Category Archives: Family Times

August 7, 2013 · 12:03 pm

Unshakable

The other night at dinner, we were discussing old movies. Old–as in black and white…as in Charlie Chaplin, Laurel and Hardy and the like. We grew up watching many of these kind…either that or classic reruns of black and white television shows, such as The Lone Ranger, Petticoat Junction, The Dick van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, The Beverly Hillbillies or The Andy Griffith Show. If I ever need a hearty laugh, these are bound for success!

Don Knotts, who plays Barney Fife on The Andy Griffith Show, also starred in many funny movies: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, The Reluctant Astronaut and The Shakiest Gun in the West are personal favorites. In the 1968 film, The Shakiest Gun in the West, we find Jesse W. Haywood (Knotts) fresh out of a dentist school in Philadelphia and now pursuing the West to open an office and provide his services there. One hilarious event after another, Haywood’s vulnerability places him right in the middle of a secret government case in which he has been lured into by the stagecoach robber, Penelope “Bad Penny” Cushing, who has been offered a pardon if she helps solve the case.

Haywood at the beginning of the movie is not what you would label a western man. Everything changes for him when the other wagon men see–what they perceive–as Haywood fighting off a group of Native Americans. Suddenly he is a hero. From that point on, his pride is fueled, enough even to accept a challenge from the famous and feared Arnold the Kid. It is only after this that he discovers the truth about his fighting abilities–it is not him, but has been Penny the entire time. Crushed, he returns to the plain old Jesse W. Haywood…a nobody in his eyes. I don’t want to spoil anymore of the movie, but I will say that in the end, we see that Haywood learns confidence. He has experienced the West and longed to be something big–but in the end, it is not his pride or fighting skills that earn him his recognition but simply by being himself and what he does best: being a dentist.

When my sister was here in July, we watched this movie. 🙂 I have thought of it a few times lately more because it gives me a few good laughs when I get frustrated with my hands. As you may recall, my hands are weakening–curled fingers due to muscle loss in the left hand and extreme numbness in the right hand which results in lack of grip and sensation. It is not entirely noticeable but my hands also shake. Not violently but just a steady jitter.

When it first started, I did not think much of it, figuring it was just a phase or I was tired that day or anything else excuse-wise that came to mind. When changes happen in my body, I allow myself a certain period of time to test and take note if it is indeed a change or just a spontaneous reaction of tumors with the nerves. Sometimes things happen only once, never occurring again. Unless it is crucial–like my notice of hearing loss–I don’t mention anything to my parents or doctors until it becomes a relevant occurrence.

One night, my sister came home and as we were talking she just broke in midsentence and asked, “Are you feeling ok? Your hands are really shaky.” I had not mentioned it to anyone yet…guess it was time to say something. That was early summer. As the summer months progressed, so did the shake. Sometimes my left thumb will spasm. It does not hurt; I just have no control over its movement.

I really don’t notice the shakiness until it is obvious: when I eat, when I write or as I observed last night..when I paint in detail. I was finishing my last two paintings for Saturday’s festival (exciting 🙂 ), but on the one I was elaborating with flowers and side margin décor. My shakiness started to frustrate me as my marginal fancywork continued to expand farther and wider than what I wanted, topping it of with my right hand smearing the metallic red paint amidst the baby blue background.

– – –

This past weekend, there had been (and will be) a lot of conversation about the days ahead and my health. Since my body continues to change, we are moving forward to get the help and resources set up in advance so when life gets more shaky, we have some stability. It was a rough weekend emotionally. As if shaking in fear of losing “independence,” I was reminded that receiving this help will in return help me to continue to live as independently as possible. There are resources and services that we are not familiar with…this is a whole new chapter in life.

It doesn’t come naturally for me to admit that I need the help, but it is then that I am graciously humbled. I had to set aside my pride to see the goodness in this situation. I see a parallelism to my prayers as well. I have been contemplating what it means to “ask, seek, knock” (Matthew 7:7). Three action verbs…why are they so difficult to act upon? And yet I can come before God at any time, not with shaking or trembling, but with confidence.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need…[and] let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Hebrews 4:16, 12:28a

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August 6, 2013 · 4:56 pm

Good grief

If someone asked me if there was a particular book I found myself returning to and rereading, I would have to answer: The Book of Psalms. Don’t get me wrong…I could say ‘The Bible’ as a whole, but even within the Bible, I am consistently in the Psalms. The Book of Psalms seems to cover every emotion of the human heart: anger, fear, sorrow, joy, peace, praise, questions…whatever situation I find myself in, I can find a Psalm to encourage, comfort or challenge my thoughts.

I am not sure what initially caught my attention to the phrase, but I started to note that “steadfast love” made a common appearance throughout the whole book. I recently restarted the Psalms, this time with the intent of not skipping around, but rather reading through the book in numeral order and making reference to the verses containing the phrase, “steadfast love.” I have just begun and realize that there will be many references by the time I reach Psalm 150. 🙂

Seeing, reading, hearing or writing certain phrases (or words) will cause them to get in your mind, and out of the reoccurrence, a habit of saying the phrases (or words) is most likely to follow. Habits like this are strange. It is not that I planned to get myself in phrase habits…it just happens.

The first time I think I started getting into phrase habits was when my sister started to use the term, “cutsie” in describing things. I started to say it, because I heard her say it. Once I got to college, I stopped saying the word. Then there was the term, “Cool beans.” What that means, I am not quite sure but I am glad I chose that particular phrase instead of “Dude.” For some odd reason, I never found myself sounding realistic when I said, “I know dude.” It would be as if I were quoting Janice from the Muppets, “Oh wow, like for surely.” Both were just not in my personality profile I suppose.

Last summer the word was “genius.” If I agreed with something: “Genius!” If I thought a point was well made in a conversation: “Genius.” If I learned something new or finally understood something that was trying to be communicated: “Genius.” Along the way, with my fascination for English/UK history growing, I then ventured to also stating, “brilliant” after my train of thoughts if “genius” had not already been spoken. Of course, I know where I got my word “brilliant” from: try not to laugh but it is the truth–Yzma, off of Disney’s The Emperor’s New Groove. Truth spoken. 🙂 [And if you haven’t seen the movie…you must!]

As of the present, my phrase is “Good grief.” I have no idea where this came from–I don’t even read the cartoon Peanuts either.

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The phrase itself is neutral; the context of how I say it is when it differs from a plain mutter to a complete mode of venting my frustration. I don’t apply it to people as I did the word, “genius’, but rather I find this time my phrase habit is associated with my physical state. I run into the wall as I turn the corner: “Good grief” (muttered). I can’t get my bobby pins in my hair or my pants buttoned: “Good grief!” (with tone of frustration and a slight, ‘ugh’ added.) I spill something, drop something or can’t get something open: “Good grief” (sort of in whinny tone). These are just a few…but my reoccurrence of the phrase has me once and for all thinking in my mind: “Good grief…why can’t I stop saying this phrase?”

I have tried. Then I catch myself saying it again and it starts to play like a broken record in my mind. I am not sure how to break myself from this phrase habit. I have before with the others but this time since I am sincerely trying to stop the habit, I find it more continual. So as I read the Psalms yesterday, the thought dawned on me that if I see, read, hear, or write a phrase that a habit of saying it will be more likely to follow.

I may not walk around and say, “steadfast love” after every sentence, but it could very well be a map of a new habitual phrase. In seeking the continual reminder of God’s steadfast love, I hope to find that in the end all of my ‘good griefs’ will fade to where only His goodness remains.

Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.

Psalm 33:22 ESV

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July 25, 2013 · 1:16 pm

When I Grow Up

Do you remember sitting in elementary school and being asked the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Like an early career fair, sometimes you wrote a paragraph on the topic or discussed it in class when guest speakers came to relate their exciting tales of their specific job positions.

However, to be honest, I don’t ever remember someone specifically asking me this question (besides the classroom setting as a whole) or if I ever gave a specific answer. I have tried to think back to see if I can remember, but I think my career interests back then until the time I reached high school were merely daydreams. I do remember at a young age seeing an orchestra perform on television and that is when I decided I would someday learn to play the flute. When this turned into a reality, I then ventured to dream that I would play in an orchestra…maybe a famous soloist. Well, I did get my solo moments in concert band. We may not have been an orchestra, but I consider performing Georges Bizet’s songs from his opera Carmen a good try (plus it was my favorite solo moment.)

There were other daydreams. I had always wanted to be a singer in a band. I strummed my air guitar or keyboard as I jammed to the music. Being an over dramatic girl, I played the roles of Florence Nightingale or once pretended to be a doctor. I sat on the side of my bed, clip board in the left hand, and stared at my invisible patient. As I went on to explain how the eye is connected to the brain, my invisibility was intruded when my sister (unknown to me) walked in on my consultation. Yes, the eye is connected to the brain, and somehow that was the funniest scientific truth my sister had ever encountered.

It was not until high school that I started to take interest in careers that were more than daydreams. Once I discovered I had interest in the world of business, I filled my schedule with classes such as Accounting I and II, Marketing, computer courses (much has changed in technology since then!) and I jumped at the opportunity to be an editor of our school yearbook. After I graduated, my job at the local florist shop gave me experience in every area, with my favorite of handling the money transactions or office management, such as mail and filing. It came to no surprise then when I started college with an Accounting major in mind. After failing miserably on my mid-term in Accounting II, I realized that the subject was way over my head and focused my emphasis on Management instead.

The funny part about having a degree is that sometimes it pertains nothing to your current career. To make a living while finishing college, I worked as a cashier–even after graduating. I slowly gained responsibility and trained to be a cash officer, which ironically, resembles an accountant’s role minus taxes and payroll. I enjoyed this and for the first time felt I had “a career.”

I was crushed when I felt God calling me to end my career that I loved last October, but I see now that it was His timing as the winter brought all the health battles. By the time March rolled in, I was feeling myself again physically and was becoming bored. So I restarted job searching. I wrote once back in college, “Job hunting is like chasing a white rabbit in the snow.” My sister wrote me back and commented, “That’s a simile.” I don’t have any clever similes up my sleeve this time, but I will say that the search has been frustrating. Not because there are no jobs on the market, but because I am not physically what I was even two months ago and I guess I question what I can actually perform in the world of work.

I know work means many things–there is work where you get paid or you can volunteer your time and work to serve others, both being honorable positions as long as the motive in your heart is pure. Colossians 3:17 says, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” I enjoy the times of volunteering–even if it is just time spent with a friend on a lunch date. But I also have a desire to work and finally admitted I needed help in that process, so I contacted the Bureau of Vocational Rehabilitation. After being approved for their services, I had another meeting with them yesterday to continue the process.

I was still uneasy about the meeting, but over breakfast I did more brainstorming on different areas that I wanted to discuss with the counselor. As I finished my coffee, I set out to finish the last chapter in the devotional book I started about a month ago. God’s timing of words spoken to the heart never cease to amaze me. And so I read:

Out of all history, God chose this time for you to be on earth.

We may think back with regret on who we wish we’d been. We may look forward with fear about who we might (or might not) become. But the only place where we can offer ourselves, where God can use us, is the moment we’re in right now.

Gerth, Holley. You’re Already Amazing. Grand Rapids, MI: Revell, 2012. (180-181).

I may not kn0w my future career, or the timing of it how it will all come together, but I can rest assured…life is more than the aimless chasing of white rabbits in the snow.

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July 18, 2013 · 11:57 pm

When It’s Hot

We’re experiencing a heat wave here. Even our bike ride yesterday late evening left us in a sweat. So imagine today when we decided to take a stroll at John Bryan State Park around one in the afternoon. Yep…HOT!

The shade from the trees offered a bit of relief but there was nothing more satisfying than a cold drink of water (and I suppose having the AC on full blast too).

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Jeremiah 17:7-8 says, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.”

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It has now been two weeks since I started the Sirolimus chemo treatments. Thus far, the only side effects I have had are an increase of problems in the intestines (which also is a combination of tumor pressure) and my mouth is always dry! It feels like I am dehydrated even though I am drinking more. However, I have no mouth sores yet, in which I am very thankful!

When it’s hot, I take a drink of water and remember the life I have been given–through trials, an opportunity for growth; through pain, an opportunity to give thanks; through weariness, an opportunity to rest.

“And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” Isaiah 58:11

Treasure Falls

Treasure Falls 2

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DSCN2491 Treasure Falls, (Hwy 160, Colorado.) 24×48 canvas. July 2013.

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July 17, 2013 · 6:44 pm

Coloring Cupcakes

For my birthday this year, my sister sent me a flower muffin mold, icing, sticks, and edible markers. Although I had good intentions to use these, they sat on the cupboard shelf unused until a few weeks ago. My first attempt at the flowers was using brownies. The brownies were delicious~but they looked like they had been trampled upon in the garden. 😉

Since Megan was coming to visit, my next idea was cupcakes since I still had the unused frosting and markers. Last night we made our Funfetti cupcakes, added the frosting, and set them to dry. We colored them after lunch today, but in doing so it became quite clear: Mel paints on canvas, but cannot color cupcakes.

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DSCN2356 Yes, sad to say…these are mine.

DSCN2363 It must be something about coffee mugs. At least I had one that turned out somewhat artistic.

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Now that we decorated them, we get to eat them. And I don’t think taste buds hold regard for outer appearances. 🙂

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July 16, 2013 · 5:04 pm

Weekend Rewind…

How much fun can you fill in a weekend?

Let me recount the ways:

It all started when we picked up my sister this past Friday from the airport. Her visit has been anticipated for weeks! We did not give her much time to catch a breath as the first of festivities was Chic Fil A for dinner. Friday, July 12th, marked Chic Fil A’s annual “Cow Appreciation Day” in which you dress like a cow and get free chicken. Last year I had a harder time gathering a herd to come with me, but this year it was the complete opposite.

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After enjoying our meal, we headed back home for dessert: Whoopie pies!!! (Yes, I know…the irony of it but they were already made the day before when we had company for dinner). It was such a nice evening, we went out to the patio. Megan caught fireflies and we had some tea. We helped my mom pick the last of her green beans off the stalks and soon after called it a night.

Saturday started out relaxing. Around lunch we headed over to Beans-n-Cream to see my paintings then went to Stoney Creek Roasters for lunch.

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We ventured to Yellow Springs for a few hours and enjoyed the shops. I started to get tired at this point, but after a LifeWater and fruit snack, I regained some needed energy. When we got home, dinner was served out on the patio and then it was suggested that we spend the rest of the wonderful evening playing put-put golf at Young’s Jersey Dairy.

It was already eight pm when we started out the door for Yellow Springs (again). Right before we got to Young’s, there is a sunflower field. It was too pretty to pass up the opportunity for a few pictures!

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We arrived at Young’s and began our game right at the start of dusk. By the time we were about halfway through the course, it was dark. They have lights on the course but not all were working. Considering my balance already when it is dark plus bending half over to swing my putter and the randomness of put-put course hills, I did quite well. My strategy: Don’t look down, just hit the golf ball. Results: Par in 1. (Just once but it was so cool!) We had a system down in which when it was my turn, whoever had my golf ball would place it on the ground at the starting point. When I made it in the hole, someone would bend over and retrieve it for me. Instead of waiting on the curb, I most often stood on the grass course and just moved my feet if a golf ball came in my direction. I learned that the putter can be a used as a great cane when needed for balance and my family helped when needed too. It was a fun evening, and most of all, exciting to say that “I played put-put golf in the dark.”

Sunday I attended church with my family. There is no interpreter there, so as much as I tried lip-reading, the most I got out of the sermon was from the power point slides. The pastor spoke of God’s faithfulness. I couldn’t help but think of Third Day’s song “Your Love Oh Lord,” which is based on the verses in Psalm 36:

Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
your justice like the great deep.
You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light.

It was a reminder to me of God’s faithfulness in my life. I was able to think about this more as after lunch I finished a questionnaire for a research study on the social/psychological effects of living with profound hearing loss (or deafness). It was a lengthy endeavor that dug deep into the past–resurfacing memories and emotions…altered dreams. But it was good for me as well–to see the bigger picture since then and how God has brought me to this point in life of living with deafness.

Living with deafness also means when you go to a play (unless you have an interpreter), you don’t hear anything. To celebrate birthday festivities, my older sister and brother-in-law joined us that evening for the La Comedia Dinner and Theatre production of Peter Pan.

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We had an amazing meal (thanks to the waiter who went down and got my plate of food for me), amazing cheesecake (with “fairy dust” on top–aka sprinkles) and enjoyed a phenomenal performance!! We were close enough to see the lines that were attached to Peter Pan and the kids when they flew around the nursery.

Like I said, I could not hear anything. I take that back–I heard soft mumbling, but could not understand anything. Have you ever tried lip-reading at a play? It is not even worth it when you can enjoy watching facial expressions and actions on the floor anyway. I did, however, hear the drums when Princess Tiger Lily and her tribe did their dance. That was my favorite part. 🙂

And so our weekend came to a close–one week over, another about to begin.

What makes a fun-filled weekend so great?
Let me recount the ways: family.

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July 9, 2013 · 8:00 am

The end of my boy-band days

Since you are my friends, I will tell you a secret. After all, that is what friends do. I was in love. Yes, seventh grade and I knew I had found love. Every generation seems to have this love or at least the infatuation of the term: boy band. I don’t know much music history, but I am pretty sure this phenomena started before The Beetles.

My era was the Millennium. Yes, that was even the title of the best Backstreet Boys album. (Actually, the only one I ever listened to of their recordings.) Among the many during that time, I focused my obsession on the Christian pop boy band, Plus One. I saved up my allowance and bought their album The Promise on cassette tape. (Yes, cassette tape!!!) I memorized their songs, read the magazine articles, followed their Myspace, and daydreamed endless hours of meeting them in person. I never went to a concert.

Needless to say, by the time I reached high school, I had a little more self-control on my emotions. But I still listened their Christmas album for weeks after my surgery. Jason Perry could sing those high notes on “Oh Holy Night” so perfectly that I had no choice but to hit the back button and listen to it again.

Like all boy bands, there comes a day when they are no more. Your favorite decides to part their ways and seek other directions, much to the tears of the fans. I kept my copies of the cd’s but only listened to them here and there when cleaning my room or doing a workout. I never touched the cd’s in college. I hid my secret; only my RA and roommate knew as the song “Written on my Heart” came on over K-Love on our way to church. Now I am in the final stage: my cd’s are in the thrift store pile. I said goodbye to those cute little faces I had once been in love with–and that is that. (Ok, secret: I kept the cassette tape, only because it is a cassette tape. It is like an antique of my childhood days.)

– – –

I am not just saying goodbye to my boy band days. It has come to the point where listening to music is more frustrating (if I can even hear it) than it is enjoyable. But unlike the boy band tears, I am surprisingly unemotional about this predicament. Even more surprising that I found pure joy in deciding who would receive the last of my cd’s…to whom I bequeath the classics and oldies. (Secret: I kept one cd–Nancy Honeytree. She was the first of music I remember listening to as a child. I went to a concert and sang her songs in church. It is now added to my “Special Box” with the cassette tape.)

Sure, there are things about music that I miss being able to follow–like watching movies and hearing the soundtrack; jamming to the “oldies” in my car (but on long road trips, I substitute for a book in its place, read from the backseat and do just fine); or my favorite of falling asleep to the sounds of music. Honest thoughts here: this may all sound sad, terrible, or unfair–yes, it is all those things–but that is not what I feel. I am satisfied. I was brought to this point slowly. I think the change first started when I painted the simple bird for my dad’s birthday three years ago. Music is not out of my life entirely–I may not be able to physically hear it with my ears, but it is in me. It always has been. Always will be.

Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.

~Plato

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July 5, 2013 · 11:59 pm

The Next Chapter

Rainy days have strange effects on me. Some days it makes me groggy as I feel it in my body…especially my right hand. That was my yesterday. I even smashed my index finger that morning within the umbrella as I was closing it; I never felt a thing–just a small pinch but it was only when I looked down to see why the umbrella was not closing did I see my finger jammed.

Another rainy/cloudy day today, but completely opposite. Today was my motivation day. I went supply shopping: paints, paintbrushes, canvases and various add-ons for my upcoming paintings. Yellow Spring’s “Art on the Lawn” festival is only a month away. (More to come on that topic!)

Today I was focused on the broad spectrum of details and errands that needed to get done, even though my right hand seems a bit swollen and my arm is tense. Like an equation, I am not always that full of energy. Yesterday I just focused my attention on one thing at a time. My favorite being a book. I was achy with sick feelings in my intestines, so I made a cup of Chamomile tea and picked up where I left off in Through Gates of Splendor, by Elisabeth Elliot. I was determined to finish the last few chapters.

Growing up, we knew the story of these five missionaries. Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Ed McCully, Pete Fleming, and Jim Elliot who all followed God’s calling to show and communicate the love of Christ to those tribes in Ecuador that otherwise had no contact with the outside world. These men were at the time, the same age range that I am right now. I sat thinking of this…how these men gave everything for the Gospel. They were taking part of God’s plan to reach the nations, ultimately never seeing the fruit of their labor this side of heaven.

A few months after the deaths of these men, their story was recorded. The first copy of Elisabeth’s book was published in 1956. The edition I pulled off my parent’s bookshelf was the 25th anniversary edition, 1981. As I read the Epilogue II, I came across this conversation that Elisabeth had with Corrie Ten B0om:

“Sometimes,” she told me, “I have said, ‘L0rd, I must have something fresh. I cannot go on telling the old story.’ But the Lord said to me, ‘This is the story I gave you. You tell that one.'” So Corrie encouraged me to go on telling mine. (pg. 266)

And this encouraged me. I set out to write blog entries and feel like I am sharing the same story–repetitious. I want something new. But this is my story. and God wants me to tell it. So a new chapter to my story happened this week:

Tuesday evening I started my first dose of the chemo treatment, Sirolimus.  I take it every 12 hours. I have to be consistent with the time, so I chose to take it around the same time I take my other medicines.  So far I have had no side effects.

The chemo itself is very different from the other chemo treatments I have taken in the past. It does not feel like a chemo. Of course this is the first time I have had to keep medicine in the refrigerator…that could be part of it. The recommendation for taking the solution is to put it in a small 2 oz or so of orange juice stirring it a lot, drinking it and then drinking water or something afterwards. If it tastes the way Marcia says it smells, then I am double blessed as I can’t smell it nor does it change taste of my orange juice. Tonight I thought I would try the other recommendation for taking the medicine: in chocolate syrup. It was disgusting. I think I will just plan on drinking lots of orange juice for a while.

However, this chemo can cause mouth sores and so I have been given mouth care instructions to help prevent or treat these sores. First, a reward: I get an excuse to eat pudding, ice cream, applesauce, yogurt, ice cubes or pop sickles before and/or after as the cold and smooth will help prevent mouth sores. I have always been one for flossing and brushing my teeth after meals so that has not been a problem. They did give me a “recipe” for making my own mouthwash as I am no longer allowed to use store-bought ones due to the alcohol content used…even if it says “Alcohol free,” I am not chancing it.

My diet is much the same as it was before, except now I am a bit more cautious on going and getting that white mocha, as I am to watch my sugar intake. God must still want me to learn self-control. There are a few others on the list that I need to watch–eating red meats (which I don’t do often anyway), watch the different fats in dairy products and limit egg yolks to 3 a week; egg whites are fine. They warn against eating spicy foods as they can cause sores. I need to drink lots of cold fluids, eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, and get enough fiber. Even if I wasn’t taking this chemo, it is good eating habits to follow.

I am thankful right now that my body has been tolerating the treatments and will just have to take it one day at a time. I will have labs done every week and my first clinic visit to Children’s is at the end of the month. Do I think chemo is working? I don’t even think I can honestly answer that. My body changes from day-to-day. I note more aches or strains, more numbness or bad balance. There are always things at the back of my mind or new physical challenges to overcome.

My story is not yet complete. I know this. Some chapters seem to fly and others seem to drag on endlessly. Some pages make me laugh, some leave me in suspense and others make me cry. Like reading any book, you have to turn the page at some point to continue reading. If I focus on only one page full of th0se physical sufferings, I will never get to the ending or get to share the new things learned with you. I might just find out that the best part is only a few pages over.

*Elliot, Elizabeth. Through Gates of Splendor. Wheaton, Illinois: Living Books (Tyndale House Publishers), 1981.

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July 4, 2013 · 11:58 pm

“Writing Letters on the Veranda”

I like to write. Anything from handwritten cards, typing emails, thoughts in a journal or “to do” lists, taking notes during church or blog entries–writing is something I enjoy. I was the odd student that celebrated when term finals was a twenty page research paper or when essays on tests were a major percentage of the grade. When writing I get to think. It is a conversation on paper.

I think writing flows in my blood. My mom is a role model for what I love in writing. I watch her journal at the kitchen table and admire how she is not just writing but adding color and imagery to the text. Every month she writes cards for all the occasions–birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, get well, sympathy, thank you, thinking of you–to all members of the family, extended family, or close friends. And Mom has the prettiest handwriting.

Yesterday was my writing day. I had momentum. First agenda: I finished all my drafts in my email inbox, much to my hand’s delight. I should have paced myself, because by the time I reached Stoney Creek Roasters for an afternoon tea to accompany finishing some snail mail, my right hand was about ready to call it a day.

But it was worth it. It may not have been a “veranda”, but I was able to sit by the window and look out at the luscious greenery by the creek and write.

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My right hand has become very numb. There are things that are getting more difficult to do and holding a pen firm to write is one of them (sometimes just holding a pen in general depending on size). Last fall, we purchased this tool to help me hold a pen and write. At the time I did not essentially need it so I kept it in the cup of other pens on my nightstand. About a month ago, I reorganized my room including the nightstand corner. I was switching the cup to an old souvenir mug and remember taking this pen holder out because it was too big. Last I remember is setting it on my bed with a few books before I put it somewhere I reasoned to be a good spot for later use. And I don’t recall where that spot is. Thus, at the time I need it most, it is lost.

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Probably a combination of my perfectionism with the sloppy handwriting, my “to do” lists or sometimes letters are sent to the trash can as I start over trying to write with more legibility. Last night, my hands were tired but on my way to bed I knew if I did not write down that I needed more orange juice for taking chemo doses that I would forget. I still forgot what it was when I looked at my sticky note this morning. I stood there like I was reading a riddle…”small..”‘–ok, what did I need that was small? It took me a few minutes but then I remembered what it was that was so scribbled. Small OJ. I threw the sticky note in the trash and wrote a different one.

Life can be like a scribbled sticky note of agendas. In trying to write out my story so perfectly of agendas, I see myself crumple the paper and restart the whole process over again…each time attempting to grasp the pen I write with just a little tighter. But my hands grow weak and I have to let go of the pen. It is only when I have complete surrender that God can post His notes to my heart reminding me (again) that my life is worth more than my own scribbled, crumpled sticky notes. It is a novel being tenderly written just for me.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9

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June 30, 2013 · 5:26 pm

Confidence

This morning was one of those mornings. Not that I got started off with the wrong foot, but definitely the wrong shoes! I should start paying closer attention to my gut feeling that says, “This is not going to work.” Now I like to be optimistic, but that little voice inside tried to warn me that the dress I was trying on in the Target fitting room was too small. “It’s so cute, I want to try it anyway.” I get stuck. Thankfully my Mom was shopping with me that day. Lesson learned (at least for shopping).

You would think from my Cinderella shoe experience that I would have learned to follow signs that it might not be a good day to wear certain shoes. Think again. The cause: they completed my Sunday morning outfit (even to the choice of earrings). The effect: I was tripping in them even before I left the house. “If I walk slow I will do fine.” Even slow was not working. I get to the church door and the man who greeted me acted calm but I wonder what he was actually thinking. I said, “Good morning!” Then tripped and said, “Stupid shoes.” I never fell, but on the way out of church I was having such a hard time, I just slipped off my shoes and went barefoot to the car. The shoes are now in the thrift store pile. As cute as they are, they just have to go.

This morning, the message was on Psalm 16; “A Psalm of Confidence.” On the drive home, I was thinking of how the message was exactly what I needed to hear in encouragement and truth that “Confidence in the Lord means that I trust Him regardless.” It was like preparation for the days to come.

As I am still thinking, before you know it, one of my favorite movies comes to mind: Rogers & Hammerstein’s The Sound of Music. It could have been my shoe experience or emphasis on the word, “confidence,” but I started to laugh as I could picture Maria (played by Julie Andrews) singing and doing her fancy feet work in the song, “I Have Confidence.”

http://www.rnh.com/videos.html?video=109&gallery=170&vpg=7

[Fancy feet – 2:30; my feet – 3:46] 🙂

I definitely don’t trust my feeble ankles or my shoes to preserve me when I walk, but I have confidence in the One who is able: “I have set the Lord always before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.” Psalm 16:8

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