Day 152 - I know that I know that I know

"Even though I worry and get anxious about all the unknowns, I do know that my God has already seen the other side of it and he'll get me there."
~Judy King~

My cousin Judy is on my mind again. I find it interesting how, after years of neglect, I've rediscovered my cousins. I have not been close to any of my cousins since childhood. There was no fight, fallout, or painful disconnect. It was just life drifting us apart. Now, after more than 30 years, I value them, love them, miss them, need them and want to connect and stay connected. Yet several of them are in crisis. Only on the verge of losing them, have I placed value in them. *sighs* It's such a....human thing to do.

I received another update from my cousin Judy. If you're a long time stalker, you now all about her. If your not, then I hope you find what I find in her updates. Each time I read her updates I am humbled and awed by her bravery and faith and I am inspired to continue my own journey. When I think I have it bad, I reread one of her updates and I'm reminded just how blessed my life has been.

I ask you my loyal stalkers, my random passers by and my curious trolls, please pray for my cousins. I'll admit to being selfish. I only just got them back.

Good morning!

I need to ask for your prayers yet again. My latest blood work and CT scan have shown a slight progression of the cancer in my lungs, so we need to begin chemo again. It's a little discouraging to know that we really haven't made a dent in the tumors since they were first discovered back in February of 2009. Each time we stop the chemo they grow back, and now they are larger than ever before.

Thankfully, I've had a long break this time and have regained much of my strength in order to keep fighting. I've made plans to return to Rhode Island for about two weeks and just hang out with my family - on the beach as much as possible! We'll begin treatments as soon as I get back. This time we'll try something different - pills instead of infusions. I will be taking about 6 pills a day for 8-10 days. Then I'll have a week to ten days off before starting again.

This will go on indefinitely. We'll keep track of things through monthly blood work and regular scans. If there is improvement, we can modify the treatments. If there's no improvement, we keep going as long as necessary. The type of chemo that I'll be taking is typically easier to handle physically than what I was on before, so that is a blessing. I should be able to keep working, though tiredness will be a factor. Another blessing is that I'll be able to get quite a bit of it done over the summer, so I'll have a pretty good idea how my body is reacting to it before school starts again in August. There's a song that we sing in our chapels at school that starts out like this, "I know that I know that I know that only the Lord is God. I know that I know that I know that He is in control and I am not!". Even though I worry and get anxious about all the unknowns, I do know that my God has already seen the other side of it and he'll get me there.

I love you all and thank you so much for your prayers.

Judy

Today I'm grateful for:

Day 127 - Super Fit

“We have no more right to put our discordant states of mind into the lives of those around us and rob them of their sunshine and brightness then we have to enter their houses and steal their silverware”
~Julia Moss Seton~

Don't let today's title fool you. It has nothing to do with me being physically fit but with me throwing a fit this morning. *sighs*

A bunch of minor things like my butt setting my iPod to some odd setting while I was doing my ab-crunches, like that weird setting making my workout playlist skip to my God Freak playlist, like my earphone cord getting hooked on the button on my shorts, like my arm getting tangled in the ear phone cord and sending my iPod shooting across the room, like me knocking over my glass of water. All this flew me into a rage so large that it spilled over into the back yard. The poor Pixie, wondering what on earth was going on, was greeted this morning by a crazed woman with her hair in a black headband sweating profusely and grunting in her direction "Mom's having a fit, best go back to your room so you don't step in it"

Um, yeah, picture the Tasmanian devil swirling around my living room in a blond wig and a "I love NY" sweat soaked tee, spurting obscenities and yelling at God "THIS is NOT the way to teach me a lesson dude!" well...you get the idea. As I mopped up the water, dried off the treadmill, checked the iPod for working order, assured the hamster it was not him I was mad at,  I began to cool down. As you can guess, the inevitable guilt kicked in.

I waited for God to send me a message "That kinda behavior is NOT OK dude" but it never came. Instead I finished my workout with a bang and an extra sprint, Roy was a GREAT boy and it took less than 3 minutes for him to try some poo flinging and I calmly said "STOP, wait" took him outside and said "Go Potty HERE" and he did, and made no further attempt to fling poo. Then I said a quick "Please forgive me Lord. I'm an ass but you love me anyway. Thanks for that".

Still feeling guilty, like a kid with her hand caught in her mother’s purse, I kept expecting my "punishment" but it never came. Instead, when I walked into my closet to decide what to wear, I spied my little red Styx tee, the one I have been too large to wear for over a year now. I heard a whisper in my ear say "Try it on". I thought to myself "OK, here comes the punishment. I'm going to put this on and I'm going to look like a bleeding manatee" "Oh well, I have it coming" and I tried it on. Guess what.....It fit! Not only did it fit, but I look smokin in it! Standing there in my little red Styx tee and undies I say to God "You know you are rewarding bad behavior don't you?"

Here I could say I heard God's voice, or had a great AHA! moment, or something, but that would compound my bad behavior. What I got was much better, I got a memory. Of a time when I was about 9 and my dad caught me stealing from my mom's purse:

He didn't yell or scream or tell me what a bad seed I was. Instead he took me to Woolworth’s with him. As he was picking up the stuff on my mother’s list I wandered the jewelry isle. When my dad came to find me I was fingering this pair of pretty little earrings. They were dangling red, white and blue stars and I remember thinking "if I was not such a bad child, my daddy would buy these for me". Still feeling horribly guilty I turned away from the pretty stars and watched, mouth agape, as my father picked them up and headed to the check-out isle saying nothing.


I burst into tears and sobbed LOUDLY "Daddy I don't deserve them! I was bad!" (funny, this memory still makes me cry *wipes eyes*) and my father turned to me and said "Beth Ann, if we all got what we deserved, who amung us would escape hanging?" This was very deep for a 9 year old and a very "Dad" thing to say but I got it. He said in his own way "Yes, you were bad, but I've been bad before too and someone forgave me" and in a very "Dad" way he said "I love you". 

You know how memories are. This one came back in a flash and all I really heard was my dad's voice saying "If we all got what we deserve" Standing there in my closet, still in nothing but my little red tee and undies I smiled and said "God...You rock" *makes the rock-n-roll hand gesture and bobs head* "Thanks, I love you too"

(I still have one of those earrings in my jewelry box. I find it every once in awhile when I dig around in there looking through bits of string, baby teeth and random bits of broken macaroni necklaces. Every time I see it I'm reminded my daddy loves me and that it's OK not to be perfect.)

Could that face be naughty?
Naawwha! Not that face!