Cancer Girl

Batman lurks somberly high above the dark city, perched on a skyscraper sill, brooding. Alone. Isolated. Superhero.

I know a little of how he feels. When my diagnosis first descended into our lives, I made an announcement at my prayer support group, “It’s not like I’m Cancer Girl. I’m still me.” Declared this to my friends of many years. Why?

Because when you have a mortal illness, suddenly you live in a different world. A separated feeling descends. Lonely and different. Folks are kind and loving, and unsure. We all don’t make it out alive, but we painfully avoid conversations about death, loss, and suffering. Our preference is to enjoy the numb bliss of living as though there is no termination. Perhaps that is because we were made to live forever. Death entered the world way back in the early days of Papa Adam and Granny Eve. When sin discolored our new world, so did illness and death. Our natural enemies.

I have discovered the shadow of death always clouding a corner of even my brightest moments. I’ll tell Rick, “Hey, I’m not dead yet. Let’s enjoy this great day.” To which he replies, “Yes, but I have a nail in my foot.” It’s hard to enjoy even Disneyland, when you are on tiptoe to avoid scraping that nail…future and present loss. In some ways, I have felt that Cancer Girl is already dead. So what to do?

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Living with cancer.” It’s a life path of balancing Miralax, rest, social opportunities, and doctor visits. It’s the absence of old routines of work and training and relationships. A new normal.

It’s a blessing and a curse. I prefer to focus on the blessing, while living with the reality of the curse. Thankfully, that’s not all there is to our stories. Scripture tells us that, “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” (1 Cor. 15:26) So even in the middle of looming darkness, Jesus’ redemption and resurrection cast a glistening mist. There is hope in the middle of the Valley of the Shadow, including the joy of eternity with Him. As we accept His redemption, we are released from the curse and can live in joy and blessing.

Blessings. Overwhelming love and support, even in moments, comments, hugs, gifts, cards, soup and bread. Family moving in close to walk the path with me, spending more time and love in the midst of their full schedules. The sweet prayers of those I know, and those I don’t. The slower pace of life. Time to sew, organize, breathe, heal, commune. A voice that folks listen to, because I speak from the edge of a dark skyscraper.

Scripture guides this new Cancer Girl character. Romans 8 speaks strong words of God’s perspective. Famous verse 28, “ And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Even in illness and weakness, God’s amazing miracle of revealing treasure prevails.

I have seen this. Such great conversations of encouragement, for me and others. Salvation. Opportunities to support my fellow superheroes at the cancer clinic. Tenderized hearts sharing deeply in my circles. Time to love people more. A greater connection with my spiritual health, eclipsing the focus on the body. Learning to build healthy boundaries and take care of myself. Deeper appreciation for the wonders of my days. Perspective on priorities.

When Spiderman was bitten by an arachnid, it seemed a calamity, but he learned to use his new identity for the good of others, mightily embracing the super-normal. Cancer Girl has a life of her own, and if I open my heart to this new experience, it is a powerful place of blessing and change for me and for those I love. All of you.

As long as I travel this road, I will embrace this role, this plague and this privilege.

Celebrating Pump Freedom Day at Compass Clinic.

Everyday Joys

 

Richard arrived home yesterday to a “to-do” list for his Mom. He warmed up his whistle as he loaded buckets with wood, and crescendoed while he toted my pail of kitty diggings down to the swamp for disposal. There’s nothing sweeter than his song as he strolls the property getting things done. In his tune, I hear the pleasant contentment of my whistling father, the source of our musical genes. He also knew that a joyful heart lightens the load. How I love to hear it. This is only one of endless moments in my day-to-day that reminds me to breathe in the delights of my life.

I live a life of common blessings, in spite of the troubles. There is nothing like difficulty to call me to be thankful for the normal bliss of each day. Now, every dark dawn that wakens me, my eyes open with a prayer of thanks for one more sweet set of 24 to love my family, to make coffee, to pet my silly kitty, to hug my last two at-home kids.

There is great pleasure and peace to be found in enjoying the mundane, the repeated, the ordinary. In our rushed lives, there really is not ordinary. Each new day is a miracle waiting to happen, joys to nourish us, sorrows to teach us. Endless delights and comforts.

Some of my joys used to be interruptions to….not sure what. Now I relish folding the warm laundry and being able to hike it up the stairs. For a little while there, I labored to just climb to the second floor. Right now, I can fly up that hill many times a day and enjoy the pleasure of “tidying up.”

I’ve been washing baby blankets. Dusty mementos of a wonderful season of being Mommy to five of the best creations on the planet. Those days were full of routine and care. How I treasure memories of a pile of kids on the sofa, me reading a good book aloud. NOISE around the big dinner table. Laughs and lectures. Plenty of food, often our favorite, beans and rice. There was always salsa and a pinch of cheese to make it a feast.

I prayed I would live to raise my beautiful children and see them launched into their own wondrous, hard, routine, blessed lives. This prayer has been answered, and I am so grateful.

Everyday, my life is filled with these sacred moments.  The sunrise over Mt. Hood in the morning. Words of encouragement with a friend, goodies included. Washing the dishes from a big meal, again, and again, and again. Grocery shopping filled with surprises. Sweeping the windy porch, adding some festive holiday flavor with sprigs of holly picked from our “swamp.” Placing ivory candles on the family table. Hiking to retrieve cards from the mailbox. Carrying the trashcan to the road with my son, full of the evidence of our wealth. Gazing at the beautiful home my artist husband built to shelter his crew. Prayer while I brush my teeth, all there. Cozy pillow and homemade quilts for a snug, peaceful rest at night.

A favorite verse, “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.” James 1:17. Let my heart be thankful each day, enjoying the wonders God gives us, both to enjoy, and to share with those who are broken. Keep my eyes clear to see the blessings of the everyday, little and not-so-little miracles, on this lovely road we call life.

May my words be strong and sincere, “Blessed be the Lord, Who daily loads us with benefits, The God of our salvation!” Psalm 68:19.

Another great explore with my Rick. Here at Ft. Simcoe. Life with him is full of great adventures.