Advent Letter 2018

Advent finds me.  She finds me weeping and wondering, broken and whole, hurting and healed all co-mingling in the mystery that is Jesus.

Is this Christmas season far from "Christmas-perfect" for you? Is your journey towards Christmas messy, ugly, difficult, seemingly impossible?  Mine is. If yours is too, I invite to accept the gift that ugly and beautiful are NOT mutually exclusive.  I invite you to accept the gift that in the messy, painful, angry, and impossible, Hope and Joy can still be found and coexist with it all.

It is in the gift of these "co-minglings" that Advent finds me with a Joy that accepts the realities of the day (no matter how rotten they are) but chooses to look with gratitude towards the glimpse s of Hope tucked into each day as i slow down and keep my eyes and ears and hearts open.  

Here is my Advent journey this year.  Not at all concise.  Not at all a pretty gift wrapped up in a perfect bow.  But this Advent journey of mine is rich and good and beautiful.  Come join me:

I entered Advent looking, seeking for more of God’s glory.  On earth as it is in heaven.  Our church’s sermon series is “here comes heaven.”  Bright, shiny, optimistic!  Let’s replace despair with Hope!  These are words I tout from my blog over and over.  These are words I believe whole hearted. They are pretty, and they are perfect, and they are inspiring.

 However, I am realizing that these words have an underbelly that must be addressed.  The hope of Christ is not a perfectly shiny packaged gift with an extravagant perfectly crafted bow. Yes it is a simple (and beautiful) gift to receive (by simply believng): but, the journey of opening it is an arduous one wrought with the challenges of being human.

Advent. 

Being expectant.  A season of waiting.  The “not yet”.  Looking towards the unknown.

I went to an advent retreat yesterday (1).  This retreat highlighted the journeying surrounding advent in the scriptures.  Angels journeying to Mary and Joseph and Zechariah.  Mary journeying to Elizabeth and Jechariah’s place.  Mary and Joseph journeying to Bethlehem.  The journey into the unknown.  The journey of the impossible -  immaculate conception.

As I learn more and more about my personality, I uncover that as a performance driven perfectionist I am not very in tune with my emotions.  I’ve always known that I’m not a terribly emotional woman.  I didn’t realize until recently that I wear this as my armour.  Brene Brown says perfectionism is a 20 ton shield. (2)  It hides the shame and fear.  I am on a journey towards dismantling my shield, to lightening my load.  A journey towards understanding myself better.  Understanding who God has made me to be: gifts, talents, strengths…. weaknesses.  Oh those weaknesses!(3)  It’s a tedious and not so pleasant journey.  It forces me into the ugly that I’ve become proficient in either running from or smoothing over with a perfect, pretty bow of achievement and efficiency.   I don’t like opening up the pretty package and getting my hands in the junk (sh#t) within. 

One station at the Advent retreat was contemplation at the manger crèche: an empty nativity scene.  As I look at the manager crèche, perfection slips away.  I am overcome by the ugliness of it! A stable to give birth in?!!  A manger to place a babe in?!!  Think about this place in detail, allow time for the luster of Christmas “beautification” to fade.  Here is a drafty, stinky building, most certainly filled with live animals and sh#t.   Not the picture perfect place to birth your first child!  This advent season is allowed to be messy because look at this very manager image: it is messy!

As I incredulously contemplate this Jesus whispers to me, “Yes’ Cheryl, I was birthed in “imperfection” to bring perfection.

I recoil, because I like matters to be shiny and perfect.  How do I process, this?

Slowly I begin to see it:  the ugly and the beautiful co-mingle.  This manger scene.  Beautiful and ugly swirled inseparably.

And I begin to think of the cross of crucifiction.  This is a gory scene.  Ugly and gruesome.  Yet, it too is beautiful.

Within me I hear permission, “it is ugly, Cheryl, it’s okay to scream at life’s imperfections! Its okay to scream at life’s unfairness! It’s okay to scream at the downright awfulness of it all!”  It’s okay to scream at my cancer diagnosis and everything that has unraveled.

I see I have not allowed my anger of grief to sing her song yet.  And I see I must do this to keep pressing in, to pressing forward into living.  To keep pressing forward into Hope.

So here it goes:

Journal excerpt Nov. 7/18

The flux between stages of grief is confusing and complex and makes me feel like I don’t have a place.  I dance between denial, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and anger.  Yes anger I will name you.  It’s a funny thing hard to describe.  Hoping and pressing into hope is unsettling when acceptance resurfaces-  acceptance that this is what my life looks like, stage 4 brain cancer diagnosis and prognosis and all and the potential realities.

These questions: What if I only have 3 more years to live? (an arbitrary amount of time that surfaced after reading about a 5 year glioblastoma survivor)  If that’s the case what do I want to prioritize?

And this: I have glimpsed Jesus so intimately, I have touched his cloak and it was magnificent, that fear truly does evaporate because I know within my core that no matter what all will be well.

But: How do I belong in this world when I’ve begun to enjoy “normal” again – running with a dear friend, soccer, doing Christmas: buying gifts, planning, celebrating.   But I am so far from normal.  I look normal and can pretend well that I am normal but underneathe there is always this which is so NOT normal:

DIAGNOSIS.

I feel like an expat not truly at home in my native country (“the non-cancer world”)  but not truly at home in my new country (“the cancer world”).

How do I deal with the dance between enjoying life and being optimistic and being aware of the monster they say lurks in my body?

How do I choose priorities when death could be imminent, but I’m pressing into Hope that it’s not.

These are my struggles

My uncle is dying from MS and this breaks my heart.  His daughter, my cousin, has always been my dear friend.  His youngest grandchild just a babe.  And I rally against God in the too soon of his body failing him. Anger for him.  Anger for me.

Yes it is anger.  I will finally name her for what she is.

The questions: Why? Why me? Oh God why me?

I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS!

God do you not see my hopes and plans?

God do you not see my love for you?

God do you not see my husband? My children?

Oh God preserve my life.  Oh God give me a long life.

Oh God do you see me?  Do you see me! Do you see me ?!

(the whisper response): I see you.

Please heal me, I whisper back.

So what shall I do in all of this?

What shall I do?

I lean into the words of Katie Davis Majors and I choose to dare to hope. I join with her as she says,

“"Maybe courage is trusting when we don't know what is next, leaning into the hard and knowing that it will be hard, but more, God will be near.

Maybe bravery is just looking fear in the face and telling it that it does not win because we have known the Lord here.

Though we tremble and feel uncertain, courage means we press into a God who is certain, sure, steady. He carries us; He lifts our heads. And His unfailing love and comfort become our courage and our hope.

Katie continues, “"It is a brave thing to hope, to continue in hope,..."Chin up, love."(God) whispers. "Hold on to that hope.  Eyes on me dear one. I am not done yet." (4)

Yes, I choose to dare to hope.

(ps.  All this took place on a Sat AM before soccer practice.)

End of  journal excerpt

At my advent retreat I participated in 2 labyrinth exercises.  The handout I was given states “A labyrinth is a tool for prayer whereby a person follows a path in prayerful silence to a centre.  It is a living representation of our life journey from birth to death to new life in God” 

These are 2 images an image of an outdoor labrynith similar to the one I walked on Saturday and an image of a paper labyrinth I began coloring.  These experiences were surprisingly fruitful for me.  First I sat and colored a labyrinth.  It was annoyingly tedious. Then I walked the Labryinth, it was frustratingly tedious as well: just let me get there. Here are my responses to my labyrinth experiences.

As I return to Mary and advent I see an arduous journey demanding courage and hope.  A journey of pressing into the unknown, the waiting though it seems fruition is not coming.  Pressing into the journey while I’m screaming “Enough God. Enough, I’ve had enough!” And God whispering, “press on child.”

the Joy is in the journey,

I am not a God of “efficiency”

Stand at the watchtower and wait

Mary’s arduous advent journey.  Putting words in her mouth to echo my own I hear “a long donkey ride while pregnant?! Are you kidding me?!” and “This is taking freaking forever!!!”

But God replies, “My gift is… forever.” 

---------------------BREATHE------------------------------

And to my performance driven perfectionist self:

Slow down.  Enjoy the journey.  Lengthen your days by being present in them.

Like Mary chose to say, “Yes”, to being Jesus’s mother I say “yes” to being present in the ugly, in the pain, in the unknown, NOT rushing to find certainty (that does not exist); but finding beauty right where I am.

And I see this is what hope and courage mean  ----  not waiting for the rescue in angst, but realizing that the rescue is actually in THIS moment, every moment – God with me –through the ugly, broken, stinky mess that life is.  God with me: good news that brings great joy.  Good news and great joy that exist even when the impossible of life comes around and trys to steal this good news and great joy.  Good news and great joy because nothing is impossible for God. 

I’ve been warring with my diagnosis this past week as I await MRI results.  I sat in church service this morning very much in need of a HUGE dose of hope.  In need of being reminded, passionately reminded, that I have a God who gives hope. Our pastor this morning reawakened the hope I need to keep pressing on in this arduous journey.  He preached that when the angels spoke to Mary “nothing is impossible with God” the angels offer not an announcement; but rather an invitation.  An invitation to say yes, like Mary, to step into the impossible trusting God to make it possible.  An invitation to step into “holy boldness” and courage. Step by step believing that God is bigger than my impossible.  SO much bigger. (5)

This is where advent finds me this year.

To close, an Advent poem voicing the longings of my heart to see cancer destroyed in my body that I may raise my children and more.  Please join me in prayer for the impossible to be realized in my life.  Thank you.

My Holy Assignment: an advent poem

By Cheryl Rostek

My Holy assignment is to love my children

The best I know how.

To open my heart.

Tender

Broken

Loving. Oh so loving.

Wanting to protect these precious babes.  

My gifts.

So pure.

To Hope so boldly

Pressing in to the

Unknown.

Bravely.

With all my guts

Yearning

Praying

Believing

That there is a horizon of

Good

Love

Joy

Peace

Life

In this mysterious (scary)

Journey.

Oh God rain down blessing on this

My holy assignment.

______________

(1) Advent Retreat hosted  by Lorie Martin, loriemartin.com

(2) https://youtu.be/cvhgOr1Mcrk

(3) I watched “A wrinkle in time” with my 6 year old this past week when she was home sick.  I loved this movie.  I read the book years ago and didn’t think too much of it : too much fantasy and stuff that didn’t make sense to me.  As I watched the movie 25 years older I have much appreciation for the fantasy, for the “doesn’t make rational sense.”  In the story Meg is told that her weaknesses is her gift.  I am on the journey of discovering my weaknesses.  I hope that as I unwrap them, that God will grant me the ability to see how my weaknesses can serve me as a gift.  I think Paul’s words in the bible verse 2 Cor 12:9: [God] said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.

(4) Daring to Hope, By Katie Davis Majors.

(5) http://www.firstave.org/listen , at time of posting sermon not posted online yet but I’m sure it will be- sermon 1 in series “here comes heaven”

What I learned on my summer vacation: Identity, Motherhood, and Womanhood

Photo Credit: Vicky Falk

(Post written Sept 2018)

Jesus says that in Him, I am enough.  So to the lies that lurk around trying to make me question my value and identity, I say, “ENOUGH!!!”.

I learned so much this summer that I actually created an outline of what I want to share in my blog posts this fall.  This post was to be about the importance of my role of mothering; but as the days press on into Sept and more challenges arise I realize it is so much more than just my role as a mother, it is about the entirety of my identity.  I know that I have written about my struggle with identity this spring; but it keeps coming up.  What I thought I had learned already, I realize will be a lifelong learning journey and already in the past 2 weeks what I thought I had learned morphs into something bigger.

I’ll start at the beginning.

I feel like I’m in the middle of an identity crisis.  I’ve written (see post: Identity from June) about no longer knowing who I am and feeling like even if I get a glimpse of who I am now, I question, is it enough?  The loss of my career struck me hard and deep.  I’ve had trouble letting go (*1); but it’s more than just letting go.  I did not realize how deeply I tied my identity to my career, how it served as a self-created metric of my life-performance and more.  In my journal I wrote this:

“It’s hard to let go of my career, because I do not know who I am without it.  I have been performance and accomplishment driven for my entire life.  Who am I when I just…am?” 

Then here’s the rub,

“Am I lovable, worthy of admiration and affection as I just am?”

After I realized this was the question I fell into my husbands arms weeping, honestly imploring him if he still loved me just as much now that I was no longer a (working, producing, capable) pharmacist.

Of course he does; but I needed to hear it from his lips to be sure.

Thank God for my dear friend Amy, who in her own parallel challenges has become the most kindred and cherished friend.  Amy and I share a driven determination in academics, career, mothering and faith in Jesus.  Though our challenges are different Amy has been a treasured and faithful friend who “gets it” and speaks wisdom into my life.  This summer our brief encounter at the playground as our kids played meant more than I can express.  Following this playdate Amy wrote me these words (printed with permission):

“God knowing intimately all your interests, abilities, education and gifts (which are considerable) has given you the task of loving and raising your family right now.  Trust his wisdom that that is what both they and you need most right now.”

With this affirmation from Amy I pressed into fall with a new sense of my identity.  This is what I wrote in my journal:

“My “job” this fall is to love my family well, to begin cutting through the anxiety(*2) the trauma of my diagnosis created, and to engage wherever I find myself in my neighborhood, my city, in conversations.  Creating spaces to interact with others, to engage in the battles that others are fighting: for their benefit and my own.    

To learn I am still valuable even it I am not “accomplishing”; to live out my very beliefs of valuing life simply because it’s life; and to live out the beauty of life lived generously in relationship (where currency is not money, but rather time and quality, care and emotional involvement that can hurt in a way that gives life.)

THESE are my jobs and they are so worthy a calling!”

This post was supposed to be about my journey to finding the beauty and value of this new call and of mothering.  Certainly, I’ve found myself able to engage more deeply with my kids because I’ve cut away the internal scorn I felt in being “only” mom.  I’ve found deep satisfaction in being present and engaged in their little lives.  I’ve been able to allow these experiences with my children (positive and negative) to warm my soul.  This has been a step forward to embracing my life as it is today and making the most of what today has for me.  And truly this has been beautiful and worth celebrating!  Little moments of delight have begun to feel monumental.  This is where I thought this post would end: re-embracing the importance of mothering.

However a decades-old setback reared her head into my life again: self-esteem crisis.  Honestly, I was rather blind-sided, but awakened, by this emotional crash this week. In the midst of seeking to live optimistically my identity crisis returned as a self-esteem crisis.  This has provided me with “aha!” revelations. 

This all came to a head following a hair-cut.  My hair feels like it’s a really awkward length, I’m so ready for it to be to the next stage, you know, longer.  Well my hair was driving me nuts.  I hadn’t had a haircut for a few months, so I thought “a hair cut will fix how I feel about my appearance!”  My lovely and talented sister-in-law has been cutting my hair since it started growing back post-radiation.  She cut my hair again giving it more style (as I had hoped, you know freshening it up while I grow it out.).  It ended up a bit shorter in the back than I had expected – but with great “shape”.  Really I wish my hair were longer overall, no fault of the haircut, that’s just me wishing my hair to grow faster!  However, my absolutely wonderful husband does not like my haircut.  He bumbles around talking about it, trying not to say the wrong thing and it’s kinda humorous.  Usually I’d be able to say, “So what if he doesn’t like my haircut this time.”  This time I can’t.  I cry in private and I am discouraged.  And I question again, my value, my identity and is it enough?

Really it’s not the haircut, that was simply the precipitating factor; but, this is indeed a real struggle.  I’m sure every woman reading this will nod her head in agreement; we’ve all had self-esteem struggles (*3).  As I wait for my hair to grow and as I wait for my heart to believe what I keep trying to affirm with my head (that I am beautiful, that I am valuable, that I am treasured NO MATTER WHAT) I am reminded of Habakkuk climbing into the watchtower and waiting for God’s response.  Waiting expectantly.  Hair growth takes much time.  I’m starting to get mighty impatient with growing out my hair.  The optimistic, “I’ll make the most of losing my hair to cancer treatments and have fun with my hair as it grows” is getting old.  Here I must be deliberate as Habakkuk was.  I must deliberately, daily climb into my watchtower and wait, patiently but expectantly.  Wait to see how God will respond, how God will show up.  Because show-up he will and I want to be ready!  I have to choose not to be deceived by the lies that are trying to pierce me like arrows, deflating the purpose God has for me.  Though these days it is work to believe I am God’s beautiful creation, I choose to press into this work until my heart again believes.  Life is far from passive.  Each day I choose to hope in God, I choose to believe in the beauty he has created in me and surrounding me, I choose to open my eyes to the blessing surrounding me so I can come to the watchtower expectant.  This is difficult work.  

Circling back to my newfound priority role of mothering I see clearly the importance of this difficult work.  How can I teach my girls their true value if am not working on sorting out my own?  Furthermore, I want to be a voice for my girls; but also for all women.  In showing here my struggle for confidence, for strength I want to be a voice to help men understand the struggles we as women face.  I believe there are many wonderful men who are truly loving, caring, compassionate men (like my husband) who do not understand the “female battle.”  I believe we are doing a disservice to our husbands, especially the fathers of our daughters, if we do not vulnerably share our struggles.  In the same breath I ask husbands to open-mindedly seek to understand your wives.  So as a mother desiring the best for my children, I will share my heart here.

A year or so ago I wrote this (I reference the following image):

Driving to church this image that I saw on Facebook popped into my head. I was on the verge of falling apart; driven by the exhaustion of having 3 sick kids on top of our just barely manageable daily life.  This was too much.  When I first saw this post I thought, " this is poignant truth.". And I was compelled to affirm the one who posted it, to affirm, I've been there, I see you, and you are beautiful, lovely, and treasured.

I take the time today to write out these words because this image needs to be understood.  I have so very many wonderful, emotionally healthy men in my life- topping the list with my husband and my dad.  I am at a tremendous advantage in this regard, and yet I too struggle with elements of these shame-filled thoughts.  My husband is completely baffled and can't even grasp how these emotions of insecurity and shame could even possibly be present in my life.  This is my amazing, supportive, loving, wise husband (God bless him!) who can't capture a sense of what women face.  So I write these words to try to bring light to this struggle. I write not because I am educated in the subject- far from it. I can only write my experience and try to be a leader in giving women courage to voice their stories.  I write this because my brain cancer diagnosis says I will not be there to help my husband navigate with MY girls when preteen, teen, young-adult, adult, motherhood challenges come.

Women have unique struggles.

The world tells us we are not enough- we are not thin enough, we are not beautiful enough.  There is a constant struggle to feel worthwhile.  Girls struggle to feel that they are enough, just because they are.  So to try to bolster themselves girls attack each other. At its worst they cut one another down, bully one another.  At its best they quietly compare, hoping to come out better in some tangible way in order to be validated.

Validation.  A girl, a woman, wants to know that she is loved simply because she is loved.  She wants to be told in words that she is loved, just so she can be certain. Similarly she wants all that is beautiful within her to be affirmed.  She wants to know there is somewhere that she can fall and depend on when these affirmations don't come or worse when she is lied to and told she is ugly and worthless.

This is the war of a teenage girl- to determine if she is allowed to believe she is beautiful, cherished, loved, and worthwhile.

If the young woman claws her way through youth and manages to have a positive view of herself, the struggle still never stops.  Men, this struggle is real and on going.

There is a longing in women's hearts to be treasured through affirmation.  The world shows us unhealthy ways to try to fill these longings, while at the same time creating an illusion of what healthy relationship is.    A loving, devoted relationship and marriage will never be easy nor will it be fairytale-like.

My husband cannot solve all my problems. He cannot be Prince charming who rescues me from all my troubles.  But he can be there supportive, loving, affirming at every part of the road.  I personally am so in love with my husband not because he's the most romantic (in fact, I would say, he struggles with romance) but because of our shared, loving history and commitment- and because I know that no matter what I can find myself in his arms for comfort and companionship.

Girls, remember that you are beautiful because that's how God has made you! You're His daughters!  You are His masterpieces!  You are His delight!

So find that diamond (passions, gifts, talents) He's placed in your heart and soul and polish it so it radiates brilliantly!  What do you love? What are you good at? What makes you feel like you could fly?  Pursue these things- God has given them to you as gifts!

By doing this, you can fight against the shame so many women face.

By doing this you can help other women see their true beauty too.

I understand it will still be a battle.  So arm yourself with truth.  Read God's truth about you.  Know the truth that you are cherished, loved, treasured, beautiful!  If you feel contrary to this truth tell Satan to scram and speak these truths outloud.  

The world may not know what to do with a girl and a woman so confident in who she is.  That's okay because truly this posture is for the world's benefit.

Dads, husbands affirm the girls and women in your life: compliment them, compliment them in front of others, hug them, buy them small gifts, look them in the eyes and say "you are beautiful", do something nice for her without her asking, take her on a date YOU planned for her.  Seek to learn what makes her feel loved and work at showing love to her in ways that are meaningful to her.

Moments that mattered in my life, bringing me to where I am, thoughts from what I’ve learned:

I recall a season when I was maybe 9 or 10, where I would ask my parents regularly if they loved me, even accuse them of not loving me.  I see this now as a call out for affirmation. I choose to write this here since it seems that remembering this marks it's significance.

When I was 13 there was a girl in my class who called me fat everyday.  I was clearly slender and so I brushed her off.  But her mean words were cutting.  And I was absolutely frightened of getting fat; perhaps because of her words or perhaps because of the ideals of society. Whatever the reason, for the next 15 years I found myself with a very unhealthy relationship with food.  I teetered on the cusp of an eating disorder and couldn't imagine how I would ever cope if I were to have a few more pounds on my body than I wanted.  I could not grasp that I was beautiful no matter what shape I was. Nor did I understand that being healthy is not about trying to be thin. Being healthy is about feeding our bodies good wholesome food, treating them well, so they will function optimally.  Being healthy is about balanced exercise, moving our bodies because it's good for both of mind and bodies.  Health is not obsessing about high calorie burn.   Our bodies are beautiful creation that enable us to participate in so many blessings of life.  I have come to a place where I am simply so thankful for this body and what joys it allows me to participate in.  I am ever learning how to fill my body with nutritious food. Why? To help my body function optimally, a positive appearance is simply a by-product of this.  I love physical activity like running and soccer and I am so thankful for what this body has done for me.  I have "ugly" varicose veins, my stomach muscles are so separated and my tummy skin wrinkled and stretched.  But that's because of what my body has done for me!  I still find it phenomenal that this body "grew" 3 children, 2 of them at the same time!!!!  Our bodies are amazing!  I have come to love my body for all it can do for me.  But this was a journey.  Daughters, I hope you can see much earlier in your lives that you are absolutely beautiful, from the inside out. And I hope early on in your lives that you can learn to love your bodies.

You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Don't let the world tell you otherwise.  It will try hard.  Satan, our enemy, knows our weaknesses;  always remember God has overcome the enemy!  When the world tries to lie to you, yell and scream and fight back with the truth!

What else mattered to me?  Having a Dad who made me know I was loved.  He wasn't a man of many words.  He was often worn out himself from health struggles.  But through a few key actions I knew through adolescence how much he loves me:. He would come when I was sitting at the kitchen table and he would affectionately pat my head.  I would shriek because he was messing up my hair.  And Dad would call me"his squirrel".  It probably didn't matter what called me, but in this nickname I felt love.  Finally, when Dad said, "that's my girl!" to me on my wedding day, it held so much weight.  (Thank you!)

Fathers ensure your daughters know, beyond a doubt, that they are yours and you will always have arms for them to run to.

Gentlemen, we need you.  As you come to see our battles as women more clearly, I deeply hope that you can see how your words and actions have such power to either bolster or hinder our pursuits and passions.  Do not take this role lightly.  Love the women in your lives openly, tenderly, compassionately.  (This is the kind of man I long for my son to become).

Thank you Dad, for ensuring I always know I am loved. Thank you Ryan, for loving me deeply, intimately, bravely, fearlessly. 

Lies tell me that I will never be enough.  And I truly will never be enough on my own might; but in God’s mercy I AM enough!  I am enough to make a difference in my family, my children, my neighborhood, my city, my world.  I am enough to bring light into the darkness.  I am enough to speak life into the death that creeps around me!

Women, let’s walk this out hand-in-hand, with increasing vulnerability; not pretending that we’ve got it all figured out.  Let’s voice our aches so they can be heard amongst one another and be soothed.  It can be difficult to find our voices when we don’t feel beautiful.  Acknowledge and release any lies so you can start believing you are beautiful.  This is not easy work; vulnerability is hard, honest work.  It is difficult to talk about stuff before it’s all sorted out and returned to a semblance of being picture perfect again.  But, it is my hope that we can be a womanhood who stands waiting along the watchtower wall banded together hand in hand expectant for good on the horizon.  A womanhood praying hard for the hope we all need.  A womanhood seeing and being seen so we can love richer and deeper and so our worlds can be changed!  This is the confident, empowered and optimistic outlook I want my girls to step foot into.  Therefore, I commit earnestly to blaze a trail for them, by God’s grace, living out an example worthy of following; continuing the trail my ancestors blazed for me.  Join me.  I’m rather certain this will be spectacular.   

  

______________________________________ 

1)     We must keep moving forward.  I realized that I want to cling to the beauty of the past.  A couple weeks ago we were at our close friends’ house reminiscing, looking at photos of the past 9 years, about the fun times we’ve had.  Remembering who we were then and the joy and awesomeness of it.  The sermon the next day was about keeping moving forward.  Our pastor, Pastor Scott spoke about Phillipians 3, essentially, about forgetting the past and pressing forward.  He said, “The old good days can be our greatest hindrance of the new good days.” And I realized I’m trying to cling to what was.  Oh, it was good, but it is not the present.  I need to believe and trust that the present and the future are also ripe with goodness.  As long as I’m looking backwards I will never be able to look ahead and grasp today’s goodness.

2)     Post to come on learning about my anxiety/trauma

3)     I believe men have these struggles too, in a different kind of way that I don’t fully understand, but which are even more “hushed” than women’s

Pause

I am a recovering overachiever.  Being an overachiever is praised in our society.  I thrived in the praise I received for academic achievements.  I hold myself back from listing them right now.  And in motherhood, well I prided myself in being a capable mother.  I can’t believe myself when I think about the conversations Ryan and I had discussing whether to have a second child.  I was on the “for” side and he was apprehensive.  I told him not to worry about the infancy stage that he finds so challenging, because I could take care of that myself. Over-achiever, self-sufficient, capable.  Do you think God was trying to teach me something when twins came along and I most certainly could not take care of 2 babies on my own?!  (Sorry God for being a slow learner, because oh how I very much tried to still show that I could do it myself.  As I write these words it kinda (okay…completely) sounds like a tantruming toddler).

Unfortunately, it took the one step further, brain cancer diagnosis, for me to stop and re-evaluate.

I am on a path to discovering the sweetness of being present, of living in the moment, of allowing myself to enjoy life even when it doesn’t meet the metrics of evaluation I place on it.

I am learning about my personality through reading The Road Back to You (1) , and discovering through reading Getting Well Again (2) the attributes of my personality can encourage disease progression.

When the personality book told me “don’t wait until you…. are the youngest person in your family to have a heart attack before you ask the question, ‘Who am I if I’m not my persona?’”  I sat up straight and took note.  I haven’t had a heart attack; but I kinda think stage 4 brain cancer may be worse.  I need to stop trying to achieve for achievements sake.  I need to learn how to be healthy.  I need to be in tune with myself: body, soul, and mind.  No more going through the motions. No more living someone else’s idea of greatness.  No more doing something simply because that’s what’s done.

This is a challenging, freeing process. 

Along this road Psalm 118:24 guides me:

“This is the day that the Lord has made;

let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

Before the twins were born I chose this to be the verse I would look to when days were tough and I couldn’t find joy.  Did the verse help in these moments? No.  Because how could I find joy in the sleeplessness, in the non-stop nursing, pumping milk, bottle-feeding, diaper changing x 2?  How could I find joy when nothing else got done?  How could I find joy when a few months later it became nursing, diapers, feeding solid foods, cleaning high chair trays x 2 just to have enough time to repeat the process again?  How could I possibly find joy when I was doing SO much and felt like I was doing SO little?

I didn’t realize the answer was:  perspective and choice.

These days now, I am equally tired, there are still non-stop mouths to feed.  But I am choosing to be healthy.  I am choosing to say “no” to the over-achiever in me.  I am choosing to ask for the help I need.  I am choosing to accept that I cannot do it all, that it was only ever an illusion when I felt that I could do it all and that the precipitation of serious cancer in my life at age 34 shows this very clearly (3). And what I am finding is the ability to rejoice in each day for what God has given me.

As I sit and write this my computer is sitting on crumbs, the table cluttered with kids’ breakfast dishes, there is so much to be done (always SO much to be done); but the most important task of the day is to choose to find gratitude, to choose to find joy, to choose to be in tune with my soul, and to choose to find praise for God who reveals more truths about me than any personality book ever could.  Some days I feel like making these choices for gratitude, joy, self-awareness, praise for God. Often times I do not feel like making these choices; but, I decide to anyways.  And as I turn my eyes upon Jesus I am able to write words like this:

Pause

I pause to find the artist in my soul, 

to find the poetic in my life 

so I can crack open beauty 

in the midst of 

sleepless nights, 

children coughing, 

kids fighting, 

noses dripping, 

groggy dads, 

moms on the verge of going crazy 

and thoughts of terminal cancer pecking in the background.

When I pause to breathe

I can be thankful in it all,

I can see the touch of my Creator surround me and 

I can remember that 

it's gonna be okay. 

I can choose that 

today is a good day. 

Though everything is calling me 

to be frantic

I can 

pause 

and find peace

and joy

and hope

and love

and more life than I could have ever imagined.

Yes,

I can pause 

and 

enjoy 

this

one

Sweet

Life 

I've been given.

--------------------------------  

1)     The Road Back to You: An enneagram journey to self-discovery.  By Ian Morgan Cron and Suzanne Stabile.

2)     Getting Well Again. By O.Carl Simonton, Stephanie Matthews-Simonton, and James L. Creighton.

3)     I am NOT saying my personality and the stress of having twins caused cancer.  Be sure to see that I am saying I believe it precipitated cancer in my life.  This idea is supported by O.Carl et al. who states that most people who develop cancer have a stressful event 6 – 18 months prior to diagnosis.

      4) The image is of a beautiful bush I pass by everyday walking Rayna to school.  This morning I stopped to enjoy its lovely purple berries (or whatever they are) and this poem came to me.  Isn't purple just a lovely color?!

Who I really am

(Savouring a moment of fall beauty this morning!  It is so good to live in Chilliwack where fall extends into November!)

Disclaimer

I feel I need to preface this post reminding my readers that my life is much messier than my poetic words can make it sound.  I hope you realize that I write my “findings” not because I’ve now arrived and learned them; but, rather because I too need daily reminders to embrace them and placing them here in black and white facilitates that process.  Please remember, when I write I am in a good space.  I am in my happy spot and I can find the positives in all lifes up and down.  I have had time to process the good, the bad and the ugly of my life and come out with a gem.  But.  Oh but.  To find that gem there is a bunch of ugly to sort through. 

The purpose of my writing is firstly as a therapy for me: spending time in a hobby that fills my soul.  Secondly, I desire that my words serve as encouragement to those who read them.  I desire that the gems I’ve uncovered through the muck of my life will breathe peace and joy into your lives.  Because I hope to encourage all with my words I feel I need to draw you deeper into my experience with me.  While my story is different than yours, I remind you that we all have different stories.  We all have different kinds of difficulties.  Through out our lifetimes life will present each one of us with insurmountable difficulties.  Though these difficulties are different for each of us, the human story is such that at some point this insurmountable difficulty will come our way.  You and I are all comrades on this journey of life. 

Furthermore, I hope today to show you a glimpse of my struggling soul.  I am a performance driven perfectionist.  I like to achieve and achieve at the highest level.  Do you know what that means? No room for failure.  Do you know what that means?  I don’t like to give voice to the bad and the ugly of my life.  On my journey of understanding myself better I seek to change this; however, outright here is my disclaimer: just like people put their best images on social media, so too I present the best of me here.  Please be gracious with me as I seek to bare the ugliness alongside the beauty.

I am learning that the battle for the life I want is real and everyday.  Join me in fighting for it today, tomorrow, the next day and so forth.  And in the process find grace.  Our Creator has a never ending supply of grace, I pray that you and I will let this grace wash over us today.

XOXO

I am honored that all of you are journeying with me.  Isn’t life better together?

The Good: Celebration (written yesterday in response to celebrating my kids’ and my birthdays)

I am exhausted from celebrating.  It was so good, so soul filling and so physically exhausting.  This is life with young kids…always so tired. Always. 

It leaves me asking: was it worth it?

Was it worth it?

This worn out, this spent feeling.  Was it worth it to celebrate my children and myself well?

(Still in the high of it all I reply to myself) Absolutely!  We were given this life to celebrate with! 

To celebrate firstly what Jesus has done, then to celebrate those people he has given us.  To pour out our lives to this end for God’s glory, coming regularly back to the fountain of life, Jesus so we can keep keeping on in this exhausting journey called life which when we pause demands our joyous celebrations!

So today I am exhausted, filled and renewed all at the same time.

I realize I have this: choice.  I choose how to respond to what motherhood throws at me.  So as I return to the hair-pulling, mundane of mothering 3 youngsters, battling my own anxiety along the way, organizing activities and packing lunches and taming tantrums and mood swings and facing toilets that are getting scarier than Halloween, I have a renewed sense that I need to choose to pause and see that LIFE is so GOOD and this life of mine is an incredible, priceless, beautiful GIFT.

This life’s a grueling marathon; but I am choosing to let my life shine brightly so I do not lose the race! (Phil 2:16-17) And I am on mission to celebrate every km covered!

Join me comrades! This race is epic!

End quote from my journal

Back to present day.

Really?! I ask myself chuckling.  I am so freaking tired in this moment.  I have been tired for 3 years and I am worn and I CANNOT muster spunk.  I am glad to sit in front of computer and drink tea and let my introverted self just be, calmly, boringly, no hint of celebration, just BE.  Because what I feel in this moment is reminiscent of this (excerpt from journal Oct 22/18):

Who I really am

I am big and strong

Brave and optimistic

Stepping into the future with

Hope

Oh so much Hope!

I have so much to live for

I have so much left to give.

I have so much to learn,

I have so much to share

I have so much to experience.

In my mind I daily envision cancer being destroyed

By God’s mighty armies.

Obliterated. Denied access. Penetrated. Confused.

I envision strongholds around my healthy body fortified

And nourishment- rich nourishment feeding my body and soul.

(Having read that envisioning optimistic outcomes increases longevity)

I envision splashing in the lake with my teenage children

I envision holding my first grandbaby

I envision cheering my son to athletic victory in high school

I envision my daughters’ weddings and beginning to know my daughter in law.

I envision this all so optimistically.

But when I pause

I weep.

I am so very weary from fighting.

Oh how hard I am fighting.

I am worn and I need

REST.

Desperately, I need rest.

I need that quiet field where I can lie in the soft grass

And smell the flowers.

Where sun warms my body and soul. 

I need that space so quiet, so still, so unaware of time.

A place where I am truly

Quieted.

Where all the tasks do not exist

Where being is all that’s asked of me

Where life is beautiful

Simply because its lived.

I want to lie in this quiet field

Until my soul is full and jam packed

With peace and inspiration

Where I learn to live freely

Uninhibited.

Alive, like I’ve never been before.

Oh God

Take me to THIS field.

Take me to this place where I can see what I really want

Where I can feel what’s really inside

Where anxiety cannot exist.

Where sadness and anger roll in and fight within me so they can be

Released.

My God teach me this peace so

I can bring it with me.

Each step of my path

Teach me how to sit at Your feet

Broken.

Worn.

Confused.

Exhausted.

Unequiped.

To wrestle with the discomfort of it all.

Oh God give me the strength and wisdom that I do not have.

End quote from my journal

I contemplate how to wrap up these 2 dichotomies; how to conclude today.    I think this might be it:

My celebrating self declares that how I choose to respond to life is a choice.  She is optimistic and cheery, celebrating this choice.  However, this choice remains the same in good and bad days.  There are days when I am exhausted: emotionally, physically, both.  There are days when I am at my wits end.  There are days that anxiety clenches my throat.  There are days that hope threatens to evaporate.  Most days faith does not come naturally.   But in these days too, I have the choice of my response.

(I am reminded of my 3 year olds who will scream and not do a task if I tell them to; however if I ask them if they want to clean up now or in 5 minutes, the choice diffuses their emotions.)

I am empowered to choose my response in good days and in bad or sad days.  This is the premise of the gratitude journal I have started; gratitude can be found everyday.

And so…

I choose to savour all that life puts in front of me.  (At a relaxation class yesterday I was learning the practice of savouring the moments of life.  Those who savour life are more satisfied with life.  )

I choose to enjoy celebrating.

I choose to allow myself to rest.

I choose to cling to the Hope of Jesus Christ.

(And remember having choice doesn’t make it is easy; but just like my 3 year olds, it helps diffuse the ugly, so we can get on with the good stuff.)

Isn’t this life a crazy thing?

Psalm 118:24 (Cheryl version):  This is the moment I have been given.  The moments make up my day.  Today I choose to praise God for the gift of moments!  Today I choose to be grateful in these moments. 

Birthday Celebration

Birthdays.

Today is my birthday.  I am 37 years old.  Today I’ve been celebrated so well.  I feel loved, I feel special, I feel irreplaceable and I feel valued.  I am thankful for my family and friends and the blessings I’ve been given: gifts, words, messages, and thoughtfulness.  I woke up and found my 6 year old daughter in the bathroom secretly making me a card before I got up, she was disappointed I spied her, so I let her be.  When she was finished she handed me a stuffie she bought with my husband, that she had wrapped herself this morning, and the birthday card she was working on.  This girl has the gift of encouragement and gave my birthday morning a beautiful uplifting start.  As we sat on the couch she pointed out the roses on the mantel that my husband placed there the night before.  So wonderful!  And then the other 2 kids got up and (eventually;) ) my husband.  I received 2 more stuffies as gifts from my twins and a shirt from my hubby.  My heart was already so full. 

Then I had asked my husband if he would take me to the spa treatment I had booked and then go for a birthday lunch with me.  He chauffeured me.  I was pampered at the spa, (a gift from my sister in law and mother in law) --- I kept reminding myself “it’s okay to be pampered, just enjoy it!”.   When I came home, a gift from a friend awaited me. It has felt so good to be loved on today.  Thank you.  (My high birthday expectations have been met!...and I still have a small gathering on Saturday and an extended family celebration on Sunday!)

Here are my contemplations about my birthday.

On my birthday I love to celebrate.  Oh I have always loved birthdays and loved mine.  It saddened me in my mid-20s when my birthday lost a sort of marvel.  Little did I realize, I simply lost sight of the marvel and failed to preserve it. 

I cherish celebrating birthdays – my children’s, my husband’s, mine.  They do not need to be elaborate (though it’s true, I do highly value thoughtfulness)—but in the celebration we acknowledge a praise of thanksgiving to God for another year and the gift that that is.  Oh that gift!  Since cancer entered my life and I became uncertain how many birthdays I have left (though really we are all in this category…) I wear each birthday like a celebration crown.  Oh I beam to add each year a bigger, older number to the celebration.  It is with joy I celebrate getting older.  I am approaching 40 and with each number bigger and closer to 40 I get giddy with excitement: a gift I cannot wait to unwrap.  A gift so precious so treasured, so valuable: LIFE.  Life with all its ups and downs, joys and sadnesses, hopes and failures.  

This beautiful life God has given me.  That is what I celebrate TODAY.  Thank you God for 37 years!  To You be the glory!

Confessions of a performance driven perfectionist

 Mark 10:16 (MSG) "Mark this: Unless you accept God's kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you'll never get in."

Why do I spend my time hurrying to moments of no lasting significance and hurrying through moments with great lasting value?

Pause.

This life is meant to be a marathon, not a sprint.

I think about this: do i want my life to be over in a flash like a sprint, a blur? No, I want to relish the beauty over the long haul inclusive of the aches and pains and difficulties *

I want to give pause when I find an extra beautiful moment to feel the moments deeply.  Whether it's the sun shining brilliantly through the trees.  Or the leaves fluttering to the ground.  Or my child nuzzling in.  Or a stranger I've encountered whom I can give a word of encouragement to.

I’m one who naturally rushes rushes rushes----- there is so much to be done!  But slowly. ---Ever. ----So. ---Slowly. I am learning.  As a mom of 3 young children I am learning that no matter how hard I try the dishes will never be caught up, the laundry will never be completely done, rooms will be upheaved to disaster in seconds, and though I just fed my kids they need to eat yet again!  So I am learning that since rushing is futile, perhaps I ought to try something different.

Find beauty.  Savour moments of lasting value.

Beauty is found in the in-between moments.  But it is only seen if I intentionally create pause between the schedule, if I create margins in my life, and if I embrace being prepared to throw my plan for the day to the wind if something more important of lasting value comes along.

And I think, just maybe, this is the key to finding rest amidst the busy: create regular moments where busy is not in control, where I stand up to busy and say No! Not in my life! My life is not controlled by busy.

And what I find here is space.  Space to breathe. Space to be real. Space to ponder what I actually want to do with these precious moments of my life.  Space to remember the gift of the air in my lungs.  Space to raise my arms in Thanksgiving for the beauty of it all!!!

Yes! Yes, this is how I want to spend my moments.

God help me make it so.

*The longest distance I have ran is 30Km.  A 30Km trail run.  It hurts to run this far! (My personal experience was that it is hard work after the 20km point to keep pressing forward and yet, interestingly, even so there is much exilieration in the last km.)  Furthermore, just as this race was an up and down marathon—both physically and emotionally--, so too is life.  Up and Down.  And you can't have the ease of downhills without slogging up the uphills.  

So I want to be present in all these moments, feeling them for what they are, grateful always for the opportunity of experience.  And then I want to take my experience in the difficulty and not forget, never forget, when the course of life eases up a bit or a lot; I never want to forget the journey from point A to point B and how it has shaped me.

I am a Survivor

I was asked on Instagram how I was able to “beat the disease” in reference to a post stating being a 2-year glioblastoma survivor.  I have well out-lived average survival.  I am so grateful to have the opportunity to share the keys to my survival. Here is my response:

(Please note: though I am in remission, according to science I have not “beat” this disease.  That said, the following is what I give credit to for beating the odds and surviving and thriving thus far!)

HOPE.  Believe in hope.  Search for hope with all your might.  When you find hope, cling to it tightly!  And remember hope can always be found.

I received my glioblastoma diagnosis on a Friday afternoon.  My regular doctor was out of town so I saw a brand new fill-in doctor.  She was upfront that she wasn’t familiar with glioblastoma; but that average survival was 1 year.  Of course I was in shock hearing this.  My husband and I went home to process this information.  I did not touch the internet because I didn’t feel the information I would find would be helpful. 

I spend the weekend in a state of hopelessness and sorrow.  Monday my coworker, Jenn, stopped by and beamed with optimism.  With her demeanor and her words she stated that I could be a long-term survivor.  She told me to google “glioblastoma survivor”.  I did and found a story of a 16 year survivor.  Jenn breathed HOPE into my diagnosis.  She told me she was sure I would beat this even though everything says this disease is unbeatable.  THAT is what I needed to hear. Thank you, Jenn!!!!

The next breath of HOPE I received was from actually speaking with an 8 year glioblastoma survivor.  He is a friend of my GP willing to share his story with me.  When I spoke with this fellow I learned that he had a 1 year old child!  He chose to have a child even with a glioblastoma diagnosis!  Furthermore, he shared the title of a book with me, Getting Well Again by O. Carl Simonton.  I’ve just begun to read it and have found it helpful.  The book discusses the power that an optimistic attitude and self-awareness can play in survival.  We can influence the state of our health through “positive attitudes, relaxation, visualization, goal setting, managing pain, exercise, and building an emotional support system.”  Disease does NOT render us powerless!   

Finally, I have found HOPE in believing in Jesus; this has been key.  Jesus has always been a part of my life; post-cancer He has become an absolutely essential part of my life and of my survival.  I’ve cracked open my bible again and as I read daily I meet a powerful, loving, healing Jesus who makes the impossible possible.  As I choose to trust in Jesus I am empowered to believe that my prayers and the attitudes of my heart are heard and seen.  This belief gives me the Hope that the God of the universe who loves me so deeply has my brain in His healing hands.  (I’ve evaluated the potential foolishness others may think in my believing this; however, my experience has been that believing in Jesus gives me the anchor I need during the storm of battling cancer and it gives me Hope both for today --- that God is with me and surrounds me in love --- and Hope for the future beyond this life.  So I choose not to care if anyone else thinks its foolishness because I have personally experienced it’s power and benefit!)

Here I will share a quote I just read from a beautiful book, Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors:

“Maybe courage is trusting when we don’t know what is next, leaning into the hard and knowing that it will be hard, but more, God will be near….Maybe bravery is just looking fear in the face and telling it that it does not win because we have known the Lord here…Though we tremble and feel uncertain courage means we press into a God who is certain, sure, steady.  He carries us; He lifts our heads.  And His unfailing love and comfort become our courage and our hope.”

Jesus gives me the courage I need to have hope and let me tell you, having Hope that you can hang on to is powerful!!! 

Also, having a support network which is hopeful alongside you--- believing surviving and thriving is possible-- is essential.  I am grateful for my husband who is naturally optimistic. I describe him as having optimistic optimism.  These are the kind of people we need to surround ourselves with in order to thrive. 

I personally choose to believe that I WILL be in the 5% of people who become 5-year survivors.  I also choose to plan optimistically for my future while at the same time being prudent about my present (I’ve created a will, written birthday letters to my children for their future, etc.).  Furthermore, I’ve processed fears surrounding death in a healthy way with the help of a counselor and continue to process on-going anxiety in this way.

Find HOPE, whatever it looks like for you, and cling to it!!!

I don’t know your faith but, I desire to leave you with a blessing so if you’re willing, please accept my prayer for you:  May God grant you wisdom and His supernatural peace as you journey these difficult roads ahead.  I pray God will grant you and your family Hope, healing and optimism. 

Blessings to you and your family.

XOXO,

Cheryl