Nothing I Desire Compares with You

I finally remembered to ask the radiologist (as opposed to my GP) about my prognosis and how long I had to live.  He said, "You have seasons to live.  You won't die within the next few days or weeks.  If you do, it won't be because of cancer.  You have seasons, a year, maybe two."  Oh my.

I was alone again to hear this news.  Why do I have to hear this stuff when I'm all alone?  It becomes a mantra in my head, a year maybe two, a year maybe two.  It was terrifying.  From the five years, maybe longer, that I had depended on having, my life was shortened to "seasons, a year, maybe two."  Seasons, like summer-fall and I'm done?  So instead of watching the new grandbabies grow to age five or older, I may not make it to age two?

I start shaking from the inside out.  If I were not in a doctor's office waiting for the nurse to come back, I would cry and maybe scream.  But I don't have words.  Except...a year, maybe two...a year, maybe two.

I'm not numb anymore.  This prognosis shakes me out of my numbness.  I don't like this answer, not at all.  And I'm scared.  This is not okay with me.  What will I do now?  How do I proceed with my life?

I have to go home.  I will go home.  I need my girls and they will need me.  That's settled.

God, help me.  I need to sing a song.  Uh...Lord, you are more precious than silver.  Lord, you are more costly than gold.  Lord, you are more beautiful than diamonds.  And nothing I desire compares to you.  Nothing I desire compares to you.

"...I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my lord, for whose sake I have lost all things.  I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ"

Philippians 3:8

Wait for the Lord

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord"
Psalm 27:14

It was time to call my children. That was the hardest part. We cried a lot together. I knew by then from reading on the internet that only 20% of people with metastatic breast cancer were alive after five years. My children have given me five grandchildren. The babies are less than four months old. I may have only five years. The boys are six, three and two. And I may have less than five years. It isn't enough. It isn't enough for my daughters either.

I know we could all die at any time, but I have more of a deadline (no pun intended). How should I use the time? Go back to Cincinnati where my cherished children live? Or stay in Missouri with beloved family and friends and a job that I love?

So I had the bone scan, but I had to wait five more days for the results. My niece came to stay with me. She was a godsend--waiting on me hand and foot, encouraging me, praying for me, waiting with me. The first afternoon we waited at Priscilla's house hoping for an answer any minute. But it was five more days before I found out--it was definitely cancer.

The doctor cried when she told me. I knew it was serious then. She confirmed that the average lifespan I had read about on the internet sounded about right.

I spend a lot of time staring into space. I can't take it in. I'm not praying much and I question myself about that. I hesitate to ask God to heal me. Do I want to be healed or do I want to go to heaven. I'm honestly not sure. Until I think about my grandchildren and how I won't see them learn to walk or say their first words or graduate or marry. And I think of the pain it will cause my daughters. I cry over this pain, and I would give anything to spare them.

I feel like my life was thrown up into the air, and nothing that I used to depend on will be there tomorrow like I thought it would. I don't know anything for sure.

So I wait...on the Lord. And I take heart.

A Time to Dance

The nurse called me to say that I needed to come into the doctor's office to hear the results of the test. That's never a good sign. If the results are good, the nurse just tells you over the phone.

I knew that a CT would give results for cancer patients too, so I tried to prepare for either a bloodclot in my lungs or for the possibility that my cancer had returned. Chemo had been so difficult the last time that I really didn't want to go through it again. And the hair loss. No!

It was cancer. Even though I had tried to prepare for that answer, it still felt like a punch in the stomach. I could die. And I could suffer a lot before I did.

I face the facts but I don't feel them. I shove the emotions to the back burner, just like usual. How should I feel? Is it prideful to ask that question or is it the mark of a mature Christian?

So many questions... What if...? What should I do now? Cry? Pray? Call someone? Feel something?

All I know is that God is in this. He has carried me through so much in the past and I know he will carry me through this too. And maybe, just maybe, we will dance.

"A time to mourn and a time to dance"

Ecclesiastes 3:4b

"Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab, Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth, Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse," Matt. 1:5-6a

Within two verses of the genealogical record of Jesus Christ the son of David, Matthew makes mention of three women. The only other woman included as an ancestor of Jesus besides his mother Mary is Tamar, the daughter-in-law of Jacob, who deceived him and became pregnant by him. Rahab was a prostitute. Ruth was a foreigner. Solomon's mother, though not mentioned by name, is Bathsheba who committed adultery with King David.

By our standards the only one of these women we would consider respectable was Ruth and she would have been considered an unclean pagan by the Israelites. I marvel at our Father for including these women in the genealogy of Jesus. Surely his bloodline should reflect only the best, or at the very least it should be whitewashed for the sake of Jesus' unblemished pedigree.
While it does add dignity to women to be included in Jesus' genealogical records at all, it would have been much more gratifying if the women were more respectable. What are we to conclude from this? Why these women? Why include them?

The faith chapter of the Bible lists only great heroes of the faith: "by faith Noah," "by faith Abraham...Isaac...Jacob...Joseph...Moses" Then incredibly, "by faith the prostitute Rahab" (Hebrews 11:31). She is listed right up there with the biggies for saving the Israelite spies!

After all is discovered about Tamar's actions, Judah whom God renamed Israel said of her, "she is more righteous than I" (Genesis 38:26).

Ruth's story is included in the Old Testament. She has a book named after her because of her loyalty to her Israelite mother-in-law. Maybe Boaz was willing to marry a foreigner because his mother Rahab was also a foreigner. (I wonder how Ruth got along with her new mother-in-law.)

Bathsheba's son Solomon was the wisest and richest of all the Kings of Israel. He bowed down to her and had a throne brought in so she could sit at his right hand.

Once again, we see that God judges differently than we do. His approval is not based on propriety but on righteousness and faith in Him. Nothing is whitewashed except through his forgiveness where sins are washed whiter than snow. While we tend to have a long memory where people's sins are concerned, God remembers their sins no more. And it isn't our judgment that matters in the end; it is God's. In God's judgment, all of these women turn out to be people of righteousness, faith and courage. Would that I would be so distinguished!

Lord, give us eyes to see people as you do.

"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing," 2 Corinthians 2:15.


Whenever he had down time, Mike was in our room on the 5th floor of the hospital. He was a kind and helpful nursing assistant in addition to being warm, funny and charming. We loved for him to come and help relieve the monotony of our days.


We could tell he liked visitng our room, too. Our daughters and their husbands are about his age, and of course they are fun and interesting people. He told us we were the only people on the floor who weren't in extreme pain or extremely crazy. But I think it was more than that. Maybe he saw that we were a loving, caring family since I stayed with my daughter most of her six days there, and the rest of the family were there a lot too. Visitors from the church came and stayed and cared and prayed with her. I'm sure he saw some of that as well. After Charis got better, we laughed a lot, and Mike and the nurse commented that we were the quietest room--meaning the room that needed the least attention.


The last day before Charis was discharged, Mike's shift ended and he came to say goodbye. He stayed well after his shift ended because we began talking about our daughters' church and how he should attend so we can see him again. A good friend had also been trying to get him to attend the church down the street. I told him I would be praying for him and not to be surprised if God really begins convicting him of his need for Him.


Maybe Mike was just bored. But I believe he detected in us the "aroma of Christ" and was irresistably drawn to the fragrance that was wafting out our door. All praise to our precious Savior!


Dear Father, we know your greatest longing is for Mike to be your child. In the name of Jesus, we ask that you bind Satan in his life and draw him with cords of kindness to You instead. Please bring around him the people and circumstances that will melt his heart of stone and allow his heart to be molded in your image. Amen.

"Each day he carries us in his arms" ~~Psalm 68

American Airlines has texted me several times today: the flight is on time; this is your gate; the flight has arrived (believe it or not); your baggage is here.

I was supposed to fly to Miami today and then on to Haiti tomorrow. But that didn't happen. I hurt my knee...really badly...torn meniscus (I learned to spell this yesterday) and torn ACL.

I was so sure God wanted me in Haiti for a month. I wanted to help even though I knew it would be a huge challenge for me. So now I begin to question myself: Is it because I did not say, "Lord willing"? Was it really all about pride?--a question I have to ask myself regularly. In other words, is this my fault? Or is God sparing me? Saving me from something? Needing me more somewhere else?

Or maybe it was because as I was in Bible study Tuesday night, I recommitted myself to "whatever it takes to draw closer to thee, Lord. That's what I'll be willing to do." More than that, "Whatever it takes for my will to break, that's what I'll be willing to do." Lanny Wolfe's song challenges me, and every so often I check to see if I am up to the challenge.

The first time I did this, I learned the next day that my daughter was being sexually abused. At other times, other challenges have arisen. Sometimes, nothing happens. This time within 24 hours, my knee was busted and my summer plans were rearranged.

What is God up to? What's going on?

I only know as I think about this situation that I am confident in God. He continues to have a plan for my life and he continues to lead me day by day. This is the adventure. I am his child and I just hold on to his hand. And sometimes he carries me in his arms. Incredibly, I like those times more and more, when he carries me close to his heart. I think I'll keep singing, "whatever it takes...."