I decided to pick a word for 2014…my one little word, which will require a lot from me. One that I pray I will live, breathe and act upon throughout the year. Serve.
I didn't debate a lot over the weekend as to whether to select a word or which of the three words I would select. It was decided the moment our interim pastor began to share his message on Sunday. It should have been my word last year. Instead I wasted a whole year.
Not to be dramatic, I don't even know how much time I have this year. But I want to try. I have to try.
The definition of serve is "to be a servant" or "to be of use". For me it means putting others first. It means doing the work of God. Not because I'm God, but because we're called to be his hands and feet, to act on his behalf.
Other than that I don't know what that means, what will be asked or required of me. It'll be interesting to find out.
It's the ordinary things in life that make living extra-ordinary. It's our job not to pass them by.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Jan 5 - Five Years Ago
On this day in the year 2009, my life changed forever. A routine doctor's appointment that began with a mammogram ended with a visit to the radiology department where a ultrasound was performed after which I drove home with a fear unlike any I had ever had before. Thus began my journey of living with cancer.
Prior to that day, I had not been to the doctor for over ten years. I had not had a cold, a flu or any other malady necessitating a trip to the doctor's. Then in late October, early November, back pain began to plagued me. At first I thought it was due to the VW bug I bought in September. A two-door car, low to the ground was causing me to twist and turn in ways I didn't need to with my RAV-4, I reasoned. It made sense, at first, to me and my family.
But then even walking became hard, my right leg dragging in a way it never had before. Still, I kept waiting for the morning that I would wake up and pop out of bed like normal. As Christmas approached, Brie began to tell me that I needed to see a doctor. After spending Christmas day at my brother's in which getting up from the couch was hard to do, I finally agreed and scheduled my appointment. I agreed to get the mammogram first since I had not had one…ever. My appointment day was set for 3:30pm, Monday, January 5, 2009.
As the hour that I would need to leave work for my appointment approached, calls and emails came in waves and I gave serious thought about rescheduling the appointment. Knowing me, however, I felt it was now or never so I drove to the medical center at my prescribed time and as I turned into the parking lot, I took one more call from a co-worker. We discussed an issue that seemed important at the time for a few minutes. Finally I had to apologize, telling him I had to go because I had a doctor's appointment. My stomach was knotting up for some reason and I just wanted to get inside and get the appointment over with so I could get on with my life.
The mammogram started off routinely. I was sent to a little waiting room, given a gown to change into, and a hospital bag in which to put the clothes I was instructed to take off. One woman sat in the waiting room ahead of me, her name called shortly after I sat down and a short time later, she returned, looking no worse for wear. A few minutes later, it was my name was called.
I stood in front of the machine, following the technician's instructions as she adjusted the machine. She would then go to another room take the pictures, come back and do the same thing, but other breast. After which, I was told I could leave. I think I made it back to the little waiting room when the technician came back telling me that they wanted to take a few more pictures.
This time the machine was merciless, pressing hard against my breast until I thought they would surely pop like a balloon. Another technician appeared and through the glass window, I could see the two of them talking, then one would come out, make an adjustment and go back for another picture, each adjustment grew more excruciating and by the time they were finished, I was unable to hold back my tears. The technician was kind, talking to me in a gentle, soothing voice, apologizing each time for the pain she knew she was about to inflict.
As I walked back to the waiting room for a second time, I was told to change back to my clothes, but to wait for final instructions. I gingerly put my bra and top on, my wounded body already aching. I was shivering with fear as I obediently sat on a chair, waiting for the unknown. The technician came out and kindly, but in a no-nonsense voice, told me that there was concern and I needed to go to another facility for an ultra-sound…now.
I walked numbly to my car and drove to the other facility, on top of my fear, I was hungry, having worked through lunch. Less than an hour after leaving one medical center, I was at another, waiting to check into the radiology department. This waiting room was filled with patients. Time crawled. Fear and hunger alternately took turns taunting me. My cellphone would ring in steady intervals, my dear sister calling to find out how my doctor appointment went. I didn't answer for fear of crying. I didn't know what to tell her. This would likely turn out to be nothing and I didn't want her to worry needlessly.
Finally, my name was called. I was given another gown, again with instructions to take off all my clothes waist up. This time, I went into a little dark room where I was to lay in a narrow hospital like bed. Like the mammogram technician, the ultrasound technician was kind and gentle, but my body, having already been assaulted, didn't want to take much more. As she gently pushed and prodded my breast with her little hand-held device, I flinched and stiffened throughout the process.
Finally, after I thought I could take no more, it was over. Thoughts scrambled throughout my head. I was told that I should get a call within a week with the results. I resolved that I would say nothing to my family until then. There wasn't anything anyone could do anyway. As I made my way back to the parking structure, my phone rang again. It was Eliz, again. I paused for a moment as I debated whether to take the call. My finger decided for me, pressing the answer button.
Prior to that day, I had not been to the doctor for over ten years. I had not had a cold, a flu or any other malady necessitating a trip to the doctor's. Then in late October, early November, back pain began to plagued me. At first I thought it was due to the VW bug I bought in September. A two-door car, low to the ground was causing me to twist and turn in ways I didn't need to with my RAV-4, I reasoned. It made sense, at first, to me and my family.
But then even walking became hard, my right leg dragging in a way it never had before. Still, I kept waiting for the morning that I would wake up and pop out of bed like normal. As Christmas approached, Brie began to tell me that I needed to see a doctor. After spending Christmas day at my brother's in which getting up from the couch was hard to do, I finally agreed and scheduled my appointment. I agreed to get the mammogram first since I had not had one…ever. My appointment day was set for 3:30pm, Monday, January 5, 2009.
As the hour that I would need to leave work for my appointment approached, calls and emails came in waves and I gave serious thought about rescheduling the appointment. Knowing me, however, I felt it was now or never so I drove to the medical center at my prescribed time and as I turned into the parking lot, I took one more call from a co-worker. We discussed an issue that seemed important at the time for a few minutes. Finally I had to apologize, telling him I had to go because I had a doctor's appointment. My stomach was knotting up for some reason and I just wanted to get inside and get the appointment over with so I could get on with my life.
The mammogram started off routinely. I was sent to a little waiting room, given a gown to change into, and a hospital bag in which to put the clothes I was instructed to take off. One woman sat in the waiting room ahead of me, her name called shortly after I sat down and a short time later, she returned, looking no worse for wear. A few minutes later, it was my name was called.
I stood in front of the machine, following the technician's instructions as she adjusted the machine. She would then go to another room take the pictures, come back and do the same thing, but other breast. After which, I was told I could leave. I think I made it back to the little waiting room when the technician came back telling me that they wanted to take a few more pictures.
This time the machine was merciless, pressing hard against my breast until I thought they would surely pop like a balloon. Another technician appeared and through the glass window, I could see the two of them talking, then one would come out, make an adjustment and go back for another picture, each adjustment grew more excruciating and by the time they were finished, I was unable to hold back my tears. The technician was kind, talking to me in a gentle, soothing voice, apologizing each time for the pain she knew she was about to inflict.
As I walked back to the waiting room for a second time, I was told to change back to my clothes, but to wait for final instructions. I gingerly put my bra and top on, my wounded body already aching. I was shivering with fear as I obediently sat on a chair, waiting for the unknown. The technician came out and kindly, but in a no-nonsense voice, told me that there was concern and I needed to go to another facility for an ultra-sound…now.
I walked numbly to my car and drove to the other facility, on top of my fear, I was hungry, having worked through lunch. Less than an hour after leaving one medical center, I was at another, waiting to check into the radiology department. This waiting room was filled with patients. Time crawled. Fear and hunger alternately took turns taunting me. My cellphone would ring in steady intervals, my dear sister calling to find out how my doctor appointment went. I didn't answer for fear of crying. I didn't know what to tell her. This would likely turn out to be nothing and I didn't want her to worry needlessly.
Finally, my name was called. I was given another gown, again with instructions to take off all my clothes waist up. This time, I went into a little dark room where I was to lay in a narrow hospital like bed. Like the mammogram technician, the ultrasound technician was kind and gentle, but my body, having already been assaulted, didn't want to take much more. As she gently pushed and prodded my breast with her little hand-held device, I flinched and stiffened throughout the process.
Finally, after I thought I could take no more, it was over. Thoughts scrambled throughout my head. I was told that I should get a call within a week with the results. I resolved that I would say nothing to my family until then. There wasn't anything anyone could do anyway. As I made my way back to the parking structure, my phone rang again. It was Eliz, again. I paused for a moment as I debated whether to take the call. My finger decided for me, pressing the answer button.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Remembering Christmas
This has to be one of my most favorite Christmas's in recent memory. There was the magic of children's laughter in the air, I awoke on Christmas morning with both my children in the house and the number of loved ones surrounding us grew until the house was bursting at the seams.
Christmas Eve, as usual, starts with a few family members gathered around at my grandmother's gravesite to catch up on our lives and reflect on how God is working in them. It's one of my most favorite traditions. I was happy to see my cousins there. They had lost their father exactly a year ago so they arrived early to spend some time at his gravesite with their mom before meeting us at grandma's.
Greg and his family stopped by on Christmas Eve for a few hours so we were able to spend some time with them before the festivities ratcheted up. My nephews have such personality and character. I enjoy being with them immensely.
JJ surprised me with a giant print of his gorgeous photo "Two Trees". I cried because of the reason he told me he was giving it to me and I asked him to write about the photo on the back of the frame and to sign the print.
He is so sweet and I am so blessed.
I somehow managed to bake a batch of Matthew's favorite cookies…Mexican Teacakes…as he has asked for them for several years now. He rewarded with me with that special smile he has when he's especially happy and by popping several in his mouth within moments upon his arrival. No matter his age, he still has his mommy's heart.
Matt and Ash arrived in plenty of time before the 11pm Candlelight service, my other most favorite tradition. Mom graciously offered to watch the little ones so I could attend the service with everyone.
Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without singing Silent Night in a darkened church with the glow of candlelight warming the room as the clock strikes midnight. I could give up the tree, the lights, the decorations, the presents, but I couldn't give up the candlelight service.
Shortly after 6am on Christmas morning, I awoke to the calls of Max and Rori from the bedroom across mine. Ijumped hobbled excitedly out of bed and got them from their room. The house was still quiet and dark. Too little to know it was Christmas morning, they climbed down the stairs like any other morning in which they have spent the night, but upon seeing the lights on the tree and around the fireplace, Max suddenly understood.
First he wanted to wake Aunt "Bee". We walked back up the stairs to her room and he went up to her bed and said in his sweet little three-year old voice, "Merry Christmas Aunt Bee". There was no movement, no response, nothing. He walked back towards the door where Rori and I were standing, threw his hands up in the air and said "Maybe I say Merry Christmas louder".
"Yes," I responded, laughing inside, "say it louder".
He walked back to her bed and said in a louder voice, "Merry Christmas Aunt Bee". We waited for a moment and the she silently turned over, her back towards little Max. "Say it louder", I told Max. So he did and this time, she sat up, a smile of love and excitement on her face as she opened her arms for a hug from the little guy she loves so much.
Christmas Eve, as usual, starts with a few family members gathered around at my grandmother's gravesite to catch up on our lives and reflect on how God is working in them. It's one of my most favorite traditions. I was happy to see my cousins there. They had lost their father exactly a year ago so they arrived early to spend some time at his gravesite with their mom before meeting us at grandma's.
Greg and his family stopped by on Christmas Eve for a few hours so we were able to spend some time with them before the festivities ratcheted up. My nephews have such personality and character. I enjoy being with them immensely.
JJ surprised me with a giant print of his gorgeous photo "Two Trees". I cried because of the reason he told me he was giving it to me and I asked him to write about the photo on the back of the frame and to sign the print.
He is so sweet and I am so blessed.
I somehow managed to bake a batch of Matthew's favorite cookies…Mexican Teacakes…as he has asked for them for several years now. He rewarded with me with that special smile he has when he's especially happy and by popping several in his mouth within moments upon his arrival. No matter his age, he still has his mommy's heart.
Matt and Ash arrived in plenty of time before the 11pm Candlelight service, my other most favorite tradition. Mom graciously offered to watch the little ones so I could attend the service with everyone.
Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without singing Silent Night in a darkened church with the glow of candlelight warming the room as the clock strikes midnight. I could give up the tree, the lights, the decorations, the presents, but I couldn't give up the candlelight service.
Shortly after 6am on Christmas morning, I awoke to the calls of Max and Rori from the bedroom across mine. I
First he wanted to wake Aunt "Bee". We walked back up the stairs to her room and he went up to her bed and said in his sweet little three-year old voice, "Merry Christmas Aunt Bee". There was no movement, no response, nothing. He walked back towards the door where Rori and I were standing, threw his hands up in the air and said "Maybe I say Merry Christmas louder".
"Yes," I responded, laughing inside, "say it louder".
He walked back to her bed and said in a louder voice, "Merry Christmas Aunt Bee". We waited for a moment and the she silently turned over, her back towards little Max. "Say it louder", I told Max. So he did and this time, she sat up, a smile of love and excitement on her face as she opened her arms for a hug from the little guy she loves so much.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Hello 2014
It's been chaotic the last ten days. Not every second of the day, but for parts of each day, as we've been surrounded by family since Christmas Eve.
December always seems to slip between my fingers. This December was no different. I start off with good intentions. I want to have the house decorated with something new I create, make everything comfy, cozy and pretty. This year I felt lucky to have lights on the tree and the stockings hung on the fireplace. I was able to find contentment in what I was able to do.
I had hoped to blog on the last day of December and, again, on the first day of the New Year, but instead I was out enjoying life which is a better thing to do. On New Year's Eve, I took my brother and sister-in-law to the Pie Hole, continuing my quest to take everyone I love there.
Then, on New Year's day, we found ourselves at Laguna Beach, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. I was smart enough to swallow my pride and take my walker which allowed me to walk along side of them without too much discomfort.
Although 2014 holds much uncertainty, I must say, the first three days have been keepers in my book. Then, again, anytime I wake up in a warm bed in a house full of love I should be filled with thanks.
I've been wrestling with 2014 resolutions and whether or not to select a one word. I had decided this last week to forgo the latter. After all, I didn't do a good job living by the one I selected last year. How could I? I don't even remember what it was. How pathetic is that? It made me think that I didn't want to be a bandwagoner and select one just because others are doing it. But then I read a few blogs that made me feel inspired to rethink my position and a few words began to take root in my heart. I'm giving myself until the weekend to decide what I want to do.
December always seems to slip between my fingers. This December was no different. I start off with good intentions. I want to have the house decorated with something new I create, make everything comfy, cozy and pretty. This year I felt lucky to have lights on the tree and the stockings hung on the fireplace. I was able to find contentment in what I was able to do.
I had hoped to blog on the last day of December and, again, on the first day of the New Year, but instead I was out enjoying life which is a better thing to do. On New Year's Eve, I took my brother and sister-in-law to the Pie Hole, continuing my quest to take everyone I love there.
Then, on New Year's day, we found ourselves at Laguna Beach, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. I was smart enough to swallow my pride and take my walker which allowed me to walk along side of them without too much discomfort.
Although 2014 holds much uncertainty, I must say, the first three days have been keepers in my book. Then, again, anytime I wake up in a warm bed in a house full of love I should be filled with thanks.
I've been wrestling with 2014 resolutions and whether or not to select a one word. I had decided this last week to forgo the latter. After all, I didn't do a good job living by the one I selected last year. How could I? I don't even remember what it was. How pathetic is that? It made me think that I didn't want to be a bandwagoner and select one just because others are doing it. But then I read a few blogs that made me feel inspired to rethink my position and a few words began to take root in my heart. I'm giving myself until the weekend to decide what I want to do.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
The Joy of Christmas
The week started off with some bumps. There were a few pity parties, tears and a testing of the faith that has held me together until now. Today at chemo, I was talking to Cindy, one of the nurses I've come to know on a first name basis and we were lamented on how Christmas is just a week away.
Then I realized it was less than a week away. It didn't even bother me. And when the unpleasant residue of chemo rose up within my body in the early evening, I pushed it back, reminding myself that tomorrow this will pass. Just to prove it was true, I got myself off my recliner shortly after 6pm as planned and prepared a batch of candy cane cookie dough.
It hurts to walk and there are times that I worry that the pain on my left leg is a precursor to paralysis and at the beginning of the week it was hard to let it go, something I'm usually able to do. Worry is not my middle name. Worry doesn't change things. Prayer does. But I can't deny that there are times when worry doesn't creep in, like an unwanted visitor who outstays his welcome.
Because it hurts to walk, it's easy to stay in my recliner for too long which isn't any good for me either. So after two days of worry, I decided that no matter how much it hurts, I needed to get myself off my bottom and do something with myself. Yesterday, I bought a gift, crossed a name off my list, wrapped four presents and wrote two Christmas Cards. It felt so good.
I also found that going into prayer when the pity party starts has helped a lot, that and being honest and sharing my fears with people I trust. It's hard for me to do because I don't want to worry family and friends. I believe that the enemy would have me spend almost all my waking hours in my recliner. It would be easy to do because I'm pretty comfortable in it, but it's not where I'm meant to be. Prayer has helped a lot. It helps me depend on God and gets me back on track.
Today I realized, I've found my joy again. I'm laughing and talking with Mom and Brie more. I'm smiling at strangers and finding patience at the stores where we all know we need it at this time of year.
And I'm making cookies.
Then I realized it was less than a week away. It didn't even bother me. And when the unpleasant residue of chemo rose up within my body in the early evening, I pushed it back, reminding myself that tomorrow this will pass. Just to prove it was true, I got myself off my recliner shortly after 6pm as planned and prepared a batch of candy cane cookie dough.
It hurts to walk and there are times that I worry that the pain on my left leg is a precursor to paralysis and at the beginning of the week it was hard to let it go, something I'm usually able to do. Worry is not my middle name. Worry doesn't change things. Prayer does. But I can't deny that there are times when worry doesn't creep in, like an unwanted visitor who outstays his welcome.
Because it hurts to walk, it's easy to stay in my recliner for too long which isn't any good for me either. So after two days of worry, I decided that no matter how much it hurts, I needed to get myself off my bottom and do something with myself. Yesterday, I bought a gift, crossed a name off my list, wrapped four presents and wrote two Christmas Cards. It felt so good.
I also found that going into prayer when the pity party starts has helped a lot, that and being honest and sharing my fears with people I trust. It's hard for me to do because I don't want to worry family and friends. I believe that the enemy would have me spend almost all my waking hours in my recliner. It would be easy to do because I'm pretty comfortable in it, but it's not where I'm meant to be. Prayer has helped a lot. It helps me depend on God and gets me back on track.
Today I realized, I've found my joy again. I'm laughing and talking with Mom and Brie more. I'm smiling at strangers and finding patience at the stores where we all know we need it at this time of year.
And I'm making cookies.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Focus on the Right Things
One of the things I struggle with each Christmas is the feeling that no matter what I'm doing, I should be doing something else. It's so easy to get pulled in so many different directions at this time of the year. Sunday morning was no different. I was taking stock of all that I needed wanted to do and actually considered skipping church.
I was thinking about how I could use that hour and a half and get some Christmas shopping or even baking done. Then reality hit me. How could I, in good conscious, do that? Never mind that it was 9am and I had been up since 6am without much to show for it. I hightailed it into the shower and got myself ready in time for church.
One of the things that Rick Warren recommended for making time was to focus on one thing at time. When I was considering forgoing church that morning, my mind was racing, thinking about all the things Ineeded wanted to do. The reality was, there was no way I was going to accomplish all those things in one day. Equally important, there was no reason I needed to accomplish all those things on Sunday either.
Mapping out the next ten days, I realized I had more than enough time to get everything done without becoming overloaded, as long as I remained focus and devised a plan. It's not just focusing on one thing, but it's handling interruptions without being distracted from primary goals. Understanding that helps us to put our focus on the right things, everything else becomes secondary, optional.
Instead of running around like a crazy person, I was able to attend church, enjoy the service and not worry about the things I should be doing. I was where I was supposed to be and it felt so good. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
I was thinking about how I could use that hour and a half and get some Christmas shopping or even baking done. Then reality hit me. How could I, in good conscious, do that? Never mind that it was 9am and I had been up since 6am without much to show for it. I hightailed it into the shower and got myself ready in time for church.
One of the things that Rick Warren recommended for making time was to focus on one thing at time. When I was considering forgoing church that morning, my mind was racing, thinking about all the things I
Mapping out the next ten days, I realized I had more than enough time to get everything done without becoming overloaded, as long as I remained focus and devised a plan. It's not just focusing on one thing, but it's handling interruptions without being distracted from primary goals. Understanding that helps us to put our focus on the right things, everything else becomes secondary, optional.
Instead of running around like a crazy person, I was able to attend church, enjoy the service and not worry about the things I should be doing. I was where I was supposed to be and it felt so good. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
Friday, December 13, 2013
The Trappings of Christmas
It's been a week of ups and downs, downs and ups. How can it be that Christmas could evoke any emotion but joy? I blame it all on us humans. God didn't ask us to turn Christmas into a tree buying, light hanging, gift giving, stressful event, but we did.
Yet, here I sit, the smell of pine wafting through the air, the glow of lights on the tree and the fireplace warming my heart and my Christmas mug, pleasing to my sight. I can't deny that I enjoy some of the trappings of the "holiday". Most important to me, though is remembering what it's all about and as a Christian, it is about the birth of Christ.
I was reading in one of my devotional's this morning about the need to create margin in our lives. Most of us don't have time to be still and hear the voice of God. This is especially true at Christmas time, which just causes more stress. How true is that? The truth is, just thinking about the decorating, shopping and baking, or lack thereof, was causing most of my downs. Once I let go of all of that, I could enjoy things again. And somehow, things are still coming together.
In my devotional, there were seven pieces of advice that Rick Warren had on how to keep the stress and demands from overwhelming us. These were things he observed that Jesus did in his life. I thought I would share them here for the next week because just reading them this morning, gave me a sense of peace.
The one that touched me the most this morning was set clear goals. I am a great procrastinator to the point where sometimes I'm actually joke about how good I am at it. But the truth is, it adds to stress. As Rick Warren so aptly put it, "Preparation prevents pressure, but procrastination produces it". Wow! Did that ever make me want to be sure to get all my ducks in a row from now on.
I was reminded of the day a few years ago that I went to my brother and sister-in-law's early for their annual Christmas party. I was going to set up a photo booth for the party so I got there a little over an hour before the scheduled start time expecting to see the family rushing around with last minute to-dos. Instead, they were all in the family room kicking back and relaxing. It was refreshing and stress-free.
Obviously, there was a lot of planning and preparation that went into their party and by not procrastinating they were able to head into the event, relaxed and ready to enjoy their company. If we come to realize that even with preparation, something can't be done, perhaps that means we need to cut it from our list.
Yet, here I sit, the smell of pine wafting through the air, the glow of lights on the tree and the fireplace warming my heart and my Christmas mug, pleasing to my sight. I can't deny that I enjoy some of the trappings of the "holiday". Most important to me, though is remembering what it's all about and as a Christian, it is about the birth of Christ.
I was reading in one of my devotional's this morning about the need to create margin in our lives. Most of us don't have time to be still and hear the voice of God. This is especially true at Christmas time, which just causes more stress. How true is that? The truth is, just thinking about the decorating, shopping and baking, or lack thereof, was causing most of my downs. Once I let go of all of that, I could enjoy things again. And somehow, things are still coming together.
In my devotional, there were seven pieces of advice that Rick Warren had on how to keep the stress and demands from overwhelming us. These were things he observed that Jesus did in his life. I thought I would share them here for the next week because just reading them this morning, gave me a sense of peace.
The one that touched me the most this morning was set clear goals. I am a great procrastinator to the point where sometimes I'm actually joke about how good I am at it. But the truth is, it adds to stress. As Rick Warren so aptly put it, "Preparation prevents pressure, but procrastination produces it". Wow! Did that ever make me want to be sure to get all my ducks in a row from now on.
I was reminded of the day a few years ago that I went to my brother and sister-in-law's early for their annual Christmas party. I was going to set up a photo booth for the party so I got there a little over an hour before the scheduled start time expecting to see the family rushing around with last minute to-dos. Instead, they were all in the family room kicking back and relaxing. It was refreshing and stress-free.
Obviously, there was a lot of planning and preparation that went into their party and by not procrastinating they were able to head into the event, relaxed and ready to enjoy their company. If we come to realize that even with preparation, something can't be done, perhaps that means we need to cut it from our list.
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