Stretching...It's Not Always Easy

Just recently, two separate people have asked me to share some of my testimony…out loud. As in, speaking—in front of real, live people. Did anyone else just get chill bumps other than me as they read this? I mean, the scary bumps that grow leg hair.

Let me share with you one of my deep, dark secrets. I don’t enjoy speaking in crowds. In fact, I forget to breathe normally—my skin turns freakish shades of splotchy pink—my nose runs incessantly and my eyes water because I forget to blink. Am I painting a clear picture here? Surely some of you know what I’m talking about. So when approached by my two friends to share, certainly you can understand my inner-response, Are you nuts? as reasonable.

Now let me back up a moment by stating (because they are probably reading this), it was only a temporary thought and I don’t think either of them is truly nuts. I was actually humbled by their sincere request as they asked me to pray about it. I think my initial prayer went something like, “Lord, you know my fears. Surely you don’t want this of me. I’ve already written out my testimony like You asked…what more is there to do? Plus, I can’t even speak clearly!” (Does that sound like some famous bible character you’ve read about, or what?) Once again, I realized it was pointless to wrestle with the Master. After a brief sigh, I replied, “Okay God…how many times am I going to have to be reminded? It’s not about me. It’s about sharing how a right relationship with You is most important. I get it—again.” And I surrendered.

I shouldn’t be surprised that while God continues to guide me through this incredible journey, He also stretches me out of my comfort zone. Most of the time, it’s during the stretching process that I grow the most. It isn’t always easy, but it has great rewards: An intimate relationship with my heavenly Father as He keeps me primed and able for the journey.

I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them. Isaiah 42:16

What's Next?

Lately, I’ve been praying about my journey. God has graciously carried me through much turmoil the last year and a half: Skin cancer on my tongue, surgery, and then six months later a reoccurrence in my lymph nodes with chemotherapy and radiation following. It hasn’t been pretty. And now I have to wonder, what’s next?

I’ve tried not to question God. But if I have to be honest, throughout this journey I did have a couple of heart-to-heart “Seriously God? What’s the point?” moments. At first I didn’t get it. But what I am learning, and often reminded is, that God is God…always was, always will be. And for some reason, I was chosen to experience cancer and share of God’s faithfulness with as many people that will listen (or read).

I love this promise in James 5:16 – “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” I’m not talking about healing for me—yes, that would be great. I would be more than thrilled to receive a divine healing from God. But more importantly, I’m talking about the effective prayer of a righteous person—a “right with God” person!

You see, this journey is not about me. And it’s not about life’s circumstances. It’s not even about cancer. God has specifically revealed to me that it’s all about the relationship; a right relationship with a living God who adores us. I challenge you to trust this truth in every situation of life: Your spouse, children, health, job…you name it. If your relationship with God is top priority, then He will enable you, through His power, to contend with everything else. “Seek first the kingdom of God AND His righteousness…”  Our time here on earth is but a breath—and if we have an active personal relationship with Jesus Christ, God’s Son, then we can be certain that our last breath on this earth will begin eternity—with Him! (Whew! I didn’t mean to preach, but I guess God wanted me to write that.)

So as for me, I’m still praying about “what’s next” on this journey. I want each step I take to be in the shadow of my Lord, and every word I say (or write) be an echo from the Throne Room. This can only happen through a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Have you accepted His free gift of eternal life—a personal saving relationship with THE personal saving God? I hope so, because you know…it’s all about the relationship.

Freedom!

Free, free, I’m free at last! Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last!

I am speaking of my feed tube that was removed last Thursday. I can’t tell you how thankful I am to have that all behind me. I’ve been eating normally for about 3 weeks now, and doing quite well. I have lost some additional weight, but am working very hard at eating and staying healthy. Without normal functioning taste buds, it is sometimes difficult to decide what I’m hungry for, and when I do eat, I have to chew my food to smithereens before swallowing. It takes some effort to convince myself to eat tasteless food and lots of chewing time. Patience, patience, My child.

But…before I forget…I feel the need to share my tube removal experience with all of you. This is pure fact…no embellishing whatsoever. Okay, maybe a little for your amusement only. Hey, I’m a people pleaser and love a good smile on a great face.

It was Monday, January 6, 2014 when I called the doctor’s office. I’d had enough of this dangling feeding tube protruding from my upper mid-section. After all, we’d been together for 6 months. It had done its job well, but clearly, it was time to move on to the next phase. The appointment was set for the following Thursday morning.

I was excited, and I’m not going to lie, a wee bit anxious. When they inserted the tube I was put under for the surgery. I had no clue of what went on during the procedure. But with the removal, it would be different. No drugs, no numbing, no dimmed lights with music. I would be fully alert with only a nurse’s hand to hold. With a quick tug of the tube—out it pops! “It’s not painful and will just take a few seconds. If anyone can do this, you can.” So they assured me.

Thursday came and I was ready. When they called my name to come back, I asked the nurse, “Now, are you sure this isn’t going to hurt? I’m a little nervous.” Without answering my question, she quickly ushered me into the patient room and said, “The doctor will explain everything.” Okay, it was obvious she had skirted around my question and the nerves began to stir a little. Soon after, in came the doctor. They had me lay on the exam table as he began to explain procedure.

“I’m going to tug on your tube. It may be a little uncomfortable, but you will do fine. In very rare cases, the tube will not come out properly. If that were to happen, we will have to remove it surgically—much like the surgery you had when it was inserted. But that hasn’t happened in quite some time. Okay, you tell me when you’re ready.”

There was no backing out now. I felt the nurse gently take hold of my hand…yes, she really did. My heart skipped a beat, and suddenly I realized I hadn’t prayed about any of this. I silently and quickly condensed a 5 minute prayer into 5 words. Oh Lord, help me, please! Then I heard myself say, “Okay, I’m ready.”

No words could’ve prepared me for what happened next. After I gave the go ahead, the doctor took my tube in both hands and began this enormous tug of war—not once, not twice, but three times, practically lifting my helpless body in the air, while stretching my stomach upwards like a volcano. If I had closed my eyes, I would sworn the doctor had placed one foot on the exam table while tugging with all his might. Thankfully, in less than five seconds, there was a snap—no crackle—and a loud pop, and it was all over.

After the stars faded from my eyes, I looked down expecting to see both of my kidneys and my right foot lying by my side. But fortunately, all that was left was a dangling tube in the doctor’s proud hands. Through it all I didn’t say a word, but the nurse said my eyes widened…unnaturally. No kidding.

Now with all due respect, the doctor was right. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. I got through the procedure just fine and was very grateful to have it over. I thought for sure they’d stitch me up a little. After all, I’d had a hole in my stomach for six months. But the doctor assured me it wasn’t necessary and I would heal completely in a couple of days. So all I had to brag about was an attractive pile of gauze taped to my mid-section disguised as an extra belly button.

As they sat me up on the exam table, the nurse said, “Are you okay? Do you want to sit awhile before you leave?” I remember mumbling, “I think I’m okay, thanks.” as I pushed myself off the table and mindlessly meandered down the hallway. A part of me couldn’t believe what had just happened in an appointment that took less than five minutes, tops. And the other part felt freedom and hoped I’d never have to go through that again. When I took the bandage off the next day, I was amazed that the hole was already beginning to close on its own. Good thing…I’d just eaten oatmeal for breakfast. Okay, sorry for that visual.

So, that’s my “Freedom” story. One more phase of this journey complete.

Several people have asked me, “Now that you’re finished with treatments, what’s next?” Well, since this is a reoccurrence, I have follow up doctor appointments scheduled with my ENT beginning next week. He will continue to monitor me closely each month for…well, for whenever he gives me the boot. And a PET scan is scheduled in March to determine if the cancer has spread. If it has, (appreciate your prayers that it hasn’t) there will be more chemotherapy scheduled.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that at the very beginning of my journey God said, “Trust Me.” So I am. Whether I’m in a treatment chair receiving drugs, having a tube unnaturally jerked from my stomach, or even when the sun is shining and the birds are singing; basically, every moment of every day, I am to trust Him. Tis so sweet, really. Join me, won’t you?

Suffering

Hello my fellow blog readers / prayer friends!
I have been absent from the blog world for a few weeks--taking a little break--while enjoying my family during the wonderful holidays. I trust you have enjoyed the CHRISTmas season and are experiencing the blessings of the New Year!

Progress update: I am finished using my feeding tube and eating real food. So...ix-nay on the eeding-fube-tay! My plan (the doctors have left this up to me and my eating progress), is to have the tube removed sometime this week. Yay! Stomach sleepers unite--I'm back! 

Basically, my daily food intake is what ever sounds good in smaller portions, and LOTS of chewing. My salty taste buds have returned, I'd say about 25%--depending on what the food is, while my sweet sense is still pretty much nil. It was a little discouraging not being able to enjoy all of the yummy sweets over the holidays. My mom brought over some fudge for Christmas, and when I excitedly nibbled on it, it tasted like bitter cocoa. Ugh. Needless to say, I lost about 5 pounds over the holidays. Don't be jealous. Please, trust me on this one.

I am so thankful for where I am in God's plan on this incredible journey. I have met new friends, connected with old, and continue to be amazed of how God works in the lives of His adored people. May you continue to experience God in the new year as you draw closer in your relationship with Him.

The following devotion is one that I wrote a few months ago during my chemo journey. I had forgotten about it until just today. If you have experienced suffering in your life, I hope these words speak to you as a reminder of the great love our heavenly Father has for each of us.

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Suffering. Sometimes it’s all in the way you look at it.

I wear a hat because I’ve lost most of my hair through cancer treatments. I have a lot of pretty hats that make me smile, and I sometimes get compliments on how lovely they are.

Jesus wore a crown of thorns on his head. He didn’t get to choose it—it was mockingly thrust upon his weary brow, the sharp thorns piercing into His tender skin.  It wasn’t pretty, and it didn’t bring smiles or compliments. But He wore it anyway…just for me.

I have wonderful friends that pray for me throughout my cancer journey. They encourage me with kind words and loving acts of service.

Jesus was spat upon, scourged, stripped and mocked. At one point, He was abandoned by most of his closest friends. He experienced harsh ridicule and false accusations, and was willingly led to Golgotha (a place of the skull) to be crucified…just for me.

Every week I get stuck with needles for some cancer related procedure or test. While not excruciating, if I had my druthers, I'd just as soon not have to endure it.

Jesus had metal spikes hammered into his hands and feet and was left to suffer while hanging on a wooden cross. He didn’t have to, but He endured it anyway… just for me.

Some days I experience nausea and weakness. I can’t eat or drink properly--feeling weak, miserable and alone.

Jesus hung on the cross in excruciating pain for hours. He was without food or water and was only offered bitter vinegar from a sponge to drink. In a dark moment of utmost misery and loneliness, He cried out to His Father, “Eli Eli, lama sabachthani?” (My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?) He was God in the flesh and could’ve saved himself in an instant, but He hung there and endured all of the horrible pain… just for me.

Jesus gave up his life on a wooden cross so I wouldn’t have to. He suffered all the pain, ridicule and loneliness, while paying the ultimate price: His perfect sacrifice for my deadly sins.  He didn’t have to, but because of His great love, He did it anyway. For you and for me.