And Just Like That ... The Ship Runs Aground

Well, three months ago, I posted about our cancer journey.  At that time, we'd not gotten great news, but basically a report that it was "about as good as it's going to get."

So, for three months, Ben had amazing quality of life.  The pills, while riddled with their own brand of side effects, came nowhere close to the misery of the IV chemotherapy.  Ben enjoyed somewhat better sleep, a better overall feeling of health, and a generally happier (seemingly) demeanor.  He still suffered the diarrhea and tummy troubles, along with troubles in the hands and feet, but it just wasn't near as bad as the IV chemo.

On June 4th, that came to an end.  

He had a new P.E.T. scan on June 1st.  I prayed that God would suck the cancer out of Ben and make the scan clear.  I asked everyone I know to pray for similar.  But, God said, "no".

On June 4th, we found out that the cancer tumors are, again, active.  Once more, it's back to the IV chemotherapy.  It's back to the side effects that are more debilitating, the more upset tummy, the more traumatized digestive system.  We are back to 3 days out of every 14 of sitting in the cancer center, waiting, waiting, waiting.  Waiting for blood tests. Waiting for the pharmacy to pull up the medication.  Waiting for the drip, drip, drip of life-saving medication that simultaneously destroys cancer and wrecks healthy cells.

But, you know what?

We had 3. Good. Months.

We had 3 months of loveliness.  Of energy, and laughter, and feeling like life was kinda-sorta-almost-maybe normal.  It was bliss.

And I am grateful to the LORD of all creation that we had those 3 months.  He gave us a breather.  I needed it. 

So, as I post this, we are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary.  When I was first told that Ben had colon cancer, the only things I knew about that type of cancer wrapped around my brain stem and strangled all rational thought and I stammered to God, "please, let me celebrate my 25th anniversary with him.  Please don't call him home."

And here we are, prayer answered.  Perhaps I should have aimed for the stars!  But, I didn't.  I aimed for tomorrow.  And you know what, Jesus even told us to stop worrying about tomorrow.  He's amazing and I'm not.  I can't quite stop worrying.

This coming Thursday begins the next cancer chapter.  A new medication will be used, one that doesn't cause neuropathy in his hands and feet.  However, it definitively causes hair loss.  When the doctor shared that, Ben silently took out the scale of "which one is less worse" and weighed the options.  You could see it in his eyes as he pondered the choices.  Ultimately, he chose hair loss.

My prayer for him is unchanged.  God is Jehovah Rophe.  He is the Great Healer.  I am praying for earthly healing.  I am also praying for acceptance of God's ultimate plan.  I know the odds. Ben does too.  But, we are still asking for earthly healing.

So, as the journey starts again, I return to the verse of hope for me, the verse I read over our 2nd son as he graduated in May.  I share it, again, with you.  Because, you wanna know something really cool?  

God ALWAYS keeps His promises.  You can bank on that.

God is good,
All the time.
And all the time,
God is good.

Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NASB)

¹¹ For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. ¹² Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. ¹³ You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.


*Graphic at beginning of page is from the website Free Vintage Images.  All credit for the lovely image belongs to them. 

The Rest of the Story

So, as mentioned in my last post, we got the results of Ben's P.E.T. scan.  It wasn't as we'd hoped, but it wasn't truly bad either.  

The short of it was -- this is your life now.

The doctor never said remission.  Instead he said that the tumors are as small as they'll ever be.

The doctor never said that chemo was over.  Instead he said that Ben would always be doing some type of treatment to keep those tumors from growing.

So, indeed, this is our lives now.  There's no more guessing.  This is the new path God has placed us upon.  Our feet have left the comfortable path of yesterday, and been placed on the unknown path of now.  So, we must walk it.  

We have two choices -- we can fumble in the darkness, feeling blindly in the fading light wondering what's next.

Or, we can walk in The Light.  And God will give us just enough Light for the next step.  And we can learn to trust Him in ways that we may have never experienced before.

Life is full of noise and clamor.  God is full of peace and joy.  I'll take the peace and joy.  I just pray I can KEEP taking the peace and joy, and stop leaning on Kimberly to do things that Kimberly is really barely capable of doing.

So, there is a "rest of the story", to quote the late Paul Harvey.

Ben was offered a regimen of chemotherapy pills. This would replace the 6-8 hours of time spent at the cancer center.  It would also, theoretically, eliminate the need for the Neulasta shot that is so debilitating. 

But, there was a cost.  And that cost was quoted to us as being $900/month.

Welp, that was that.  We are too stretched to pull that off.  The cancer center suggested we contact our insurance to see if there was another option.  I then started asking people to pray.  I mean, Ben so much wanted to get away from that shot, and I wanted so badly for him to have that too.

Ben contacted the insurance and after about an hour on the phone he came back with an estimate if we used their mail order option.

$35/month

God is so good!  It would have never dawned on me to trust mail order, but the experience has been very good and very affordable!

However, that is not "the rest of the story."

For seven days, Ben took this medication -- 4 pills in the morning, 4 at night.  At the end of the seven days, Ben said that though the side-effects are basically the same, he doesn't feel quite as bad.  His fingers and toes are tingling (nerve damage), and his digestive system is screwy, but he didn't lose 3 days to Neulasta.

And ... here's the biggy.

At some point in the past, I mentioned in a post how much I missed the days when Ben would out-walk me to the door of a store.  He would walk so fast, he'd end up stopping to watch me catch up.  This cancer took that away from him, and the roles changed such that I'd often stand and wait on him.

But not anymore.

As we walked to the cancer center to see the nurse practioner after his first 7 days of the pills, he did it. 

He out-walked me.

He had to turn and wait.

And I was stunned.  After 7 long months of miserable chemotherapy to fight the cancer monster, Ben felt well enough to OUT-WALK ME.

You know what?  I'm so glad.  It's a small step.  We can't have that old path back, but having this old reminder of a different path made a huge difference to me that day.  Maybe it's silly.  Maybe it's strange.  Maybe it goes away again.  

But I had it that day.

That one day, I had Ben back to himself.

The drug therapy is so much better on him.  Side effects are going to happen, but quality of life matters so much.

So, I thank the LORD of all creation for hearing my cries, and answering me in this way.

I am grateful.

And for those of you who read this and pray regularly, this is our praise.  Did we get our "yes" from the LORD?  No, not really.  But He's still taking care of us!  I love Him so much.

Thank you so much, my precious friends.  You are a treasure on earth.

Praise the LORD!  Praise Him!

Psalm 150 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

A Psalm of Praise.

150 Praise the Lord!
Praise God in His sanctuary;
Praise Him in His mighty expanse.
² Praise Him for His mighty deeds;
Praise Him according to His excellent greatness.

³ Praise Him with trumpet sound;
Praise Him with harp and lyre.
⁴ Praise Him with timbrel and dancing;
Praise Him with stringed instruments and pipe.
⁵ Praise Him with loud cymbals;
Praise Him with resounding cymbals.
⁶ Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord!

*Graphics at beginning of page is from the website Antique Images.  All credit for the lovely image belongs to them. 

 

I Wear Blue For My Hero

It is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness month.  Starting tomorrow, I will be wearing blue for my hero, my husband Benjamin, as he continues to fight this cancer.

It has been a long time since I wrote anything I felt was worthy of posting.  Much of what I've wanted to say fit neatly in a small package, so I posted it to Facebook for my family and close friends instead.  But today, on the eve of learning the results of Ben's latest scan, I thought I'd post.

I truly don't have much to say.  God has bestowed blessing after blessing upon us.  It makes me feel so incredibly loved that God cares for even the tiniest things in my seemingly mundane life.  And yet, He loves me in all my flailing and failings, so much so that He lifts my chin to tell me, directly, that He loves me.

I stand amazed.

Tomorrow, at 1:30pm central time, we will learn the results of the last P.E.T. scan Ben had, which was on Tuesday of this week.  It's rough waiting so many days, and yet some small part of me actually doesn't want to hear.  

God has a great plan.  His plan is always perfect, right, and right on time.  I pray His plan includes full earthly healing for Ben.  I also pray that, if God says 'no' to my request, that I can accept His plan.  Sometimes, it's hard being told 'no'.  

When I think back to Ben's visit to the walk-in doctor last April, there's one thing that comes to mind over and over. 

If only one person had said, "blood in your stool can also point to cancer," I think we would have taken action much more quickly.  It never crossed my mind.  Ever.  I never though, "oh cancer".  We both thought, "oh ulcer".  If only one person had ever said it, things might be different.  Might.  

Well, you know what hindsight is anyway.

I wear blue for my hero.  Ben, who's body has been subjected to chemicals I'd not will on an enemy.  Ben, who's complaints are very minimal.  Ben, who declines my offers to bring his drinks or foods when he's decidedly under the weather.  Ben, who works from home while also struggling with fatigue.  Ben, who's fingers are likely irreversibly damaged by one of the medicines, that he can feel constantly, yet says little.

Ben, my darling husband of 24 1/2 years, is my hero.  

I cannot even begin to imagine how he feels.  I cannot picture how I'd behave in his situation.  You cannot escape the startling reality of mortality as chemotherapy drugs drip through the IV and into the body.  How do you handle it?  

I'm not the one with cancer, but I deal with this poorly.  The house is a wreck, we often don't have nice, hot meals at night because I'm stuck in some strange world of "I can't do it anymore".  And yet, I look at Ben, think of what he's enduring, and I pull up my bootstraps and mush on.

He's the strong one.  I'm the weak one.  It's hard trying to be the strong one, while the strong one becomes the weak one.  God is my strength to pull me out of bed, to drag me to the store to get toilet paper (we ran out), to encourage me to call friends, and seek prayer.  I am not doing this on my own power, because my battery is low.  I am doing this because, when I plug into God's power, I can make it happen.

So, tomorrow, we get news.  I am praying for news of remission.  But no matter what happens, I will be praising God.  Why?  Because, no matter what happens, He is the Great I Am, and He is why I am.

Habakkuk 3:17-19 NASB

¹⁷ Though the fig tree should not blossom
And there be no fruit on the vines,
Though the yield of the olive should fail
And the fields produce no food,
Though the flock should be cut off from the fold
And there be no cattle in the stalls,
¹⁸ Yet I will exult in the Lord,
I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.
¹⁹ The Lord God is my strength,
And He has made my feet like hinds’ feet,
And makes me walk on my high places.

For the choir director, on my stringed instruments.

*Graphics at beginning of page is from the website Old Design Shop.  All credit for the lovely image belongs to them.  

God's Reassurances

I don't really have a lot to say tonight, but I do want to share something that continually amazes me -- God's reassurances.

I'm not sure why God has to step in over and over to reassure me of His promises.  It's not like I don't already know, because I do.  But, I get lost in the events of life.  I see Ben suffering under the effects of the chemo, or the immunization booster shot and I get ... lost.  I *know* God's promises, but when the reality of living blocks my view of the LORD, I guess I "forget".

However, God loves me so much, He doesn't mind reminding me just how much He loves me.  And, for that, I stand amazed.  I mean, I can't really remind my kids to do the same thing twice without a little "grump" in my voice, yet the LORD of the universe is patiently nodding, reminding me "yes, yes, My child, I love you and will take care of you."

I'm grateful He does that for me, and for each and every one of us.  He is always ready to show us His love.

So, one of the verses I cling to is God's promise for my life -- Jeremiah 29:11 (NASB):

'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.

I've probably mentioned this promise multiple times over various posts.  Ben is our family's breadwinner.  His cancer is dangerous.  His struggles are constant.  As such, this makes the future feel quite uncertain, even bleak.   But that's not what God promises.  So, this verse, and Romans 8:28 (NASB) are the verses to which I cling.

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.

If you've been reading this blog, you've seen me quote these before. But, I somehow forget.  Or, I let life consume me, and I lose sight of the truth of Scripture.  

On January 1st, I decided to start a new devotional that includes space to write thoughts and reflections.  The devotional, Jesus Calling, A 365-Day Journaling Devotional by Sara Young, was an impulse purchase as I bought Christmas presents.  When I bought it, I thought I might give it to someone, but I felt strongly as if I were to keep it.  So, I set it aside for my personal use.

As I sat to write, I reflected on how very much our lives had changed with Ben's diagnosis, and how the future was currently unrolling.  I was pondering how I'd use the guide and what I'd write while also considering the future of who might read it (hopefully just one of my children).  I opened the book to January and there it was, in print for me for all eternity.

God's mighty promise.



I was astounded.  I sat silent for a long time, simply looking at the page and the verse I cling to like Linus to his blanket.  This is my security verse and here it was, given to me by the LORD of the universe.  He knew I'd need it, so He urged me to keep the book.  And while looking at this verse, I was surrounded by a profound feeling of love, and care.

And that's how I started my new year, the year of our LORD 2015.  

Thank You, my Father, for loving me so much!  I pray that you who are reading this will feel the warmth and undeniable presence of His love right now, wherever you are, and whatever you may be going through.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NASB

¹⁶ Rejoice always; ¹⁷ pray without ceasing; ¹⁸ in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

*Graphics at beginning of page is from the website HubPages, specifically the collection of Carla Chadwick.  All credit for the lovely image belongs to her. 

Here For a Reason

It's been a little while since I last posted.  We did receive Ben's P.E.T. scan results, and while they weren't "bad", they were also not necessarily "good".  They were, in a boring word: progress.  One tumor gone, one unchanged but no longer active, and two more spots to watch.  Diagnosis: six more sessions of chemo over three months, starting December 30th.

It took me a LONG time to process that information, and accept that God's answers to my prayers were not "yes".  I've had to remind myself that this is His plan, it's always good for those who love Him, and it's not for calamity.  But, I'm human, and it doesn't look like not-calamity.  So, I am hanging onto faith.  God's got this, and I need to believe that with all my heart.

Unsurprisingly, I dropped pretty far into the blues.  We quietly remembered the delivery date of our stillborn baby girl on 1995 December 22.  And I realized one afternoon that all the plans I'd set up for Christmas back in July were decimated by the way our lives had changed.  It made me feel very weepy, down, and blue.  

Plans up in flames.  Diagnosis not what I'd prayed fervently for.  Weather gray and cold.

Yes, the blues found a home in me.  I struggled to find joy in anything, felt paralyzed by everything, and basically just didn't want to function.  It's a silly way for a mom to be cause my family needs all of me, but I wasn't really there to be had.  I was kinda there, kinda functioning, kinda moving, kinda doing.  But, all of mom wasn't present.

And then it happened.

Christmas 2014.

It happened in multiple parts.  So, I'm going to share each piece, and keep it brief enough so your eyes don't glaze over.

First, I wrapped presents.  Now, I'm a chronic procrastinator.  I was shopping as late as the night of the 23rd for ideas.  Like I said, my well-laid plans went kaboom, so I had to fall back into panic mode.  But here's the thing -- it wasn't panic.  I just calmly picked up each and every item that the LORD laid on my heart.

And then I wrapped them.  I printed my own gift tags, bought lots of snowflake paper, some ribbon and bows, and just buried myself in the task.  And it felt GOOD.  I mean, really REALLY GOOD.  I love love LOVE giving things to people.  And if you ever hint that you like blue, or flowers, or anything you'll get something from me eventually that matches that thing. And that brings me joy.  

Wrapping presents for my family brought me immense joy.  I felt the darkness lifting from my aching soul, and I found joy.

Next, we had Christmas with my family on the 25th.  It was silly, there was tons of food and lots of laughter.  I loved watching my kids open their gifts from my mom and dad, and my brother and his wife.  There were exclamations of surprise and thankfulness, and I was immersed in the moment.  I had been a little weepy earlier in the day, but that had no place in this moment.  This moment was the enjoyment of love and family and sadness had no place there.  More darkness lifted.

That night I received something from the LORD I did not expect.  As usual, I was crying to Him about our circumstances and He gave me this song over K-Love Radio.  Ben and I both went to look it up on Youtube, so we could see the lyrics.  I really encourage you to listen if you have time.

Here For a Reason by Ashes Remain

The lyrics for this song reached deep inside of me and reminded me -- all things work for good because God makes that promise in the Bible and His word is always true.


"Every time that you wake up breathing
Every night when you close your eyes
Every day that your heart keeps beating
There's purpose for your life
So don't give up
Don't lay down
Just hold on
Don't quit now
Every breath that you take has meaning
You are here for a reason"

Yes, that's what His word promises.  There is a reason for this journey.  It's not something He haphazardly tossed in the general direction of our family.  He *chose* us for this journey.  He has a *purpose*.  Still hard, this journey, but He *chose* us for this not because He wants to harm us, but because He wants to make us stronger.  I can't see that yet.  I can't imagine how that will play out.  So, to faith I must cling, and He's reminding me that He's here, ever-present.

The final icing on the cake was the family reunion for Ben's side of the family.  He seemed really poor feeling Friday, and I was fearful we'd not be able to go.  However, on Saturday he arose looking and feeling good.  He even wanted to drive us there!  I was hesitant to let him drive the 2.5 hours, but I pushed that aside and said nothing.

And, for 2.5 hours, life felt normal again.  It was just like our old normal, and it was comfortable.  I melted into the world that represented, even though I knew deep inside that the old normal wasn't for us anymore.  God gave us something new.  

The reunion was wonderful.  Like Christmas day, it injected us with a feeling of love and joy.  As I sit here typing this, utterly exhausted by the drive back (since I drove the home route), I don't feel those blues anymore.  I feel joy. Oh, I know the blues are waiting for me, like a predator stalking prey for an ambush, but when that happens again, I'm going to read this and remember -- we are here for a reason.


Romans 8:23 (NASB)
²⁸ And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.

*Graphics at beginning of page is from the creator of the website Free Vintage Art.  All credit for the lovely image of Jesus in the manger belongs to them.

Light On The Next Step

Tomorrow, Ben and I will receive the results of last Thursday's P.E.T. scan.  Happily, I've not been losing sleep over this incoming information.  At least, sleep has not been lost yet.  There is still tonight to get through.   I'm pretty tired as I've been dealing with an antsy child this weekend, so I'm hoping I'll crash and sleep through until at least dawn.

But, this is the "light" on our next step.  What is seen on the scan will direct us to Ben's next procedure.  I want full remission, and I'm praying for that whole-heartedly.  However, God has a plan greater than mine, and I must also be prepared to accept His plan.  The Bible promises that His plans are always good.  I may not agree with God's plan, but I must trust that He has my best at heart.  I'm not going to lie -- it's hard.  

I love Ben very much.  Before the surgery, he'd beat me to the door by 5 feet.  Now?  I'm slowing my pace to keep pace with him.  He's lost quite a lot of weight, which is something he was already working on, but he's much lower than he'd intended to aim for.  He has days that go something like this -- feel good, feel good, feel good, CRASH.  Exhaustion hits swiftly and unexpectedly.  Standing for long periods of time is not possible, nor is being out and about amongst lots of people.  These things I want to see gone from his life.  I want him to feel good.  I want him to feel well.

But, God's plan is in here somewhere.  If we close our eyes, and get very still and quiet, He might share that plan, or direct our steps.  But, I've not really been able to be still and quiet.  My mind races into the Never-Never Land of What-Ifs which is populated by phrases like "terminal", "surgery", and "stage 4".  Phrases that threaten to drag you out behind the woodshed and exact some strange, twisted justice on your fragile emotional state.  And too often, I fall prey to them.

But God is greater than that.  God promises Heaven.  Heaven is populated by phrases like "no more illness", "glorified body", and "eternal praises".  God is the Great Healer -- Jehovah Rophe(1).  God is my Peace -- Jehovah Shalom(1).  God is my Strength -- Jehovah Uzzi(1).  Why am I fleeing wildly through my dark Never-Never Land of What-Ifs when I have the LORD of all creation promising me good?  I suspect I am struggling with trust.

I choose to trust my LORD.  But, it's very hard.  He may be giving us light for our next step tomorrow, but like the temporal person I am, I'll likely stumble over the thing forgetting that He's holding His outstretched hand to me, gently calling my name.

Therefore, I choose to give Monday, 2014 December 15 to the LORD.  I pray that I don't snatch it back out of His strong hands.

FLASHBACK

It is Sunday, 2014 August 24.  My life the past few days has been nothing but a sleep-deprived fog.  I'm vaguely aware of my responsibilities, and many are falling off the table and into the "can't deal with it" box.  I walk through my day struggling to maintain a steady face for the children so that I'm someone worth interacting with.  Truth is -- I cry myself to sleep every night, either into my pillow or as I sit on my knees trying to pray.

And trying is a good word for my prayers.  I can't find words, or don't know what to ask, so I just cry and whimper until my exhausted body finally begs to sleep.  I'm not sure if I'm eating well or not.  Time passes, and I'm just floating along moving from task to task like a robot.

The ICU at the hospital has extremely limited visiting hours.  Four times a day, I can visit Ben for just one hour.  So, I drive to the hospital, visit for an hour, and then go home.  Rinse and repeat that three more times.  This goes on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  By Friday, I've stopped crying when I walk from the hospital to the car.  Reality is sinking in, and I'm finally realizing that crying isn't my solution to my situation.  I need to be stronger.

On Saturday, Ben is moved into a regular room.  I can now come and go as I please from 8am until 9pm.  It's liberating to know that I can come when I'm not so sleepy as to stumble when I walk.  Saturday night I feel the LORD calling me to church.  I don't really want to go because I'm a bundle of emotion ready to burst wide open, but I feel He has a message for me. Ben gives me the blessing to go, so I do.

Well, of course, I burst into tears in Sunday School.  But, I have the best class in the universe.  I get hugged, and loved on, and prayed over.  It massages the aches in my soul, which is something I really needed.  As I head to the sanctuary for the worship service, I am stopped multiple times.  Folks want to bring us food.  They want to pray.  They want to hug.  

I'm feeling the very tender edges of heaven as I'm loved on unconditionally by people who love the LORD.  In my vast pain, no one cares if I cry.  They just love on me.

I finally walk into the sanctuary just as the first song begins.  I'm barely in my seat when I realize that God has indeed given me a personal invitation to church.

They are singing "How Great Thou Art".

I burst into tears.  The God of the universe extended a personal invitation to little ole me.  How many times this past week did I sing that song?  While driving?  While washing clothes?  While trying desperately to sleep?  10?  15?  50?  I have no idea, but it was my pillar for the week, and here it is again.  It was God's way of saying, "yes, Kimberly, I really want you here today."

Music ministers to me in a way I cannot put into words.  It touches deep into my being, bringing up the feelings of love, admiration, and wonder I have the LORD.  It lifts me into the presence of the King, sitting at His feet, looking up at Him with the awestruck wonder of a child.

From the second song, "The LORD Our God", I received a message of promise, a message of His provision and goodness.  I received a message that all is for His glory, which is what I want.

The third song, "This I Believe (The Creed)", drew me into the depth of my belief.  I'm not a seasoned, grizzled believer.  I'm still learning.  This song reminded me of my beliefs, of His power, and that no matter what happens, His children *will* rise again into glorified bodies.  This isn't all there is.  There's more, there's hope, there's Heaven. 

The final song, "My Heart is Yours", truly felt like it drew me into the presence of the King.  I was reminded that I gave my heart to King Jesus.  I must trust Him.  "My heart is Yours, my heart is Yours, take it all, take it all, my life in Your hands."  

Just the music alone ministered to me deeply.  The sermon was amazing.  But the best was the end of the service, and was not uttered by the pastor.  It was, instead, spoken by a child.

As the service closed with the song "I Have Decided", I chose to walk to the front for prayer.  I knew I'd lose it, but I had to have someone pray for us.  I had to hear another person speak peace over us.  My 10yo daughter followed me to the stage, and held onto my skirt as I sobbed into a prayer warrior.  He prayed over us, and I returned to my seat.  Once there, my daughter touched me so I looked at her.  She spoke these beautiful, gentle words:

"Don't cry mama.  God is going to heal daddy."

Oh the pure faith of a child.  Beautiful.  Just beautiful.  How I love the LORD!  He's amazing.  He called me to church, and spoke directly to my need through music and message.  

Matthew 5:4 (NASB)
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

(1) Reference: Praying Through the Names of God by Tony Evans, copyright 2014, published by Harvest House Publishers

*Graphics at beginning of page is from the creator of the website The Old Design Shop.  All credit for the lovely image of mother and child belongs to them.
 

Peace

So, Ben's P.E.T. scan is scheduled for Thursday.  It's such a long, boring process.  We go to the Imaging Center, sit and wait, Ben gets an IV, we sit and wait, Ben is injected with radioactive material, we sit and wait, and then the scan takes 5 minutes.

It's interesting how much technology helps with our lives and health.  The machines that make you freak out, often give doctors the best guidance for paving the road to continued life and health.  

Last Sunday we did not make it to church.  I pulled a muscle badly in my neck, and Ben didn't feel worth a hoot, so I was at my "not up to talking to people" moment.  But, the previous week when I was at church, I was busy crying to God (yet again) and I had a very calming experience.

As we stood and sang a song -- I don't recall which one -- I felt peace wash over me.  It felt like it dropped over me from head to toe, until my breathing became calm and even, and my teary eyes felt clear.  I can't explain it.  But I'm so glad that the LORD of all creation took a moment to wash me with His peace.  

His peace is amazing, and I could probably recount so many times in my life when I was in a state of emotional frenzy that His peace rolled over me.  

So, in advance of this P.E.T. scan, I am at peace.  It's a scan.  It's supposed to help us take the next step in this journey of recovery.  God gave me His peace, so I'm going to take His peace with me into the center Thursday.

Now to build up the courage for my own scan -- a mammogram.  Ick.

No flashback tonight.  I spent most of the day at the local college with one of my older children, so I'm whipped.  I pray God's blessings on those of you reading my blog. :)  He loves you! 

John 14:27 (NASB)
²⁷ Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.

 *Graphics at beginning of page is from the creator of the website Antique Images.  All credit for the beautiful Christmas graphic with the doves belongs to them.