A Hint of Heaven

This is the day that the Lord hath made; that the Lord hath made.
We will rejoice and be glad in it; and be glad in it!

Okay, I can't help it. I feel like singing and dancing in the streets of Drayton - but I can't possibly give the neighbours something else to talk about. So I will dance in my living room and close the curtains!

     My darling son and his wife got a little surprise a week and a half shy of their due date. Mr. L now has a big brother to love and squeeze. We have another little dumpling to love and to cherish...

Every time I see a new little one, I cannot help but think about Psalm 139:14

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;

      you formed me in my mother's womb.

   I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!

      Body and soul, I am marvelously made!

      I worship in adoration—what a creation!

   You know me inside and out,

      you know every bone in my body;

   You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,

      how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

   Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;

      all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

   The days of my life all prepared

      before I'd even lived one day.

[The Message]

    

This surely is the day and I'm loving it!

A Cause for Celebration!

My first bald photo back in 2008!

When I first started writing this blog in 2008, I did so with purpose and passion. My original plan was to keep family and friends informed about how life was as a cancer patient. I can't recall who suggested I start blogging about my journey - hence the name (My Journey.) But it surely was a jolly good idea. Tomorrow will be the fourth anniversary of my first blog. My debut post was on Friday, August 1st, 2008. Here is a snippet from the beginning...

The good news is that I am now half way through my chemotherapy. This entire cancer issue has changed our lives in a dramatic way. No one ever knows what is around the corner so if I had to offer some advice, it would be to love your family unconditionally...hold them close if you can or make sure you keep in touch; pray and trust God for the big things and the details and talk to Him regularly; pursue your dreams and make sure you forgive with fervor, laugh without restraint and dance whenever your heart wants.

I actually like that advice about forgiving, laughing and dancing. And it's probably something we should do whether afflicted or not.

When I wrote that post I had no clue that I would still be here four years later. I rejoice. God is so good. But you know what? Even if I wasn't here, God would still be good. I am slowly coming to terms that I need to come to terms with life and death. We all live. We all die. I just read in my Bible last evening, in Philippians 1:12 - Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel. Paul was speaking about how he was going through a difficult situation but he remained strong because it would help further the gospel. Verse 22 goes on to say: If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! Paul knew. He knew that heaven was a better place, but he also felt he had work to do. It's not up to us whether we live or die. Pain and suffering can be a platform to share. That's what I want my life to be.

The butterfly danced in my garden! Perfect symmetry! 

God has taught me much these past four years. He has introduced situations, experiences and moments of realization. He has put special people in my life. He has taught me how to be very still and to trust Him in ALL situations. He has shown mercy and grace. He has chastised and forgiven. I know without a doubt that there is a God. He is mighty to save and desires all of His children - His beloved creation - to come to Him - heavy laden or otherwise.

I took a picture of a butterfly dancing around my garden the other day. As I tried my best to get a good shot, I found myself really focusing on the tiny winged creature. The beauty in the perfectly painted petal wings. The splendid colours and the arrangement of pattern. The attraction of insect to flower. A bee joined the party as I was snapping one picture after another. I watched them both interact and dance around the flower bed. How? I mused. How can anyone say such loveliness is born out of blackness and a big bang of randomness scattered thusly to achieve perfection?

I don't have all the answers. I actually have a million questions. But I choose to believe, to trust, to rejoice, to give thanks and to love. When I do that, I have that perfect peace that really and truly does passeth all understanding.

How to Save a Woman's Life

"Looks like a ridge of tissue and perhaps an accumulation of more tissue around the duct, but I am no doctor."

The technician was gracious. Her reassuring words gave me some measure of sweet relief, although I didn't have any sense of impending doom before I went in for my ultrasound yesterday.

The mammogram a week and a half ago did not show anything untoward so there was no need to step up the battle stations, however the two palpable lumps were a bit of a concern that had to be investigated.

As I tucked the front of my non-glamorous gown in after the ultrasound, the technician said the doctor would read the report, make out his response and then they would get back to me. I am not worried.

When I think back to Miss Casey who did my ultrasound and found the tumours in my ovaries, she did know (she told me that later.) But of course she was not at liberty to say anything. She was the sweetest, kindest first person on my journey of 'discovery' and every time I went back to see her for more 'lump investigations,' we chatted and laughed. As I think back, Casey did not say anything about 'things looking okay' or 'nothing to worry about,' like this gal yesterday. Which was a good thing at the time.  Must be hard for technicians when they really do see something.

 I guess I am a little more attuned now - sometimes a little too much! I tend to be a bit of a lumpy person [benign lipomas here, there and everywhere] but I cannot help being concerned with every lump now, until it is investigated. I think it has something to do with me missing the 'big, real, nasty' ones before. I will be forever on guard.

The news wasn't so good for my friend, however. Her routine mammogram showed something untoward and she was also called back for an ultrasound (she had no palpable lumps or pain) and at 50 years of age, she just thought she would follow the doctor's advice and get things checked out following her physical.

I guess the moral to the story is to never assume. My friend experienced no signs or symptoms. No warning indicators that something may be amiss. No niggling feeling that something isn't quite right. Cancer is like the creeping lion looking for someone to devour  [Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8 NIV]

This lovely gal who is now dealing with the diagnosis of breast cancer is also dealing with the good news that things look hopeful for her because she has been caught early. She has a bit of a road to travel, yet all seems manageable at this point. She has to go through the rigours of radiation and they are doing some further testing to see if she might have to undergo chemotherapy. I sure hope not. That is not an easy thing to endure. Been there. But she will endure...her faith will get her through.

Each day I light a candle for my friend. I love candles. I love what the light symbolizes. When I see that candle burning quietly on my counter, I think of my friend and I am reminded to pray for her. I am reminded of the Light of the World. [When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."John 8:12

I will keep this candle burning for my friend for as long as needed. Some may call it silly, but to me it is symbolic. Far too many women have died from breast or other gynaecological cancers. It's my reminder. We need to help make sure women are aware and alerted to the importance of an annual physical. No woman should have to die an early death because of this hideous, creeping, devouring disease - cancer. 

I rejoice that my friend was caught early. 

I pray that mothers, daughters, aunts, sisters, grandmothers, granddaughters, nieces...everywhere will be alerted to the importance of early detection.

This little light of mine; I'm gonna' let it shine...

  

Facing the Music...

Wednesday, I return. Six months has passed since I last visited the Cancer Clinic but this week I make that two hour trek back to London to find out what's next. Not sure if I am all alone with these mixed feelings, but I am heading west with trepidation. I wonder. I wonder why, in the first place this happened. I wonder why  it is looking like things are going well in the survivor department for me but it did not for Becky (who was thirty with a little boy and she died from ovarian cancer) . I wonder what it is in my feeble mind that make me not able to stop thinking about cancer. Every lump; every bump; every elevated blood pressure causes me to consider that cancer may once again be rearing its ugly head. So tomorrow, I go for physical at my local clinic to check out these issues. My doctor who originally found my cancer will declare me fit and well. My medical expert will tell me that I am just imagining the worst and anticipating the negative. She will tell me that my high blood pressure is hereditary and that soon it will resolve itself. My time has not come for I feel I have yet still work to do.
So I will give my head a shake. I will trust God and I will focus on his plan to see me through once again. Dr. S...are you ready for my questions, my probing, my crazy,disjointed questions...?

God is so good....He really is so good to me!

God Is In My Head

We were heading home when out of the blue, my darling little grandson said it.
"Grandma and Mom, God is in my head."
We both gulped. My daughter was driving and I noticed her hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. One never knows what the little munchkins might say, but when it comes to 'God things,' I am intrigued.

"So, what does God look like?" Mommy asked.
"Well, He is wearing a Boston Jersey, 'cause He knows I like Boston" that sweet little monkey replied. We laughed.
"What is God saying to you?" It was my turn to interrogate.
"He tells me that he loves me and that he really likes it when I do well at stuff."
I wanted to climb into the back seat with my 6 year old Mr. T, hold him and never let him go. His descriptions and comments continued and, although I cannot remember the exact words, it turns out God wanted to play with my grandson [again] and when He plays, He plays fair.

Call it imagination and child's play. I prefer to call it communing and soul stirring. Miss J. - my granddaughter, who did not have the privilege of meeting my sweet Momma in this earth, told us a while ago that she actually did talk to her in heaven. She wouldn't tell us any more than that. Only that she knew her.

I choose to believe these little ones. Jesus said to His disciples in Mark 10:14-16: "Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upo n them, and blessed them."

They know something we don't...

If only we could find that 'child-like' mind once again. Instead of being bombarded by the world and all its negativity, wouldn't it be nice have 'God in our head?'

It's been a lovely, simple mother's day, free from obligation and stress [and I get to do it all over again with my gorgeous son and his family next week]. How blessed am I?

Why Do I Write?

(First published on Inscribe Christian Writer's Fellowship Blog)

                                         

1.  Why do I get up each morning? 

Some days are diamonds some days are stone

Some time the hard times won’t leave me alone...The wonderful part about daybreak is that I know not what awaits me once I poke my head out of the covers. Most mornings my wonderful hubby wakes me up with a steaming cup of Tetley's. I then mentally review my to-do list and then remind myself that my day depends on my attitude - I can make it or break it. I get up each morning because I haven't finished yet...

2.  Why do I write?

      I always loved composition in school. I wrote songs with my sisters when we lived in Scotland. My teacher told me I should always do my very best in English. It would help me in everything. Thanks Mrs. McLeod.

3.  What motivates me?

      My hubby has worked hard all his life. He often took on extra jobs to help cover the cost of being who we were. We homeschooled our wonderful kiddos and laughed more than we cried. We had more than a few challenges and hiccups but God was with us every dance step of the way. I told my happy hubby that one day he could retire and I will follow my dream to write...write...write...fulltime [and make some money, too.]

4.  Why do I write?

      Words are like gossamer silk. Every thread delicately intertwines to create a web of words. As I write from my heart, I pray I will touch the hearts of others and my desire is that my soul words please the heart of God.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. Phillipians 4:8

5.  What is life? Life might very well be defined as the absence of death. But it is so much more. When I see my little grandbabies discover their world; when I hear the infectious laughter of an infant; when I realize the gifts God has bestowed upon His people and then see His people use those gifts for His glory; when I see medical miracles; learn that we are having another grandchild; hear the laughter of children; hear the laughter of adults; see the compassion of individuals; see and experience family; watch a frustrated student have an 'aha' moment; when I feel a hug; hear a kind word; have an opportunity to share what I have; realize the responsibility of being a parent, a grandparent, a wife, a friend...then I start to know what life is!

6. Why do I write?

     When I write what I know the words flow. The obsession to fill a page with words consumes my mind and soul. When writing opportunities are absent, my mind stays on God trusting Him to guide me into perfect timing to share my heart.

7.  What discourages me?
     Watching televised news exemplifies the sinful, fallen world. I wonder why we do to each other that which denegrates, maligns, defames and destroys? Rejection; amber alerts for stolen children; cruel words; misuse of power; greed for that which we are not entitled; carelessness of heart. Thankfully, the tiny Babe was sent to remind us of why we exist; to deliver; to offer hope; to save.

8.  Why do I write?
     My idea file overflows. There are ideas for articles, books, devotions, stories floating around in my mind constantly. I am overwhelmed with what to do with these words. So I write.
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth

9.  What is my favourite Scripture?
      Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

10.  Why do I write?
       The act of writing causes my brain to settle and focus. If my writing is all task and focussed solely on deadline, I can tell. If my writing flows because I have acknowledged God as the giver of all gifts and then taken the time to be still, I sense a better connection and a calmness in my soul.

11. Why am I thankful?

      All I need do is look around. All I need do is remind myself Who is beautifully in control. All I need do is think back to times of turmoil and distress; joy and celebration...and then I remember.

12. Why do I write?

      I always believed in God. The God of my past was there for my convenience, though - when I was sad, troubled, upset. Then my heart became hungry for something greater than my own words. God led me to a place and showed me the Light. My soul was stirred.  I found ways to express myself via the written word.

13.  What will I do with the rest of my life?

        What is the rest of my life? There's a country song "Live Like You Were Dying" by Tim McGraw.  I'm not too sure about the skydiving, the rocky mountain climbing or going two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chew. But I do like the part about loving deeper,  speaking sweeter  and giving forgiveness I'd been denyin'...

We might think we have the inside scoop on our days but I never felt those tumours growing.

14.  Why do I write?
        There's  nothing like walking a mile in someone's sandals, they say. When I extract both the toxins and the precious jewels from my life I find people who say they understand why I write. They can relate; they want to hear my stories; I want to hear theirs.   

 15.  What scares me?

      What if I lose my way? What if I lose my mind? What if I lose my salvation?

 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.John 3:16 

16. Why do I write? 
      There is something particularly calming and thrilling when I get to spend significant hours partaking in the art of writing. I feel a sense of accomplishment when I get to dig out my ancient ledger and enter - by hand - the latest project. I tried keeping track of my submissions on the computer and everyone tells me that that is the correct thing to do. I do have a program or two that I can use but for some silly reason I keep going back to my oversize forest green ledger. It feels like a reward when I write by hand in this great book. 

17.  How do I measure success?

       Sure I want to be a successful writer. I guess the key is defining successful? Perhaps credibility will be determined if I make x number of dollars or sell x number of copies. But true success for me will be measured by a degree of satisfaction gleaned from knowing someone has been encouraged, educated, confronted, consoled, motivated, entertained, challenged, inspired, comforted, cheered, stirred by my stories.

18.  Why do I write?  
       Every time I teach the alphabet to my students, my mind boggles. How can 26 little letters come together to create over 600,000 words? We are quick to teach the alphabet to our charges but are we equally as quick to teach them how to love and respect words? 
       Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

19.   Should I dance like no one is watching?

       Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen? ~Friedrich Nietzsche

 

20.  Why do I write?

       Just as my heart beats in perfect harmony within the rhythm section of God's orchestra, my passion for the craft pulsates perfectly as I wait upon the Lord for inspiration.  

Love, is why I write...

Celebrating Life...Wondering...

Four years ago today, I received the diagnosis from my doctor.
"The news is not good," were the few words she uttered. "It's ovarian cancer..."

I felt the air being sucked out of my soul. I can't actually say that my life flashed before me, though, although it does sound dramatic and reasonable. But I remember feeling a sudden need to be held. God, as usual, was on the job for I had opted to go alone to the doctor's, thinking she would be telling me something minor was untoward and I was stepping kicking and screaming into menopause.

Gilles was the first person to know about my cancer. He is always the first to know. Thirty four years later - and he still has my back.

I recall the sick feeling as we prepared to tell Amanda and Trevor. All I could think of was my beautiful family and how I suddenly felt as if I was being ripped away from my babies.

Lest I start revisiting that moment, I will recall with jubilant joy, how God has taught me well through my cancer journey, and over these four years of remission.

I have seen the faces of pure caring. I have received kindness and compassion that I never imagined. I have learned that relationship is so much more than task and the trivial, is just that - unimportant. I help when I can and sometimes when I feel I cannot. Others did it for me. It's the least I can do to pay it forward.

I, admittedly, do struggle with cancer guilt. I don't know if that is an oddity or whether it would be classified in the big psychology tome as a 'normal' response to surviving a terminal disease. Today I learned that a woman who is not so blessed, lucky, fortunate (what do we call it?) is slowly succumbing to cancer. I will be seeing her this weekend as we host our big fundraiser for the Ovarian Cancer Canada Walk of Hope. She wants to join us (as she has done for the past four years) and she wants to scrapbook and laugh and relax with 99 other rootin' tootin' cowgals for the cause. We are overjoyed that she is coming but I cannot help battling the guilt of living while she is dying.

But we will show her a wonderful, Wild West good time and we will help her rejoice in the moment - that's another thing I learned on my journey - life is fleeting so now is the time to celebrate.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy4:7

Day 10 - Dear...

In this challenge, I am supposed to write a letter to myself at 16 years of age. Here we go...

Dear 16 Year Old Me: 

I'm so sorry. I know you had so many plans and dreams and you planned on a very long and healthy life. I didn't mean to disappoint you nor did I intend to create such a time of turmoil in 2008. Often times when things went wrong, I have said 'no one to blame but myself...' I am still trying to get my head around that and am trying to figure out what I did wrong in my life or what bad choices I made that gave me cancer. Guilt is not something I want to savour, but something in my head gnaws occaisionally.

They say that ovarian cancer is hereditary. No one that I know of in my family had it. Do I blame it on those times when I stupidly lay out in the hot son cooking my skin just so I could get a nice tan? Was it the talcum powder I used? I read somewhere that increased talcum use might be a contributor to ovarian cancers.I read the other day, too, that taller people are more susceptible - such a hokey claim if you ask me. I'm 5' 6".  Supposedly those who don't have children and those who did not breast feed are more likely to be an ovarian cancer candidate. I have two children and breast fed them both until they were close to a year old. Was I being punished for being a dumb teenager? I don't believe God works like that...why am I telling you this, anyway?

I guess maybe I want to remind you that if you get a chance, pay a little less attention to the unimportant and put special emphasis on what truly is meaningful:

- love your family no matter what
- show unconditional love at every opportunity

- love God with your mind, heart and soul

- share Jesus
- help when you can
- share your things, your money, your love, your smile (you never know how good your timing just might be!)
- take a moment to reflect on the sunshine
- give thanks
- pray
- tell someone every day that you love them (and mean it)
- go out of your way to help someone (every day, if you can)
- give or find ways to help raise money for something near and dear to you
- keep a journal or a record somewhere, of your thoughts
- laugh
- cry
- laugh again
- forgive

- pursue your dream with passion

- give your life to the Lord

- dedicate your life to making your corner of the world a better place

- read and relax

- listen to music

- share the good things

- learn a new language - the love language...

- give thanks to God for his mercy endures forever

- pray again

- trust God

Wondering - is my advice my regret...? Hmmm...

Day 9 - Poster with concise content!

Today's health challenge was to create a poster using a specific template provided. I am no graphic designer, but here is one based on my mantra as I journeyed along the cobblestones of cancer.

Photo credit: Amanda Newton. (She is also the model here. She sure can move fast with her camera timer!)

Day 8 - Writing Dialogue

The challenge today is to recall an awesome conversation and write it either in script-style (or with dialogue) from this week.

Okay, so now I am in trouble and I am thinking that I am not going to be able to rise to this health-related challenge. Somehow my addled brain has trouble with such recall and to try to create an honest rendition here about a conversation that has to do with health, is not going to happen. I would be forced to confabulate (exaggerate and making things up!) so instead of going that route, I will present a little one way conversation I had with me, myself and I today.

What? It's dialogue, right?

Me: Happy Easter!
Myself:  Happy Resurrection Day
I: What are you talking about?

Me: Lord, why is it so hard for some people to believe in a resurrected Jesus?
Myself: Happy Resurrection Day!
I: But people might think I have a screw loose if I start talking about resurrection and Jesus and stuff.

Me: Weren't you listening to the sermon today? Pastor D was talking about claiming the victory.
Myself: Happy Resurrection Day!
I: I heard it but I was thinking about how I sometimes wonder

Me: It's okay to wonder. But do you believe? Remember what happened in 2008?
Myself: Happy Resurrection Day!
I: Refresh my memory. Oh, hold on...do you mean during the time we were having those 'health issues?'

Me: Yes, that was it. Remember the Tim Horton's Angel? Remember the prayer right out of the blue. And the time that Sue left a message on my machine saying she was praying for us and she had to call us to find out why? (we hadn't seen her in two years!) Then remember when our favourite scripture appeared at the best of times and at the worst of times? Hardly a coincidence.
Myself: Happy Resurrection Day!
I: Yes, I do recall that now that I think about it. Wow...so many indicators of God's power. I am starting to remember now.

Me: It's Easter today. It's a time for us to (collectively) celebrate the risen Lord. He was set free by the power of God's hand. Remember how when we would watch the incessant drip, drip, dripping of the chemotherapy through the intravenous line, we wondered if we would make it through the week, let alone the year? Well, hello...three Easters later, and here we are. Time to celebrate - would you not say?
Myself: Happy Resurrection Day!
I: Correct! I need to shift focus off us and not make this into something about me (or myself, or I). I think I am going to agree with Myself for the first time in a long time. Don't  mind if I join in!

ME, MYSELF AND I (in one accord):