The news is good! Successful surgery, described by the surgeon as so smooth it was almost boring. Clear lymph nodes. No radiation or chemo needed. I couldn't have gotten a better report.
God is so good!
But, wait a minute, Would God have been good if I'd had cancer in my lymph nodes? Would He still be good if I had to have radiation or chemotherapy?
God doesn't change. And it's the knowing Him that makes life worthwhile, in good times and bad. He is just as good when everything goes well, as He is when everything falls apart.
Where I focus makes the difference. On Him. Not on circumstances.
How grateful I am for God who holds me!

Celebration

     Today was a day of pink roses, lilies and gladioli, a scorching heat, a bagpiper filling the vivid green cemetery with the strains of "Amazing Grace." There were swarms of beautifully dressed children and bright, attractive parents watching them enjoy being with cousins. A sense of elation hung in the air that the shell of a person in the coffin wasn't our mother any more. She was out of pain and in her right mind now. Mother was with the Savior whom she met as a little girl and who always loved her totally and fully. It was a day of celebration, of delight in the home going of one who was more whole than she had ever been before.

Good-bye , Mother

The God I love and serve times everything perfectly. I may not be able to understand His reasons, but I know He can be trusted. His taking Mother home in the midst of my cancer experience is allowed by His loving heart for His reasons. So, resting in His secure hands, I say goodbye to Mother.

She had been in hospice for a year and a half in a wonderful healthcare facility in Somerville. Visits with her were interesting at the very least. In her dementia, she imagined herself to have been places. She said several times that she had been to England. At that moment, I saw the mercy of God. He was allowing her to have great adventures in her mind, rather than dwell on the fact that she had a broken body that wouldn't allow her to get out of bed.

No matter what, Mom was always delighted to see me. Never will I thrill someone so much just by showing up. Now she is in the presence of the God we both know. Surely there was never a delight here on earth that even begins to match her joy there!

Waiting

     Waiting for surgery is about to drive me crazy! Days and hours and minutes go by so slowly! I got the news of the cancer, cleared my schedule to get ready for what was to come, and now I wait.
      Years ago our godly dentist discovered he had cancer. His struggle was difficult. I saw him in the hall at church and asked him how things were going. He replied that the hardest things were those daily things, not the major crises.
       And I'm finding the same thing true. Daily waiting for surgery to go ahead and happen is rattling me as much as the overall diagnosis, it seems.  The hardest times seem to be the little things. Maybe it's because I'm ready right away to turn the major, scary things over to God, but I still want to control the little things, like waiting.
       There are so many stories of people in situations where they were chomping at the bit to get going somewhere and they had to wait. A friend was traveling through the mountains of Mexico with a missionary and some Mexican girls who were students at a Bible college. Something went wrong with their car. Being an American, Taylor wanted to make it to the village they were visiting by a certain time. He paced back and forth at the place where the Jeep was being repaired, wanting to get there and wondering why the delay. Hours later, with the vehicle repaired, the group made it safely to their destination.
      The next morning they heard about some travelers who were robbed on the road they had traveled. As well as having things of value taken from them, the victims had to remove their clothes at gunpoint. Those travelers had been traveling the same road that Taylor's group had taken. The victims had been robbed at the same time that Taylor, the missionary and the female students would have been traveling, had they not had car trouble! God had allowed the delay to protect them from what at worst could have been disastrous and at the least, embarrassing.
      I know God is sovereign over the future. He will never allow anything in which He will not stay close to me. He has proven Himself over and over again in my life. Why do I have trouble remembering that He will engineer my future days for His glory and my good? My surgery and all that will follow are in His hands. May snap out of this and wait on Him with pleasure!

        Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.
         They will mount up with wings as eagles.
           They will run and not grow weary.
             They will walk and not grow faint.
                                Isaiah 40:31

Singing in the Shower

     Several years ago, I went on a mission trip to Córdoba in the southeastern mountains of Mexico. It was the rainy season. It poured day and night. Never had I seen such rain! It came down as if huge buckets were endlessly dumping their wet contents as far as you could see. I remember looking up and seeing the place where two parts of the roof met. It looked like a tall, raging waterfall.

     Throughout this experience of discovering that I have breast cancer, I have noticed that I am calmed by the Lord, but those around me are not. I see sadness, panic and worry in the eyes of some of those I love. I have been wondering why I'm not suffering and they are.

      It came to me that God is flooding me with His grace and peace, much like that pouring torrent. It's like one of those flat disc-type shower heads that rains down a heavy water flow. And I'm gasping for breath in God's grace. I'm filled and surrounded by it to the point that I'm gasping for air in the drenching of grace I'm getting. 

     Those I'm surrounded by aren't getting that shower. I need to remember this when I can't understand panic and fear. If I step out of the shower and look only at my circumstances, I'm filled with panic and fear too. 

     And so I'm choosing to stay in the shower and sing for joy.

          Because You are my help, I sing for joy in the shadow of Your wings.
                                                             Psalm 63:7

Delight in a Dark Place

    Because I can't deal with throngs of people right now, Joe and I stayed home from church and listened instead to a podcast.

     Our beloved former pastor Ronnie Stevens now leads the Danube International Church in Budapest, Hungary. We listened to a talk he gave this morning. It was from Acts 23, about how Paul dealt with hardship from the High Priest and from a hand of thugs that swore not to eat or drink until they'd killed him. 

     At the end, Ronnie mentioned the months in college after he came to know Jesus Christ personally. They were times full of hard things, more suffering than he'd known before. The new life of walking with Jesus Christ did not turn out to be trouble-free by any means. Then he stated with much emphasis how wonderful that time was. 

     I sat up straight in my green wingback and said, "That's it! That's what it's like now!"

     A life lived walking with Jesus Christ in ordinary times can be rich and filled with meaning. But a life of walking through hard places is delightful, when focus is on Him. Encapsulated, so to speak, I lean hard on Him. The storm rages around me still, but finding my help and strength in Him gives me a safe and secure place to stay. His friendship, closeness with the God of the universe, is warm and real. 

     And, experience has taught me, afterwards, I am glad that I went through the dark place, because there I found Him again to be faithful, a keeper of His promises.

      Because You are my help, I sing in the shadow of Your wings.
                                    Psalm 63:7

Alone, But Not Alone

Friends are being so kind, with cards and texts and calls. I so appreciate all of it. I feel so loved and supported. But I can't be around people right now.

My need is to focus on God, who is holding me tightly. Others focus on circumstances. They are so warm and concerned.  But I need to keep my eyes OFF the circumstances and on the One who hold me so securely.

          But as for me,
          I have made the sovereign Lord my refuge. Psalm 73:28

It Feels Like Hope

Mastectomy. It has an ominous sound. I'd always thought cancer and mastectomy would feel like a sentence to a concentration camp. But t
It doesn't feel that way at all. It feels like hope.

So much research has been done. So many women go through this. Medicine has made huge strides in this area, partly due to the pink ribbons and hats and t-shirts and all, that I used to consider silly.

No matter the ultimate outcome, God is there, steady and strong. I feel like I'm on a tour on a bus. God is the one who planned my itinerary. The tour guides on the microphone, taking turns at the front, are the health care professionals. They point out details and explain things as we come to them on the journey. I sit back, comfortable in my seat. I know that Someone wise and completely trustworthy planned the trip. He will take care of me every second of the journey.

As Isaiah 43:1-3 says:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you,
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
The flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the Lord your God,
The holy one of Israel, your savior.

Our two-year-old granddaughter Grace had never seen a metal garbage can, except in one place- on Sesame Street. We pulled one out of the garage in which to put sticks from the yard. She bent over the can, looking for Oscar the Grouch, and said, "Where monster?"

That's how I feel about this scary walk I'm taking. Where's the monster? God holds me so securely, I feel calm, resting in Him. It doesn't depend on me. He's carrying it all.

"Football Fever"

My husband is in the other room in his comfort zone: watching ESPN reruns of college football games. That's as much a feel-better action for him as a huge bowl of ice cream is to me. 

As I listen to the roaring crowds, many of whom left this world before the century turned, I realize that this breast cancer thing affects people around me too. Where is he in his mind? How is this affecting him emotionally? 

Oh, that's right, men don't have emotions, do they? Not! I guess this staunch masculine stance makes it even harder to deal with crises. In fact, one of the only ways our culture allows men to express their feelings is during sporting events. Now that makes sense. Feel something, then cheer it out watching football! 

Lord, help me to be sensitive to the people who love me, those around me during this journey. Key me in to what I can do to make it easier for them, as you hold me, safe and secure, in Your fortress, shielded by Your faithfulness, as I read in Psalm 91:1-4. 

      My thoughts are zinging all over the place like the little silver ball in a pinball machine. One minute I want to sit and be quiet. The next, I can't sit still. I want to talk to someone, then I don't. 
       Television irritates me more than usual. In the car, the radio seems to be full of advice on finances  parenting and political opinion. Isn't there anything meaningful? Facing the future, why would I care about these trivial things?

      This must be how it is when someone is waiting for bad news, perched on the edge of the unknown. I want to know what is going to happen in the next few days. Tomorrow is my first appointment with the surgeon. 

      The plunge into the dark doesn't scare me. I know Who will catch and hold me there. God holds me now and He will then. I'm just ready to get on with it. But as I wait, it really "is well with my soul."
      

       God is our refuge and our strength,
       An ever present help in trouble.
       Therefore we will not fear,
          though the earth give way
          And the mountains fall into the sea.
                                            Psalm 46:1-2

     How dependable and strong God has been in my life since I was such a confused teenager years ago. Suddenly He was there. He was real and strong, as He has been through all these years. He can't change. He is the same to me today.

      I asked a friend to pray that I would keep my eyes on Jesus through this ordeal. She wisely replied, "Remember, even if your focus gets off Him, His focus is always on you. "

    I am alternately calm, then panicked, but God is not wavering. He is a safe refuge and my strength. Even if the "earth give way," or "the mountains" that I lean on so hard for my stability "fall into the sea." Because He is my true stability.

Trusting

Sitting in the soft, comfortable chair in the cozy office of my counselor, I poured out all that has been going on, about my diagnosis, the deep sense of God's presence and the incredible peace I have.

With calm, careful interest, she asked me how is all this is coming out in you, personally?"

The clock ticked in the quiet office as I thought through my answer. "I'm snapping at everyone. " I confessed. "Little things are bothering me, that wouldn't normally cause a reaction in me. I'm emotionally exhausted!"

How do I reconcile my firm confidence in God through this time and my emotional fatigue? How can I jump all over my husband if I trust God? How can I find myself unable to handle the little things if I'm trusting God?

The answer is that I can't handle all these things, but God can. It's not about me and my goodness. It's about Him and His power in me. I can't face breast cancer. He can. And by leaning on Him, I can.

Unexpected Journey

I didn't know what was written on the next page of my life, but God did. Breast cancer.

Through the past week, God has given me calm. By the time the radiologist called, I was ready for whatever was written in the next chapter of my life. I knew in a solid and sure way that God knew all about this and was holding and would hold me throughout the whole ordeal. He has been

my strong and faithful companion up till now, and He will continue to be. God doesn't change and neither does His care for me.

After an appointment with the surgeon next week, I'll know exactly the way I'm walking. Meanwhile, I know exactly Who I am walking with.