Christine's Response to Claire's Blog Post on Faith

Filled up and overflowing with Love for Claire. And she's right about those God Winks. Searching for them in everyday life is pleasant and rewarding. I think Holly's favorite God Wink may be when the oncologist, Dr. Kettryl used the arcade game, Wack a Mole, as a metaphor for how chemo helps radiation work: The chemo is like a helper to push the moles (cancer cells) up farther so the radiation can smash them more easily. Wack a Mole is big in our family. We have never passed a Wack a Mole or any of its variations without playing it. Dr. Kettryl using Wack a Mole helped give Holly peace about the treatment protocol. After Dr. Kettryl's explanation we got an Extra Big Smile of Relief from Holly.

Faith Without Works is Dead

I'm not sure how to start this blog post because I have never done a blog before. My only experience in blogging was when I worked as my mom's hands while she was receiving a chemo treatment and her hands weren't really up to the challenge. I first signed up as second blogger to this site because we weren't sure how my mom's body would hold up during her treatments and we thought that I may be of some assistance to her to get her word out. Thank you dear God that you kept my mom well enough to continue to spread her good news herself!

Anyway, I just wanted you all to know an additional view to what my mom has experienced in the past few months. I first want to let you all know that from what I have seen, my mom is more powerful than you could ever imagine. She has the strength to stay faithful to Him even when the road leads to what looks like a jagged cliff. She has the willpower to eat only what is good for her body and to take shaking fists full of healing vitamins. She has the patience to be a patient and wear a plastic ugly wristband that brands her as a "sick" person, wait for many nervous moments in reception rooms, and hear good new then bad news, good news then bad news... My mom has had enough understanding that anger hasn't been a part of her daily emotions. She has had the warmth to continue to cheer on others and soothe sore spirits.

My mom has been amazing and it is her body and Him who are doing the healing. You better believe it!

But let me tell you something, it's repeating the title of this post, Faith without works is dead. When my mom and family were faced with this huge inconvenience, we not only put our total faith and trust in God but we started listening to Him and looking for clues that He was with us during some pretty tough times. One of the things that God told us while we were listening was different ways to take care of the inconvenience aside from the treatments that my mom would receive at the hospital. These treatments are:

1. Take a heavy dose of vitamins, daily - This step is to strengthen the body which will, in turn, take care of the nasty quickly-multiplying cells on its own.

2. Drink TONS of alkaline water a day - This step came to us through other people. I believe we first heard of it through a patient, which lead my dad to buy an alkaline water machine. Just in case we didn't put enough worth in the goodness of the machine, we were told about it a second time (after my mom was already using it) at church by a woman who felt led to approach my mom and give her business card that showed she sold the exact same machines. God wink*

3. Get your daily dose of pure oxygen - This step is important because cancer can't live in an oxygenated environment. I look at this step kind of like pouring salt onto a slug. :)

4. Follow doctors' orders - This step was hard for even ME to handle because we aren't just talking about Doctors of Chiropractic! Coming from such a homeopathic family, listening to medical doctors and succumbing to their recommendations was new for us! But God bless those medical doctors. I really think that they were open and willing to let God speak and work through them for the greater good of my mom's health. God bless them! The hospital was also a God wink because we finally got the answer to why my dad wasn't supposed to be allowed to quit Cancer Treatment Centers of America. God wink**

And last but not least, 5. Get on her knees and pray - This step was to draw everyone that was inconvenienced closer to Him. Over time we found that we weren't only speaking to Him to beg for help or strength for my mom but, we were also speaking to Him to show thanks and joy for what was happening daily in our lives.

Back to the "God winks*", these were the clues that we were looking for on a daily basis that God was/is with us and in on the healing. One example of when God winked is when my mom and I sat in an appointment with one of my mom's doctors. I felt the need to pray that God would speak to the doctor and that God would help the doctor make smart decisions in the treatments that my mom would be receiving in the weeks and months to come. It wasn't seconds later that the doctor stopped and shared that the thing that would really get my mom well was her faith in God. God winked at me and I was filled with joy. So far that has been my favorite wink. It told me straight away that if God is for us, who (and what) can be against us? I'm sure when you look closer at your day-to-day life, you will find a ton of God winks. You have to be looking though. Pay attention to His daily blessings!

So to conclude this post, I want everyone to know that my mom did this with the help of God, the support and outpouring of love from her friends and family that kept her positive (the evidence is hung all over the house in greeting card form), and her willingness and strength to take her struggle day-by-day.

I, personally, appreciate all that everyone has done for my mom these past months. She means the world to my family and me and we like having her around. Keep up the good works and the fabulous support! I love you mom!

Do not be anxious about ANYTHING?

My adoring and adorable husband, Howard, brought me this scripture: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. (Phil 4:6). In EVERYTHING with THANKSGIVING!??? Wow. Tall order, I'd say. Be thankful about the last six months. Really, now. Actually, yes, really. What a Hoot! The first time Howard prayed, "Thank you for the blessings of Christine's cancer", I shuddered a might. It kinda creeps me out to type it. That word, "Cancer" is like "Voldemort" the demon character in Harry Potter whose name no one would repeat. Bad Evil names better left un-uttered. And, yet. Likening a limiting physical "issue" to an imaginary book character, no matter how terrifying and dreadful, is curiously funny and strips it of its power to inflict fear. Cancer is powerless in my life compared to the Real Power, the "Deep Magic" as C.S. Lewis named it. That "Deep Magic" is something Harry Potter would be wise to investigate. I've tickled myself. I'm smiling at this silliness. Super.

So, the last MRI showed continued shrinkage of the tumor(s). TA DA!!!!! From the Radiological Oncologists' standpoint, I'm done and cured. From the Oncologist's and Oncological surgeon's standpoint, a "spring cleaning" is in order. I can't help but think of that scripture that says something about if your right eye offend thee, pluck it out. That has my vote. I thought it would be soon. That's what they told us. Now, the surgery has been postponed until I am stronger. Recovery will be easier if I'm better rejuvenated and rested. I am OK with this; even the waiting part. We were assured that the radiation is still active which is why I am tired and weak, still, so there is no risk in waiting. I go back the 22nd of June for blood work to gauge my recovery and whether the surgery can then be done. Until then, and as always, God is taking care of me.

I have more tattoos than anyone in my family, but who's counting?

It's a Friday in T-town. Lots going on this weekend. Most of it without me. I am gaining strength, thank you, God, but have to measure my day in itty bitty increments. Yesterday, I answered the call of the vacuum and did way too much "putting things away". Sorry, mama. Then, I went to the store to buy a shower gift and, by the time I got there and found the registry and walked to the place where the proposed gift sat, I had run out of energy. Crud. That box was ENORMOUS! So, Margot is getting a gift card which is about all I could carry by then. (Ssssshhhhh. Don't tell her. I want her to be surprised... as if a gift card is all that special. Can't muster special, though I bought her wedding gift months ago and it IS special. )

I hope people whose family members go through this getting well process have some patience and empathy. People keep telling me how "good" I look and how "well" I'm doing. I am so relieved and, yet, there's a part of me that wants to shout, "Don't expect anything, I'm kinda weak!" And is this ever a departure from how I felt in January when I didn't want anyone to even think I might have the capacity to be weak!!! I even cried in frustration thinking that someone would have to take care of me! Oh, Irony of Ironies. Right? So, it's personal growth to say, "I am weak, I need help." Just as long as I can quietly remind myself, "This too shall pass", I can do this. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me... everything from having babies at home and driving across country alone with them to having those grown babies take care of me while I'm healing at home and them driving cross country alone to help me get well.

Then, there is my Heavenly Father who is taking care of me, whose strength is perfected in my weakness. Getting to know who's in charge, who is REALLY taking care, has been an evolution of the finest personal growth, one that relieves me greatly and is the Rock on which I stand. This kind of weakness-- knowing I don't have to be in charge of the Big Picture and that no amount of perceived control or chaos or efforting or lacking effort or knowledge or the lack of it will make a difference. Yielding and praying, receiving and rejoicing are where it's at and thank you God for that.

So We Wait

They say (whoever they are) that patience is a virtue. The Bible says, "But if we look forward to something we don't have, yet, we must wait with patience and confidence." Rom 8:24 . This is a challenge. Miss Holly maintains it's why our family was put on earth: to Learn Patience. This is particularly clear to me right now as the chemo is done and all the radiation, internal and external, is finished. Now, we wait. (It hit me like a moist dirt clod on my way home from the last procedure: "Crud, now I have to WAIT!" And with that thought came fear.) My next appointment is May 24th for an MRI* update. The next day is a round of doctor appointments to prepare me for the last surgery (maybe the following week) and give me a status report.

This month-long Rest is hard! Not because I have too much to do, which typifies my ordinary life, but because I have little I'm supposed to do and, therefore, all the time in the world to Imagine. While I have been planning fun stuff and making plans for trips and pleasant days with good friends I have, unfortunately, had ample time to "Imagine the Worst".

Doing is easier. I have trouble empathizing with folks who don't DO. Filling my day is REALLY easier. But not now when doing a load of clothes is a five step ordeal with multiple rest stops in between. Or when looking at the weeds in my flower beds is just an annoyance because bending over makes me dizzy. Or staying away from the storage room when the vacuum is calling my name (Don't worry, mama, I've taped its mouth shut).

I've got to say that this part of the process of healing and regaining strength to endure the final surgery calls for as much radical faith as the earlier portion when the hospital and extra unhappy sensations filled my days. Again, I'm left with too much opportunity to imagine. Oh. I get it. I can work on IMAGINING THE FINEST OUTCOME. I will immediately cover negativity with wonderful things and shut those "drunken monkeys on my shoulder" up with faithfully crafted pictures of the blessings of old age and good health and loving people and God's promise. This blog just helped me. Doing this blog helped fix and free my mind. Doing is still my friend.

So, if you can't reach me on the phone and wonder how I am, don't think I'm lonely or unwell or scared. Please, just imagine me reaching out to touch Jesus's hem or being lowered by people who love me through the roof just to be near His side or just imagine me claiming how strong and useful I am becoming as I grow to a ripe and scrappy old age knowing all the while that God is Taking Care of Me every every every day. Because that's what I'll be Doing. "You have allowed me to suffer much hardship, but You Will restore me to life, again, and lift me up from the depths of the earth." Ps 71:20

*Note: If you ever have to have an MRI just lie there and pretend you are a stationery component in a video game. There are all kinds of grinding and popping and clicking sounds from the machine similar to a video game and they usually have you listen to music on headphones so just pick a bouncy music like you'd hear in an arcade and lie there and make like a motherboard and it will help. Additional note: If the MRI requires a full bladder, don't let them use any "relaxing" music with water sounds (rain, a babbling brook, a WATERFALL). This will make your experience particularly unpleasant. Believe me. The techs and I both learned something that day.

Live Woman Walking

"Live Woman Walking!" is what I said as I left recovery suite #2 on Wednesday. "Live Woman Walking" ...not even needing a wheel chair like the four times before, but walking. I'm almost done with my tacky little "c" and all the long hours of discomfort. I have alot of Resting to do, still, and some check ups and blood lettings, probably, but I can do this. My next task may be to Release all the negativity and turn my memories into neutral observations. I will walk away from this not only alive, but improved, somehow. Just Watch Me.

I will also sit down and pray over every card and note and hand drawn picture I have received. One memory I will certainly never view as neutral is the overwhelming love of the people in my life. My acupuncturist, Melissa, has bent over backwards to provide me time. Our babysitter from when the kids were small came at SIX in the MORNING on Wednesday to hug me and pray with Howard and me. Overwhelming! My sisters drove for hours and hours to spend just about as many hours with me to smooch and pet and entertain. My daughters have shown up every chance they have had to fold my clothes or style my hair and my mother... I can not express to you or her the depth and breadth of my devotion to a woman who has taken her caring for me to a new unparalleled selfless level. I could not imagine. I don't want to imagine how horrid it would have been without her ever-present company and TLC. Of Course, Howard J. Honey lifts me and encourages me and makes me laugh and has been doing so for 30 years. And, then, there is my High Tower, my Comfort, my Counselor who is taking care of me.

(There's a video on youtube of the ribbon/chain cutting ceremony we held of cutting off my hospital bracelets. Search Live Woman Walking or check the link on Facebook.)

A truly lovely dinner

Last night, Howard J. Honey and I were treated to dinner by our wonderful friends, Mike and Susan Burkhart. It was a celebration of sorts because Peter Mayer is in town and we always appreciate his voice, spirit, and good-humored company. We went to Fusco's on the river and drank wine on the patio as the sun set and, then, went inside just for the Halibut. Our conversation drifted from how our children still (pleasantly) surprise us, how Pete's daughter, India is graduating high school and why-on-earth-did-Pete-encourage-his-kids-to-go-away-to-school to talking about God's strength being perfected in our weakness and blessings upon blessings upon blessings. I love the people I was with last night. Their openness and support and the opportunity to laugh out loud is an incredible priceless gift. I certainly love my husband. How hard this has all been for him. Atlas shrugged. So far, Howard has only fidgeted some.

Howard felt comfortable enough in our loving company last night, to reveal something I did not know: That my chances of overcoming the little c, statistically, were not good. News to me, but he has known from the beginning. Again, how hard has this been for him! But here is what is so about this: It doesn't matter what the statistics are. I am. And I am here if God wants me here and in Heaven if he doesn't. Those of you who know me know I always tout the Win-Win options. This is one of those. My sense is that I'm sticking to this earthly coil for awhile. Really. I have clear visions of opening Goodland's new campus. (I also have visions of grand babies, but they are more like the sugarplum dreams of Christmas Eve.) I like being here. I have work to do, people to love and be loved by, and joy to experience, but, frankly, either way, God is taking care of me.