reminded that he says to love our neighbor as ourselves. He calls us to share his love with those who don’t have it. To meet the needs of those who we come into contact with.
Let’s be passionate about showing Christ’s love to the people of God (for this is how the world will know we are his disciples) and then to those who don’t know his love and to those who need his healing, spiritual and physical. Many of those sick people in Uganda begged for Bibles in their own language. Many wanted to know why God would do this to them. Many of them aren’t going to be able to hear about Jesus because they are dying from illnesses like malaria and complications from AIDS.
I’m reminded of all this as I prepare to go back into the hospital on Monday. My eyes are opened. I pray that yours would be as well. Those of us who are in Christ, let’s not forget those in the body of Christ that are hurting, physically, spiritually, emotionally. Maybe what they need is just a shoulder to put their head on. And let’s not forget those who don’t know Christ. Perhaps they need to see his love as well. That’s my prayer and goal this round, to show the love of Christ to those in good ole Roberts building, floor 9.
There is an end to the story of that little girl. The next day there was a team of us going to the elementary school to give shoes and glasses to the children there. As I was helping one of the girls with her glasses, this other girl comes up to me, tugs on my shirt and waves with this big smile on her face. At first I didn’t recognize her, but then I knew who it was. It was the little girl from the clinic! Words can’t describe how overjoyed I was to see her. She looked so much better, and I knew that God had worked a miracle. God is good. He was in control all along. He is a healer. I praise and thank him that even in my weakness and selfishness, he used me and changed my heart to become more like him. Let’s get in on his mission and share his love to those who need it.
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