I've been to the spiritual taxidermist!

Okay - before I go any further, I need to make sure that I give credit for that analogy to my current pastor David Trawick. When he preached on this on Sunday, at first I had the "deer in the headlights" look (no pun intended). But then, my eyes were opened to the concept. And maybe more so because it was as if he were speaking about me.

I have spent so much time praising God for all the good in our lives - the big and the small. Answered prayer for Steve's healing and close parking spots on a harried day. And I would actively engage God when all seemed lost. And I was struggling to keep my head about water... But I never lost sight of God and His place in my life. It seems the extremes can bring out the best in a Christian. God wants us to come to Him, to cling to Him. The first person that many music artists give credit to on an album or upon receiving an award is God (whether they are a person of faith or not - I guess it's their way of being PC enough to get record sales). And on the opposite side of that joy, most of us run to God when we are scared and hurting. Even those that have had little to do with God or little acknowledgement of His power will find themselves, even briefly asking God for help. Why? There has to be something inside that says just maybe He is who He says He is. If not, they would be crying out to Barack Obama or George Bush or Oprah or Martha Stewart or Billy Graham in prayer. In the dark of their bedroom. On their knees. Okay, how many of you have, in your darkness hour, have fallen to your knees, wept uncontrollably and cried out, "Oh Oprah! Help me! I don't know where to turn! I'm scared!"

So why have I been to the spiritual taxidermist? Because in all the scariness of the cancer, I was on my knees before God. And in all the joys of healing I have danced before God. But in the mundane I am still trying to do it all myself. Inside I am not allowing God to do His work. We are possibly nearing the end of Steve's military career and some choices are going to be made. Instead of praying God's Will in all of this (and you would think that after all that has happened to get us where we are right now, praying God's Will would be a no brainer), I am trying to make the decisions for the rest of our lives. I am ready to "plant flowers and paint walls" (that's my way of saying retirement). But I am not allowing God to work in this equation, knowing full well that any "flowers" He plants are going to be bigger and brighter and more beautiful than any thing I could ever hope to plant. And any "walls" He paints are going to be more spectacularly done and with more ease than I could ever hope for. But yet, there I am doing the work of worrying and manipulating, trying to work it all out the way I want. A while back, I hurt someone and in turn it hurt me terribly. I went to God immediately. And I went again and again - for weeks. Just when I would think that I had completely given to God and He forgave me for my actions, I would pull it back and stare at it and cry all over again. I am still doing it. Even today I have cried over it. And that is keeping me from being the person God would have me to be.

I have a necklace that has become as priceless as any rare jewel to me. It was given to me 2 days before Steve's surgery. It says "Let Go! Let God." It is priceless for a several reasons: 1. The giver took time out her extremely busy schedule to select (not grab off a rack) but carefully select this gift for me. I say that because the store she purchased it in is not a "grab & go" gift/jewelry store. 2. When the purchasing and giving could have been a short and sweet sentiment, she added yet another wonderful God moment - she took it to our pastor to have it prayed over before giving it to me. And it stayed around my neck 24/7 until we got the pathology report back. It was like a 24 hour hug. Oh, I still wear it! Just not 24/7 3. The giver's family has become a real blessing to our family - a ray of sunshine in our time in San Antonio. And 4. The message: Let Go! Let God. That is so very hard. To show my "spiritual taxidermist" side I say that I am "meditating" on it. But in all reality I am holding on to it. Not "Letting go and letting God." It's my crisis or my hurt or my problem! If I let go then I am not taking responsibility for any of it. Holding on shows that I am taking ownership of it. To let it go means I don't care. With all the "letting go" and "holding on" I have done lately, I should have awesome upper body strength and toned triceps. Uh, not so much.

On the outside, I "look" like a Christian. I dress like a Christian. I listen to Christian music. I read books like a Christian (my bible, Beth Moore and many Guidepost Series). But on the inside I am just a mold or a form to hold up the outside. Whether its plastic, stuffing or marshmallow fluff , I am (at times) filled with stuff that just holds my outsides together. And on that day that we stand before the Lord, we will shed our "outsides" and only our insides will be on display for all to see. Not sure I am up for that yet. I am certainly a work in progress...


Peace to all who read...

My cousins are great role models!!!

I look back over so many of my posts and I see "whining" written all over them. And if I knew I was whining early enough, I posted a "whining alert!" Whining is somewhat scriptural, isn't? Isn't that a little of what Lamentations is? In fact, in the LRE (Lonnie Revised Edition) there is actually an Ecclesiastes 3:8a: "...a time to whine and a time to get over it." For me whining is a way of crying out to God. He wants us to cry out. But He also (I think) wants us to get it out of our system and move on. He might have given us the gift of whining but He does NOT cater Pity Parties.

Okay, so what does the title have to do with whining? I have a cousin (and her hubby) that are currently on a path that they did not foresee. But their mindsets and attitudes amaze me! My cousin's husband lost his job. And if they had not shared that information you would never know. They live a life of gratitude. I know they are not perfect, and I am sure if you asked them, they would point out many of their flawed attempts at gratitude. But to see their facebook posts and to read their encouraging e-mails to us, you would never know. To hear that in his free time he is spending more time at the church and taking care of their son. Going on field trips and volunteering. Doesn't sound like whining or "woe is me" to me... This is so much like Beth Moore's "Okay what next?" moment, that I mentioned in my last post. God says, "You lost your job, what next? Okay, you made some very sound financial decisions to prepare for the coming months, what next? You are spending more of your free time serving Me and your family, what next? You have had a burden of unhappiness taken off your shoulders, what next?" I think that is why God had everything move so quickly for us. If had had time to really sit and think about all that was happening, I could have written my own book of Lamentations.

There are so many things about my life that I wish were different, but dwelling on them doesn't make it better. And I don't think that "wishing things were different" is inherently wrong, because you would not be moved to change if you were completely happy and satisfied in an unhealthy environment. But God wants me to be thankful IN all things not FOR all things.

I was NOT thankful FOR the cancer, but I AM thankful for friends IN the midst of it all.

I am NOT thankful FOR church politics (nothing in particular about any specific church), but I AM thankful to be IN a wonderful healing Sunday School class and past small group.

I am NOT thankful for the crime that takes place all around in San Antonio, but I AM thankful to be IN a wonderful neighborhood with such caring neighbors.

I am NOT thankful FOR the pulling up of roots every time this military family moves, but I AM thankful to be IN the military because of all the friends (who are now family) that we would not have in our lives otherwise.

I am NOT thankful FOR the buckets of $$ to fix our washer (could have bought new- but this whole cancer thing was front and center at the time and we needed a washer immediately), but I AM thankful that we had the money IN the bank to take care of it.

I was NOT thankful FOR the stress that is brought on by a family emergency and having more people under roof than usual, but I was thankful IN the commissary that I was able to go and be with my friends (my coupons and bargains), recharge my battery and lovingly take care of my wonderful extended family.

I am NOT thankful FOR having to watch every dime we spend, but I am thankful for being IN tune to all of our finances thereby allowing me to stay at home and spend more time with my family.

I am NOT thankful FOR being so far away from my family, but I AM thankful for being IN the most wonderful family that makes me want to be there for every little event (all your facebook posts make me miss you even more!)

My goal? To look at every negative and find the positive. You can't have one without the other...


Peace (and gratitude) to all who read...

Why???

Above is the picture of a miracle. This is Steve leading his graduating flights in the weekly Airman's Run. This was April 30th - one day shy of 7 weeks away from his cancer surgery. I don't think I have been more proud of him, than I was at that moment. And then to have other commanders and staff run by and shout with a big grin, "He's running with us!" I must admit that eyes were sweating a little during that...must have been then heat. :-)

I don't want to beat the "miracle" aspect of this into the ground, but I am reminded daily that the outcomes are not always as happy as ours is right now. And I do know that our outcome can change any time. God is in control.

Today was one of those days when I was reminded of how cancer can devastate. When all this began with us, a CMSgt and his wife took it upon themselves to make sure that our meal needs at the house were taken care of while Steve was hospitalized. Our situation became very personal to them - the Chief had also been diagnosed with the very same cancer that Steve has/had. His prognosis was not as good, but currently God is choosing a path of healing for him. They had volunteers from all over. One of the volunteers was a MSgt & his wife who had been touched by cancer as well - the wife had been diagnosed a while back but was recovering. Well, the MSgt stopped by Steve's office today because he knew that Steve would want to know - her cancer was back and it was in her liver. There is nothing they can do. On Friday they have another appointment, hopefully they will get some sort of time line.

Why? Why does God heal some and not others? Will God stop Steve's cancer from coming back? If not, why? If so, why doesn't He do that for others? Why does there have to be cancer anyway? None of these questions really need answers. I recently read somewhere that many of the diseases and illnesses we suffer from are not created by God, but are the result of us taking His perfect world (Garden of Eden) and making it imperfect. And those imperfections are unhealthy and there for we are paying the price. Why can't He just wave His hand and make it all better? Cancer is never pleasant. Even in the smallest cancers and easiest of recoveries there are tears and pain. Steve's cancer was as brief as it could be - but we were still terrified. He still hurt tremendously after surgery. And we will still look over our shoulder for the rest of our lives. so, for this family on base that is beginning a very painful process, I pray for peace. For comfort. Does knowing you have a limited time left on earth make the pain less because you know the end is in sight? Or does it seem more intense because it is all you know and it's the final hurdle you have before ultimate healing? When Steve called to tell me about this family, I stopped and prayed for peace. But I also prayed for comfort, for them to be able to spend these last weeks or months together in the most comfortable way possible without the help of pharmaceuticals to cloud their memories.

I am still trying to get back into the swing of things. I think Steve has had an easier time transitioning than I have. Today, I tackled the office. There were stacks and stacks of papers that have need to be filed for the last 2 months. Well, I finally sat down and started through it. And again I was reminded of where we have been. I found the referral to pulmanology when all this got started. I found pre-op paperwork. I found post-op paperwork. And I found the card for 2 North Surgical Intensive Care Unit. It has the numbers I called at night when I got home from the hospital to let Steve's nurse know that I had gotten home safely. And the number I called 1st thing in the morning to find out how his night went (since his night nurse would be gone by the time I got there in the morning). It was wrinkled from being pressed in my sweaty palms for days. It was my connection to Steve when I could not be by his side during the worst of it.

I am thankful for these moments. I don't want to ever forget where we were. Or who got us through it. During one of the later sessions of Beth Moore's Esther study, she talked about being in place where she felt like it was a bad as it could get. She cried out to God and He said to her, "Okay, so then what...?" Meaning - say the worst possible scenario comes true...then what? She talked about how she would slowly put her life back together and God kept saying to her,"Okay, then what?" Never once did she mention God not being a part of her life. Never once did she mention that life would end for her (although it might feel like it). She would take small steps and God would be with her. Many of the questions that were asked during this study asked things that had you focus on "the worst possible scenario." And of course my worst possible scenario is life without Steve. Now, it's important to note here that I purposely did not see Life without God a possible answer here. Not that my faith is that amazing or anything, but I can honestly say that I never questioned God presence or lack of presence during all of this. I cried out to him from the very beginning. I got angry with Him. But I never doubted His love for me. I just thought He has a strange way of showing it. But God showed up in the most unlikely of ways and the most unusual places (see my God sightings if you question any of this) immediately! Please don't misunderstand - if the cancer comes back and God does not intervene in some earthly way (healing him again or allowing the second coming), I will be devastated! I will be angry. But when I am done, God will still be there. Ready to help me pick up the pieces and continue the life that He has planned for me. I am not planing my husband's funeral here... just the opposite. I can't imagine life with out him! But it is so easy to give God the praise and the glory when we receive healing. And it is so easy to go to God on behalf of others when you feel like your had your prayers answered and theirs are not. Our God is a great and wonderful God. And He does not want to see His children suffer. And knowing that gives me some peace because our family had their prayers answered the way we wanted them. I pray now that I am able to come before God with an attitude of gratitude. And that I am able to pray for others who suffer. That my prayers for them not be "thankful for our situation" but focused entirely on their situation and their suffering. Prayers for the same mercy He showed us.

I'm still tired. Don't know when that will change. I think maybe I'm just ready to retire. Another situation that is beyond my control... healing, Steve's military career... Will somebody wake me up when it's time to move??? :-)

Peace to all who read...

Okay, what now?

This last 8 weeks seem like some kind of weird dream (and at times a nightmare). But when I look at Steve, I wonder, "What just happened?" Does he/did he really have cancer? I look at out lives right now, in this very moment and it seems like everything is like it was back in...let's say...October, I guess. None of this was even close to being on the radar. We happily motored along, doing what was expected of us: Kids went to school, I did my stay-at-home mom things and Steve commanded a squadron. To look at us right now, you would once again see just that. And in fact, there are some folks that still don't know. Not because we kept it a secret, but because we told as many as we could, but moved on to the recovery portion as soon as we could. I will mention the cancer in passing (thinking that they know) and I will get the oddest looks. I then realize and say something like, "Oh, didn't you know that Steve briefly had cancer?" And then I get even odder looks. I love it!

But what now? As scared as I was for so long, I never felt closer to God than I did during all of that. I felt His presence in EVERYTHING! And I know He is still in EVERYTHING for me, but I just don't see it as well now. You know how the moon is always out. And if you look really hard in the morning sky, you might be able to see it? Just a small white circle or crescent that is barely visible in the day light. But at night...wow! In the dark, the moon lights up the whole sky! And if you really want a good view of all the Heavenlies, you drive out away from town, away from all the city lights so that everything in the night sky becomes clearer? That's where I am right now. When it was the darkest it could possibly be, God lit up my world! You couldn't miss Him. But now that my world is not so dark, He seems to be harder and harder to see with the naked eye. But that is not His problem, it's mine. I am not looking hard enough right now. At the bottom of my "cancer hole" that only way to look was up. I couldn't miss Him. But now that I am back on flat ground, there are so many things around me to take my eyes off Him . So many different directions. So many things that are begging for my attention. I never want to be in that hole again, but I also don't want to lose that blessed tunnel vision I required to get out of that hole.

Steve is doing fabulous. Hopefully he will run with the soon-to-be graduating Airman this week. He has done some exercising in the last few weeks, but running has hurt a little, so he has not pushed himself as much as he could in that area. We don't go back to the doc again until June. He will have a base-line CT scan around the 13th of June and then we will see the doc sometime just after that. He will be followed every 3 months for the first 2-3 years and then every 6 months until he hits the 5 year mark. Then every year. Wow...did all this really happen? Steve got the opportunity to write a letter to someone going through the same thing. Our SS teacher is a part of a Christian fellowship that gathers and prays at work. Well, one of the worker's non-smoking mother-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer. Chris asked Steve if he could write her a note of encouragement. And he did - last night. What started out as a card became a several page letter. How can you some up what you went through in just a few words on the inside of a Get Well card? You can't, not really.

I think this week everything starts new. Steve is back at work. Fiesta is behind us. And my wonderful wonderful Esther Bible study draws to close. What happens next is up to me. God is not moving away. He will be right where He has always been. Do I make Him my life preserver and have Him snugly strapped to me all the time? Or do I wait to fall out of the boat and reach for Him to keep from drowning? The choice is up to me.

Peace (and tunnel vision) to all who read...

Picture of health!

Here are a few pictures of hubby! Since I can't seem to figure out how to label them individually, I will just tell you about each of them here:

1. 1 week and 1 day post-op: Pinewood Derby, his goal to getting out of the hospital.

2. Less than 2 weeks post-op: NCO Academy Graduation Dinner - one of his MTIs was graduating and he took it easy all day to make sure that he could be there!

3. About 5 weeks post-op: 2nd day back at work - He looks great!

The longer you wait, the harder it is to post...

Sorry for the sabbatical. Not my intent. But my "creature of extreme habit" personality got the best of me. I LOVE routine! And about 6-7 weeks ago my days went something like this: Get up around 5:30am, read the paper & have my coffee, start waking up kids at 6, have everyone gone by 8 and have the house to myself. I then would spend about an hour with God doing a number of things: praying, reading scripture, doing my bible study or blogging. And yes, blogging is a form of prayer and conversation with God for me. But all of that can only happen when I am alone. I am not able to whip out my bible study or bible and in the middle of a crowd. Having full length conversations with God at a Burger King, just ain't happening. No embarrassment or anything like that. And I am not shy about my faith, but my time alone with God is very private - I don't like to do it in front of anyone. I don't like to discuss things of a Spiritual nature as they are happening (usually) because my mind takes time to process this stuff. I am a slow learner. And I don't want anyone else's ideas or thoughts (at that time) to influence what I think God is telling ME. And I am oh so easily influenced. Now, give me some time to sit and think, and I can chat all day about what God is doing in my life. That's why I love to blog (when I do it :-) ). Most of you have no idea how long it takes me to write an entry. Two paragraphs can take over an hour some times, because I stop, read what I wrote, read it again, think about it, ask God if I'm an idiot and then erase the whole thing and start over. And some days, I just type away as God is talking to me. Right now, I am at about 45 minutes for this little dissertation... all that to say:

Steve started back to work yesterday! My routine is back! And I am loving it. Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE to have Steve home all the time. I would just have to revamp my routine, but I would love it. It feels so good to have my time alone with God again.

Steve is doing fantastic! To look at him, you would never think that he recently had a large portion of his lung removed. Okay, it was only a 1/3 of his lung, but I think ANY removal of any part of a major organ is large.

Well, I am cutting this short today as I am headed out to a Holocaust Remembrance Luncheon at the base. Steve's Group Commander is the speaker. He (I think) has his doctorate in German history - should be VERY interesting!

Peace to all who read...

Our first follow up and more God sightings!

Yesterday we had our first follow with the surgeon. He was very pleased with Steve's progress and told him that he was allowed to do as much cardio as he could handle - but he was still restricted in the lifting department and still no driving. The muscles that were cut to remove the diseased portion of his lung take quite a while to heal. The doc let us look at the chest x-ray they took yesterday and he compared it to the chest x-ray the day before surgery. The remaining portions of his lung are already growing and filling the void left by the surgery. We go back to the surgeon in 2 weeks. Then begins the forever regimen - Every 3 months for the first 2 years, every 6 months for the next 3 and then once every year... And on Thursday we have our first (and maybe our only) visit with the oncologist. The typical course of treatment for the stage of Steve's cancer is surgery and nothing else. Although Steve has said that if they give him the option, he will take the chemo as a preventative measure. We got a copy of the path report that explains why chemo may not be an option - the mass was only 2.1 centimeters instead of the original measurement of over 3! They really could not have caught this any earlier! It was such a positive visit.
I wish everyone to this hospital could have a positive visit. Our time of uncertainty and fear may be coming to an end, but for so many of the young men and women we see at BAMC (Brooke Army Medical Center), theirs just continues. As we are celebrating a great report, many of these young people are hoping that they can ease back into society with prosthetic limbs, skin grafts that cover most of their bodies and mental anguish that may never go away. And yet some, with prosthetics are trying to figure out how to get back to the desert to do what they were trained to do. It makes this whole cancer thing feel very trivial. Sure puts things in perspective for me...
I mentioned more "God sightings..." God looks like a mother/mother-in-law that showed up the day after we scheduled surgery and took care of her grandchildren like nobody's business. God looks like a brother/brother-in-law that showed up a week ago and has fixed EVERY broken thing in our house and done more yard work than we have done since we have been here. He was also joined by above mentioned mother in replanting and repairing all of our flower beds! The neighbors have been by to complain that we were making their yards look bad. And God also looks like those same neighbors that rang our doorbell yesterday evening to tell us that the 20 or so bags of yard waste would not be picked up by the trash collector. So they began to rally all the surrounding neighbors and their trash cans and began filling them up with our yard waste. How cool it was to see them walking door to door and calling those they had numbers for to enlist their help. God looked down on Bent Willow yesterday evening and smiled.
And God looks like the families of the other Squadron Commander's that have been bringing us meals. I never realized how much we needed that. The physical part of Steve's recovery has been going smoothly and rapidly, but the mental recovery (for both of us) is just beginning. My head is still spinning with all that has happened that I have not had the energy or the desire to get into my kitchen. And usually cooking is very therapeutic for me. I miss it, but my heart is not there right now. Another commander's spouse called me while I was at the commissary (I had to take Steve to work for a few hours - don't ask, just another reason we have not mentally begun to repair). I told her that being at the commissary, alone and with my coupons was wonderful. It was the first "normal" thing I have done in over 3 weeks. Every meal/event/car ride has had some connection to the surgery and the cancer. EVERY thing. So to be in the commissary with my beloved coupons and figuring out the bargains felt so good. That's really sad isn't it. I will never take the mundane for granted again.
I think the chaos and the mundane work together in God's perfect plan. We need those moments of tightly clinging to the Lord for protection. It is only then in the mundane that it feels so good to let go, spread our arms wide and soak up His goodness. I am reminded of the old Nestea commercials. The ones where folks gulp down a glass of tea and fall back into the water. I think that is what God needs from me right now. To take big gulps and drink Him in and then be so relaxed and at peace that I just free fall back into His arms KNOWING that He will catch me.

Peace (and Spiritual Nestea moments) to all who read...