I Love To Go A Gardening
Growing Our Life in Northern Michigan
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.
The Havdalah Wine
As a family, studying Hebrew has deepened our understanding of Scripture and our faith in many ways. Several years ago, we began to celebrate Shabbat, which begins on Friday evening with a romantic candlelight dinner with God during which wine and special Challah Bread is blessed and enjoyed. The Christian “Communion” or “Lord’s Supper” originates from this. Saturday is a day of rest, spent enjoying God and each other. It’s really a delight to anticipate a day in which we can enjoy resting without guilt. Shabbat ends with a special little ceremony called “Havdalah.” It is a way to “separate” the beautiful Shabbat from the rest of the week.
Educators often say that the best way for a person to learn something is to engage as many of our five senses as possible: Sight, hearing, touch, smell, taste. Hah! God knew this before the educators did. He designed His feasts and Shabbat–His “appointed times”–to include all of our senses, making such celebrations truly special. For example, during the Passover meal, the story of the original Passover is retold. As slavery is described, everyone eats horseradish in order to “taste” the bitterness. When the sorrow of suffering is described, everyone dips parsley into salt water and shakes it to illustrate tears. At another point of the Passover meal, everyone dips their finger into their glass of wine and flicks droplets onto their plates each time they recite the ten plagues, symbolizing the loss of their joy as the Egyptians suffered from the plagues. The Jews do not rejoice when their enemies suffer. These are the things Jesus (in Hebrew “Yeshua”) was doing when He ate the Passover meal with His disciples before His crucifixion. The Passover meal is truly beautiful and meaningful.
In case a person thinks these are “mindless rituals,” the Jews teach that no blessing or ritual should ever be done mindlessly, but with intense focus and devotion to God. I love that above the cabinet holding the Torah scroll in every synagogue are the words, “Know Before Whom You Stand.” We must always keep in mind that we are standing in the very presence of God.
The Havdalah ceremony is quite beautiful. Fragrant spices are inhaled as a reminder of the fragrance of Shabbat. A beautiful braided candle is lit and our hands, which were created by God to work, are examined and appreciated in the light of the candle. Wine is blessed and a drop is spilled on a plate, signifying a lessening of joy as Shabbat leaves. We drink from our cups and the candle is snuffed out by dipping it into a special glass of wine as everyone shouts “Shavua Tov” or “Have a good week!” You can read about this ceremony in more detail here: Havdalah Ceremony. After this ceremony, the day of rest is over and normal work is resumed.
Because we participate in these Biblical feasts and ceremonies, I have sometimes been asked by my Christian friends if I am Jewish. I think I am becoming “too Jewish” for some of them. To be honest, ten years ago I probably would have felt the same. I am not Jewish, and I’m not forsaking my God, but I believe that the Messiah is/was Jewish, and He designed and participated in these Biblical traditions. Christians have ceremonies, traditions, and object lessons, and many of these Jewish ceremonies serve the same purpose: To remind us of truth and draw us closer to God. In fact, some of the Christian traditions originated from the Jewish traditions. However, the Christian traditions often seem to me to be a bit removed from the originals. I see deeper connection and truth in the way the Jews celebrate. I’ve learned so much about my Savior as I celebrate them. Everything points to HIM.
Anyway, usually wine is used during Biblical celebrations, because wine symbolizes joy, but it is acceptable to use grape juice, which is also a fruit of the vine. We have always used delicious kosher grape juice. However, several weeks ago, EJ and I found some real Kosher wine, and we decided to buy it to use during our Havdalah Ceremony. EJ has been working overtime lately, so Saturday night was the first opportunity we had to use the wine.
JJ and I have never, ever had wine, so this was a big moment for us. We felt a bit daring and dangerous to be drinking alcohol. JJ asked if we were going to get drunk. EJ explained that, no, we were only drinking a little glass of wine so it would not make us drunk. After EJ said the blessing, I told JJ, “This is a big moment. After we drink this cup, we will never again be good Baptists–because good little Baptists never drink alcohol. Once we drink this, we can never go back.” Solemnly, expectantly, we lifted our glasses and sipped our wine.
Gag! Ack! We gasped and choked like Gollum did when he ate elvish bread.
“YUCK!” JJ exclaimed. “This tastes awful! This tastes like VINEGAR!”
“This is HORRIBLE!” I agreed. “How can people enjoy drinking this swill?”
“I thought it would taste like really good grape juice,” JJ said. “But it tastes TERRIBLE.”
“I thought it would taste magical,” I said, thinking of all the descriptions I had read of wine at romantic dinners or picnics. “But it doesn’t taste magical at all.”
“You two are ridiculous,” scoffed EJ. “This is actually really good wine. It’s very tasty.”
“Really?” JJ and I questioned. “This is GOOD??? Bleagh!”
“I guess,” I declared sadly to JJ, “That we have failed the wine test. We are actually very good little Baptists after all.”
Maybe it’s an acquired taste, JJ and I speculated. Not ones to give up easily, we vowed to try again next week.
Night and Day
In attempt to find something that we can enjoy while JJ is fighting cancer, we have signed up for free trial months of Amazon Prime and Netflix. We had talked about getting Amazon Prime for a couple of years because we often shop on Amazon and the free shipping is appealing, but we are also enjoying Netflix. Amazon and Netflix have some of the same movies, but also some different ones. I think we are going to get both, since they aren’t all that expensive, and we really enjoy movies.
In the last couple of weeks we have been discovering interesting movies and TV programs on Amazon Prime and Netflix, including Doctor Who. I have heard a lot about Doctor Who over the years, but had never seen the program before. EJ, JJ, and I had a Doctor Who marathon yesterday, and we discovered that we really enjoy the show. I can see why it has a cult following.
The last Doctor Who episodes we watched last night before I headed to bed were 9 and 10 of season 1. It took place during WW2 and was about people who turned into childlike zombies. I like thrillers, suspense, and science fiction movies (among others), but not horror movies. In my childhood, even B horror movies used to scare me. I think because they made me feel trapped: people could never escape the monsters. Last night’s two-part Doctor Who episode felt horror movie-ish, and sort of scared me. I feel rather silly because it wasn’t all THAT scary, not really, but I think it tapped into stress I was already feeling. Especially just before bedtime. During the day I am mostly able to keep my focus on truth strong and not give in to stress, but I am vulnerable at night, when there are no distractions and my mind is too sleepy to always focus on truth. And if I don’t sleep well at night, I’m too tired to fight anxious thoughts during the day.
I think uncertainty causes stress, and there is a lot of uncertainty in our lives right now. During the day, I focus on the fact that many have survived this type of cancer, and we will take one day at a time, and I hold on to the truth that God will help us through whatever we have to face with JJ. At night, uncertainties about how JJ will react to chemo-therapy (if he needs it), and the difficulty of suffering with him as he (perhaps) vomits and loses his hair because of treatment, and the heartbreak of “what if he doesn’t survive?” nibbles at my peace.
During the day, I watch how God is showing us love through many, many people, and I am experiencing how He is caring for our physical needs. I feel so cared for! At night, however, I feel financially vulnerable. I hear stories about millions of people losing their health care, and the cost of ObamaCare. No matter what you, my readers, think about ObamaCare, the truth is that there is a lot of uncertainty with it, and I worry about how that will affect our son, and our ability to pay for his health care. Will we lose our insurance? Will we get bankrupted trying to pay medical costs? Will we be hungry, homeless, or watch our son die because we can’t afford ObamaCare?
And then there is my and JJ’s computers, both of which have developed problems. Our friend who is fixing my computer texted yesterday that he is getting a refund on my “brick” (the power cord thing) that he just installed a few weeks ago because it’s no longer working. He is having trouble finding a fan to replace the one that is dying. Apparently, technology is changing so quickly that even though my computer isn’t all that many years old, its fan is already obsolete. I think advances in technology are fun, but not if they change so quickly that a person cannot even find parts. In addition, if the motherboard on my computer is out, it will cost about $200 to replace it, which isn’t as bad as it could be, but is bad enough. We use our computers for so many things: news, education, research, entertainment, connection to others. EJ is sharing his computer with me while mine is being fixed, but sharing means neither one of us has full use of our computers, and his computer doesn’t have my bookmarks and photos and programs. And now JJ’s computer is not charging right. His computer is a gaming computer, which means EJ’s computer can’t run his programs. JJ feels very isolated without his computer. How can we afford the extra expense of fixing or replacing computers? During the day I feel that “Well, these things happen…” At night I feel like, “Really? The computers have to break down NOW?”
All these uncertainties–and more–I can fight during the day, but not always at night, and definitely not last night. I was stressed and sleepless through the night. I woke this morning from very little sleep. I felt tired, stressed, and overwhelmed. But first thing this morning I had to take the laundry to the laundromat. I had extra loads because I am washing all of JJ’s bedding because he has fleas in his room. I have been spraying everything multiple times to get rid of them. I have not noticed fleas in the rest of the house. Probably JJ has fleas in his room because he complained when I kept spraying his room earlier this summer so I probably didn’t spray his room as well. Plus, if I notice any flea in the rest of the house, I immediately commence the “Flea Protocol” and start to spray, but I do not go into JJ’s room all that often. I have never had the problems with fleas that I have had this year. They are probably developing resistance to flea spray. I hate fleas. In case you wonder, fleas cause stress.
Anyway, I care about many things, such as what’s happening in our country and the world. However, I find myself having to limit exposure to news and information, especially if it’s negative. I scroll through my FB page, sometimes reading an article or two, but I do not always read every discussion, news, or informational item. Sometimes even different information about good things is too much. Sometimes I just look at cute pictures of cats and dogs.
I told EJ this morning that I was thinking that in everything there must be a cut off point. For example, we have researched pork and believe that it’s really not good to eat. Besides the fact that God calls pork unclean in the Old Testament and I don’t see why, if He doesn’t change, that He’d suddenly call something good in the NT that He called an abomination in the OT, we researched pork and it just isn’t all that healthy to eat. When EJ stopped eating pork, he immediately had less problems with joint pain. (If you want to research the matter of pork, there’s a thought-provoking book by Hope Egan called Holy Cow! Does God Care About What We Eat?) But how far ought a person take this? Pig DNA is being inserted in various foods. Do we try to check out the DNA of food or do we stop at just reading labels on packages?
Does a person not watch movies that promote a lifestyle he disagrees with? That’s certainly valid. We all have criteria for which movies we choose to watch or avoid. However, where does a person draw the line? Does he refuse to watch movies in which the story does not promote a disagreeable lifestyle, but in which the actors in the movie live such lives? What about if the producers are engaged in such lifestyles? Or the camera crew? Or the makeup artists? How far do you research lifestyles before letting yourself enjoy a movie?
And then there’s food. I agree that food affects our bodies and we should eat healthy. I believe that GMOs and chemicals aren’t good for us. Neither are a lot of drugs. I mean, have you ever seen the drug commercials in which the side effects sound worse than the health issues the drug is supposed to cure? Why would a person take a drug for depression if the side effect of the drug is suicidal thoughts? Duh! But how far does a person take this? It seems that no matter what the food or supplement is, there is something negative about it. If we ate only “perfect food”, we’d probably starve to death because the list of “perfect” food is small. Dead is dead–does it really matter if a person dies of GMO or starvation? And everyone has a different opinion. Some people say to avoid all drugs, others say avoid certain foods. Some of EJ’s co-workers think we should take JJ to Mexico and treat his cancer with methods not approved in the USA.
Ai, yi, yi!
It makes my head ache.
I can’t help thinking about Howard Hughes, who was so afraid of germs that he became a crazy recluse. I mean, many germs are bad, but fear of them ruined his ability to enjoy life. Maybe he would have been happier if he had accepted a few nasty germs in his life. What good is being germ-free if you live a fear-full life?
I told EJ this morning that what good is it to be so stressed about making sure JJ has the most healthiest food, and the perfect treatment (whatever that is), if we get sick and die of exhaustion or stress to make it happen?
I appreciate the information that people share with us. I think people share out of love and concern, and they can’t know which piece of information will be something vital that we need. I do not think that any individual is flooding us with too much. However, I have “liked” a lot of natural health pages myself so there is a lot of information streaming on my FB page. Sometimes it feels like too much so I do not read every article. If I read every article, I would be reading articles all day long. And sometimes a person has to stop reading and start making choices. As EJ often says, “A good plan today is better than a perfect plan tomorrow.”
So what we are doing is the best we can do. I think that is all any of us can do. I have several friends fighting cancer, and I try to support them in whatever way they decide to fight it. Cancer is hard enough to fight without feeling we have to fight it the way another person would. Besides, I don’t think there is a perfect way to fight cancer. Maybe every way is good as long as we are fighting it.
In our family we are trying to make the healthiest choices we can, but not every choice is the perfect choice. Not everyone will agree with every choice we make. We cannot follow all the advice we are given, which doesn’t mean we don’t love the people (or pages) giving it. Some choices might have some negative consequences, but we have to weigh whether the benefits are worth the consequences.
In order to fight stress, sometimes I don’t read every article on FB. sometimes I just turn on Amazon Prime or Netflix and relax with a good movie. A good night’s sleep enables me to fight stress too. But probably I won’t be watching Doctor Who just before bedtime.
Ya’yetze
Early yesterday evening JJ’s computer started not charging right. Since my poor computer also has had problems charging, I texted our friend who fixes our computers and he said he’d look at JJ’s computer on Sunday. He suggested we make sure EJ’s computer is plugged into a surge protector. I realized that in all the buying and rearranging of furniture a few months ago, our computers became plugged into non-surge protector power strips. I wonder if that’s the problem? It just seems strange that two of our laptops aren’t charging right. EJ and JJ’s computers are now plugged into a surge protector. I will have to buy at least one more so no matter where we sit, a computer is always plugged into a surge protector.
Last night JJ and I discussed the fact that sometimes it’s the many little problems, not the BIG PROBLEMS, that wear us down. I mean, we know that we have to have endurance and courage and faith to get through the BIG PROBLEMS. But having computers fail or the cat poop right in the path so that I step in it on the way to letting the dog out into the fenced in yard….those many little problems that accumulate can feel like straws that break the camel’s back. Maybe because we are already aware of and preparing for the BIG PROBLEMS but the little problems crop up unexpectedly and throw us off-balance.
Oh, well. Such is life.
As I’ve said before, a few years ago I began to teach myself Hebrew. I do not know how a person can learn Hebrew and not learn about faith and life, since truths of faith and life seem to be intertwined into the very language.
As our family has studied Hebrew our faith has undergone change. For example, several years ago my family began to celebrate Shabbat (Sabbath). I always thought that Shabbat was a legalistic burden that was done away with “in Christ,” but as I met more and more Jewish believers in Yeshua (Jesus), I saw that they considered Shabbat to be a day to joyfully look forward to each week. “How could something so oppressive be a joy?” I wondered. So I asked a Jewish friend to explain it to me. She answered my millions of questions with infinite patience, and I finally understood. Shabbat begins on Friday evening and ends on Saturday evening. Friday night can be compared to a “date night” with God, complete with flowers and a romantic candlelight dinner. Saturday is sort of like a family day–a day to relax, rest, and enjoy God and family. It has become an utter delight to us.
Every Shabbat, synagogues around the world study the Parashah, or Scripture portions. Portions are read from the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms. Messianic Jews also add portions from the New Testament. It is believed that Ezra originally divided the Scriptures into these 54 portions so that through the year the entire Torah scroll is read. Yeshua (Jesus) referred to this reading schedule in Luke 24:44 when he said, “These are my words which I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must needs be fulfilled, which are written in the law of Moses, and the prophets, and the psalms, concerning me.”
My family has been studying the weekly parashah together over the last few years and we have found it a tremendous joy and blessing. Not only do we love to read and discuss the chapters of Scriptures, but we enjoy the deep insight of the Jews’ teachings on these passages. Usually we read the Parashah from the Hebrew for Christian website, but we also read teaching from other sources too.
This morning I woke up at about 7 a.m. Since EJ and JJ were still sleeping, I made coffee and then did a bit of reading. In preparation for the studying my family would enjoy together later, I read this week’s Parashah from the book A Taste of Torah by Keren Hannah Pryor. She is an Israeli Bible scholar who loves the Messiah. Her late husband founded The Center For Judaic-Christian Studies, and she is now in the process of setting up a new ministry of her own. I have become friends with her and study with her and a few others via video-chat. She is very sweet and has a lot of deep insight.
Anyway, this week’s Scripture portion is from Genesis 28:10 – 32:3; Hosea 12:12 – 14:10; John 1:43-51. The portion is called Ya’yetze, which means “And He Went Out.” One thing I read this morning concerning this portion in A Taste of Torah is:
“…The next verse describes how [Jacob] suddenly arrives at a place. The literal translation of the Hebrew text is more dramatic. Va’yifga ha’makom. “And he collided with the place.” It was a startling, unexpected encounter. Yifga suggests a dynamic encounter with an object that is traveling towards oneself. A word in modern Hebrew from the same root is paga, to hit (as in “to hit the target”), and a word familiar today, pigua, a terrorist attack.
As the redeemed of the Lord we move forward in our lives, planning in faith and hope towards our goals and desires, which we trust are in accordance with His will. But sudden, unexpected events can occur that interrupt our plans and disrupt the harmonious pattern we anticipated. They startle and shake us. On later reflection, however, we realize that unpleasant shocks can result in great good. We are given the opportunity to grow. They stir up the spirit and life within us and demand that we seek and reach out for God. They stretch the limits of our existence and our lives are changed.
I thought that accurately describes what has happened in our lives many times, most recently with JJ’s illness. We go along, life is normal, and then suddenly we “collide with a place.” I call these places “Life Quakes” because they are like earthquakes that shake and tear and unbalance us. They are not pleasant places. They are often an utter shock, even sometimes a horror. They are something we can’t handle on our own.
I actually dislike those quotes that say that God will never give us more than we can handle. Most of life’s difficulties I can’t handle–but I am convinced that HE can handle every situation. It’s often when life is difficult that God draws especially close. I love Psalms 18:12 which says, in the midst of an overwhelming flood of problems, that God “made darkness His secret place.”
I have encountered God in the dark secret places many times. Even now, with JJ’s cancer, there are good things happening. EJ, JJ, and I are drawing even closer together and we are experiencing God’s provision in a variety of ways.
I like this recent quote from Hebrew for Christians, which goes along with this thought of how dark places affect faith:
Brokenness distills the intentions of the heart by helping us to be more honest with ourselves. We begin to realize that we are more vulnerable than at first we thought; that our faith is not as strong as we imagined, and that our motives are often mixed and unconscious. Illusions are striped away; idols crumble; deeper levels of selfishness are uncovered; the gap between our words and our deeds is exposed… It is one thing, after all, to intellectually think about faith or to idealize spirituality, but it is quite another to walk out faith in darkness. Yet it is only there, in the rawness of heart, that we discover what we really believe and how our faith makes traction with reality…
Star of Our Own Lives
On Wednesday, I woke up earliest, as usual. EJ works second shift and JJ is a night-owl so they go to bed later than me and sleep later in the morning. I had to wake EJ and JJ at 9 a.m. so we’d have enough time to get to the lab for JJ’s blood test. We arrived at the lab at the perfect time–there wasn’t anyone ahead of us. When JJ’s number was called a minute after we arrived, I went in with him to distract him while his blood was being drawn. JJ has always been healthy and until last month he had never had any blood tests or surgeries.
The blood test was quickly over, and then we drove to the meat market where we buy our meat. After a bad experience at the market we used to go to (that market wasn’t all that honest and we saw a worker hugging cuts of beef to his dirty apron, which turned our stomachs), I searched the internet and found this one a couple of years ago. They raise and butcher their own cattle, are very clean, and have many awards on their walls. We bought some ground beef, all beef bologna, and a few patio steaks
Thursday was a tough day for JJ emotionally. His illness stressed him, he was discouraged that he can’t go to work or college, he is frustrated that he can’t lift anything heavier than 10 pounds, and he felt lonely. I had told him to expect to have a few bad days as he deals with this, but it’s still difficult when they come. Difficult for me too. I have been through some tough situations, and I got through them so I know he will have to learn to deal with and overcome his own trials, but it’s tougher to watch my son struggle then to go through difficult situations myself. When life seems terrible a person isn’t always ready to hear advice, so there’s not a lot I can do except hug him and tell him I love him.
By the next morning, JJ was doing better even though he hadn’t slept much the night before. I asked him if he wanted to go to the store with me for a change of scenery. He said he did, so we drove off for a drive through the beautiful autumn countryside to the store. I love car rides because they provide such wonderful opportunities to talk. An Internet friend had told JJ that he was “boring.” Honestly, I had a brief moment in which I felt like punching that Internet friend. JJ doesn’t need stuff like that right now.
However, I restrained myself and I told my son that I had just had some awesome insight the other day that “everyone is the star of his own life” and they all interpret everything from their own perspectives. This means that their own desires and needs seem more important than those of others. This sounds–and can be–selfish, but really all we have is our perspective to see things through. A healthy person can understand that just because something isn’t important to him, it doesn’t mean it’s not important to another person, and to also value what’s important to others. A healthy person will also understand that there must be a balance between caring for others and caring for ourselves. I mean, it’s possible to put others first to an unhealthy extent. I think it sounds really spiritual to say “always put others first” and I used to try to always put others first, but after many years I realized that there is no way I–or anyone–can meet all the expectations and demands of others and stay sane. No one can please everyone all the time. The key is balance. For example, last weekend was EJ’s mother’s birthday, and a sister-in-law emailed us to see if we were going. I recognized that it was very important to her, more important, at that moment, than anything else. Normally, it would have been very important to us to go too. However, right now our most important focus is JJ’s health. Doing what is best for him comes first above everything else. We won’t go to functions if we determine that JJ can’t handle it. EJ would have gone to the party without us except he had to work last weekend. So in this situation we put our own family before others, even those we love deeply. I know that some people get upset if others don’t do what they think is important, but I’ve come to believe that most people do the best they can and when there is different desires and expectations and choices, people have to determine what they can or cannot do. I tend to not get upset if others make decisions that do not agree with mine. In fact, I try to encourage people to put their own families first, and I respect their rights to make their own decisions.
Anyway, I told JJ on our drive to the store that if someone is “different,” people often call that one “weird, stupid, boring, or not funny.” I had a sister who told me throughout my childhood that I was “boring” because I liked to read. I did other things too, but any time I did something she didn’t want to do–like read–she told me I was boring. She told me so often that I believed her and for a long time I didn’t think anyone would like me because I was “boring.” But eventually I realized that I was boring only to people like her. There are plenty of people, including my husband, who think I am interesting and who appreciate that I read and ponder–because they also love to read and ponder. Through many of our adult years, this same sister told me that I wasn’t funny. She even said loudly at her birthday party a few years ago, “See, TJ? This is what it’s like to have fun.” It got very annoying, but I refused to let it define me. We are different people, not the same. I have lots of fun, and plenty of people appreciate my sense of humor, but my sister never really understood me. To her, because I was different from her, I was “less.” I think her humor tends to be more goofy, which I think is delightful, while mine is more witty, which is also delightful. So, I told JJ again, people don’t always understand others, and they label them odd or weird or boring just because they are different. Appreciate the differences in others. “Different” does not mean “wrong.” Realize that we all have some undesirable traits, and we always have areas in which we need to improve, but don’t always take what others say as “reality.” It’s only their perspective. People will come into his life some day who truly appreciates and love who he is: a compassionate, intelligent, and witty young man. It just takes a while sometimes to find compatible friends.
JJ and I had an enjoyable time at the store. On the way home, he was so tired that he fell asleep. I dropped him off home so he could go to bed, and then I drove two blocks to our grain elevator to buy some cat and dog food.
As I was arriving home, I got a text from my friend who lives in another state. She told me that she had googled to find Chubby’s, JJ’s favorite restaurant in own town. She called them up, asked them if they knew JJ (to make sure she had the correct restaurant) and then paid for some meals there. She said she didn’t live close enough to bring us a meal, so she bought some meals for him at Chubby’s. I thought that was incredibly and creatively sweet. I have some very sweet friends who have given us some wonderful gifts: a fragrant candle left at our door, money sent to buy groceries for JJ, a delicious homemade apple pie brought to us by a dear neighbor, a friend’s visit and the lending of a favorite movie, a donation can in Chubby’s to help with medical expenses. We are all very touched by such expressions of love. “See?” I told JJ. “People really love and care about you.”
Every Friday morning I make Challah Bread. If we don’t eat it all, I always put the leftovers outside for the birds to eat. The bread is so special that I hate to just throw it away in the trash. It won’t be long before snow starts to fall, and I didn’t want the bread crumbs to get lost in the snow, so yesterday afternoon I built a simple pillar out of stacked bricks outside my kitchen window where I can watch the birds as I do dishes. Then I put the bread crumbs on top. This morning I saw that the birds were visiting the pillar. I might move the pillar though because it is somewhat blocked by the post the birdhouse is on.
Giving and Receiving
This post is really a continuation of my thoughts from yesterday about giving and receiving.
I have been learning Hebrew for the last few years. It really is a fascinating language filled with deep meaning. I think it’s impossible to learn the language without also learning deep insights into spiritual truths and how to live life.
In studying Hebrew, I have learned that much of Western culture is built upon Greek thinking. The Greeks were logical thinkers, They discussed abstract ideas. They believed in cause and result, and that if A was true then B could not be true. This is contrasted with Hebrew thinking, which was very concrete and action oriented. The Hebrews didn’t discuss beliefs they lived their beliefs. They were comfortable with mystery, and they believed that two opposite things could both be truth. “These also are the words of God,” they say. While a Greek-thinking person would argue whether we chose God or God chose us, a Hebrew-thinking person would say that both were true: God chose us and we choose Him. The Bible is filled with these opposite truths, these paradoxes: God is sovereign yet man has freewill, Yeshua (Jesus) was God and also man, the Bible was written by men but was God-breathed, and so on.
I believe that we have to hold on to both opposite truths. If we go too far to one extreme or another we fall into error. A lot of church denominations have split because some believed one truth and not its opposite.
What does this have to do with giving and receiving?
As I wrote yesterday, I believe that if we must stay balanced between giving and receiving. If we give and refuse to receive, we fall into one kind of error, and if we receive but refuse to give we fall into another kind of error.
Today I was thinking of something Watchman Nee wrote in his book, Changed Into His Likeness: “The distinctive feature of true Christianity is that it compels people to receive.”
It’s very humbling to have to be the receiver. To receive, a person must admit that he has a need, that he can’t handle life on his own. We can’t receive God’s forgiveness if we can’t acknowledge that we need forgiveness. We can’t receive His mercy unless we acknowledge that we need mercy. We can’t receive His comfort if we can’t acknowledge that we need comforting. In order to obtain what God has to give us, we have to be willing to receive.
As I wrote yesterday, I’ve observed that people who give but refuse to receive often have a facade of strength, but they can become too proud to admit their weakness and need. If they can’t accept the help of other people, they cut off a lot of God’s care because often God supplies our needs, gives us comfort, and lifts us up through people. I often think of a short story in which a man was stranded on the roof of his house as a result of major flooding in his area. He asked God to rescue him. A short time later a helicopter hovered overhead and a person called out to ask him if he needed help. “No,” the man replied. “God will rescue me.” The helicopter flew away. A bit later, a speedboat came by, and those in the boat asked if they could rescue him. “No, God will rescue me.” Off sped the speedboat. Then a man in a rowboat came by. “Do you need help?” “No. God will rescue me.” Away went the rowboat. At this, God called from heaven, “I’ve sent you a helicopter, a speedboat, and a rowboat…what more do you want???” If we can’t accept the help God sends through others, we are actually rejecting His gifts.
Yet, those who always receive and never give are often very self-centered, moaning about their troubles with very little compassion for others who are hurting. There are times when we are all weak and needy and we cannot go on without someone to lift us up and help us get back on our feet. (In the Biblical story, the sick man could not have made it to Yeshua without the help of his friends who carried him.) However, at some point we need to reach out to others who are also suffering. Even as my family suffers with JJ’s cancer, there are people around us who are struggling with severe illness or other problems. They are reaching out with comfort to me (which I receive) but I also try to reach out with comfort to them (giving to them). We must both give and receive. Sometimes we are able to give more, and sometimes we must receive more, but in the end it’s a balance between the two.
I think giving and receiving go hand in hand: How can you give if no one receives? Yet, how can you receive if no one gives?The curious thing is that when one person gives and the other person gratefully receives, the recipient gives a blessing to the giver by their receiving of his gift.
Here There Be Love
This morning I called JJ’s college instructors to talk to them about his classes. Of course, since I didn’t know their teaching schedules, I got their voice mail. One instructor, who teaches JJ’s stress management class, called back later. I told her that JJ wouldn’t be able to drive to the college for classes, and I asked if there any way he could do his assignments on-line. She said “Absolutely” so I handed the phone to JJ to discuss assignments with her. He talked to her for quite awhile and then told me that she said that he could write journal entries. If he couldn’t write, she’d accept a phone call as a journal entry. She said that he could call her at any time if he had questions. JJ had been nervous about talking to his instructors about school, but I had told him that I thought that talking to them would be very encouraging and would set his mind at rest. I was right. I expect that talking to the other instructors will also be as encouraging.
I’m glad we are getting this college issue addressed.
Since JJ started working at McDonalds last May, he has enjoyed ordering takeout from a little local diner, and then walking the two blocks to pick it up. The diner has only been in business for about a year, and JJ loves the food. He has gone there so often that he has developed a rapport with the husband/wife owners. Today JJ asked if he could have his favorite meal from Chubby’s, and since we are trying to fatten him up, I called in the order. After she took my order, the owner asked, “Is this for our boy?” I said yup! “It will be ready in 15 minutes,” she replied.
When I walked down to pick up the meal, the woman told me that she and her husband really care about JJ and he has supported their business so they would really like to support him by putting a donation can in their diner to raise money to help with his medical expenses. She wondered if I would mind. I could see the love in her face and was very touched. I could see that she wanted to do something for JJ so I gave her permission.
I think it’s difficult to accept help sometimes. However, I have heard from several cancer support groups/people that if support is offered, we should accept it. I also remembered something that I observed and pondered several years ago regarding two friends.
One friend loved to give to others, but she never wanted to receive. She only let people see her strengths. Whenever she was struggling, she’d withdraw. The other friend loved to receive, but she never really gave. She cried for hours about her problems and how no one cared, but when her friends were hurting and needed her, she ditched the friendship. These two friends taught me a lot about giving and receiving. It’s sort of complicated to describe though, so I hope I can make sense.
I believe that there is a positive and a negative side to giving and to receiving, and to be well-balanced, we need to be able to do both: to both give and receive.
What I observed is that in giving, a person learns to be generous, to care for others, to be other-centered rather than self-centered. When a person gives, she allows God to use her to bless others and she receives a blessing in return. It’s amazing to be used of God to help others.
However, I’ve also observed that if a person insists on always being the one to give and she never allows others give to her, she can become arrogant. She can see herself as the strong one, who is never, ever weak or needy. She is the wise one with all the answers. I’ve seen such a one begin to treat others with contempt because they are weak. I’ve seen her believe she has to protect others from the truth because “they can’t handle truth.” Also, no one is strong all the time, and having to maintain a facade of strength can be exhausting, as well as lead to hypocrisy. It can cause a person to feel like a martyr and to become resentful of always having to give to others.
In a way, I think the Only-Givers who have to be the strongest and wisest sort of feed off of the weakness of others. Because they have to be the strongest, the wisest, the most generous, they force people in their lives to be only receivers. Because they have to be the ones who generously bless, they steal from others the opportunity to bless. They do not experience God’s blessing because they reject the need to be given to.
I have also observed that a person who receives gets to experience the awesome help God gives through others. It is so amazing to have a desperate need, and then to have the need miraculously met. It can be humbling to have to accept help, but in receiving from others, a person learns humility, which is an important trait to learn.
One the other hand, I’ve observed that a person who always receives and never gives is in danger of becoming self-centered and overly dependent. Such a person becomes almost a vampire, sucking strength from others. These people never experience the joy of helping others.
I believe that the healthiest people are those who can both give AND receive. They get to be a blessing to others by giving, but they also give others the opportunity to be a blessing as well when they are willing to receive. They get to be used of God to help others, but they also let others be used of God. They learn to be other-centered by giving, but they learn humility through receiving.
Sometimes when someone gives to me abundantly, I feel humbled by their generosity, I thank God for using them to provide for us in awesome ways. I also remind myself how much I am joyfully blessed when I am able to help others. and I think “So why would I want to selfishly deny others that same blessing by rejecting their generosity?”
Today, when I saw the love on the face of the owner of the diner as she described the way she wanted to give to JJ, I thought.
Here there be love.
And I accepted it, even though it was humbling, because I know that I am blessed when others accept my loving help when they are in need.
Does this make sense?
