Family

Chemo day yesterday. 8 down and 4 to go. We ran into a friend and co-worker at the hospital who is a recent survivor of esophageal cancer. He is walking testimony to God's power and it was a great way to start the morning.

I guess we're getting to be "old hats" because as soon as we walk off the elevators of the 5th floor at MD Anderson, we're greeted by first name and smiles by Elaine and GiGi. I wonder if they know what an impact their kindness makes on us every Tuesday morning. Next week, I'm going to make it a point to tell them.

Our chemo nurse was sweet. Her name was Mignon and I resisted all urges to associate her name with a steak. I'm sure she has had more than her share of that in her lifetime. Labs came back good enough to get treatment. Still anemic, but I have to admit we haven't been pushing the liver and onions. The infection fighting white blood cells are even lower than last week, but I haven't gotten sick yet. Thank you Lord! I always breathe a little prayer of thanks when the labs pass because I don't want any delay in treatment.

Carl had to leave for a doctor appointment but I was in the room with an older couple we had been with before so we had a nice visit. Time for the steroids, then benadryl then the chemo. It was absolutely freezing in the treatment room, and once the benadryl took effect I buried myself in my quilt and went to sleep.

Carl got back and we picked up a big bowl of homemade chicken soup from Ann that her mom had made, then headed straight home. I took something for the nausea and went right back to sleep.

Later that afternoon, I decided that I didn't want another 48hour marathon of no sleep brought on by the steroids. We were planning to go to North Carolina the next day to see my youngest son Brent stationed at Camp Lejuene and his wife Sabrina and our two little grandbabies Lincoln and Ches. So I called my oncologist and told them I was ready for a prescription to sleep. Ellen, his nurse is so sweet. She laughed and said "You are one of the most stubborn patients I have. Most people are asking for something the first week and you held off for 6 months. You need the rest and that's what it's for." So I got a good night's sleep last night despite the steroids.

And today is a NEW day. Lamentations 3:23! The day to see family far away. We picked up Sabrina's great grandmother so she could see her great- great grandbabies. "Nanny" is a spry, happy, fun to be around 84 year young lady. She walks faster than I do and is a joy to have along on the trip. Carl has done all the driving because the nausea was pretty bad and I ended up having to take something. But he and nanny both had large cups of coffee and are busy chatting away. I've been sitting in the back seat reading from the book of Proverbs. I love the book of Proverbs and wanted to share a passage from it today.

"The Lord formed me from the beginning. I was His constant delight, rejoicing always in His presence. And how happy I am with all He created - His wide world and all his human family." (Proverbs 8:22&31).

What a gift He has given us in family! Whether our families are large or small, near or far, He created them to bring us joy. They are one of His gifts to us. Sometimes we get aggravated with them, we squabble, we argue, we take them for granted. But they are still our family and God has given them to us for our "delight."

And I can't wait to delight in my grandbabies today!!

As a Child

My heart is so heavy today. My co-worker and friend died yesterday. She was young. She was
vibrant. She was a wonderful NICU nurse. She was a friend to many. But more than all of that, she was a wife and "mommy" to three, beautiful little boys. She went into the hospital yesterday to have her fourth baby and never got to see him.

She died during childbirth. And today there is a grieving husband with 3 young boys and a brand new baby without their mommy. Why, Why Why? Through our tears we shout, "Why did you let this happen God? Why didn't you stop it? Why are you so mean?"

I think that no matter where we are in our faith journey, we can't help in times like this, but to ask why? Maybe if we can see some reason, it will be easier to accept. Perhaps, we are looking for someone or something to blame. If only we could figure it out, maybe we could accept it. And we keep looking for answers to our whys.

As the little children came up for their children's message in church today, I looked at each of their faces. They were smiling. They were happy. They didn't seem to have a care in the world. They weren't trying to figure out the answers to all the problems in their little world. They were simply being children. And my heavy heart was lightened just a bit.

When the children were leaving, I noticed a father in the back of the church holding a baby. The baby didn't seem the least bit worried that he might be dropped. He just assumed that since he was in his father's arms, everything would be alright. He trusted his father completely. That's all he needed to know.

Later, during the sermon, Carl shared a story about a little boy whose father was a surgeon. One day he was playing with his friends and they began to tease him and say, "your daddy is a mean man. He gets people unconscious where they can't do anything. He lays them on a big table and just cuts them right down the middle. Then he takes things out and throws them away. Then your daddy sews them up and takes them to a room where they cry and cry. Your daddy is a mean man." And the little boy said to his friends "He is not a mean man! I don't know why my daddy does that to people but I know one thing for sure. My daddy is a good and kind man and he loves me." And he went off to play. He had no answers for his friends. He only knew that his daddy loved him. And that was enough.

Proverbs 3:5 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." Children have no answers, they can't lean on their own understanding. They simply know that their father is a kind and good man and that He loves them. That is enough for them.

Oh to have the simple trust of a child!

Heavenly Father, I ask this day that you would bring comfort, peace and strength to all who have loved Michelle. That you especially would wrap your arms around her husband and sweet little boys. Help us to trust you, Lord, even when we don't have any answers. Remind us, when bad things happen, that you do love us. Teach us, Father, to become as little children again. Amen

Another Lesson Learned

Ever since I was a teenager, I have been complaining about my hair. My sister Chery had beautiful hair. I was always envious of her long, straight dark hair while I got stuck with the wild, curly, wavy, unruly red hair. She could go straight from the shower to school with her beautiful hair and not have to do a thing. I, on the other hand, had to iron mine with wax paper or roll it on coke cans (not conducive to a good night's sleep). And as soon as it rained, which was everyday in Seattle, all ironing was gone and I looked like little "Orphan Annie" again.

Even as I got older, I was always complaining about how long it took to fix my hair. Eventually I got a really short hair cut thinking that would help. (When you get up at 4:30 in the morning for work, every second counts.) But I still complained.

Yesterday morning I woke up so fatigued I could barely get out of bed. But I really wanted to see my good friend who was in the hospital. It was about 95 degrees outside so the wig was definitely out. Wigs are hot and scratchy and after a couple of hours they leave a dent in your head so you end up with a headache.

So I decided on a scarf. Even after 6 months, I have not gotten the hang of tying these scarves. So I worked and I worked. My arms felt like lead weights trying to hold them up because I was so tired. I just couldn't get it. Finally in my frustration, I ripped off the scarf and got my hairbrush out of the drawer and began to run it over my bald head, crying all the while. How was it I spent so many years complaining about my hair? Was this my payback? Was this another of my life's lessons to be learned?

Luckily, Carl came in just then and rescued me from myself. Seeing my tears, he just pulled me close and held me. And it was okay again. After a few moments, I pulled it together, and was ready to make another attempt at the scarf.

Yes, I guess it was another life lesson I needed to learn. And I got it this time. For, I know that when I do get my hair back, no matter what color it comes in or how straight or curly is, I will never, ever complain about it.