This is life right now: my life.
It has taken on a visceral quality so that I find myself often
referring to “the guts of life” these days.
Life has become untidy and
wretched with emotion, heightened senses, and amplified feelings. Here you will
read my snippet of real life. As it has been months since I last blogged, let me back up to
a few months back.
I won’t forget driving home from work, talking with Mom, the
specific March evening this Spring that she told me about her spinal compression
fractures. I was on the straight stretch
of open road as Mom told me the x-ray results.
My initial thoughts were, “This is good, I know that Osteoporosis causes
compression fractures. Osteoporosis can
be treated.” But then she continued to fill in the gap that she had had a very
good bone density reading about a year ago.
As much as I tried to make that still fit an Osteoporosis diagnosis in
my mind, it wasn’t possible. And so I
asked, “What are they querying?” “Cancer.”
She replied.
During those days of awaiting a diagnosis it was best if I
kept busy, otherwise there was a continual loop of scenarios and diagnoses that
would run through my mind. In my gut and
with the evidence before me, I knew it had to be a malignant rogue enemy
destroying Mom’s spine; but, it wasn’t yet certain. After a few days I couldn’t handle it, and so
I made arrangements for a week off work and prepared for my family to make the
journey to Swift Current for us to be with Mom and Dad. At least then I could help practically and
ensure there was a full meal on the table at dinnertime. When we arrived Mom’s height loss was clear,
her stature was hunched, and her pain was evident.
That week I accompanied Mom to an appointment for the result
of her bone scan which had been done in light of her compression fractures. “It’s cancer.” The doc said. Mom and I took the news in stride. No big blow, no tears. Isn’t it what we expected? Yet there it was: certainty. After that appointment Mom needed to have her
pain-killers filled at the pharmacy. We
did “normal” pharmacy business; but, normal had just taken a sharp turn for
us. (Here my eyes opened to the reality
of my own patients’ potential experiences prior to entering my pharmacy.)
I thought this diagnosis was what I was waiting for. Living in the moment, I didn’t realize that
the next question is “what’s the prognosis?”
I was certain this meant metastasized breast cancer, from the breast
cancer mom had 2 years prior, even though Mom was assured they had got it all. So, I researched how this could be; but, kept
thinking that at least breast cancer has good treatment options. That same visit to Swift Current I was able to
accompany my parents to Mom’s first visit (this go around) to the Cancer Center
in Regina. Here the oncologist told us it was not metastasized breast cancer, it
was a different yet to be diagnosed cancer.
At this point I learned the internet is not always helpful. I know enough to utilize reputable internet
sources, but when you don’t have the right questions, you can’t find the right
answer and I certainly didn’t like some of the answers I was finding. So, I stopped looking for answers and I
started hoping and praying for TIME.
Like many people in our culture, I struggle with the currency of time
and over these days this commodity became precious like pure gold.
I scrambled to organize a family gathering with my sister
and her family (from Okotoks, AB), as she was imminently expecting her 4th
child and I had this burning need for all of us to be together because what if
Mom’s time became numbered in days?
Ryan, Rayna and I journeyed again from Chilliwack to Swift Current, this
time driving there in one day, so we could all gather for 1 and ½ days over
Mother’s Day. It was lovely, there was no place else I wanted to be on that
Mother’s Day. And lovelier still was the
days leading to Mother’s Day. Mom had
been hospitalized in Regina, and put in a neck brace for fear of spinal cord
damage. But in those days in the hospital came the long awaited answer: Multiple
Myeloma. Not curable but treatable and a
primary cancer.
All along this road God has been answering prayer. I praise God for the safety of Mom’s spinal
cord. I am so thankful for the rides,
the prayers and the meals from Mom and Dad’s church community. I am kilometers away, but I know Mom and Dad
are cared for and indeed I feel prayed for too in those moments I’ve needed it
most. And can I introduce my Father to
you? My Dad is relaxed, motivated, and thriving in his humor-filled self.
Praise God that in Mom’s illness Dad’s health is incomparable to how I’ve
perhaps, ever, seen it in the past.
Mom has responded well to her chemo and she had a stem-cell
transplant at the beginning of September in Saskatoon. Ryan, Rayna and I travelled to be with her in
Saskatoon during this time. On many
levels this was a challenging week and a half; but, that experience clarified
to me what “being human” is all about. I
lived out what it is to simply be present.
(I am so thankful for all those who enabled me to be just that, present,
with my Mom: Brad and Ashley for graciously letting us live with them, my
husband for fully supporting me by caring for Rayna and never complaining in
his tiring days, the work of prayer which allowed no problem getting time off
work and which held off illness in our family until our return to
Chilliwack). I was there when my Mom hit
a low physically and emotionally. It was
as “real” as life gets. I had no words
for Mom to encourage her. But I don’t
think I failed by simply being
there. And I learned volumes on the
human experience. To be honest, in those
10 days in Saskatoon I didn’t so much as utter a prayer. Thank you, for those who interceded on my
(and my family’s) behalf.
This is where the “right now” of what I’ve been learning
picks up. It felt good to return home
from Saskatoon. The three of us were
tired and it was good to find a rhythm that September seems to naturally bring
with it. Yet, in these days a sensation,
a feeling was beginning to well in my gut.
“What next?” It asked. We’re
through this now, Mom’s stem cell transplant.
Mom will heal from this stem cell transplant and she should be entering
years of remission, God willing. But,
what next, when her rogue enemy returns?
These thoughts were just beginning to simmer when God spoke clearly and
pointedly (but not necessarily concisely, so bear with me). At lunch I came across a conversation on
Facebook about euthanasia and the views of Kara Tippetts, a Christian woman
with a young family living with terminal cancer, were highlighted by one of my
friends. I read them out of interest for
that topic’s sake. Then as I was about
to go to bed I noticed a different friend, from a different circle all together
had posted about Kara Tippetts’ story as aired on Focus on the Family and it
was nothing to do with euthanasia. Now
that I knew who she was I was interested.
God spoke through Kara who highlighted that when we portray ourselves
into the future we tend not to think of the element of God and His grace being
with us there. Those moments ahead that
we wish were not coming- we have to remember that God WILL show up in those
moments. She cited Proverbs 1:33 which I
splice here from 2 different translations : “But those who listen to me will
live in peace and safety, unafraid of harm and [without dread of destruction].”
How was that for a reply to the emotion I was feeling? Of course at this point I was reminded of
Matthew 6:34 “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own
worries. Today’s trouble is enough for
today.”
But, God didn’t stop here.
He kept speaking. Five days later
I was tired in the morning. I had made a
commitment the week prior that I would full out strive for at least 3 days a
week of quiet reflection/devotional time.
Since becoming a working Mom my fitness regime has been drastically
toned down. However, apart from illness
or major extenuating circumstances I hold firm to 3 solid work-outs per
week. It’s just the way it is. 1 Timothy 4:8 states “Physical exercise has
some value, but spiritual exercise is much more important for it promises a
reward in both this life and the next.” In
light of this verse I determined I could certainly commit to 3 days a week of
spiritual exercise. It was hard to honor
my commitment that morning. I was very tired and probably really only gave 8
minutes that day; but, God showed up.
All I mustered that morning was a journalled prayer:
Fill me full, slow me down.
Breathe. Breathe true life into this body. Still me so I can reflect on Your beauty, on
the day before me, so I can hear the Spirit.
So I’m not just rushing through to get things done. So I can engage. So I can experience in full senses the
moments of today. So I can find the
small moments of thankfulness and can ponder the beautiful gifts I have in my
life. Still me, so I can remember my
humanity. So I can remember that on my
own I will wear out, but with the Saviour alongside me, with the Holy Spirit as
my help-mate, I can do all things [because] He strengthens me. And so I need your peaceful touch to be set
apart from the race of this life. Today
I want to engage. Today I want to hear you, Spirit. Today I want to walk, not
run, in tune with the Father’s voice.
Quite a lovely prayer as I reread it. But again it was as I was driving home from
work that God used my prayer to speak to me.
I usually listen to our Christian radio station which plays Focus on the
Family at 9PM. So on my 10 minute drive home, the radio show which actually was
speaking about marriage building, used the work “engage” a couple times. It gave me a flash of my prayer from the
morning and so I circled the word ENGAGE in my journal from that morning.
The next day I was thinking of this idea of engaging in the
present day. It made me think of the
Francis Chan study on the Holy Spirit that I’ve been working through with my
“girls’ group.” The most recent study
had been discussing that we needn’t elucidate the big-picture plan that God has
in place for us; but rather, we ought to focus on listening for what the Holy
Spirit is prompting us to do today.
I went for a run that morning, my coveted Thursday morning
solo run. As I was wrapping up my run
Psalm 118:24 came to mind: “THIS is the day that the LORD has made; let us
rejoice and be glad in it.” And that was
the emphasis that reeled through: THIS is the day. Not yesterday, not years away. Today.
THIS day.
I proceeded to read the whole chapter of Psalm 118 and
started to lose my high of this great verse speaking into my circumstance as
the Psalmist claimed the triumph the Lord had given him after he was surrounded
on all sides, but came out victorious.
And I thought, “yeah, I’d sing ‘This is the day we need to rejoice in’
too if that happened to me.” But, “no,”
came the quick reply, “doesn’t God conquer battles in our everyday lives if we
let Him?”
So, in one week I went from beginning to dread and fear the
future, to being refocused to Today, to not worry about tomorrow, but to engage
in today, THIS glorious day where God will be present, because that is what He
has promised.
I think my Mom learned these lessons awhile ago. I will never forget the beautiful moment we
shared during my first visit the morning after the diagnosis came. It was early(ish) morning. Rayna and I were
awake and Mom came to join us for breakfast.
We sat in the kitchen, Rayna playing on the floor, Mom and I at the
table and I broke. I couldn’t keep it
together, I began to weep. My Mom stood
and came to give me a hug. I met her and
reached down and hugged this now fragile woman and she said to me, “It’s going
to be okay.” It’s going to be okay. Fill in the gaps and you hear it: “Cancer is
aggressively attacking my body, but it’s going to be okay.” “I don’t know the number of days the doctors
may place on my life, but it’s going to be okay.” “My body will never be the same again, even if
I beat this, but it’s going to be okay.”
Indeed these last few months I have encountered the nasty
and the beautiful guts of real life through my own experiences and those of
friends near. This is really what life’s
all about. Our culture seeks pleasure
and elusive happiness. But life is full
of disaster and mishaps and loss and rogue enemies of the cancer variety and
otherwise. So in all this and all I have
learned in my own brush with stark humanity I share Jesus’ incomparable solace
to us:
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have
overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
To close I have two asides.
Firstly and simply, (not inherent in the living in the present
mentality) there is value in planning (indeed I am a natural planner); but, all
plans are ultimately in God’s hands. I have
learned this in the past (read my previous blogs – it was a big shocker when I
realized I didn’t actually have the reigns of my “family planning”) and again I
am learning every good gift is from the Lord and I cannot garner them on
my own might. Secondly, I committed 3
mornings to quiet times and with that commitment I realize what I was really
saying is, “I am committed to you God and to hearing You” and then God began
speaking into my days. I understand the
constraints on time. Last summer I struggled
to know how possibly to create such time as I was working and my daughter was
rising at 6 AM daily. But, I see how as
I opened myself and committed myself God spoke as I ran, God spoke as I drove
home from work. God spoke. (Because to
be honest I feel meek that 3 mornings is all I can muster, but God understands
our realities.) Come wherever you are,
with whatever time you have, ready to hear God speak. And He will.
