Take care, and remember, I'm always here to pray for you if you have a need or request.
Lois Lynn
resonate: to produce a positive feeling, emotional response, or opinion.
I am in awe of the many ways we are influenced by what is around us; the words we read, the beauty of nature, and often the lyrics and music we hear. I frequently come across things that cause me to pause for a moment as I try to capture it to reflect on later. These are what I'll be sharing with you - a collection of tidbits that resonate with me and I hope you'll find something THAT RESONATES with you.
BRAVE has been a buzzword for several years. I’ve listened to speakers and read books about becoming braver but it’s not working. At least, I don’t think it is. I’ve been taking other steps to improve myself as I ride this moving sidewalk we call life, but I’m not sure I’m building any bravery habits.
At least a year ago, I borrowed a book from the library about being brave. It had a catchy title and was written by someone I enjoyed when I heard them speak, so I thought this might be a different approach worth trying.
100 Days to Brave by Annie F. Downs is written in small doses so I hoped I could do this. I texted a friend who is diligent about striving to be the best person he can be so someone out there would know I was trying this. I made it to day eight.
At my library, we can renew a book fifty times before it must be turned in and checked out again. I chose to do that this week, and my new goal is to read all 100 days…even if it takes me another 365 to do it.
The Bible has numerous references telling us to not be afraid. I think conquering fear plays a big role in being brave. But maybe bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway. Yep…I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that quote a few dozen times before and you probably have, too.
Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash |
I know we each have a purpose we are uniquely called out to live, and it requires us to sometimes be braver than we want to be in order to fulfill that. I’m not saying every moment of our lives is a calling, but yet – I kind of am. Some callings and purposes are for a short season while others may be a part of your entire life.
When I took the church job I had, it was certainly a calling for me. Years later, I sensed that being lifted but I could see the root of my calling was to support others and I found new ways to do that.
Sometimes people will interrupt your calling, leaving you to question if you have a purpose. This is a scary place to be. I know this one from personal experience and I had to use every ounce of my faith to believe that man does not determine my calling and purpose; God does.
It’s easy to confuse your activities with your calling. You may have opened a school where you teach adults from other countries to speak English. You think that’s your calling. Then the school closes due to unforeseen circumstances, and you wake up in bed each day, depressed, believing your purpose has been stripped away. You'd be wrong.
I want to challenge you to look beyond the actions, to God’s
heart for you. Was it really your calling to open that school, or was it to
help people who feel like outsiders believe they belong and are valued equally?
Hmmm…
God will never limit your purpose, He has some big ideas for you. We limit ourselves sometimes, don’t we? Others put limiting beliefs on us if we let them. Break free from the lies we hear, externally and internally, and let’s learn how to be brave together.
One More Thing...
"Oh wait, I know. I should pray about it."
One More Thing...
Sally Brown, Charlie Brown’s
little sister, is famous for screeching, “I’ve been robbed!” She says this to Linus
in the film, “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” when she misses out on the
Halloween goodies by waiting with him in the pumpkin patch.
I feel a bit like her, only I
didn’t miss out on the good stuff. This may sound strange to you because it does
to me. I never got to say, “I have cancer.” Leading up to surgery, I struggled
hard with knowing what to tell people. “I’m having surgery” didn’t seem to be weighty
enough and was dismissed by those who knew the full story, as not being authentic.
In my mind, it was only pre-cancerous, and I was honestly expecting it
to be fine, so I didn’t want to use the “C” word. I felt that dishonored people
who were going through the full process of chemo and/or radiation treatments.
I was afraid I would come
across like the little boy who cried wolf. I didn’t want to be viewed as
dramatic, or untruthful, if the precancerous label turned out to be negative. I
tried to downplay it for two reasons. One, so this fear wouldn’t turn into a
feeling of hypocrisy when all turned out well. The second reason was a sense of
duty to be strong for my friends.
When a woman uses phrases related to cancer, the automatic assumption is breast cancer. I didn’t want to tell people the specifics, but I decided talking about my uterus was easier than leaving people to their assumptions and watch their eyes dart downward. At least there wouldn’t be any staring this way.
These were all uncomfortable
words for me. It took several weeks, but I finally settled on, “I’m having
abdominal surgery for a precancerous stage of endometrial cancer.” This was
completely true, while also still playing it down. I think I got to the point
where I included full hysterectomy in my word choice.
There was no grieving process.
Two months later, I have yet to go through the stages of grief a cancer
diagnosis brings. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that something was
inside my body that could kill me. I now describe it as having something evil
and deadly inside me, but I haven’t found the emotions yet to respond to the
words.
Guilt was another problem. I am
now left with the past-tense version. I HAD cancer. Allow me to be a drama
queen for a moment here. While I had been dismissive, a few people reminded me I
could have died if this was left undiagnosed. There were several cards and gifts
that came when I was facing surgery. I had a couple of people visit me
afterwards.
The problem was, there wasn’t
a diagnosis yet, so people celebrated that I had survived surgery, they got
everything, and even if it was cancer…it wasn’t likely to have spread. That’s
it…celebration period over before I found out I had cancer. There was a small
support circle for the first phase, but when it came to the most difficult
part, I was alone with a cancer diagnosis. I didn’t have cancer now.
It did play into a wonderful
life lesson or two!
Life Lessons I Learned:
The day after my oncologist appointment, I was scheduled to house-sit for some friends for 12 days. It was helpful to them because I could care for their pet, bring in the mail, and keep the place looking occupied. It was thrilling to me because I’ve dreamed of a place to go where I can focus on writing the last few chapters of my book. I think we were all excited for me to have this opportunity. The bags were packed and ready. I was feeling numb and overwhelmed but thought this would be a great way to distract myself.
I am convinced this was God’s gift to me. The homeowner’s trip had changed three times. Any of the previous dates would have provided a wonderful time for my writing plans. This proved to be a time of healing, growing, and discovering. I had a lot to absorb from the past few days. Now I had a serene space with a great view, and my agenda was wide open. Upon arrival, I was greeted with a rainbow splashed across the sky. I knew God was holding me close and would get me through whatever was coming.
My 12 days of isolation to write and enjoy the serenity of lake life went nothing as planned, but completely as needed. Several people who knew showed up via text, video chats, phone calls, lunches, dinners, and visits. I think I only had one day alone. I tried to write during the daytime, from my table and chair overlooking the lake. It didn’t take long to realize I could write any place, at any time. I wouldn’t often be able to sit on a deck and enjoy a water view, so I put down the laptop and watched the geese swim by instead. I intended to write at night and into the early morning hours as a compromise.
I expected it to be dark across the water, removing my source of distraction. I was wrong. The house lights across the lake shimmered on the rippling water and proved to be just as enjoyable as the daytime view. However, the depth of calm was like a warm, weighted blanket draped over me, and I found I was able to sit in complete bliss and stare out at the night until the wee hours of the morning. As I sat there, I often recalled Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.” I could sense God’s presence and comfort while I rested and slowly let go of the control I thought I had. Gorgeous sunsets danced before me almost every evening and Christian music played in the background most of the time to easily keep their pet relaxed. It was slowly restoring my soul. This was God’s place, and I was welcomed in to be loved by Him.
The next few weeks went by in a blur of activity. I had several virtual appointments, some pre-op visits, and a blood draw. I had 18 new questions for my doctor. Surgery was scheduled for April 15th, Good Friday.
I find music to be powerful, so I created a Spotify playlist
to provide encouragement, fun, and sometimes just a distraction. We planned
time off for my husband, I made a list of things to do, we stocked up on
groceries and medications, and we cooked meals to put in the freezer. My goal
was to be self-sufficient and not need anybody’s help. God had another idea.
On a Monday in March, I sent a barrage of memes to a friend. It was cathartic for me, and a lazy way to share my innermost thoughts. There was definitely a theme, including things like how much I wanted to talk about it, but kept quiet instead, how I pretended to be okay to avoid having to explain, and how I knew if I tried to talk, I would cry. The responses I got back were all reminders about resiliency. I replied with a banana dying in bed making the bedside visitors promise to donate its body to banana bread. I was in a wallowing place of fear but I wasn’t going to be allowed to stay there.
The next day God changed my approach to things. I was having a rather emotional day and treated myself to the comfort food at Chick-Fil-A. I was texting with the same friend and got my words twisted around so they conveyed incorrect thoughts. As I tried to clarify them, I responded with, “This is why I don’t call myself a writer. Not always great with words.” Then a beep on my phone with the new message, “You are a writer. Start today identifying as one.” Tears are now streaming down my face with no hope of controlling them or disguising them. They were a result of kind words from a friend, not about the health scare, and it felt good.
About two minutes later, Sylvanna, an employee stopped by my table with a free strawberry sundae. I burst into tears. She saw the tears and asked if I was okay. Instead of my usual insistence that all is well even when it isn’t, I told her I had been diagnosed with a precancerous stage of endometrial cancer and was having surgery next month, but the tears were because of some kind words someone just sent me while I was down…and the ice cream. She asked if she could pray for me and hug me. More tears came, of course! It took the kindness of a stranger coupled with the encouragement from a friend to get me to start accepting care and support.
One week later, I was skipping my church leadership class and driving home from visiting a friend in Seattle. It was only the second time I’d shared some of my deeper fears and the first time I’d listened to my playlist. It proved to be the perfect therapy for six hours on the interstate. At the last minute, I decided to drop by the church building and share what was going on. I caught them just before they were heading out the door and was able to share with one of my pastors and his wife, two other staff pastors, peers, and my class mentor. It was humbling to ask for prayer, but I felt like I was growing in my spiritual development by doing so. I was a little less alone now.
I started answering people's inquiries with, “oh, surgery isn’t until mid-April,” hoping people would forget. God uses the most interesting connections to reach us sometimes. Social media has me connected with people from all seasons of my life. Two of them, unknowingly spoke into me surrendering my unspoken craving for support into God’s capable hands. I struggle here because I want to describe who they are by the role they played in my life, but I don’t want to identify them without their permission. I had two people who were adults when I was in junior high both share major prayer requests with me. Both were completely out of the blue and that convinces me it was God’s timing and plan, and a reminder to invite people to pray. I was encouraged by a family member along the same lines, to have everybody praying for me that would be willing to.
Prayer is something I love to do for others but seldom ask for on behalf of myself. I know God’s heard me, and question if He needs to hear from more people on the same topic. I’m not going to get into doctrine here, but I was convicted to invite people in at this point. That’s when the floodgates opened. Cards started to arrive, and a couple of gifts were dropped off. I received several messages letting me know people were praying for me. A church I do not attend, but I am connected to through a small group, did one of the most amazing grand gestures of help I’ve ever received. These sweet gentlemen installed handrails so I could get in and out of the house safely. I felt loved and allowed myself to feel it.
Surgery day arrived. So many lessons were learned and questions about my faith were answered along the way. I had no fear as I went into surgery. In fact, I was having fun trying to make people smile and feel appreciated and seen. Complete peace surrounded me, and it was precious. After waiting for seven weeks, I was ready for this step and to move on to the unknown next phase.
Recovery was a breeze, and I experienced no pain. I knew it would be two weeks before the full pathology report and a follow-up visit with my doctor, so I sat back to wait.
That night the preliminary report came in confirming a positive result for endometrial cancer. I still had to wait to discuss it with my doctor. Because I wanted to be sure I understood the report, it would be a while before I could share the update. For two weeks, I was a cancer patient, without cancer, and nobody knew. I didn’t know how to process this and was alone with this information and a lot of questions.
Next time I’ll share the conclusion and what’s happened
since then as well as some wonderful insights I had along the way. So many of
you have asked, I hope sharing this piece of my life has encouraged you and/or has answered your questions.