Our Life on This Day

Have just checked each one of my precious babes! They're all sleeping in such angelic fashion. So often, I just stop at the end of busy days and watch them sleep. Watch them breathe. Watch them lay still. Watch their chests gently move to the beat of their hearts. I've even been known to snap a pic or two of them up close and personal deep in slumber! At these times, I am reminded in resounding form of the blessed woman I am! Indeed, God has gifted me with value . . . value far beyond what the mind can comprehend.

An update on our life seems to be necessary, considering the date of the last post.

Here's the flowery version (for those faint of heart):

Start: This past week has been gloriously perfect! We've accomplished every bit of school work. The house has been cleaned from top to bottom (even the blinds have been dusted in each and every room). The cars have been washed, waxed and vacuumed. All of us have had at least 30 minutes per day of elevated heart rate. Books have been read by each in our spare time. Meals have been prepared from scratch . . . nothing processed here! Oh, yeah . . . and this cancer issue hasn't really been anything because we're thinking positive and not letting it bother us. End.

That "joking around" just about makes me sick. However, there are those in my life who need that version to make them comfortable about my life. To a degree, I think I understand where they are. Yes, it hurts that they cannot walk this road with me and my family. That, however, is something they'll have to work out with God.

Here's the nitty gritty version (for those who are "bearing our burden"):

Our days seem to become more challenging with each passing 24 hours. Sadly, not one of us looks to expect good anymore, learning to settle for okay. Okay is at least better than the awful that so often is the case. My Main Man has become the Man of Gold in recent days! He's had to do things we never even imagined when we said our wedding vows 20 years ago. The way he has navigated each of our needs simply amazes me! It reminds me why I married him and makes me grateful he's mine!

Presently, we have chosen to implement extreme alternative treatments for this terminal case of cancer with which I have been diagnosed. (Did you see that ugly word "terminal"? Yuck.) You know, chemo is alternative when you consider the attack that is taken upon your body. But, chemo is readily accepted in our society because we are trained from birth to accept it. Since the doctors have nothing to offer me, alternative is our only choice, yet it is the choice that God has directed us to for sometime now. These extreme treatments are proving to be incredibly cumbersome and time-consuming. They also bring about a very great measure of sickness upon my body as I detox nearly 46 years of "trash" that has settled within my cells and tissues. Maybe another time I'll share about the specifics of this detoxing stuff. Just know, though . . . it's a gruesome job that's gotta be done.

Daily, we accomplish the best we can with the life that this family of seven requires. All things are looked at in different ways nowadays. Character building certainly outranks any measure of academic accomplishment. (Don't worry, we still do "school"!) Lots and lots of time for "lovin" is reserved on every one's schedule. (You know, I thrive on skin-to-skin contact with my blessings!) And, you should see our refrigerator! We are being treated to some delicious meals being brought by dear friends who are loving us through this time. When I sit down to the dinner table and see the magnificent spread delivered by another, I am overwhelmed by the goodness of our Lord. Afterall, it is He who has seen to it that my family is fed. And, He has done it through some amazingly beautiful families. I trust for His blessings upon them in their gift to us!

There is much that is not getting done around here. But, then . . . I'm reminded by the Lord about what our priorities really ought to be. Are we walking this journey of uncertainty looking for a path paved with the expected? Or are we trusting Him with each step we take? Are we making sure to include Him in all that we do? Or do we stop and look around hoping to see Him in what we've chosen? Yes, I am being forced to take inventory of what's really going on here in regards to my days. I hope I'm blinded to the pull of this world and its desires for pleasure. My burning desire is that I be fully surrendered to my Savior and all that He has called me to do within every breath that He grants me. (I'll be honest and reveal that at times when the pain is so intense, I fail and cry for relief. Forgive me Lord for my fear and being scared. Sometimes, the pain is so great, I literally can't see straight.)

For those of you who have prayed for us, thank you! It is our hope that through this experience of our life, you would be drawn to a closer relationship with the Lord.

We continue to trust . . .

Ten Years Later . . .

. . . Am I closer to my Lord?

Ten years ago this past June, I said goodbye to our fourth baby, our fourth son, half way through my pregnancy with him. The heartache that came with that season was like none I'd experienced before. Many challenges happened during that time. There were days I didn't understand. Tears flowed from each of us five who were so looking forward to this new member for our family. The three precious sons we already had wondered where their brother "went". Could they "get on a plane to go see him" they asked. Aching for this littlest guy was overwhelming. There was, however, our amazing loving God that surrounded, engulfed, loved, nurtured and carried us through that time of aching. He drew us near and blessed in ways that melt me in just thinking about them. At the time, I remember thinking, I am already so close to you, Lord. How could there be need for this? I've experienced the "fire" and trusted you through it. What am I too learn now?

Well, as any "seasoned" lover of the Lord knows, trials and challenges are part of the journey to which there is no limit (as are His blessings along the way!). He has never promised this earthly life to be understood . . . for His ways are not ours, nor are His thoughts ours. Without question, however, does He promise to love, provide and protect us through it all.

So, here, ten years later, I do know Him more. I do know Him deeper. I do have a greater love for Him. And to think I thought I'd arrived back in 2001! Ahh, the growth yet to occur! Praise the Lord He keeps loving us!

Tonight while enduring some rather severe physical suffering, this song came up on my iPod "worship" playlist. Immediately, I was drawn into His presence as if literally on my knees before Him. Trying to sing along proved impossible as tears and crying to my Lord overtook every part of me. Shaking and trembling, I imagined His arms carrying me just like an infant . . . one He loves dearly, one He created for Himself. As I am faced with surrending earthly thoughts, I realize the relationship I have with the Lord has grown practically beyond my understanding, deeper than I ever thought possible.



Deeper in love with Him I stand everyday.

Passive Is An Ugly Word

This blog (or should I say my life) is starting to look like some I've "watched" over time. You know, the kind where horrible circumstance inspires curiosity . . . a parent or child struggling with a terrible disease or cancer; a child that has died; a parent that has died; the life after an awful accident. You know, those that make you cry when you don't even know the afflicted. Why, as a people, are we drawn to observe - typcially from a distance? I believe it's because God is at the very center of each one us, having created a deep place for love within our core . . . whether you want to believe in Him or not. Me, I'm guilty of "watching" blogs such as I've referenced. Very quickly, however, my heart becomes attached and I am drawn to pray for their situation. I hope that is what you are drawn to do for me and my family. Each one of us is experiencing our own version of this cancer. Not one isn't scarred, tired, or scared.

Right now, I am crying. My head is swimming with all the details I've tried to get in alignment just for functioning purposes. Many regular life issues happened today -- nothing too unusual for a family of seven. Although, as the day progressed, my footing began to slip. I could feel it happening as if my legs were losing muscle strength. Now, here at an hour past dinner that has yet to be served, I feel like a pile of limp spaghetti noodles (without sauce, by the way). My skin is crawling, my tears are falling, my heart is pounding. Oh, how do I shield the many little eyes around me from this ugly side of our reality?

Yesterday, was an incredible breath of relief! The Lord provided strength for me to dance with Him. My pain was little, barely noticeable. My sleep was sweeter than it had been in months. My heart was beating a chipper beat. These "treats" spilled over upon my precious family and soon they, too, were dancing! The encouragement from the Lord revitalized this weary soul to a point I didn't know possible. I awoke this morning a bit not as rested. But, that wasn't going to stop me! I was focused upon Him not for the moment, but for who He is yesterday, today and tomorrow.

While I may not be as challenged as on Sunday, the me in me is not as good as yesterday. The straw that nearly broke this camel's back today was the conflict in trying to schedule a consult with the radiation oncologist. The office girl was so passive about what I needed. Perhaps my "stage 4" classification needing "radiation for pain management" that interrupted her computer solitaire game was rather intrusive. (Oooh, that sounds a little spicy on my part. But, I really do think that's what was going on.) I sat there on hold feeling like a nothing, someone who wasn't important anymore. Why . . . because I am just trying to "buy some more time"? Do you know what it took for me to surrender in making that call to schedule beams of red to penetrate my body? Do you know the difficulty my mind has in grasping radiation or pain pills? And, this "clerk" was so passive.

Passive is such an empty word. It means you are blah on everything. I don't like passive. I like vibrant! Vibrant means life is with purpose! Life that has choices made with zeal, zest and exuberance! Isn't that how God would have us to life for Him. Let us not forget that He came to give us life and life more abundantly . . . not passively.

So, with bedtime quickly approaching and my babes needing some skin to skin contact, I will pop a pain pill for the anticipated slumber. This will calm me. My Lord, however, will refresh and strengthen me for His purpose. For those of you who may not know my Lord, He can be yours too. He yearns for that relationship with you. While my journey has been insurmountable at times, without Him . . . I wouldn't be here.

Listen to that still small voice . . . He's calling.

Here With Me

You know, the whole summer I've suspected something just wasn't right with the pains I was feeling. But, trying to keep the "what ifs" of cancer out of my mind, I kept fabricating, justifying, considering, hoping for all types of other reasons. Now that a fifth slam with cancer has been confirmed, the past four days have taken on a whole new look. While there have been many many tears, there has also been a strange development of sad/mad feelings. Sad/mad you ask? Well, I don't want to cultivate anger, yet I'm really not happy about this news. Therefore, it kind of feels like a huge enormous sadness, but that doesn't seem to really capture it. I'm not mad at God . . . I think I'm terribly confused and probably quite hurt. However . . .

Back nearly 40 years ago, I officially placed my life in His hands. That earthly surrender was for Him to have His way with my life . . . whatever His plan for my life may be. There certainly have been some unexpected turns, paths I hadn't anticipated, joys I couldn't fathom, mercies undeserved. When I asked the Lord into my life, I knew it was the right choice, the only decision. He has had a firm grip on me through some incredibly tumultuous periods of life that date back to birth. I have seen Him clearly through tear-filled eyes. I have experienced His compassion at times my heart was simply crushed. I have had peace that genuinely does pass all understanding. And now again, He is here with me, providing what a Heavenly Father does best . . . loving me. Loving me in my broken sadness, aching heart, confused earthy mind, and weakened body.

This song brought me to tears earlier today when the boys had it playing while we were preparing lunch. I thought I might be able to disguise my tears from them because I was cutting onions . . . no deal, they were onto me! The Main Man came over with his strong arms to engulf my shoulders. Please listen and allow our precious Heavenly Father to minister to you through these words. My burden was made lighter, my heart was made fuller, my smile was made wider. (Make sure to go to the bottom of my blog and stop the other music so you can listen to this song at this post.)



From the depths of my heart, Lord, I can feel your presence here with me. I am lost within your beauty, caught up in the wonder of your touch. Yes, again Lord, I surrender to your love, your grace, to the One who took my place. I know I'm not alone for you've called me as your own long before I drew breath. I'll continue the walk with you . . . even though I think you're carrying me right now.

God's Answer . . . for Now

Half of me is speechless.
Half of me is desperately trying to organize the multitude of words within me.

Yesterday, my Main Man and I sat in an oncologist's office to hear the results from my PET/CT scan of Wednesday. Of course, this activity does nothing but produce stress and angst. What else could it possibly do as you sit waiting to find out if cancer has again had it's way with your body. Finally entering the small exam room, the doctor says, "Are you ready?" My thoughts wanted to unleash a few statements, but my character smiled and said, "I don't know...am I?" In summary, the highlights are that cancer is no where in my body EXCEPT in the pelvic region. (Mental note: I should be thankful with this news. Hmmmm...I'll try to work on that.) And, in that region, this new cancer occupies a very odd shaped area. This mass of tumors is pressing on many things . . . the bladder, the right ureter, the tailbone, the major nerve that descends my right leg, the rectum, a portion of the colon, and probably other less noticeable places. So, the picture is pretty clear . . . I am a mess down there. No wonder the "pressure" I feel is like that of a nine month pregnancy (of which I know that feeling very well!). No wonder the pain is debilitating at times along with being indescribable. The sad realization came to me that these aren't "adjustments" the chiropractor can help me with. This disease is just like Satan, seeking for what it can devour and destroy.

As the appointment continued, plans for treatment were discussed. Well, I really shouldn't use the word "plans" in the plural sense because there aren't options. There is one option he had to offer . . . palliative radiation. For those of you who don't know that phrase . . . it's a pretty word to confuse oneself that they are facing death. This palliative treatment would be used to attempt to shrink the tumor masses to relieve some of the pain I'm experiencing. Eradicating the tumors is not something I should hope for as that would most likely "not be possible". So, as my Main Man said this afternoon, the doctor's words were essentially saying we are preparing for death . . . we just don't know quite how long that will take.

(Insert human emotion here): HOW CAN I BE WRITING THESE WORDS ABOUT ME??? TEARS, TEARS, MANY TEARS.

Somehow, overnight, pain meds have taken on a whole new meaning. Two days ago, they were to get me through what I hoped to be an alignment issue that could be corrected . . . you know "old lady disc issues". Not the case. Cancer is raging and the pain is getting worse by the day. Back to those pain meds. Well, now my attitude is "take 'em", quit thinking you can win this battle. Cancer pain is physically horrid and emotionally wicked. I hate medication. I refrain from taking medication. But, now I must . . .

This weekend will be spent discussing the fine points of radiation and the impact upon me and that of our home. I've declined this method of treatment three times prior. Will I cave now . . . because I've got to have pain relief? But, then there is this wee little bit of my mind that wonders if the tumors could shrink away to nothing. Hmmmmm.....