I Love To Go A Gardening
Growing Our Life in Northern Michigan
The Very Big City
We got up before the sun did this morning to drive to the sperm bank in the Very Big City. This is JJ’s third trip there.
I can appreciate that Very Big Cities have wonderful museums, performing arts centers, libraries, international restaurants, zoos, and other marvels, all of which I think are amazing. However, I hate Very Big Cities. I hate people and buildings everywhere, and the frantic pace, and the aggressive attitudes, and the awful traffic. This morning there was an accident, which we never saw, somewhere ahead of us that caused traffic to back up for miles and miles. We and hundreds of thousands of others slowed to a crawl and sometimes to a stop. At one point, a pickup started to move left into our lane. He almost sideswiped us. I sort of screamed. “Don’t ever, ever scream while I am driving,” EJ said. Yeah, right, how can a person not scream when she sees death approaching? A scream is not always a conscious act. All the time we were in the clutches of the Very Big City, I felt like this:
We have only one more trip to the sperm bank in the Very Big City–on Thursday–and then maybe we will never have to go there again. I hope not. I am so completely a small town girl.
My guys curled up on couch and chair and napped as soon as we got home. I quickly prepared lunch and then also tried to nap, but I only slightly dozed.
Tomorrow we have to get up early again. JJ has surgery to put his port in at 9 a.m. EST. Tonight is going to be a long ordeal because he is dreading it so much. The drive to the hospital might also be an ordeal if we get the freezing rain that I’ve heard is possible.
The Prayer Blanket
Today was my and EJ’s anniversary. We have been married for 23 years. I am glad he is my husband and my very best friend.
To celebrate, we ordered food from our favorite local restaurant, and they delivered it to our door. Other than that, EJ caught up on some much-needed sleep and I took the time to pay bills. It’s a relief to get that task out of the way.
JJ was a member of the local Boy Scout troop for several years. This last Spring he became an Eagle Scout. An Eagle Scout is the highest rank attainable in the Boy Scouts of America. Not many achieve this rank. In order to become an Eagle Scout, a boy must earn at least 21 merit badges and demonstrate Scout Spirit through the Boy Scout Oath and Law, service, and leadership. This includes an extensive service project that the Scout plans, organizes, leads, and manages. JJ’s project was cleaning up and installing a new liner in a pond in a community park the village is developing.
When a Scout turns 18-years-old, he is no longer a member of the troop unless he becomes an adult leader. However, a couple of days ago, the Scoutmaster of JJ’s troop called to ask him if he would attend the Court of Honor at the local church tonight. A Court of Honor is a ceremony held twice a year in which Scouts are awarded the merit badges they have earned and advance in rank. After the Court of Honor in December there is usually a potluck.
After we had eaten, but without bringing JJ embarrassing attention, JJ was given a card that all the members of the troop had signed. He was also given a blanket that the ladies of the church had made. The Scoutmaster told us that the congregation had prayed over it before giving it to JJ. An accompanying card said:
Someone Cares
This Blanket was prayerfully made for you by the United Methodist Women’s Local Ministries Group, and has been blessed by our congregation. May it bring you comfort as you heal.
I thought it was very sweet, especially since we have only ever gone to this church for Scout meetings and events. JJ will take it with him to Chemo next week. It is very warm and has wolves all over it. We laughed that he is an Eagle Scout, has a Bear hat, and now a Wolf blanket. He seems to be collecting animals.
I thought the Scoutmaster was close to tears several times as he talked to us and JJ tonight.
Tomorrow we have to get up at 5 a.m. to make another two-hour trip to the sperm bank. Tuesday we have to get up early again to go to the hospital to have the port put in. JJ is extremely nervous about the port.
JJ said tonight that his armpits ached a bit. This concerns me that maybe his cancer has spread. We didn’t recognize the symptoms of cancer before. Now every ache is suspect. I will be glad when his treatment begins so we can’t start actively fighting it.
Whirlwind of Busyness
The last week has been a whirlwind of busyness. The busyness exhausts us, but mostly our spirits are good.
Monday morning JJ had an appointment with the surgeon who will be putting in the port on this coming Tuesday. He showed us what a port looks like. I only half looked and listened because it makes me nauseous. Of all the things that has happened in JJ’s life in the last month, this makes him the most nervous. He’s really struggling with it.
Monday afternoon JJ had a Pulmonary Function Test, which measures his lung capacity. Only one of us could be with him during the hour-long test, so EJ chose to go this time while I sort of dozed in a small waiting room.
Tuesday we had an appointment at the sperm bank in a large city that was two hours away. EJ almost never gets lost, but we were tired, and we got turned around in the big city, called the sperm bank for directions, got turned around again, and finally arrived at the appointment an hour late. Fortunately, the people at the sperm bank are incredibly nice and understanding and weren’t upset that we were late. They were also very informative about the process and procedures. I found the whole thing very sci-fi and fascinating.
Wednesday JJ needed a blood test for his port surgery. I ended up staying home because our friend was going to return JJ’s computer, which he was repairing. It turns out JJ will need a new computer tower. He’s frustrated by the lack of a computer because his favorite game is very complex and only a gaming computer can handle it. I’d love to get him a new tower, but I don’t know when or how that will happen. While my guys were gone, I began to clean and organize the house in preparation for Chemo. I got the downstairs cleaned.
Thursday was Thanksgiving. EJ’s sister had invited us to their house, but there was going to be a lot of people there and we didn’t want to risk JJ getting sick and having his treatment delayed so we stayed home. I like large Thanksgiving gatherings, but I’m very glad we stayed home because we were utterly exhausted. EJ put the turkey in the roaster and I prepared yams and stuffing and made two pumpkin pies and a mincemeat pie. Then we sat and relaxed for a bit, watching the parade and football.
Later in the afternoon, I cleaned and organized the upstairs. Until JJ was diagnosed with cancer, we had been getting ready to build bookshelves downstairs, so I had not worried about finding space for new books because I thought we’d be bringing them all downstairs. So books were everywhere in the library/guest room. We have five bookcases in the library/guest room and books are double and tripled stacked and piled high. We love books. I mostly needed to clean that room so JJ can use the treadmill which is also in the room. The doctors say it will be important that he gets some exercise through all this. It will be easier for him to take a moment or two to walk on the treadmill than to go for a walk outside, especially if the weather turns nasty.
Later in the afternoon, EJ began preparations for the new washing and dryer. Years ago, our friend’s son-in-law hit a rough time and needed some money, so we paid him to do some construction work. The young man’s Dad owned a construction business and he had been learning the trade too. The problem is that the guy never listened to what we wanted. We had him put in our old stackable washer/dryer, which required some electrical work to put in a new socket (or something) but rather than do that, he hard-wired the stackable into the electrical box. That’s just crazy. So yesterday EJ had to unwire it so he could move the old stackable out of the bathroom. He was very careful, but something loosened up and we lost half the electricity in our house. It took an hour or two to track down the loose connection and restore power. EJ needs to put in a socket for the washer/dryer (the job he had originally wanted the young man to do), as well as other work. He didn’t have all the supplies he needed and the home improvement stores were closed, so he couldn’t finish the work. Just as well, we were all exhausted.
Friday EJ drove JJ back to the sperm bank while I stayed home to wait for the new washer/dryer to be delivered. While I waited, I made Challah Bread and homemade turkey pot pies. I also brought in wood and walked to the local little store for milk. I was really glad that the delivery men didn’t arrive until my guys got home. In fact, they arrived seconds after my guys did. EJ was able to tell them exactly what he wanted them to do. After the washer/dryer was brought in and the delivery guys had left, I fed my guys and then JJ went to his room for a nap while EJ and I drove to the hardware store (the little near one, not the big farther one) for supplies. He spent the next few hours working in the basement to do the necessary work to hook up the washer/dryer. He made great progress, but didn’t get it all finished.
We recently bought Amazon Prime, which allows us to get free shipping on many items we order at Amazon. Since we haven’t been able to find time to get to the store, I have been ordering things on Amazon. I have bought things to use at home when Chemo starts–like medical gloves and masks and a digital thermometer and healthy jello. And since we need to keep our spirits strong, I ordered a couple of bird feeders and a hook-thing to hang them on. EJ has been wanting to feed the birds for years now so this is for him, although we will all enjoy it. We will put the feeders outside the living room window. It will be fun and relaxing to watch the birds. I’ve already found our bird identification books and put them nearby. I hope we will get more than sparrows, but even they will be fun to watch.
As we sat in the waiting room a week or two ago waiting for the Chemo Class to begin, JJ made a bet with me about whether or not I would faint during the class. He lost–I did NOT faint–so I ordered him a dorky bear hat from Amazon. It arrived this last week. He told me that he has to complain about it in order to safeguard his masculinity, but secretly he really likes it. It keeps his head very warm. The sides go down into a scarf and ends with paws. The paws are actually pockets. I think he’s very adorable, my cub sitting there with his bear hat on.
Our car needs new tires and because we have so much to do and so little time to do it, we were going to get it done today, even though it’s Shabbat when we take a day to simply rest. EJ also needs to finish up the washer-dryer hookup this weekend. However, we are so exhausted that I think we can’t push ourselves anymore. We absolutely need this day to rest. We can wait until tomorrow to finish the work.
Hanukkah began Wednesday evening. It’s a beautiful holiday about letting our lights shine in the darkness, and not letting the darkness of the culture overcome us or our faith. It is probably during this holiday that Yeshua (Jesus) was conceived. (His birthday was probably during Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, in which God became flesh and dwelt–or tabernacled–among us). I love the beauty and meaning of Hanukkah.
Hanukkah lasts for eight days. So last night, at sunset, we stopped working and lit our Hanukkah candles. Then we celebrated the beginning of Shabbat. As the beautiful candles were lit, we felt peace descend.
Now we rest.
More about Hanukkah:
Hebrew for Christians: Information about Hanukkah
Biblical Holidays: Why Are Christians Celebrating Hanukkah?
The Adventurers
Writing about stories and adventures made me think of a couple of poems I wrote a couple of years ago. They were inspired by The Hobbit and my own life. I’ve really always been quite a Hobbit at heart.
The Adventurer
I sit by the fire
In my nice cozy nest
Content to read books
Of knights on great quests
It’s not that I mind
Adventures or danger
Or travel to lands
That grow ever stranger
I’ll gladly climb mountains
And sail stormy seas
If I’m able to do it
While sipping hot teas
I’ll boldly steal treasure
From the fierce dragon’s lair
If I’m snuggled quite safely
In my old rocking chair.
The Safe Adventurer
Or put down the book.
In-Between Chapters
Today was extremely busy.
This morning I washed our clothes at the laundromat. I told EJ that he didn’t have to go with me since he had just woke up and his back hurt, but when I got to the laundromat I realized I had forgotten the detergent so I called him and he walked to the laundromat to deliver it to me. Then he walked back home to finish his breakfast.
After I got home and the first load of wet clothes in the dryer, I took out the garbage and then went into the back yard to stack wood. We had had two face cords delivered yesterday. I didn’t tell EJ that I was stacking wood because I wanted him to rest his back. I got more than half the wood stacked before he discovered me, and then he helped me finish.
Back in the house, EJ started cooking lunch while I helped JJ with the forms he has to fill out in preparation for the appointment with the surgeon tomorrow. I also printed out maps for our appointments for the next two days. All are at places we have never been to before.
I looked through the packet of information that we were given at the Chemo Class a few days ago so I would know what foods and items JJ will need when he has Chemo, and which things he needs to avoid. There is a lot to learn and remember. One thing I learned is that if JJ gets any bodily fluids on any clothing, we have to immediately wash them TWICE. I was content to wash my clothes at the laundromat each week, but since it would be unreasonable and exhausting and impossible to immediately run to the laundromat if/whenever JJ vomits, EJ and I decided it was time to buy a new washer and dryer.
Our washer/dryer is in our downstairs bathroom. The space is only big enough for a stackable washer/dryer. A couple of years ago the washer part broke and money has been a bit tight, so we’ve been washing our clothes at the laundromat and bringing them home to dry–either in the dryer part or outside on the clothesline. A few months ago we brainstormed about possibly reconfiguring our bathroom so we could fit in a separate washer and dryer. That way if one broke we’d only have to replace that one and not both. But we don’t have time to reconfigure bathrooms right now so EJ found a stackable at Lowes website and off we went.
We stopped first at our friend RB’s house to borrow his truck because we were planning to bring the washer/dryer home with us. Then we drove on to Lowes. They didn’t have any stackables in stock. Stackables are a special order item and would not be delivered until the day before JJ begins Chemo, which is too late to get it set up. With all the appointments we will be driving to in the next couple weeks, we really needed to buy a stackable today, but it looked like we couldn’t. As soon as we got in the truck, I prayed that God would help us find one. Then I opened my eyes and saw Sears. “Oh! Let’s try Sears!” I urged. So we went into the store. We found washers and dryers that are separate and can be placed side by side or they can be stacked one on top of the other. They are pretty cool. That’s just perfect. They will fit in our bathroom space, but if one breaks, both don’t need to be replaced. They will be delivered on Black Friday, and I think the delivery men will set them up and help hook them up. Now I won’t have to worry about running to the laundromat during JJ’s Chemo.
On the way home, we stopped at RB’s to drop off his truck and retrieve our car. We ended up visiting with him and his 18-year-old daughter for longer than we expected. We talked a lot about suffering and faith.
RB’s daughter reads this blog [Hi, CB!], and she said that she thinks my blog is written in layers. She said she doesn’t know how to explain it, but in one layer she reads emotions like pain, fear, weariness, and so forth, but in another layer she thinks it’s almost as if we enjoy suffering because I write about how God is working in our lives through everything. I really do not like suffering, of course, and she realizes that, but I have experienced God doing some amazing things in and around me through it. I think CB pretty much understands.
A few weeks ago I wrote about being in the middle of the story. A related topic that I have been pondering is that I sometimes feel as if some motivational stories are lacking something. I’m probably just very weird because I know that motivational stories can be very inspiring. And I realize, of course, that a lot of times people have limited time to share their stories, and they want to get across the very real truth that they have found God to be faithful in every difficulty. I really do get it.
But sometimes the stories feel unfinished to me, as if the speaker began with Chapter 1 and then jumped to the last Chapter. I supposed any story could actually be summed up in a sentence or two. Like: “Frodo traveled to Mordor with Sam and threw the One Ring into the fire of Mt. Doom. The End.” But what kind of story is that? All stories describe not just the beginning and the end, but the journey in-between. I think a reader has to follow the heroes through all the chapters of the story, sharing in the dangers, the temptations, the agony, the pain. He has to wonder if the hero will overcome and survive the journey. Only then can he understand the victory at the end.
I believe that our lives are stories, and I love to hear about the journey. When people share only the first and last chapters of their stories (“I encountered a difficulty…God delivered me.) I always wonder what happened in the chapters in-between. I believe that God can give a person supernatural peace and strength to make it through a difficulty. Of course He can. But I also think that our lives are a journey of faith, a process in which we grow through the story, and most people don’t go through life without some in-between chapters. Hearing only the first and last chapters of a person’s story make it sound (to me) as if there was nothing but unwavering faith, unassailable doubt, and joyful songs. But surely in between the beginning of the difficulty and the end of it, there must have been struggle, tears, heartache, at least at some point? So I want to know “What’s the whole story?”
I love stories. I love all the chapters of a story, even the scary and sad parts in the middle when all seems lost. For example, my favorite part of Star Wars The Phantom Menace is when everything seems lost: the group storming the palace are captured. Those fighting on the battlefield are defeated by the droids. Little Anakin accidentally hit the autopilot on the plane and is taken to the space station where he is surrounded by the enemy. The odds are overwhelming. Everyone is defeated. Everything is hopeless. I love this part because it sets the stage for the glorious victory later. I can’t understand the victory without understanding the pain. I can’t understand the destination without sharing the journey. If I don’t read the in-between chapters of the story, I can’t understand the ending. At least, that’s what I think.
That’s why I don’t just write about the good, happy, strong days. I also write about the tiring days, and the scary days, and the discouraging days of my journey. Good stories have danger, risk, temptation, weakness, pain, and/or enemies that need to be overcome. In good stories, readers don’t know if the heroes will survive. In good stories, the characters are transformed on the journey.
I love good stories. I love reading them and I love telling them. Our battle with cancer is a story. People reading it should wonder if we will survive the journey? Will we overcome the danger? Will we be transformed? Only boring stories have no danger and predictable endings.
Sometimes when I complain that our own story is getting a bit too scary, EJ says, “You don’t want our life to be a boring story, do you?”
I want to end this post with a YouTube video. I think songs are stories set to music. In this hilarious video, comedian Tim Hawkins shortens some musical stories to one sentence or verse. As you can see, without all the verses, a lot of the story is lost.
Appointment Controller
I am beginning to feel like an air traffic controller, only I am directing appointments instead of airplanes. So many appointments are being set up now, and I have to try to make sure they don’t collide with each other. It’s hectic.
We had almost forgotten the appointment EJ had made months ago for a physical. We realized Wednesday that the appointment was Friday and that he needed lab work done. EJ actually called the doctor’s office to cancel because he didn’t think that the lab would have time to send the results to the doctor. The receptionist encouraged EJ to go to the appointment anyway. So Thursday EJ and I got up early to drive about 45 minutes or so to the lab. There weren’t many people in the waiting room, so he quickly was taken back…and then quickly returned. The blood couldn’t be drawn because he hadn’t fasted as he was supposed to have done. Oops. As we walked out to the car, we decided that we don’t have time or energy for this so we’d just reschedule. I called while EJ drove home. The first available appointment for a physical is in March. That will work.
Thursday afternoon the surgeon’s office called to set up a consultation appointment on Monday morning. At that appointment, we will make an appointment to put in the port. The receptionist emailed me forms to be filled out before the appointment, and I saw that we have to bring JJ’s CT Scans with us to the appointment. So I called the place where his scans were done and arranged to pick them up on Friday. So it’s just as well that EJ had to cancel his physical.
Yesterday morning I got a call from the Cancer Center to set up an appointment for a Pulmonary Function Test (PFT), which is a group of tests that measure how well the lungs take in and release air and how well they move gases such as oxygen from the atmosphere into the body’s circulation. (I am learning all sorts of new words and procedures these days.) I pointed out that the appointment was after Chemo begins, and I asked if that was a problem. “I’ll have to talk to the doctor and get back to you,” she said. She called back in the afternoon with a new appointment scheduled for this Monday, the same day as our appointment with the surgeon.
The surgeon’s office is in one city, the PFT is at a hospital in another city, and the appointments are only 2 1/2 hours apart. So I called the surgeon’s office to see how long the consultation was expected to take (45-60 mins) and I used Google maps to see how long the trip between cities will take (30 mins) and I think we can make both with no problem. I was proud of my thinking to do this. Hopefully there are no long delays.
When the Cancer Center called yesterday morning, I was also given a phone number so I could make an appointment with the Sperm Bank. There is a risk that Chemo could cause sterility, so many men choose to bank their sperm so they can have children later. The Cancer Center receptionist said that insurance will probably not cover it. I said that I know that she can’t give me specific answers since she doesn’t work for the Sperm Bank, but did she have any general idea of how much this costs? She said there was an initial consultation fee of about $300-$500. She understood that JJ would have to make five “deposits” before Chemo begins, and each would cost about $250, and then there are fees to store the sperm. Ouch.
On the way to pick up the scans, EJ, JJ, and I discussed the various aspects of this: the reality of the expense (in addition to lots of other medical expenses), the future hope of having children, the emotional ramifications of having our family line cease if we decide we can’t do the Sperm Bank, and where faith comes into all this. We decided that we’d set up the initial consultation to find out more information and then decide whether to continue or stop.
I called the Sperm Bank when we got home. I told the receptionist about JJ having testicular cancer and said I know nothing about Sperm Banks. She very kindly told me that she’d answer all my questions. She verified that insurance usually doesn’t cover Sperm Banks because even though a man is doing this because of cancer, the “mean ol’ insurance companies” consider this a choice, not a necessity. She said five deposits are required because each deposit is considered a “try” and a woman doesn’t always get pregnant on the first try. Each deposit must be made at least 48 hours apart. There is an initial consultation fee (I have $500 written down but don’t know if that’s correct), and includes testing for various things. Each deposit is $230, which covers testing and 6 months of storage. After that, each deposit costs $95 a year to store. Yikes. She said that they’d really work with us financially because JJ is on a stringent schedule and can’t wait until we have enough money in hand, and they don’t want to prevent him from having future children because of finances. So I made an appointment for Tuesday morning.
The Sperm Bank is about 1 1/2 hours away and we have to go there five times. This in addition to the PFT test, lab tests, surgeon consultation, port surgery, and who knows what else, all needing to be done before Chemo starts on December 9th. This is a grueling schedule, especially for an introvert who needs quiet to regain energy. We also have to fill out paperwork in preparation for the consultation with the surgeon on Monday. Serious decisions have to be made quickly and there’s not a lot of time to think. In addition, I have to read the info about Chemo and get in my mind what JJ can eat/not eat, and do/not do. I will need to shop for food and other items he will need before we get busy with Chemo. In addition there are all the routine tasks like cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Plus the firewood guy delivered firewood today. Poor Eric has to drive us here and there and still work his normal shift–and often overtime.
All this is why we often feel overloaded with new information and overwhelmed by exhaustion. When a family gets overloaded and overwhelmed, they can get physically stressed. Physical stress can cause emotional stress. I am trying to remind myself that it’s not a lack of faith or hope that causes us to feel as we do. With everything that’s happening, I think we are normal. Well, as normal as we can be.
The woman from the Sperm Bank was awesome. She was extremely compassionate. In addition to answering all my questions, she told me that she knows that when a Mom hears that her child has the dreadful “C word,” there is a surge of anguish. “You’d take your child’s cancer in a heartbeat if you could,” she said. “There is the utter exhaustion from all the appointments and decisions and the stress it causes.” I felt like sobbing because she described it all so accurately. She continued, “But I want to reassure you that of all the types of cancer a person can get, testicular cancer is the one to have because it is very treatable.” She said that Lance Armstrong is sort of their “poster boy” because he had had testicular cancer and it had spread to his brain and lungs. But he beat it. Also, he went on to have four children from sperm that he had banked. She said she had worked at the Sperm Bank for 25 years and she has witnessed many men going on to have children and live full lives. “Your son will beat this cancer and have a very good life,” she encouraged. She also said that she, herself, had battled cancer. She had had both Chemo and Radiation, and she didn’t even vomit. “The drugs they have now to prevent vomiting are awesome,” she said. She said she also had a port put in. She explained a little–but not too much–about the procedure and said she had to have the port in for 18 months but was hardly aware it was there. “There’s no discomfort,” she said. That was a comfort to me because the thought of my son having a port in him horrifies me and makes me feel like vomiting whenever I think of it. At the end of our conversation, I told her that she had greatly encouragement me. “It was such a pleasure to talk to you,” I said.
The people we meet, here and there, who deeply understand what it’s like are a life-line. It reminds me of the time, years ago, after I went through the same sort of difficulties that a friend had suffered. “I always knew you cared,” she said, “but now I know you understand.”
However, I think that the love and compassion of EVERYONE in this journey with us is awesome beyond description. The people who haven’t been through the battles might not “deeply understand,” but I really, honestly, don’t think their love is less. Only the understanding is less. Having “less understanding” isn’t wrong. Sometimes I look back in the past and I’m appalled by my absolute ignorance of what others have had to suffer, and I know there will always be sufferings that I am absolutely ignorant of. But then I remind myself that, really, as far as I know, none of us can truly understand what we haven’t experienced. How can we?
I know lots of people who have had cancer, and I always so very much care, but I had no idea what it’s like to face it, or to be a caregiver, until now. There’s absolutely no way, that I know of, to understand until I suffered it. Even then, I think each cancer journey is different–the treatment, the emotions, the coping skills are all different even when the journey seems similar. I don’t know what it’s like to have a spouse or parent battle cancer. I suspect it might feel different than having a child battle cancer. And I don’t really know what it’s like for another family whose child is battling cancer, only what it’s like for us. I have a friend who is now in her own cancer journey. She is choosing to fight it with natural methods. I have no idea what it’s like to fight it that way. I think it’s expensive and very labor intensive. I don’t really know how to encourage this friend in her battle. I don’t know what she finds encouraging, only what we find encouraging. I do not have the resources, time, or energy, to be there for her as much as I wish right now, but I do my best to let her know that I care and to pray for her. I think “our best” is the best that any of us can do, and “our best” is an awesome gift even though it may not feel as if it’s enough.
I am so thankful for everyone that God is using in our lives right now. You are all AWESOME.
The tablet my friends bought JJ arrived yesterday, and JJ is absolutely astounded by it, and overwhelmed by the love and generosity of the gift. He video-chatted with the friend who orchestrated the gift to thank her. Then she asked if he had headphones for it. No? “Then find headphones on Amazon and send me the link and I will buy them for you so you can listen to your tablet during Chemo and not disturb any others who might be in the same room.” JJ struggled with accepting more because she has already given so much and he didn’t want to feel as if he was taking advantage of her. I told my friend this, and she explained that she feels deeply for hurting friends, and feels helpless to help them, so giving them gifts makes her feel like she’s doing something. Giving to others blesses her. “Ok,” I told JJ. “Do you understand the concept of ‘Paying Forward’?” He said yes. “So someday in the future this dear friend might need your help, or there might be others who need your help. When they do, think of the love and generosity being shown to you now, and pour out love and generosity onto them. Ok?”
Although this journey is difficult, God’s love is everywhere through every person. He is showing us through each of you how much He loves us and is present with us.
A Question of Faith
From a young age, I’ve asked God to please teach me His truth and His ways. I also asked Him to make me Real. For years my family has prayed together that God would “teach us His truth and help us follow Him no matter where He leads us or what it costs us.” Such prayers are what I call “dangerous prayers” because they result in being led out of our safe Hobbit Hole in the Shire and into all sorts of Adventures that change us forever. It’s hard to explain, but the Adventure can be terrifying, and yet also good. Sort of like an Adventure with Doctor Who, which is life-threatening and very scary, but when he invites us for another Adventure we leap at the chance to be with him. We learn that we travel with a Lion who is very good, but not tame. Ok, I am mixing stories, but they all fit.
These days it seems that if a person disagrees with someone’s beliefs, that person is called nasty names like “intolerant” or “hater” but I think that’s totally illogical. Not every belief is true, and there ought to be room for disagreement, dialogue and debate about ideas while also respecting and caring about people. (There is a thought-provoking article about this called When Tolerance is Intolerant.)
I’ve always asked questions, but the trickle of questions have become a flood over the years. I don’t think any of us correctly understands everything, and so I try to honestly ask myself if a belief is true or not, rather than if it lines up to what I already have been taught or believe. It’s challenging to ask and explore questions, twisting a belief this way and that, like a Rubic’s Cube, holding to what I have found is true, letting go of what I have found is not true, seeing that I have more questions than answers, but also accepting that I might never find the answers to many questions. Being willing to ask questions is sort of like letting go of a safe shore where I know everything, and launching out into the vast unknown ocean.
I think there can be a temptation, as a person asks questions and uncovers awesome treasures that he wouldn’t have found if he had not asked, to become frustrated and arrogant about “those ignorant people” who do not seek or find. I remember several years ago, I learned something life-changing, and I was getting frustrated because those around me didn’t live it. A friend said to me, “Tell me: How many years did it take you to learn this truth?” I sort of said, “Mumble, mumble years.” “It took you that many years to learn this,” my friend said, “and yet now that you know it, you expect others to learn it overnight????” I felt brought down a few notches, and rightly so. I now try to keep in mind that we are all different, and we are all in different places, and God deals with us differently, so who am I to say “You should be in the same place as I am at this time?” I believe I am not wise enough to know what God is doing in others’ lives or how they ought to be. I might be further along than some people, but there are thousands and thousands ahead of me, being patient with my ignorance.
I love when Jesus (Yeshua) was telling Peter in John 21 what would happen to him in the future, and Peter pointed to another disciple and asked, “Lord, what about him?” Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.” In other words, stop looking at others and focus on following Yeshua yourself. Aslan in the Chronicles of Narnia often said it this way: That’s his story, not yours.
I wrote all this because I want to share some thoughts and I want you to know that my questions are things that I began to ponder a long time ago, and which I continue to ponder. My questions reflect where I am at, not where anyone else is. If you can learn from them, fine. If they stir up questions in you, maybe you can start exploring them yourself. If not, I’m fine with that too.
So here goes:
Some things I have been taught and believed all my life no longer make sense to me. I think often people–me included–say we believe something, but it seems to me that we live the opposite.
Some of those beliefs are things like: “Waiting for God.” There have been times when I felt most definitely that I should “wait on God,” as in “not move forward until God tells me to.” But I’ve often heard “How can God direct you if you are not moving? We need to put feet on our prayers.” Is this true? When did waiting mean moving? When my son was very young and he ran ahead of me as we walked down the sidewalk, I often shouted, “Wait for me at the corner.” I didn’t mean keep going. I meant stop. Could it be that waiting means waiting to God too? I love Numbers 9:16-23 which describes how God led His people with a pillar of cloud and fire:
That is how it continued to be; the cloud covered it, and at night it looked like fire. Whenever the cloud lifted from above the tent, the Israelites set out; wherever the cloud settled, the Israelites encamped. At the Lord’s command the Israelites set out, and at his command they encamped. As long as the cloud stayed over the tabernacle, they remained in camp.When the cloud remained over the tabernacle a long time, the Israelites obeyed the Lord’s order and did not set out. Sometimes the cloud was over the tabernacle only a few days; at the Lord’s command they would encamp, and then at his command they would set out. Sometimes the cloud stayed only from evening till morning, and when it lifted in the morning, they set out. Whether by day or by night, whenever the cloud lifted, they set out. Whether the cloud stayed over the tabernacle for two days or a month or a year, the Israelites would remain in camp and not set out; but when it lifted, they would set out. At the Lord’s command they encamped, and at the Lord’s command they set out. They obeyed the Lord’s order, in accordance with his command through Moses.
In other words, the Israelites didn’t keep moving if God didn’t move. They kept still. So I think that to God waiting means waiting. Not move. Not go run ahead. Wait. Period.
These are the types of questions I ask myself all the time. Are the things I believe really, really true? Do I live what I say I believe?
Other questions I have relate more closely to suffering.
I Corinthians 1 says: “God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.” Paul said in 2 Corinthians 12:10 that “when I am weak I am strong.” However, when a person actually reveals weakness, people tell him that he must be strong, so it seems to me that we really don’t believe that when we are weak we are strong, but that when we are weak we are weak and when we are strong we are strong. Myself included.
Many times I have heard people describe how we need to live in brokenness. Do we ever stop to ponder what this means or looks like? Would we appreciate it if we saw it in a person?
I sort of think brokenness might look like being real, as the Skin Horse described it to the Velveteen Rabbit:
“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
But, honestly, I think that when we see people whose hair has been loved off, and eyes dropped out, who are loose in the joints and very shabby, we think they are ugly and weak in faith, not beautifully real. So I agree with Larry Crabb, who wrote:
“We often hear that brokenness is the pathway to a deeper relationship with God, but we rarely see it modeled. I sometimes think we want others to believe we know God by demonstrating how unbroken we are.”
Brokenness is the realization that life is too much for us, not just because there is too much pain but also because we’re too selfish. Brokenness is realizing He is all we have…
I often ponder if Real Faith doesn’t look at all like what we expect. For example, I heard all my life about the patience and faith of Job. But have you ever really looked at what he said? He said things like this:
“My sighing serves in place of my food, and my groans pour out in a torrent; for the thing I feared has overwhelmed me, what I dreaded has happened to me. I have no peace, no quiet, no rest; and anguish keeps coming.” Job 3:23-25
“Therefore I will not restrain my mouth but will speak in my anguish of spirit and complain in my bitterness of soul. Am I the sea, or some sea monster, that you put a guard over me? When I think that my bed will comfort me, that my couch will relieve my complaint, then you terrify me with dreams and frighten me with visions. I would rather be strangled; death would be better than these bones of mine. I hate it! I won’t live forever, so leave me alone, for my life means nothing. Job 7:11-16
Even today my complaint is bitter; his hand is heavy in spite of my groaning. If only I knew where to find him; if only I could go to his dwelling! I would state my case before him and fill my mouth with arguments. I would find out what he would answer me, and consider what he would say to me. Job 23:2-5
If I said that to you, would you think I had faith? If you said it, would I believe you had faith? Probably not. Yet, at the end of the book, God said to Job’s friend, “My anger is blazing against you and your two friends, because, unlike my servant Job, you have not spoken rightly about me…My servant Job will pray for you — because him I will accept — so that I won’t punish you as your boorishness deserves; because you have not spoken rightly about me, as my servant Job has.”
Job was real with God. He accused Him, questioned Him, and challenged Him. Yet, God said he spoke rightly about Him while He was angry with his friends who said the religious stuff. Hmmm. It’s something I have pondered.
Several years ago, EJ told me that the best way to lose weight is to start weight-lifting. He said he would teach me. So one day we all went down to the basement where EJ’s weight-lifting equipment is. EJ told me that he’d start me with 10 pounds of weight, and when I could lift 10 pounds easily, he’d put on another 10 pounds, and when I could lift that easily, he would add another 10 pounds, constantly increasing the weight. I pondered then that every time more weight is added, a person will begin to struggle all over again to lift it. It would almost seem as if he has accomplished nothing. Yet, the struggle is over greater and greater weights and the person, despite the struggling at each new step, is actually getting stronger and stronger. I thought that if I went into a gym and saw two people lifting weights, one lifting the weights easily while the other groaned and strained, I might think that the first was stronger than the second. In reality, however, the first person might only be lifting lighter weights that he could easily handle, while the second was straining to lift heavier weights that pushed him beyond his capability so that he could gain greater strength. So who is the stronger?
That helped me understand faith better. Appearances can often be deceiving. Anyone can have strong faith while staying safe in a Hobbit Hole. It takes great faith to run off on an Adventure to fight trolls, dragons, and orcs. Who is braver? The person in the Hobbit Hole or the one fighting dragons? Yes, the person on the Adventure might feel more fear, but he’s also overcoming more fear.
I’m not saying that a person who appears strong is always weaker. Sometimes a person who appears strong IS strong because God has given him strength. However, not everyone who appears strong is strong, and not everyone who appears weak is weak. As I said, appearances can be deceiving.
I don’t know how anyone else’s faith journeys ought to be like, but I know that I have often been pushed beyond my ability to cope. If I remain “strong” during suffering and able to handle it then the problems keep coming and coming and coming until my strength is totally used up and I am crushed. But I have found that when I am pressed beyond my strength into weakness, amazing things happen. I relate so deeply to the following poem because I have found it to be very true in my life:
Pressed beyond measure and pressed to all length;
Pressed so intensely, it seems beyond strength;
Pressed in the body, and pressed in the soul;
Pressed in the mind, till the dark surges roll.
Pressure by foes, and pressure by friends –
Pressure on pressure, till life nearly ends.Pressed into knowing no helper but God;
Pressed into loving the staff and the rod.
Pressed into liberty where nothing clings;
Pressed into faith for impossible things.
Pressed into living a life in the Lord;
Pressed into living a Christlife outpoured.
I don’t mind very much being pressured into weakness because when I am utterly weak, God takes over. Even so, the falling into weakness can be a frightening, messy, ugly thing. It can look so abhorrent to ourselves and others so that we try anything to prevent the fall. But is that what should happen? Maybe weakness is where we should be! When we fall into weakness maybe we fall into strength.
I also find that during suffering, many things rise to the top: a variety of fears, anger, dysfunctions, attitudes, and weaknesses that were hidden from view before. I don’t think this is necessarily bad. Long ago I read Psalms 66:10 which says “For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver” and it occurred to me that during the refinement process, silver is heated until the impurities float to the top where they are then skimmed off. The impurities might make the silver look awful, but the truth is that they were always there, hidden, and the refinement process merely exposed them so they could be taken away. I think the same sort of thing can happen in suffering. Because impurities rise to the top, it might look as if a person is worse when actually he is being refined. A person can’t deal with things he doesn’t know is there.
I supposed in many ways the refinement process can be like cancer treatment. Ignoring that there is something wrong doesn’t make the bad go away, it just allows it to grow and eventually kill you. But honestly facing that you have cancer means that you face the horror and you pursue healing. The process of healing can be scary, humiliating, painful, and tiring, but a person goes through treatment anyway because he hopes that in the end he will be healed and find life. So at the same time a person hates it all and yet pursues it because of the end result.
So I don’t really fear the process of refinement even though it’s difficult and unpleasant. I’m not going to pretend that it’s not sometimes scary or painful. It is. But even if (or maybe because) I struggle at times, I absolutely trust that God will work all things for my good.
Larry Crabb wrote, “We’re all struggling. Beneath the surface of every personality–even the one that seems most ‘together’–a spiritual battle is raging that will only be won with the help of community….” I have always believed that God wants me to be honest, even if it looks as messy and ugly. In my blog posts, I am merely letting you see the deep struggles and wrestlings of faith. I want to reassure my dear friends that despite what it looks like, I am not falling from God, I am falling towards Him. Into His arms. He and I have a relationship of realness with each other. I tell Him what I think and feel, even the nasty stuff. But I honestly believe that God is absolutely loving and that He is taking me on another wondrously scary Adventure. We’ve got each other’s hearts.
So don’t worry if things look messy with me. I’m where God has me.
He knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold. Job 23:10
No Rest for the Weary
Poor EJ has been working overtime lately, which is very helpful financially, but difficult on him physically. He is incredibly exhausted and his back is threatening to go out because he doesn’t have time to rest it. I was hoping we could stay home today so he could sleep in, but our primary doctor’s called yesterday to remind us that EJ has a checkup on Friday. He needs to have blood work before he goes but–oops–we completely forgot. So this morning it is off to the lab, and the tomorrow he goes to the doctor. I plan to go with him.
Yesterday afternoon the surgeon’s office called to set up an appointment. JJ now has a consultation appointment with the surgeon on Monday. I’m sure the surgeon will go over what to expect from the surgery and also schedule the surgery to put the port in. (Ugh, those detailed descriptions of what’s going to happen are my downfall. I’m praying that I don’t get sick.) The office emailed me forms that JJ needs to fill out before the appointment. There are pages and pages and pages. He is certainly getting experience filling out medical forms. I sometimes wonder why various offices can’t just share the info?
There is some risk that the chemotherapy could cause JJ to be sterile, so before December 9th he will need to deposit some sperm at the sperm bank as a precaution. That is not yet scheduled.
At the Chemo class, we were given information about what foods JJ can and cannot eat. I will need to look at the information packet closely and then make a grocery list to get in supplies before the Chemo starts.
JJ is probably the least tired from all this. We are handling as many things as we can for him, so he can rest and not have worries. While EJ works overtime, I try to handle as many things at home as I can. EJ chauffeurs us from appointment to appointment, I do the scheduling and take care of various other things, such as work with the college JJ was attending. With all that is happening, and all the appointments and procedures he is undergoing, he just doesn’t have the focus to do school work. Therefore, we are withdrawing him from college. He won’t be able to get reimbursed, but that’s a minor concern right now.
Yesterday I decided to make JJ an easy-to-make supper that he enjoys: Hebrew National All-Beef Hotdogs wrapped in homemade biscuit dough and baked. I also made tater tots–another favorite. I was so very tired and had an awful headache. I accidentally put much too much baking powder in the biscuit dough. Poor JJ, when I served it, he took a bite and said, “This doesn’t taste right.” He bravely said he’d eat it even thought I told him he didn’t have too. He took another bite and said, “Sorry, I just can’t eat this.” He ate the tater tots and some cereal instead. I tore the biscuits off the hotdogs and told him I could make a new batch tomorrow. I said, “Trust me, you really don’t want me trying to make a new batch tonight.”
Ugh, I felt like such a failure as a Mom. I thought that if I’m so tired and making mistakes now, what is it going to be like during the weeks of Chemo when he is really sick and needs me? If the cancer doesn’t kill him, my cooking might.
I would like to take the opportunity now to tell you that years ago I considered working as a hospice volunteering. Although life took me in a different direction, I did attend the initial Hospice training session. The teacher of that session said that we must keep in mind that there is a difference between honesty and the truth. A patient may be honest about how he feels or thinks, but that might not really be the truth. For example, on a bad day a patient might say he wishes to die or that he hates the volunteer and wants her to never return. But that’s only what he feels that day. It’s not want he really wants.
I would like you to keep this in mind as you read this blog. I am trying to write as honestly as I can about the challenges and struggles, the ups and downs, the hopes and fears, the laughter and tears of battling our son’s cancer. Although I am trying to be honest, I know that what I write and feel and think during this time may not always be true. I am aware that one day I might feel one way, the next day I might feel another way. One moment I think one thing, and the next moment another. It is my hope if in my weariness I inadvertently say something that sounds awful, you can be patient with me. I’m not deliberately trying to be a jerk or anything.
I want you to know that I am so thankful for all of you who choose to take this journey with us. Your encouraging and supportive comments are such a gift! Each one of you is so very, very special to us!
Ok, now time to wake up EJ and get started on the day.
Chemo Class
This morning we attended Chemo Class at the Cancer Center.
I woke a little after 7 a.m. I planned to wake my guys up at 8 a.m. so we could leave at 9 a.m. to attend the 10 a.m. class that would teach us what to expect from Chemo. Before I got out of bed, I prayed, “Dear Father, please, please, please don’t let me be sick or to faint during the class!”
I came downstairs, put Danny out in our fenced yard so he could “do his business,” went inside to make coffee, and washed my hair and got dressed. Then I went to bring Danny back inside. I couldn’t find him anywhere in the yard. OH, NO! He had found the section of the wooden fence that had been crunched when the rotten tree fell on it. I envisioned an hour spent hunting frantically through the town for Danny.
It was almost 8 a.m., so I woke JJ, and told him that he needed to get ready while I hunted for the dog. I got the leash and the car keys. I thought I’d drive around and if I spotted him, I could put the leash on him if he didn’t immediately jump into the car. But the car had heavy frost on the windows, so I decided to just walk. It’s not like I live in a huge city or anything. As I walked, I texted my friend that Danny had escaped and to pray that I’d find him. Then I listened for the sound of dogs barking. Dogs usually bark if a strange dog invades their territory. I heard a dog frantically barking and headed in that direction. Yup. The dog was barking at Danny. I whistled and called for my wayward dog. When he saw me, and starting running toward me, his whole being a picture of great joy. Silly Danny.
As I walked my dog home, I called my friend to tell her not to worry, I had found Danny. She was so relieved. She said that when she got my text, she felt what more can go wrong? I mean, we didn’t really need this stress on the morning we were going to Chemo Class. It would have been awful if I hadn’t been able to find Danny but it was actually the perfect thing to happen because I found Danny quickly and then I talked and laughed with my friend. I felt my stress diminish. I said, “Thank you, Father, for the stress reducing gift.” But I did sort of block the hole in the fence so hopefully Danny won’t be able to escape again.
I just love my friend who is walking alongside us through this cancer journey. I love that she weeps with me, she laughs with me, and she gets stressed with me. It is so comforting to have a friend who is touched by what touches us. Everyone should have such a friend.
I told my friend that problems never seem to stop at the point at which I can handle them. I always get one problem after another, problems piled onto problems, until I cannot handle any more. I’m been learning over the last few years that I really can’t handle much of anything. I desperately need God. My friend and I agreed that faith is sometimes messy and desperate and we are reduced to weakness, but that is good. When we are weak, we are strong.
I told my friend that I was really praying that I wouldn’t get sick or faint at the Chemo class. She said that she was actually praying that I would faint if someone needed “comic relief.” JJ is still laughing over my near-faint last Friday and maybe others needed to laugh about it too. Everyone should have such a friend who cares so much about people that she prays I will faint to make them laugh.
On the way to the Cancer Center, I felt nauseous and shaky and I thought, “I am so definitely going to faint.” EJ didn’t aggravate the Unseen Guy operating the gate to the Cancer Center this time by pressing the speaker button too many times. We are gaining experience.
While we waited in the waiting room, JJ whispered, “If you faint today, you have to give me $20.” He and I made a bargain: If I fainted, I’d get him a desktop computer. If I didn’t faint, I’d get to buy him a dorky hat to wear to Chemo. We shook on it.
A small group of us were led through the labyrinth of corridors to a small conference room. A table filled most of the room, but there was a cushioned bench along one wall. EJ and JJ sat at the table, but I sat on the bench behind them. I thought it would be easier if I could distance myself a little bit from the information. Also, I could more easily change my position to keep myself from fainting. I had learned that part of dealing with fainting is to distract myself so I took notes and doodled in a pad of paper while I listened. We were told what the likely affects of chemo would be, what to watch for, when to contact the Center, and how symptoms and side effects would be handled. We were also told what foods JJ could have or not have.
Apparently no one needed comic relief. I did not faint. This means JJ has to wear a dorky hat. I wouldn’t have insisted he wear one if he didn’t really want to, but he said, “No, you won the bet. I have to wear the hat.”
As everyone was leaving the room, the woman on the other side of the table said that she had been an oncology nurse so she’d not used to being on THIS end of things. I said, “So does it seem easier or harder to know exactly what is happening through all this? We know absolutely nothing.” She said that it doesn’t matter, it still is really awful. She asked if JJ was our son and if I minded her asking what type of cancer he had. When I told her, she teared up. She said that when she saw him sitting there, so young, her heart just broke. We gave each other hugs. We chatted a bit–suddenly good friends. EJ asked later, “So what is her name?” I said, “Oh, we never gave each other our names. We forgot.” Maybe we will see each other at Chemo. I suspect friendships are made there, similar to soldiers in a foxhole.
Yesterday, my friend asked me if JJ’s laptop was getting repaired. I told her that our friend was going to work on it because the computer will be absolutely vital for JJ during this. The last time we went to the store, I looked at IPad’s because I thought that would be a perfect thing for JJ to take with him to Chemo because they are lightweight and not bulky. I had no idea how much they cost, but I discovered that they were a bit too expensive. So my friend discussed tablets with a friend who works with computers and he recommended a Nexus 7 Android 16GB. Then she, and he, and a few others contributed to buying JJ one. We are overcome with the absolute awesomeness of friends.
A Special Kind of Hell
We haven’t slept well since we heard on Friday that the cancer has spread into JJ’s back. The doctor explained that the cancer is in lymph nodes near his lungs and too close to his spine to remove until after the chemo shrinks it. It’s too risky to take out now because they don’t want to risk cutting any nerve. That scares me.
We have been through some very difficult things in our lives, things that caused us pain, anguish, sorrow, heartbreak, turmoil. But never, never have I felt such pain as I am feeling as we enter JJ’s battle with cancer. Sometimes I feel as if my heart is ripping, ripping in two and as if the merest tap will shatter me. I feel shakey inside and nauseous at the horror of it all. I think it’s because it’s happening to our child. Our children–no matter how old they are–should not have to suffer like this. Having our son be seriously ill feels like we have entered a special kind of hell. And we really haven’t even begun the hard parts yet. I don’t know how we will survive when JJ starts feeling the effects of chemo.
I feel pushed to the limits of exhaustion. Not only is there the BIG SCARY CANCER to deal with, but even the routine tasks seem hard, and extra little problems build up into impossible burdens. Like having a rotten tree fall over into our neighbor’s yard, crushing our fence and their lattice trellis. Our neighbor nicely cut up the tree and gave us the wood, but we need to take down the rest of the tree. We don’t have the energy for routine tasks, how will we cut down the tree? Then on Sunday afternoon, a big storm hit with very, very high winds. Big tree limbs feel into the street, one huge limb falling on our neighbor’s car and crushing it. Our power went out. We heard that we wouldn’t get it back until Saturday–six days away–but fortunately power was restored on Monday afternoon. Our wood stove kept us warm and fed, but even so things are harder without power. I was drying clothes when the power went out, and I didn’t want them to mildew so I spent all Monday putting the wet laundry on chairs to dry next to the wood stove. JJ’s computer died on Sunday so we are down to all three of us sharing EJ’s computer. JJ is worried about not having a computer, but I told him that we know how essential it is for him during this time, so one way or another he will have a computer–whether we can get it fixed or have to buy him a new one.
We laugh when we can but there are some days when we can’t even smile. Today I felt like crying so I called my friend this morning. She is such a gift from God. I do not know how I would get through this without her laughing with me and crying with me and helping me think things through. Today, she helped life become manageable again for me.
One important thing I am learning is that I have to set strong boundaries to protect our son’s health. We have to put JJ first above everything and everyone because we are fighting for his life. We have to protect JJ from germs and anything that would tax his strength. We have to accept the reality of what we can do and what we can’t do. We have to tell people what we need and don’t need. I am glad my friend reminds me of these things and tells me I am not being selfish for turning down invitations or not engaging in some forms of ministry. Right now, we have to focus all our energy on JJ.
Real and Imaginary
Last night when EJ came home from work, he asked if I knew where the binoculars were because Jupiter was very bright in the sky. We’ve always enjoyed looking at the stars, and EJ had permanent orders to wake us up if he notices anything celestial happening on his way home from work –like the Northern Lights, meteorite showers, or bright planets. But I was so very deep down tired last night, that I said that I didn’t have any idea where the binoculars were, and I kind of didn’t care, I was too tired to look. We had taken them out of the RV before we sold it, but they could be anywhere. EJ search for a bit–and he also asked if I knew where his hunting bag was. I repeated, “I need to sleep. Tonight I don’t care about stars in the sky or hunting bags. I’m going to bed.” But as I soon as I lay down in bed, without trying to think of where the items could be. I suddenly knew where they were. With a sigh, I got up and went downstairs. EJ and JJ had gone out to look at Jupiter. They came inside as I opened the coat closet, pulled EJ’s hunting bag off one hook and the binoculars off another hook and handed them to him. “How do you DO that?” EJ asked in amazement. “Finding lost things is my superpower,” I reminded him. “It’s amazing,” he said. It IS an amazing superpower. However, I cannot find myself. I get lost super easily. EJ suggested that all my “finding” power is focused on finding lost items so there’s not enough left to find myself.
We took the binoculars and all went outside to look at bright Jupiter. Without the binoculars Jupiter was a very bright light in the sky. With the binoculars it was an even bigger light in the sky. I do not really understand how astronomers can figure out what a far away planet looks like or is made of. Planets and stars all look like beautiful lights.
Throughout the evening, before EJ got home from work, JJ was on his computer telling his Imaginary Friends the latest updates of his cancer.
I sometimes jokingly call Internet friends “Imaginary Friends” because there are people who think that friends you meet through the Internet aren’t “real.” I think these people are those who prefer to interact with people face-to-face and/or who don’t like technology. I think everyone is different and interacts differently. I have come to appreciate (mostly) people’s differences. It’s what makes them unique and interesting. However, I believe it doesn’t matter where you meet a friend, a friend is a friend. Both “real life” friends and Imaginary Friends that I have met on the Internet are awesome.
Anyway, JJ told his Imaginary Friends about the port that will be put in his body. One of them asked if a port was like the Ark Reactor that Tony Stark wears on his chest. When I heard this, I exclaimed “That’s it!” I have been wanting to buy JJ a superhero mask to wear when he goes for chemo because everyone knows that many superheroes gain their powers when they encounter toxic substances. Iron Man with the Ark Reactor thing is the perfect superhero for JJ to become. The doctors are not installing a port in his chest, they are installing an Ark Reactor.
I quickly searched Amazon.com. Then I turned the computer towards JJ. “Look, JJ! I am going to buy this Iron Man mask for you to wear when you have Chemo!”
“No.” He said. “I’m not six years old. I’m not going to wear a superhero mask. Nope.”
“Awww, bummer.” I’m not six years old either, but I would so wear this mask if I was having Chemo. Superheroes are so awesome. Well, some people have trouble accepting their new identities when they first become superheroes. JJ is probably no different. But in my opinion, he’s Iron Man.
It is likely the Chemo will make JJ bald. On the way home from the Cancer Center, I told JJ, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to shave my head. Because I’m not going to do it. Nope.” I have enough trouble with the image in the mirror without looking at a bald Me. I think some people feel comforted by such noble sacrifices, but I don’t think the gesture would mean much to JJ. Besides, I think it would be more comforting to have a Mom look normal than to have her (Me) looking like a bald alien. “If it will make you feel better,” I said to JJ, “I’m willing to sacrificially buy some fake fur and glue it to your head.” For some reason, JJ doesn’t always appreciate my noble offers.
Sigh. I suppose it’s no use suggesting he let me buy him an animal hat like these:
Each night we have all been taking Melatonin to help us sleep at night. Melatonin is a supplement, not a drug, and doesn’t cause the “hang over” or addictions that sleeping pills do. A friend warned me that it could cause nightmares. However, we think getting a good night’s sleep is worth a few nightmares. We all need sleep if we are to keep our strength and energy up. JJ has mentioned only one bad-ish dream, and EJ says he’s actually having vivid GOOD dreams. Usually he isn’t aware of having dreams. I’ve been having sort of scary dreams, but not super scary. I just think of them as exciting, suspenseful movies.
Besides, the real nightmares aren’t occurring at night while I dream. The real nightmares begin when I first wake up and realize that JJ’s cancer isn’t a dream that will fade away in the morning light.
I fight fierce battles in the morning as I wake up. “JJ’s cancer is not a dream. It’s a real nightmare. It’s happening. How can I endure this? What if it gets worse? How can I bear the hours of Chemo and the vomiting afterwards and his losing his hair? I’m not prepared for this. My heart is breaking. And what if he doesn’t make it? God, that’s a horror I will not be able to endure. Wait, God is here. He will help us through. Breathe. Breathe.”
Even if I pass through death-dark ravines,
I will fear no disaster; for you are with me;
your rod and staff reassure me. (Ps. 23:4, Complete Jewish Bible)
Besides first thing in the morning, I think the hardest times are the days after bad news. Leading up to a medical appointment or procedure, the stress builds and builds. Then there’s the day of the appointment or procedure. We get through it, do what we have to do, face what we have to face. We are protected by numbness. The next day, some of the numbness wears off, the adrenaline surge dissipates, and I feel incredibly weak. The day after is when I am most tired and struggle with tears. Breathe, breathe.
The Cancer Center
This morning JJ had his first appointment at the Cancer Center.
JJ was given pages and pages of forms to fill out. While he was busy writing, I observed the people in the waiting room. I pondered that every person there was fighting the battle of his or her life–or was with a loved one who was fighting. It was rather sobering. I prayed for everyone there.
I’m learning that cancer is a difficult battle. Fear walks beside every hope. There’s always fear that it could be the worst even while we hope at every step:
First: “It’s probably just an infection.”
Next: “The mass is probably benign.”
Then: “The cancer was contained in the mass. It hasn’t spread.”
Today we learned that JJ’s cancer has spread to some lymph nodes in his back. He officially has Stage 2a cancer. This is not news we wanted. We are no longer temporary visitors to cancer, moving quickly through it. We are here for the long-term. We are entering a whole new world and learning a new vocabulary.
I know everyone has different beliefs of how a person ought to fight cancer. Many people swear that their own method is the best and only way. We have been advised to fight with chemo, to fight with holistic methods, to eat certain seaweed, to use certain supplements…or not, or to travel to Mexico for methods not approved in the USA. Which is the best method? I don’t know, but I would offer the following thoughts to those who accompany a loved through cancer. I started this list a few weeks ago and am adding to it as I go along because I think it’s not easy to know how to be supportive to people who are suffering with serious illness. I think it’s helpful to have tips and reminders. I especially want to take note of this for myself for the future when I encounter people who are suffering.
- Each person and family fights cancer differently. Let them fight their battle in their own way. Remember it’s not your battle, it’s theirs. Be supportive no matter what.
- I am not sure that there is a right or wrong way to fight cancer.
- I think that God is not limited. He can heal using any method of treatment, including making mud out of spit and dirt and putting it on a blind person’s eyes. We can’t always know why God moves one person to fight one way and another person to fight another. Who knows? Maybe He wants His children in various places to pray for those who are going through the same treatments.
- I think it’s important to limit the amount of advice unless it is asked for. Your advice might be excellent but it can also be overwhelming. We can ask if we need advice or we can do our own research. What we most need are friends who will be there with us. It’s amazing how comforting it is to have a friend cry with us, freak out with us, and laugh with us. That’s more beneficial than all the advice in the world.
- It’s impossible to not ever give advice. I mean, we all do it. How can we not? However, if you give advice, give it and then back off. Your advice might be awesome, and we might use it, but we have a lot of stuff going on in our lives: tons of new information, medical tests, doctor visits, caring for our loved one. Don’t get upset if we don’t acknowledge your advice or use it. We are very busy now and not every bit of advice works for everyone.
- I talked to a friend the other day who said one thing she hated when her former husband was dying of cancer was strangers coming up to hug her. Me? I love hugs. This made me think that people find different things comforting and helpful. I think the best thing to do would be to ask them what they want or need.
- Please, please, do not tell scary stories about how a loved one might never get better if they don’t use your preferred treatment. I think that two of the most important things a cancer patient needs are a positive attitude and faith. Scary stories increases our fear and weakens our hope. We have enough fear and stress to deal with without adding more.
- It’s not easy to know what to do or say. So if aren’t perfect in giving comfort, that’s ok. We love you and forgive you for being human. We’d rather have you reach out than not.
JJ is choosing to fight his battle with Chemotherapy. He will have four cycles of chemo. Each cycle will involve chemo every day for a week, and then three weeks off, and then back to a week of chemo. Each week he will have to have blood tests to make sure his body is doing ok. At the end of his chemo, the doctors will test to see if the cancer is gone. If not, he will probably have surgery to remove the lymph nodes. If the cancer is still not gone, he will have more chemo.
The weeks ahead are going to be busy. Next week we attend a cancer class to learn about chemo–what to expect from it and how to care for JJ as he goes through it. At some point he will have a port put in. There’s also other tests and procedures he needs before he begins chemo.
Despite the seriousness of the day, we had a few funny incidents that made us laugh. We laugh whenever we can.
There was a gate at the entrance to the Cancer Center Parking lot with a speaker. Apparently people are supposed to push a button on the speaker, tell an Unseen Guy they are there for an appointment, and then the Unseen Guy releases the gate. This is stupid to me. Why the gate? To keep out bad people? A bad person is hardly going to say, “I’m a bad person and I’m coming to do bad stuff. Let me in.” Duh. Anyway, EJ pressed the button and nothing happened, so he pressed it again. And again. And then he said, “Hello?” And the Unseen Guy answered. EJ pressed the button again to tell the Unseen Guy that we were there for an appointment. Every time he spoke, EJ pressed the button. That’s how it used to work. But as he was releasing the gate, the Unseen Guy said, “Just for future reference, you don’t need to press the button to talk.” Later, we were talking about this in the exam room, and the doctor laughed that when someone presses the button, the Unseen Guy leans in to talk, and when EJ pressed the button again and again, he was blasting the guy with an alarm. Laugh.
Another funny thing: As I was growing up, if I heard about an injury or ailment, I would feel as if it happened to me, so I would get nauseous or faint. I think I’m too empathetic. Science classes, doctor visits, blood tests, descriptions of accidents, gory or medical movies, and so on were very difficult for me. Sometimes it was even difficult to visit people in the hospital. When I was in my mid-20s, I went to a behavioral psychologist to learn techniques to deal with this. The techniques were helpful, and through the years I have been able to bravely undergo many medical procures without any problem at all.
But today, as the doctor described the port that was going to put in JJ, I began to feel hot, nauseous and light-headed. I alerted my family and the doctor that I was not doing well. The doctor had me put my feet on a chair and EJ got me a wet paper towel for my head. It didn’t help. Apparently my face was very pale. Then the doctor said to JJ, “Get off the exam table and let your Mom lie down,” and he fixed the table so my feet were elevated and my head was down. We laughed. Here was my son, the cancer patient, forced to move out of the way so I could lie down.
With me lying on the table, the doctor continued. He asked if we had seen the CT scan results. “No,” EJ answered. “Would you like to?” the doctor asked. EJ said yes, so the doctor said to him and JJ, “Follow me.” Then he turned to me, “Not you. YOU stay here.” Laugh. By the time they returned, I was doing better.
JJ was delighted by my weakness. “You know that I’m never going to let you live this down, right?”
I replied, “Go ahead and laugh. I’m the comic relief.”
Going on a Bear Hunt
This morning I went shopping for a few groceries. Usually EJ goes with me and it becomes a fun experience instead of a chore, but he and JJ were sleeping so I went alone. I knew that if I didn’t get the groceries today, I would not be able to get them until at least Sunday and I didn’t want to wait that long.
I was in the paper products aisle in the store when I got a call from the urologist’s office. The woman said that they had scheduled an appointment for JJ at the Cancer Center at the hospital tomorrow at 9:30 a.m.. Could we make it? Before I could answer, the connection got wonky and all I could hear was something like “Wh….st…..wr…..yo…” I said, “The reception is bad! I can’t hear you” and then the call was lost. I tried to call back, but there were about 10 different voice mail options and none seemed appropriate. I pressed “0” hoping it would connect me to a receptionist, but got another menu with a million different options. Or maybe it was the same menu. For goodness sakes, there ought to be an option to talk to a REAL PERSON! I was feeling a Mama Bear growl of frustration building up when the doctor’s office called again. First thing I told the woman was that I was in the grocery store and I kept losing connection. She said she understood. She repeated the info and then asked if JJ could make it and I said yes.
We hung up and I suddenly felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me. The Tumor Board, a committee made up of doctors of various specialties who meet periodically to discuss various patients, met yesterday to discuss JJ case. Our next scheduled appointment with the urologist is just before Thanksgiving. The fact that we now suddenly have an appointment at the Cancer Center has thrown me off balance. I do not know if this unexpected appointment is a good thing or a bad thing. Is it normal or abnormal? Is it doctors just getting us started in the process or is there urgency because the news is bad? The uncertainty raised my stress about 5 levels. At this level of stress, a person’s stomach starts eating itself.
I texted my friend while in the dairy department to tell her about the appointment. She called me as I was driving home. She said when she got my text, she also felt the breath knocked out of her. She called her sister who lives in California, waking her up, to ask her to help her calm down so she could talk to me without crying. My friend and I shared our concerns with each other, ranted about our frustrations with doctor offices , and then we laughed. I tell you, the best type of friend is not one who gives you a bunch of advice, but one who is right there freaking out with you.
My friend said, “We just have to believe this is a positive thing.” I said, “What else can we do…other than totally fall apart and collapse?” I mean, we just got to get through this. And that made me think of Going on a Bear Hunt.
There are some children’s stories that I think are very profound and teach deep wisdom. I think of them as sort of parables that very simply describe spiritual truths. The Velveteen Rabbit is one of those stories. It describes what it means to be Real. It is such a deep book that I have it on the bookcase with my Biblical and Hebrew reference books. Another such book is called “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” I do not own this book, but I used to borrow it from the library when JJ was little. I have the important parts memorized.
When I face something very difficult, I often quote the book to myself, although I always change the words to reflect the situation:
We’re going on a bear hunt.
We’re going to catch a big one.
What a beautiful day!
We’re not scared.
Uh oh! An appointment at the Cancer Center!
A unexpected and scary appointment.
We can’t go over it.
We can’t go under it.
Oh, no! We’ve got to go through it…
And then I gather up my faith and my courage and I go forward.
And I try not to forget to breathe.
JJ’s Cat
Yesterday when I got back from the post office, I found a drop of blood that was slightly smaller than a dime on the floor. I thought that probably one of the cats had injured himself, so I began to search for more drops, hoping to find the injured animal. I confess that I imagined myself to be a legendary tracker or a world famous sleuth following a blood trail to the murdered victim. I sort of EEEEKed with surprised when my tracking led me to an actual dead body with the murderer standing over it. Our cat Little Bear was standing over the body of a dead mouse in the kitchen. I deduced that the mouse must have been killed where the blood was pooled and the body carried to the kitchen. I was so proud of my forensic skills. I cleaned up the crime scene by sweeping the mouse into the dustpan and unceremoniously throwing it out into the yard. and then I mopped the blood off the floor.
Our cat, Luke, has some sort of chronic urinary problem so he has to be on special food from the vet, probably for the rest of his life. When he doesn’t have the special food, Luke tends to pee in Danny’s food dish and other containers, which is disgusting and just plain wrong. We are taking special care of Luke because not only is he JJ’s beloved cat, but he is an amazing cat who taught himself to pee in the toilet. The vet, himself, said that Luke must be a genius–because although he’s heard of people training their cats to use a toilet, he has never heard of a cat who taught himself. Luke can also open closed doors. He sometimes stares intently at me, and then I am able to understand what he wants. I think the Force is strong in him.
The special cat food is very expensive so only Luke gets to eat it. Having one cat on a special diet is tricky to accomplish in a home with multiple cats, but we periodically shut Luke into the bathroom so he can eat. After a few minutes, when he’s had time to eat a bit, we let him out and put the food dish back in the cabinet under the sink so the other cats can’t access it. If we aren’t quick enough, Luke opens the door himself and then the other cats rush in and gobble up the expensive special food.
This special treatment seems to be going to Luke’s head. He was always a very loving, cuddly, quiet cat, but now every time I move towards the bathroom, he runs in and wants to be fed. His meows have changed from sweet to imperiously demanding. “Feed me. Feed me NOW!” he practically barks. He is reminding me, more and more, of Simon’s Cat.
His imperious attitude is affecting other areas of his life. Last night I was sitting in the Lazyboy chair with my feet up and the computer in my lap. Luke sat on the coffee table next to me and demanded. “MEOW!” as he stared intently into my eyes. I moved the computer so he could sit on my lap. His Jedi mind-tricks work on me.
Sometimes I say to Luke, “What do you think you are…special or something?”
“Pwrrrrt!” he agrees verbally and telepathically. Absolutely.
I think soon Luke will begin to walk upright and use tools. Then he will seize control of the TV remote.
A friend bought JJ a gift certificate for Chubby’s, his favorite local restaurant–a gift he has been thoroughly enjoying. Yesterday JJ was hungry for Chubby’s food, so we called in an order and then walked the two blocks to pick it up. Deanna, one of the owners of the restaurant, wanted to help JJ so she has put out a donation can to raise money for his medical costs. As she was deducting the cost of the meal from the gift certificate, she pointed out a man at a nearby table. “That man,” she said, “put a large amount of money into the donation can.” (She told us a dollar amount, but JJ and I were so tired that the numbers didn’t register.) She called out to the man, “This is the young man whose medical care you contributed to.” We went over to meet him. He was old and carried oxygen with him. He told us that he had wanted to contribute because he, also, has struggled with cancer several times and he knows how difficult the battle is. We thanked him profusely for his generosity and shook his hand. He was moved to tears. We struggled with tears too. It was one of those special encounters that you sense have great importance, maybe affecting the space/time continuum. The old giving to the young. The one who has suffered giving a gift to the one who is beginning to suffer. A gift given and received.
Last night I couldn’t sleep so I came downstairs to rejoin my family. We had many discussions, including whether or not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles could be more accurately classified as superheroes or crimefighters. JJ thought they were crimefighters because they had no special ability to fly or control weather. I said that Batman has only gadgets, but he is a superhero. JJ argued that Batman is a crimefighter, not a superhero. EJ and I both thought the turtles were superheroes because we think they became human-like after encountering toxic waste, which often causes a person (or turtle) to gain super powers. I also said that all superheroes are actually crimefighters, so there isn’t really a distinction. That settled, we moved into more serious discussions, which I might write about some other day.
EJ fell asleep an hour or so later, but JJ and I still couldn’t sleep so we stayed up through the night. I finally went to bed at 5 a.m. EJ and JJ usually sleep through the mornings, but I always wake up earlier. I was so tired that I fixed a quick lunch, got it warming on the woodstove, and took a nap. Later EJ dropped me off at the post office on his way to work. The new retractable leash I had ordered had arrived, so when I got home I took Danny for a walk. He hasn’t had many walks lately, mostly because I have either busy or tired and his old leash broke and hurt my hands. This new leash is wonderful. After we got home, I brought firewood into the house, did dishes, swept the floor, fed Luke, and talked to my friend.
Now it’s time to relax.
Well….after I feed Luke.
Journey Stories
I really enjoy stories about journeys because I can very easily relate to them and find wisdom and courage for life through them. There are a lot of wonderful journey stories, but today I’d like to focus on just a couple and what I learned through them.
Years ago, I came across a fictional story called Flanagan’s Run in a Reader’s Digest Condensed Book. The story took place during depression-era America. A notorious huckster, Flanagan, planned a marathon footrace from the west coast to the east coast with a glittering jackpot prize at the end. Two thousand hopefuls lined up at the starting line from every walk of life and all ends of the globe, each with a different reason for entering the race. Some wanted to prove themselves physically while others simply wanted money to feed their families. As they ran themselves ragged across America, they came up against numerous hazards, including the steep Rockies, shady mobsters and crooked officials. During the race, unofficial alliances formed between groups of individuals who gave advice and encouragement to each other. The story focused on the characters of one such group headed by Doc Cole, an older man who had experience running marathons. He advised the less experienced members of his group on how to care for themselves physically and how to pace themselves so they could finish the race. Yet, there could only be one winner of the race so although they helped each other across the country, they each had to run their own races.
Whenever I read the book, I’ve pondered that it is important to form “alliances” in life to help us through the tough places. We need each other, none of us can make it alone. We need to encourage each other, to give hope, to help a fallen friend regain his footing. However, we also each must run our own race. No one can live life for us, no one can make tough choices for us, no one can cling to faith for us, no one can really make us happy, We must run together through life, but in many ways we also run alone.
Another journey story I enjoy is my own. Since I was a child, I have always loved to go on walks with my dog. One summer several years ago, I began to walk for longer and longer distances with my dogs. At the time I had two dogs: Danny and a lab mix named Jake. At first, I walked one mile, then two, then five…every day I challenged myself to walk a little further. EJ began to encourage me to just keep walking every day through the summer to see how far I could walk. He said that when I got tired, I could call him on my cell phone and he’d pick me up. If I noticed that the dog I was walking was growing tired, he would drive to me and exchanged dogs, taking home the tired one and handing over the replacement. EJ was my support team. My walks that summer became my challenge, my test of endurance, my epic journey. I discovered some important things during that summer.
I learned that I needed to have a goal to reach. If I didn’t have a goal, I’d stop as soon as I got tired. A goal kept me going, pushing and challenging me. My goals kept expanding. As I reached one goal, I set another greater one.
However, I also learned that I had to have little goals as well. Sometimes the big goal seemed too unreachable. The hope that I could reach my goal faltered a bit when I got tired or my feet hurt. So I’d set smaller goals,, focusing on making it to the next road or tree or mailbox. I’d focus on taking a step, and then a step, and then another step. I could always, always take one more step. Little steps helped me reach big goals.
I also learned that if I woke up in the morning and felt that I just couldn’t reach any goals then I might as well stay home. Journeys–and battles–are begun and won in our minds and spirits. If I didn’t believe that I could reach my goal then I really couldn’t reach it. If I believed that no matter what challenges I faced or how tired I got, I was going to persevere, then I really could.
The hardest day for me was the day I decided to walk to the church we were attending, which was 9 miles away. The weather report said that the temps would be cool, so I dressed a bit warmer–too warmly it turned out. Being too hot drained my energy, but I kept walking, taking one step and one step and one step. I was determined that I would reach my goal. Several miles into the journey, I thought, “I can’t do this. I really can’t do this.” So I called EJ, “I need you to pick me up.” Rather than sit down along the road and wait for him to pick me and my dog up and take us home, I just kept walking. EJ didn’t come, and he didn’t come. I starting getting irritated with him–“I’m tired. I an’t do this. When is he going to pick me up? “Then I felt furiously desperate. “WHERE IS HE? I NEED HIM!” I kept walking. Then suddenly I noticed that I was getting closer to the church. “I hope he doesn’t come quite yet,” I thought. And I was almost there. “PLEASE EJ DON”T PICK ME UP, I AM ALMOST THERE!” I mentally begged him. I turned into the church parking lot. I had made it! I entered the church, refilled my water bottle, and drank deeply. Then I called EJ and I sat and waited for him to pick me up. When he arrived at the church, he told me he purposely had not come for me because he knew that I really didn’t want to give up, that I really wanted to make it to my goal, he believed in me, and he wanted to give me a chance to succeed. I said, “THANK YOU!” Walking to the church was a battle I was able to win. The next day I walked the 10 miles to the next town with no trouble at all, I ended up walking 12 miles that summer.
The struggle to the church made me ponder that God NEVER arrives too late to help us. Perhaps when it seems as if God is too late, He is actually helping us reach a goal, and to win battles that need to be won. Perhaps He is helping us attain a victory rather than a defeat. I mean, it’s like the story of Lazarus in the Bible. It appeared that Yeshua (Jesus) delayed too long and arrived too late to heal Lazarus. Lazarus died. However, Yeshua’s delay set up the awesome miracle of the resurrection of Lazarus. It’s just a thought.
I have pondered that all long journeys have certain challenges that must be overcome. Sometimes we get to travel through pleasant places. However, other times we must overcome difficult terrain: dry deserts, high mountains, flowing rivers, deep canyons. The weather also has a big effect on travelers. Sometimes the weather is pleasant, making the journey a delight. However, other times the sun beats down unmercifully, or the storms rage over our heads, or the cold freezes our bones, or deep snow drifts hinder our progress. Then there are the personal challenges. We have to overcome hunger or fatigue, discouragement or fear, diminished hope or faith. Finally, there are the people we encounter along the way. Some are encouraging and helpful, giving us strength to continue. Others make the journey more difficult.
I think we face the same sort of challenges through life. The terrain of our circumstances are always changing, sometimes pleasant, sometimes routine, sometimes difficult. Then there are the storms that rage around us, the merciless problems that beat down unceasingly, situations that chill us. We have to struggle with personal fears and discouragement that tell us we can’t make it. Then there are people we meet along the way. Some strengthen us with their love and support while others wound our spirits or whisper discouraging words that tempt us to despair.
Some people seem to believe that if a person has strong faith, he will walk through life in joyful ease. However, I think that no matter how strong our faith is, no journey is easy. All epic journeys change the travelers as they persevere and overcome the challenges. I keep epic journey stories in mind when I face difficult life challenges.
Gandalf: You’ll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.
Bilbo Baggins: …Can you promise that I will come back?
Gandalf: No. And if you do… you will not be the same.
I Love To Go A Gardening 