just when you least expect it

My dad is in the hospital. Again. Actually, he has been for a few days now. Everything was going great and he was making progress at the TCU, but then he somehow caught pneumonia and developed a blood clot in his lung. Jeromy and I spoke with my dad over the phone just the night before they re-admitted him and he sounded as well as everyone there had been stating. He seemed the most alert that we've noticed, sounded positive, and even cracked a few jokes! I guess pneumonia can come upon slowly and then hit a person like a hurricane. Needless to say, these events have caused quite a set-back.

The original goal was for my dad to remain at the TCU until his immune system and muscles became strong enough to endure chemo therapy. Now that his lungs are listed as susceptible to blood clots, the TCU will not allow him to return. Presently, they have him in the Telemetry (heart) wing of the hospital to monitor the clot, and then will move him to the cancer floor. Yesterday afternoon Jeromy and I phoned into a re-grouping “care conference” to reassess treatment goals and figure out where to go from here. We are no longer looking at the same goals.

My dad has only grown weaker and is still very thin. Yet, he has been a champion at eating, despite his lack of appetite. He has received ten times better the nutrition than he has over probably the last two decades! Always on the run with his trucking job, he used to consume two meals a day instead of three, and maybe a snack of a Kwik Trip hot dog or McDonald’s hamburger. So to know he is eating three nutritional squares a day was something I had been hoping to play up as encouragement for him to continue. Once we get him eating well, I thought, then his immune system can follow, and then with continued rehab, we can kick this cancer with chemo!

Due to the recent changes, however, it sounds like chemo is no longer the glimmering option we once thought. I am still a little confused on the specific reasoning, but all of a sudden in the care conference we were talking about terms such as “comfort care” and “hospice” instead of palliative care and chemo and getting stronger and going home! The doctor heading up the meeting went as far as to say the chances of taking chemo have since fallen into pretty much the miracle category. And without chemo, unless God seriously intervenes here, my dad has just a few short months left with us.

All this in a matter of a few days! What is the deal here?! Of course, there is no way I am going to give up even the slightest bit of hope I have that my dad can get strong enough to receive treatment. He has just faced a lot of difficult hurdles all at the same time: the cancer itself; major surgery; wound infections; fevers; complete muscle, energy, and appetite loss; and now pneumonia and blood clots. Actually, when you consider all of these things, fact that my dad is still fighting is in itself a miracle! And although I have said in previous posts that we do not place our trust in doctors or rehab or chemo, it is difficult not to question how circumstances which looked even a little optimistic just the other day have so quickly and drastically turned for the worst. I know the story is not over yet, and that anything can happen, but we are naturally discouraged. We are left with a lot of decisions, which are painful no matter how you approach them.

Simply, we are losing a great man who has already dealt with more hardship in his life than a lot of people (although, I know hardship is so extremely relative). I told Jeromy last night that if this is God’s way of quickly taking my dad “home”, I hope God more than restores all of the brokenness he has experienced in his life, even beyond what the average Christian can look forward to. And I know I am talking crazy and out of my head because I know that the least of Heaven will wildly exceed the expectations of every believer combined. Still, I want my dad to draw his first spirit breath assured that every heartache and suffering he ever experienced on earth was worth even that first tastes of Heaven. And I know that’s how it will be. But I still have this overwhelming desire for God to extend bigger grace to him, whatever that even looks like.

Perhaps God also wishes to extend bigger mercy to my dad, and I'm not dismissing the fact that these turn of events could be just that. While I want my dad to stick around and live life as long as possible, I also don’t want to see him go through a lot of pain and misery. If his quality of life is going to be poor, maybe the best thing is for God to take him out of his diseased body and heal him for real. For good. The hardest thing for me is not that my dad could pass away in the near future, it has more to do with watching him struggle through this and not being able to make any of it go away.

And for some reason it has not been easy to pray for my dad. I think there are possibly a couple of variables causing this. For one, there are so very many people all across the nation who continually tell us they are daily lifting my dad up in prayer. Perhaps I am unconsciously using this as a cop-out. It's just easier to let others pray my prayers. The truth is that God can use my prayers too! This is my dad and I should be the one praying the longest and hardest!

As much as I have read and studied (even taken a college theology course), I don’t think I will ever be able to crack the mystery of prayer. God seems to move with or without prayer, in which His will is always carried out. Yet there is no question in my mind that God uses (and probably prefers to use) the prayers of believers as part of the process. What a blessing for Him to have His children come to Him in their time of need! And what a blessing for His children to, in this specific way, take part in God’s plan! We pray for what we want and need with the understanding that God will always do what is best, regardless of how our emotions might bend those prayers.

People from my family’s every acquaintance have bowed the knee on behalf of my dad. I’m sure most are praying for miraculous healing, life-extending control of the disease, quality of life, grace, mercy, or all of the above. Hopefully each of them are also praying for God’s will at the same time. I know am covering all the above, because I don’t know the mind of God in this situation. I only know that God is good and, despite my struggle with faith, I have no doubt that His goodness will reflect in every way regarding His plan for my dad. That’s all I know. And that’s all I should have to know.

The other reason I think prayer for my dad has been tough is because it instantly reveals emotions that are difficult. Distance certainly plays into this. When we were in Minnesota my dad's situation was all I could think about all week, as I had absolutely nothing else to think about. I was allowed to let the circumstances consume me. It was the reason we were there. But now I am a thousand miles away and, while I don't want to become desensitized to what my family is dealing with back home (and the truth is, we are still dealing with it here!), it cannot control my thoughts and energy as before. I still have to work. I still have to concentrate on the tasks at hand and, as difficult as it is, continue to live life here in Maryland.

I have felt torn this way ever since we returned from Minnesota two weeks ago. I fear that if I think too much and allow my heart to actually feel, I will become worthless in my responsibilities and I will feel all the more helpless in that I am here and my family is there. It is easier to just stick with the facts. Keep my emotions at a safe distance since out here I am not given the time nor the freedom I need to fully express them. So I hold back.

In that light, I need prayer. Pray that I might pray for my dad, and that in praying, I might discover the blessing in the process.

I was driving home from work yesterday (shortly after the tele-care conference) thinking about all of these things, while sounds from a CD drifted in and out of my consciousness. Jeromy had received a gift card for CBD for his birthday last month, and he had a little money leftover and wanted me to pick out a CD. I chose the latest offering from Sara Groves, "Tell Me What You Know". I had never actually purchased anything by her before, but I love the radio singles with her thoughtful voice and poignant lyrical style. Well, and she's a fellow Minnesotan, what can I say?

I'm funny about listening to a new CD. If I pop it on in the car I often get stuck on a certain song, so that I keep it on repeat until I know it by heart, having not even finished listening to the rest of the songs! With Sara Groves I got stuck on track #6 because of its easy harmony, and I didn't move beyond track #6 until yesterday's drive home.

I have to be honest that I'm sometimes tempted to lay out a fleece. The whole, 'God, if I do this, You prove you're there by doing this or that'. I know it's old testament and that God doesn't work that way these days, and besides, it shows a lack of faith. In defense, I claim Mark 9:24. I certainly don't mean to do this, and it's usually not serious, but more like a cry out for a little compassion. As I was driving and thinking and half-listening to Sara's soothing melodies, an entirely random thought came into my head, which prompted me to skip to track #9. I just needed something, and I thought maybe there would be a song on the CD that might speak to my family's situation. God's Word encourages, but there are definitely many other way in which He draws near to us. I had no idea that the song for track #9 was called "It Might Be Hope" until I got to the chorus. And while I know that God is always there, I seemed to especially realize it in the three minutes that followed. The lyrics indeed spoke to my heart and turned it to Emmanuel at a much needed moment.

I am becoming more and more of a believer in a God Who pours out His compassion to those who seek it and even to those who need it and are not aware of their need. I have experienced both.


IT MIGHT BE HOPE

You do your work the best that you can
you put one foot in front of the other
life comes in waves and makes it's demands
you hold on as well as your able

You've been here for a long long time

Hope has a way of turning it's face to you
just when you least expect it
you walk in a room
you look out a window
and something there leaves you breathless
you say to yourself
it's been a while since I felt this
but it feels like it might be hope

It's hard to recall what blew out the flame
it's been dark since you can remember
you talk it all through to find it a name
as days go on by without number

You've been here for a long long time

Hope has a way of turning it's face to you
just when you least expect it
you walk in a room
you look out a window
and something there leaves you breathless
you say to yourself
it's been a while since I felt this
but it feels like it might be hope

- Sara Groves

In other news...

My brother, Justin and his wife, Bekka just welcomed their first child into the world on Tuesday, February 26, 2008. Scarlett Kay Nelson was born at 6:35pm central time, weighing 8lb 11oz and measuring 21 inches long. This little one is my parents' first grandchild! (And the pressure is off of us for a while!) We are hoping she will be able to take my dad's mind off his cancer and instead focus his heart on his God and his family.


proud daddy Justin, proud grandma, Linda


Mommy Bekka and baby


Going out in that nasty Minnesota weather! She looks half like Mommy and half like Daddy!


Happy family!


Stealing his heart already!


Finally home!

Another 3-Day Weekend

I'm in the middle of working on other posts but I keep getting side-tracked. Would you believe school children all over Maryland, DC, and Virginia (and the staff at SMCCRC) all get to enjoy yet another snow day?!

Technically, it's a freezing rain day but a day nonetheless, in which I do not need to go into work. Never mind that I have a ton of follow-up calls to complete by the end of the month, not to mention a hefty stack of Spring die cut samples yet to make for new providers. Eh. Cuddling up on the couch in my husband's fleece for a blogging session strikes my fancy a little bit more than interrupting parents who are presently dealing with their kids out of school, only to ask how they might rate our child care referral service! Yes, blogging is much more fun! The Bible is read, the house is clean, and there are leftovers for dinner; any blogger knows what naturally comes next on the list!

I awoke at 5am this morning to check the school closing status of our county. At first St. Mary's didn't make the list. Not even a 2 hour delay! There had been so much hype all week about this treacherous "winter weather" looming across the region that I found it difficult not to get my hopes up. The hype had unfortunately dwindled by last night, so I couldn't assume we would be off today. (Wow, I am so morbid, wishing for dangerously bad weather!) As far as I could tell by looking outside, light rain was all we were getting. Though I realized the unlikeliness of another snow day, I was still disappointed to discover that neighboring Calvert County had closed, but not we. There would be no jumping back in bed for me.

For once Jeromy and I had actually stayed up past 11:00 last night, much later than we normally call it a night. I could have used a few more winks, although I am not one to take naps. Yet I love the fact that it was this culprit, which kept us up! I had made chili for dinner and so we invited company over to share it with us. After our guest left for the evening Jeromy and I spent a few mindless minutes surfing channels on TV, but when we landed on the Weta station I shouted to my husband from the depths of my being, "Stop!!!" And then we didn't move for two whole hours. Now Jeromy's all into it! I figure a girl should get to have her turn, particularly after sitting through every minute of the Lord of the Rings movies. However, since the two of us normally do not stay up past 9pm, we will have to rent us a copy so Jeromy can quit biting his nails in suspenseful wonder of whether Lizzie and Darcy will ever get over themselves and get together! (Is this too freakish, or is this every wife's dream?) He will be quoting lines like the rest of us soon enough! I can see him at work now: "I shall conquer this, I shall!" Sort of a replacement to the Staples' slogan, "That was easy!" However, I don't think I could get used to Jeromy calling me "the handsomest woman of his acquaintance" in public or in private. I may need to restrain his enthusiasm if it gets too out of control!

Back at the ranch...for the purpose of nothing more than rebelling against the realization that I would need to start getting ready for work, I decided to make breakfast and instead continue watching the news and checking the district website. You just never know! I couldn't believe it when I refreshed the screen at 5:30 on the dot to watch the status miraculously change from "Normal" to "Closed". I refreshed the screen a few more times just to be sure I wasn't seeing things. But two minutes later the weather man on the news confirmed the closing. Yippee for icy roads!

I love my job, but I also love days off! I work in a very small office, not even twenty of us. A few of the more middle-aged ladies have - more than once - referred to themselves as the "Pampered Princesses". Now, I have not officially joined their ranks, but I do enjoy a few of the perks!

And on a Friday and non-workout day, too! Oh, they shouldn't have! This meant actual snuggle time in the morning with Jeromy (oh the days before kids!) and even a spontaneous trip to Dunkin' Donuts where we snagged an excellent deal combining coupons with a promotion they are having this week! Plus, the nice cashier allowed me to keep my coupon to use next time and still marked down the price! Whenever does that happen? You would think paying $3.50 for two medium lattes and two donuts would keep anyone permanently out of Starbucks, but these lattes tasted a little too fake for my preference. Yet they served up the necessary latte "fix" and offered the inexpensive novelty of an unexpected early morning coffee date.

Doesn't get much better than that!

dress in layers

Forgive me, but my technologically novice brain just learned how to embed a link, and I ran with it!

As I type, it is a sunny, pleasantly breezy 72 degrees down here in Southern Maryland (capris weather!), and I just came back from a refreshing afternoon spent running errands! Refreshing, in that I'm not stuck all day in that stuffy phone room! But oh, to be sitting right now with my sweetie on the dock at Piney Point Lighthouse, one of our favorite places and actually, the site of our engagement! That would cap the afternoon with perfection! Maybe I'll have to talk him into a short jaunt after dinner. The lighthouse stands almost literally down the road from us!

But wait! Didn't we just have a snow day?!

Normally, I groan when the mercury climbs above 50, and sometimes above 40! I have thus far thoroughly enjoyed wearing long pants and sweaters for the last few months. I'm definitely not ready for the Great Maryland Sweat quite yet! Yet today is just nice.

Winters here are generally short-lived and mild, although sometimes you just never know what you're going to get! As far as this formerly (and happily) frozen Minnesotan is concerned, there are few redeeming qualities of a Southern Maryland "Winter". Only three that I can think of off the top of my head.

For one, the fact that drive through ice cream stands such as Brusters remain open year round. Seriously, every Friday night in January you will see a line of people with zipped-up coats and gloves on, debating between a sundae and a split! And I thought I was the hearty one!

I can label the second quality only slightly redeeming, and that is because it is a quality which, in the summer, I no less than abhor. And that is, damp air. Hallelujah, no static, fly-away hair! Earlier in the month when we were in Minnesota, I dealt with some extremely dry air. I can't believe I had forgotten this vice, which I had encountered and constantly fought with my whole life up until 2 1/2 years ago! The whole week Jeromy asked why I was continually licking my fingers. Well, I didn't exactly carry a spray bottle around on my person, and nobody likes their hair sticking to their neck and chin all day! What was worse, we spent most of our stay in the hospital with my dad, an environment regulated to block all moisture from the air for the purpose of constant sterilization. My hair looked great as I looked in the mirror at the motel every morning, but I quickly and sadly learned that a ponytail would be in order the rest of the day.

NOT so in Southern Maryland! Fly-aways do not survive these wet winters! However, what I won't get into just yet are the nasty, wet-blanket-muggy summers we must suffer through. You will do well to trust me on this. If you do not own a boat or live on the water or both, you are better off staying put exactly where you are!

I alluded to the third redeeming quality of Southern Maryland Winters when I mentioned our raging blizzard of a snow day last Thursday. One measly inch! If that. And the last flake fell long before the light of day! Inclement weather, ha! It snowed every single day we spent in Minnesota, with conditions at least 10 times worse than here! But of course, the Midwest is much better prepared for that sort of weather, so I guess I can't poke fun TOO horribly at the sissies who live here.

The best part about the Great Valentine's Day White Out was that every last bit of snow melted by the end of the day, with high daytime temperatures reaching 50 degrees! I LOVE the fact that Southern Marylanders can't deal with snow! I don't even care if that puts me into the sissy category if it means I get to play hooky!

Now, I don't know who came up with the policy that should county schools ever delay or close that my office follows suit, but I have absolutely no complaints whatsoever! This was our first official snow day of the winter, although we were delayed two hours one morning a couple of months ago (of which I was oblivious to until I pulled into an empty parking lot at work and at which point I doodled around for the two whole hours before even considering starting up the copy machine!). Most often the schools close due to ice (but they flinch at the very rumor of white stuff all the same), just because we tend to get more freezing rain than snow. Ice does scare me, but I am more afraid of other people on the road who freak out and can become reckless in that state of mind. If I were Governor O'Malley, I would close schools not so much because of actual snow or ice, but because of the drivers!

What I find absolutely ironic is that last year on the very same day we got blasted with an ice storm. And it weren't no "glistening tree" icicle, either. Nobody should have been forced to go out in that skating rink; yet for some twisted reason, the governor chose to keep school in session! The weather only worsened as the day progressed. When it was finally time to leave the office I went outside to chisel my door open and scrape the windows. Had I known better I would have left early like half my co-workers, even without pay! Der!

I have to say, I'm a little paranoid about locking my keys in my car, and especially while it's running. (It's happened before!) It's so easy to accidentally press the "lock" button and not realize it, so I rarely shut the door if the keys are in the ignition. However, I have since learned to keep a spare key in my purse....but what if the purse is also in the car? (Also happened before!) Anyway, my paranoia kicked in while I was out there scraping away in the whipping wind and dangerously slippery parking lot. I just about finished when I lost my footing. My arms went up to insinctively grab the open door for support, but my head was quicker and my right temple slammed into the sharp corner of the door. I about lost consciousness, the side of my head went numb, and of course, the site of the wound started bleeding.

Long story short, I rushed home as safely as possible in that mess (head pounding all the way), and Jeromy insisted I visit the ER. We ended up staying there for FOUR hours that night because of so many people with ice-related accidents that kept coming in. There went Valentine's Day!

I know it can be difficult to predict how weather conditions will actually go down (no pun intended) but I can't for the life of me figure out why they didn't close schools last year with that crazy ice storm, and why they did close this year, which seemed like an unwise decision, with conditions clearing up by daybreak. Of course, I'm still not complaining, only wishing that I could have been spared that ER visit last year. It had cost me not only the four miserable hours, but a $50 co-pay and a tetanus shot to boot!

But while, under more typical circumstances, I breathe deeply of our Winters, today it is Spring. And a holiday, at that! I am not sure why lucky me gets all the federal holidays off while my husband has to slave away at his desk, but I am quite grateful for these few hours to not only catch up on that to-do list, but simply to rest and enjoy the day. (I have to force myself most of time!) The last few weeks especially have been a stressful whirlwind for us and, though a labor of love for my family, President's Day came just in time! Through our screen door I can hear the wind blowing, birds chirping, and neighborhood kids playing outside. You can take Southern Maryland in the summer, but I'll take today!

I can only hope for another snow day!

whispering hope

All I want to do is write a fun, light-hearted post, but I can't ignore the fact that my dad has terminal cancer, and that it has so greatly impacted our lives over the past two weeks. Try as I may, it cannot be ignored.

Our trip to Minnesota was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Although we went to support and help my family in any and every way possible (and hopefully achieved that goal), the majority of the time we spent there I felt numb and helpless. I could not cry in the presence of my dad. Either that or I just refused. I did not want him to see my fear, nor cause him to focus any more on the negative. All of this has been so very hard for us as it is.

We spent most of our time at the hospital, but rented a room at the Super 8 to provide the opportunity to get away and re-group at the end of each day. This proved to be a good choice. We think our rental car may have worn a permanent trail on the road leading from the motel to the hospital. Back and forth. Get up early, stay up late. Run, run, run! Go, Jane, go!

Let me take a moment to just say how amazing my husband has been through all of this. Last week my dad repeatedly referred to Jeromy as a "tower of strength". Once we heard that my dad would not be returning to work, Jeromy volunteered to help look into early retirement. We quickly realized how unprepared my parents were for any event remotely of this size and that this would become more of a project than we bargained for. Still, Jeromy worked tirelessly to get everything sorted out and set up. We are back in Maryland and STILL working on the financial situation. (SO overwhelming.) I am extremely grateful for such a supportive, compassionate, and resourceful man who is willing to take on a load such as this for his father-in-law. He allowed me to spend much needed time just sitting with my dad while he ran ragged collecting a million official documents and applying my dad to every single available service. He is, indeed, a tower of strength.

It was absolutely fantastic to see familiar faces appear now and again at the door of my dad's room. Besides his immediate family, my dad had at least two or three different visitors every single day! Some of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time! It was nice to not have to drive all over the state to see so many family and friends, as is normally the case when we come to visit. This time everyone drove to see us! If there was one, the visitors were probably the highlight of the trip. As each visitor turned to leave I tried to stress how much of an encouragement it was for them to come, and to make sure they understood the seriousness of my dad's condition. Without being specific I was hoping they would consider paying another visit in the near future, whether in the hospital or elsewhere. To continue the support they have so far personally and publicly given. He needs it. I would be there if I could.

Probably the most difficult moment was seeing my dad for the first time. He used to be ripped. Every single day of his post-Navy existence, he has done his push-ups. He might have missed a day here and there due to an occasional case of the flu, but my dad's faithful morning push-up routine could squash the best of the best! Seeing my dad in the hospital, though, I could tell his push-ups have long since taken a sabbatical. In fact, he told us that he hasn't exercised in over two months! That should have been a sure sign something was up, although he didn't get checked out until weeks later. It was absolutely horrible to see my dad looking the way he did, especially that first night. He has lost literally every ounce of his muscle, and his skin looked like his mother's (my grandmother's) skin well into her 80's. The person I saw in that hospital bed was not my dad, but reality has it that it was and is.

The short of my dad's prognosis is that cancer will take his life. The doctors were quite clear that he has advanced stage 4 colon cancer, and because it has already devoured 3/4 of his liver and has spread to even other organs, no amount of drug therapy can cure this monster. My dad will receive what they call "palliative" care, which will involve chemo to hopefully stop future spread of the cancer cells, and even possibly shrink some of what is already there. Basically a life-prolonging method.

According to the doctors, my dad has 6-8 months to live if he decides against chemo treatment. With chemo, however, and depending on how his system responds to the drug, he could potentially live another 2-3 years. Either way, the news is hard to take.

I realize God still works miracles, and I believe that He has both power and ability to heal my dad completely, but I also know that He most often does not work beyond or in spite of natural processes. I believe God could very well prolong my dad's life beyond what the doctors project. Yet, if God were to completely heal my dad this side of heaven, there are many intricate smaller miracles that would need to transpire within the bigger one for that to happen.

For instance, the major surgery my dad underwent just before our arrival forced the surgeon to remove 9 out of 20 feet of his colon for the reason that the blockage of perhaps 6 or more months had built up an unbelievable pressure and had caused the colon to literally burst open on the operating table. Yeah. Not pretty. It's not like he can grow back 9 feet of colon! Also, the fact that the cancer is already stage 4 (the highest stage and the fastest spreading) implies "point of no return". A body can safely live on 1/4 of a liver, but it is difficult for me to believe that can last for very long without complications.

Another huge hurdle my dad needs to overcome (and before any of this chemo can start) is recovering from surgery itself. He needs to be at least a good 6-7 weeks completely recovered before his blood cells and immune system can take another harsh blow. As it is, my dad was in the hospital for 2 full weeks, and just yesterday he needed a blood transfusion. They finally discharged him, though because of recent infection his wounds have not yet healed. Also, there are still huge amounts of swelling, and he has yet to regain some sort of appetite. Since the surgery, he has been forcing food down his throat, so that it takes him nearly an hour to finish a meal instead of the typical 5 or so minutes it used to take him to polish off a couple good helpings. So he has a long way to go.

All this to say he should have been out of the hospital a week ago, but for these hinderances . And by "out of the hospital" I don't mean "at home". The next stepping stone for my dad is a Transitional Care Unit (TCU). This is basically a rehab facility where he will continue physical therapy and also begin occupational therapy, until he is strong enough and capable of living at home and caring for his wounds and ostomy bags. (There are two bags, due to the discarded portion of the colon.) My parents have already chosen a TCU, one that is within walking distance for my mom. In fact, he was just transfered there this afternoon. Part of the facility is a nursing home, but we are trying to steer everyone away from using that term so my dad doesn't get the feeling we are putting him "out to pasture". That's just the way these places opperate. Most serve several purposes. But yes, old fogies also live there. And regardless, this is a temporary situation. Yet, it is only after my dad serves adequate time at the TCU can anyone even begin to think about chemo. Long, long road.

There are so many questions our human hearts beg to ask:

*Why did my dad endure 6 whole months of nasty symptoms before even considering getting checked out?
*And, with the unbelievably steep health insurance premium he was paying every month, why did he never pursue regular physicals?
*Why did he refuse long and short-term disability through his company?
*Why don't my parents have life insurance?
*Why has my dad always chosen to remedy the immediate need instead of looking to the future?
*Why didn't he look into VA benefits from the start?
*Why did he allow a lay-off from a job he was good at to force him into a trucking job with erratic, unhealthy hours?

But we really can't ask, and when it comes down to it, we really don't want to. The worst thing we could do is to resent my dad for causing this mess. What good would that do? Sure, there are some better choices he could have made in his life, but he only did what he thought was best at the time. He is not perfect, and I cannot say I would have done any better! The truth is that cancer is part of my dad's life, and we can only look to today and pray for tomorrow.

(However, what I will say in light of the above questions is that we certainly learned a BIG lesson with regard to planning for the future! DO IT!)

Of course, my dad's life is in God's hands, no matter how you look at it. His days have been numbered since Eternity past, as with each of us. Cancer is God's will for my dad, whether he had caught it a year or two earlier, or whether he had delayed getting checked out even longer, in which case his colon could had exploded internally and left him to die on the spot.

It is what it is and we can only look forward with hope. The assuring, redeeming kind of hope.

More than our concern for my dad's physical condition is our concern for his spiritual. You spend one minute with the man and you can see depression all over his face. And for good reason. He is dealing with major change in his life. However, he did seem to perk up whenever anyone would stop by. But he won't read, including the Word, and that is troubling to me. I just hope some person will come alongside him and mentor him through this. Point him repeatedly back to Christ. That is his most pressing need right now. It is hard to believe that a man so extremely intelligent in matters of theology as he, can allow this trial, painful and scary as it may be, to get him this down. He is a child of the King, after all! In fact, while looking for certain documents at the house, we ran across his college doctrine notes from the 1970's, and I'm talking whole drawers full! This is his time to finally learn to live out the theology he claims to know. What good is knowledge unless it is useful?

Whatever we believe about God's will, we know that this path is chosen for us. We must take it because going back is not an option. This time in my family's life is designed to bring us closer to Him and to give us new ways in which to serve as God's "hands and feet". My dad's old college roommate offered my dad a wonderful statement while stopping in for a visit last week. He said, "Gary, this cancer is not all about you. This cancer is certainly an opportunity for God to extend His grace to you, but this cancer is also for you to allow that grace to flow to others by the testimony of your faith, both to Christians and non-Christians, to family, friends, nurses, doctors, and to those you have yet to meet."

And so it is with me and everyone else remotely touched my dad's cancer. I know that this is his fight of faith, but I wish I could help him believe that all this is for God's glory, and that he shouldn't waste this opportunity to live out God's grace. These are tough issues, and I struggle daily with them myself. I just hope he "gets" this message, and sooner rather than later.

Right now my dad is operating on empty. We keep trying to encourage him and bring Water to his dry Spirit, but what he does with all of that is solely up to him. We can't make him read his Bible, pray, or meditate on spiritual truths. All I know is that if my dad can firmly grasp these concepts, there is great potential for the next few days, weeks, months, and hopefully years to becoming the very best of his life and his closest walk with the Lord. THIS is the kind of miracle I am hoping and praying for!!!

Chemo or not, we trust in Christ! He is the hope of our salvation and our Rock!

"Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call" (Psalm 20:6-9).

*****

For anyone who would like to send my dad a note, below is the address. Also, if you are ever in the neighborhood, my dad would love a visit. He is currently staying at St. Louis Park Plaza. I've also listed that address below.

Gary Nelson
3341 Zinran Avenue South
St. Louis Park, MN 55426

St. Louis Park Plaza
3201 Virginia Ave S
Minneapolis, MN 55426
(952) 935-0333

praying for you

I often have a hard time coming up with the right words to encourage someone who is hurting. I feel my words are never meaningful enough, or that they sound cliche, and I always want to do so much more than offer my love and prayer. I wish I could say I've "been there", that I know what they are going through, but I really can't because everyone's pain is entirely different. So I normally just feel at a loss.

Well, just I learned for the first time in my life that all those words I have spoken to many individuals over the years really have mattered. I now know without a doubt that they were heard and that they made more of a difference in those people's lives than I ever would have guessed.

The words of support and encouragement I have received over the last few days have been priceless. I'm sure many who heard about my dad feel the same as I, that their words are meager and trite, and lost among similar sentiments of others. If that is true of anyone, they couldn't be more wrong. Every single word offered has touched me both deeply and uniquely. To know that prayers are being lifted for my family in places all across the country (from Colorado, to Maryland, to Florida, to Hawaii!!!) has in itself sustained me. Words like "praying for you" might sound repetitive (as I've often thought, having numerously used that phrase) but I tell you, each word renews my hope and reminds me of God's mercy. You all remind me that my family is far from alone in this and that the Body still comes through for its weakened, ailing limb.

I will no longer feel discouraged the next time all I can think of to say is "I am sorry. I will pray for you. I am here for you." These are the words our human hearts really need to hear the most. I am grateful for everyone who has reached out to us in this way, both those who have voiced their support and those who simply and quietly pray. God will continue to use both to get us through this time.

I do not know what the week in Minnesota will look like. I wish this could be a pleasure trip, especially since I only get out there once or twice a year. But this trip is not for me. I know that my dad needs people around him as much as possible to keep his spirits up and to offer encouragement that he can draw from on occasions when he is left alone to his thoughts. He is still very down, often wondering what the future will hold. And that is very natural, yet everyone is trying to get him to focus on today and not tomorrow. We all need to live this way, and hopefully he will begin to understand that. We can't skirt the circumstances or pretend the cancer doesn't exist, but we can at least continue to point him to his hope in Christ.

We would like to get John Piper's "The Blazing Center" DVD series to hopefully foster the eternal perspective he so desperately needs. I know that "stuff" we give him won't heal his body. All we can do is encourage him with hope in Christ.

Today I talked to my dad on the phone for the first time since he went into the hospital. The phone is difficult for me. I didn't know what to say, and I heard myself saying, "uh-huh" a lot. He didn't talk much either. He definitely sounded weak and almost delirious. I could tell he is still in shock over the whole thing. I really didn't want to talk to him over the phone. It's just not the same as being there, especially since I knew I would freeze up like I did. But my mom asked if I wanted to talk to him while she was next to him so I had no choice. "Do you want to talk to your dad? Huh???" What was I supposed to say? No?

I have been an emotional roller coaster over the last 48 hours. I have to tell myself not to think about my dad all the time or I wouldn't be able to function. On the other hand, I don't want to go about life as though nothing is happening. I'm just torn, and every other minute my frame of mine is different. I realize that I need to keep on living, just like my dad needs to, but it's not easy to do both. At times I don't feel I have the right to laugh, or watch a fun movie, or eat a yummy dessert. I'm not supposed to be doing those things - my dad is sick! And yet I know I it is probably the best thing for me to especially enjoy these things because I have to live with hope too. I can't tell my dad to do one thing and than I do another. I can't take his pain for him by living in doom and gloom. I need to set the example.

But...but...but...regardless of any encouragement we give him, reality continues to stand that my father has terminal cancer. What does one DO with that??????

Dad Update

Thank you all for the prayer support. It is invaluable to us.

The doctors performed surgery on my dad yesterday. His colon burst once they opened him up, due to the tumor blockage and unbelievable pressure, so the doctors had to create not one, but two colostomies, one on each side of his stomach. The cancer is too severe in both his colon and liver and it is too late to remove. He will most likely go through chemo and/or radiation to prolong his life.

My father has always been one to avoid going to the doctor because he either thought whatever he was feeling would "go away" or he was afraid of what they would find. Well here we go. The good news (if there is any) is that, should he have gone in 6 months earlier when the abdominal pain first started, the cancer may have still been almost as severe. In fact, they say he may have had it for two whole years and never knew it! My brother likened colon cancer to a "thief in the night" that forms without much symptom at first. Of course, had my dad received regular physicals, they may have caught it before it became of too much. But we can't look back in regret because he is at this point, and we can't change that.

My dad is very discouraged right now. He thought he was just going to get a colonoscopy a couple days ago to test for thyroid issues and be on his way, and now his life is changed forever. Doctors say that if he hadn't come in he wouldn't have lasted until next Christmas. So that's another praise, I guess. I need to keep that perspective.

This man has already had a rough life, and I just hate to see him go through even more. He is 64 and was planning on retiring in October, but I guess this will push things up a bit. He has always been anxious about money, and has already been voicing concern about paying for the medical bills. Please pray that my dad would just concentrate on living, and trust God to take care of everything else. He needs peace right now. He doesn't need to be dwelling on negative thoughts.

Pray for the rest of my family also, especially my mom. This will be a new life for them and everyone is still in shock. It is crazy how life can throw a curve just like that. Yet this didn't surprise God, and my prayer is that all this will strengthen their faith, and mine.

Jeromy and I leave for Minnesota Monday morning, for a week. I didn't want to use accrued leave time because we had also recently purchased airfare to spend a week in Minnesota at the end of May. Go figure. I do have 3 personal days in addition to annual leave, and I am also allowed leave without pay, and will use both. This will also allow us to keep our plans to go back in May. Time will tell how things will be by then. Hopefully better, in spite of everything.

Pray for God to sustain us during this visit, and that we will have the right words to say and the strength to help out wherever needed.



Above: Dad reading one of my favorite Golden Books!
Below: My wedding! (My brother Justin, dad Gary, & mom Linda Nelson with the love birds)

Blessed be the name of the Lord

My dad has cancer.

Coke and not water

People are funny. Funny things happen. I like funny stories, especially if they are real. This is one of them.

Not too long into the beginning of our relationship, Jeromy and I visited a quaint little Vietnamese restaurant in our little (minus the quaint) county. I really wasn't a fan of Asian food until I met Jeromy. I can seriously count on one hand the number of times I had ever eaten at an Asian restaurant B.J. (Before Jeromy). And La Choy chow mein doesn't count. My mom made me eat it. I highly dislike water chestnuts.

Once Jeromy and I started dating I quickly developed a taste for Asian food, and now we regularly make dishes like Thai curry chicken and other types of stir fly. (If only we had registered for that wok at BB&B!) Thai is our favorite, bar none. Jeromy is the curry freak. I'll eat it, but the fish sauce gives me horrible nausea. I'm a less traditional Asian food lover. I won't get anywhere near menu items that include duck, rabbit, sushi, or squid. I always make sure they leave the onions off my Pad Thai (I enjoy water chestnuts better than onions...texture, texture!). Regardless, Jeromy is a well-rounded fellow when it comes to international cuisine, and it has since rubbed off on me. Although, he can keep his predilection for Indian food! He will have to work on me a little longer for that one.

Upon arriving at the Hot Noodle, the hostess proceeded to seat us in their signature high-backed booths (go privacy!), and we began to scour the menu for something to drink. Normally Jeromy and I order water whenever we eat out, just because it saves on both the bill and tip, and besides that the natural thirst quencher always wins over less healthy varieties like pop (yes, I'm from the Midwest, but West Virginians also say pop, so I learned from marrying one!), which we rarely consume.

This particular evening, however, Jeromy couldn't resist the option of ordering a tall glass of coconut water. The Vietnamese place serves it with actual chunks/shavings of coconut floating in the beverage. I tried it and it's pretty good, though not very sweet. We decided on drinks and waited for our server, setting in for a romantic evening of looking longingly into each other's eyes (oh, the days before sitting on the same side of the booth!).

Our server never came.

Now, there are two kinds of servers in this world (rarely have we encounter a balanced exception): "Annoying Little Sister", the stops-by-your-table-and-asks-how-you're-doing-every-30-seconds server, who asks how the food tastes before you have time to take a single bite. And then we have "Houdini", the-takes-your-order-and-disappears-into-the-night (or falls into a boiling vat of "Tom Ka Gai") server, who brings your food and bill at the same time. Well, that night we endured a big bag of tricks from the latter.

Moments before severe dehydration set in, we managed to flag Mr. Houdini to our table. (He finally noticed our cartwheels and jumping jacks from the other side of the room.) Although barely able to talk due to his poor parched throat, Jeromy managed to request his favorite beverage.

We enjoyed a few more minutes of beautiful company, complete with much under the table hand-holding.

Miracle of miracles, Houdini was back in a flash, holding up a tall, refreshing glass of....Coke?

"No, no...I'm sorry, " Jeromy tried to be polite. "I actually asked for coconut water."

"Oooooh. Ok! Be back." Even Houdini fails once in a while.

*Resume more googly-eye hand-holding.*

Houdini returned. And you wouldn't believe it, holding another glass of Coke! But...without ice.

We looked at each other in confusion. What was up with this guy? They must receive orders for dozens of glasses of coconut water every day.

"Uh, sir, I wanted COCONUT water." Jeromy tried a third time. "Cooooconu-----waaaaait a minute. No, no, no, I DON'T want Coc-a-cola with or without ice. I want co-co-nut wa-ter."

So that was it! Houdini thought Jeromy wanted Coke, and then he thought the "not water" part meant no ice! Coke and not water!

Jeromy finally received the real coconut water as requested, but we are still scratching our heads trying to figure out how a server at an Asian restaurant could mistake "coke and not water" for the novel coconut water! The events of this dinner date has since turned into a running joke between us, especially the few times Jeromy actually does order a Coke -- and not water!

sugar and spice and everything nice

Yesterday we had a young friend visit us for dinner. (Which means all that homemade pizza is long gone!) Jeromy met Chris about 3 years ago while Chris worked at the Coffee Quarter (the place Jeromy and I met). They started having spiritual conversations, and on occasion Chris would meet with Jeromy for a sort of Bible study. Since then, our contact with Chris has been random (this is a SMALL county; it's likely to run into everybody we know at some place or other at least once a year). He's a great young man, very polite, but also very secular. We don't have people in our home terribly often, and since pizza is a pretty universal favorite food, we thought we would ask him over.

We had a fun night of visiting. Ate too much, looked on www.somd.com for a table and chair set for Chris, and listened to a little Derek Webb. (We had been talking about the campaign year, and wanted Chris to listen to "Savior on Capitol Hill" for kicks. Complete satire, but so true.) Then I used our guest as an excuse to break out the brownie mix. (But really, who needs an excuse for that?!) and we ate....some more. I had been trying out different from-scratch brownie recipes I found on www.allrecipes.com but haven't found the winner yet. In the meantime, the box mix never lets me down.

Jeromy and I have a few friends here in Southern Maryland, but to be honest, not that many. And it seems they are all guys. You got Chris, Joe, and Mark. We really don't hang out with too many other people, outside of church (and we have found true fellowship doesn't actually happen at church...but that's a topic for another blog). Let me emphasize that I am so grateful for the friends God has given us, and the opportunities we have had to share experiences and talk about our faith. What I am missing is girl talk.

Jeromy and I used to be a part of a young adult Sunday School class, which consisted of mainly married couples, and about 3/4 of them with children. Some were our age and some were older. Over the last quarter we switched to a different Sunday School because we felt we weren't getting to know other people in the church. All the other classes scrambled the groups every couple months or so, and we felt there were so many faces that we recognized, but individuals we didn't know much about.

So we switched. A part of me missed the old group because they were our peers or close to it, but the other part of me enjoyed learning about this new group, at least as deep as we could one hour once a week (again, another blog!). Now we are at the end of another Sunday School quarter, and Jeromy and I will most likely go back to the young couples class.

There are a few girls in the group who I could get together with, but the events I seem to plan (and I make sure to give a lot of notice!) rarely provide a good turnout. Maybe people like more spontaneity, I don't know. But the point is, I struggle with getting together with my female peers for anything. It seems like people don't want to add anything extra to weekday evenings. I can empathize with that, just because we go to bed so early (we stink, yeah). But it seems that the guys we hang out with more readily agree to come by for a visit, or to meet somewhere for coffee or whatever. Maybe it is because those guys are single...I dunno.

There are a few ladies Bible studies organized by our church, but they are mid-morning on a weekday. And even then, those who attend those studies are SAHMs or older ladies. I do desire spending time with women older than me because they have a wealth of wisdom to draw from. But I also need that "same boat" type connection with someone my age and who can relate to my stage in life. It's just been hard to find that.

Sometimes it's difficult to go on Facebook and see all my friends from college. I realize many of them may be facing a similar dry spell. When I go on there I catch a glimpse of what used to be and it feels like we are all together again, even though we're not. It makes me wish we all lived close by because we would never lack for people to get together with. But they live THERE. I live here. Facebook is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with family and friends, but I will never "do life" with those people. Only those in my Southern Maryland sphere.

Which makes me think about the singles group at our church. They are ALWAYS participating in some activity or another. So is that what this is? Is this something that happens when one goes from being single to being married? Are married people less likely to hang out with other couples because of responsibilities they have now but didn't have while single? If that is true, I don't like it. Maybe I have to accept it but I feel like it shouldn't HAVE to be this way. We all need relationships with others outside our families at every place in life. But how will that realistically happen, now that I am married?

Maybe this is just a season in my life where I have to learn to be content without much girl-to-girl interaction. I'll keep trying, though. Maybe it's just a matter of timing.

Red Light, Green Light

On the way home from work the other night, a movement just up ahead in the sky caught my attention A massive flock of starlings were stretched across what seemed like the entire sky, fluttering like a giant ribbon. Whether just beginning their annual journey South or continuing on, their goal was unmistakable. From what I’ve noticed, Southern Maryland fowl tend to receive the “moving day memo” much later than those in my home state of Minnesota, the latter varieties mostly long past the mason-dixon line by the beginning of November. Here in the mid-Atlantic, the migration seems to occur in spurts over a period of months. Just when you think all those loud Canadian geese have left the premises, you are rudely awakened early one Saturday morning to a chorus of out of tune, insensitive shrieking. Who needs the annoying neighbor?

This particular late afternoon I found the birds fascinating. Their ability to swiftly and efficiently maneuver about the open sky seemed a slap in the face to us road-raging, vehicular commuters. No stop light, blinker, or speed limit necessary. Instinct would keep them safe to their destination, even taking weather conditions into account better than we! Where they thrive, we make a mess. Oh to exist as perfectly in accordance with the Creator as these feathered creatures!

Such sightings as these always leave me in wonder. I could just barely make out the head of the flock many miles beyond my little Alero, but the trail seemed to infinitely flow into the distance, the end nowhere in sight. There were just SO many birds! Usually I see the typical dozen or so flying off in that signature “greater than” sign, so to observe thousands upon thousands of little starlings all at once was nothing short of breathtaking. This was one of those “God sightings” that leave your jaw hanging and you mind swimming with “how” questions.

Moments like these can sure bring a gloriously fresh sense of perspective! So then why do I so often over look them? I'll tell you why. My typical day is filled to the brim with chore and duty and self-groping. I spend most of it in a tunnel; in my little world. And most people do. Therefore, it is extremely refreshing to occasionally notice something so outside and beyond myself where, in an instant, I lose my bitter attitude and even possibly bid farewell to a pity party. (The food and music are never good at those anyway.) At times these instances come in the form of majestic creation, such as our migration phenomenon. Other times they appear as a deep red-orange sunrise, or as the refreshingly crisp scent of Fall, or as a myriad of sparkling tree branches the morning after a vigorous ice storm.

Nature seems to have a way; or rather, God tends to use nature in such a way that seems to brings Himself into the sphere of our senses. These things remind us Whose world this is. These things cause us to realize our appointed stewardship to both care for and appreciate this world, the desired outcome being His greatness and our delight springing from our hearts. Perspective, indeed. Most of the time my world is so small that I am the only one who fits into it. And even when God catches my attention, such as in the form of a rainbow, a juicy orange, or the beautiful face of my husband, the moment flees before I consciously capture it and make something more of it, before I can make it linger, before I fully embrace the GOD of all things glorious.

Yet God continues to display His greatness to us in these ways, whether we take hold of them or not. I think perhaps the reason these moments seem to occur most often on the road is simply for the lack of distraction. It is just the wheels and the driver, and often a few Christian radio tunes, which tend to steer my thoughts heavenward anyway (no pun intended). This is a time when I absolutely cannot do anything else but think, within the realm of highway vigilance, of course!

It’s funny how I am thinking about all of these things, and this very morning on the way to work the Christian radio host asked listeners to call in and tell about an extraordinary God-experience within their ordinary life. I had just flipped on the radio while they were in midst of this discussion. Coincidence? I don’t think so. The man on the phone described an instance where, over the Christmas holiday, he was to meet his family at a famous live nativity display in Pennsylvania. For some reason he faced a few obstacles earlier in the day so that he thought he for sure would not make it all the way across the state in time to be with his family. He began to drive anyway. About halfway there he noticed that he was hitting all the green lights which, in his experience, rarely happens. He usually catches all the red lights. (Boy, can I sympathize!) The caller’s point was that God’s grace allowed him to make it to the display in time to share the special evening with his family. “God was in the green lights!” And I would agree with that, as God is certainly just as sovereign over details as He is over major events. I would even say that God's presence goes way too often unnoticed in these cheery moments.

I love it, though, what the radio host stated in response. “And we have to remember that God is also in the red lights.” Oh how we despise those red lights! I tend to break out in hives at red lights. And it seems there is always some 18-wheeler or school bus in the front of the line, making it impossible to get a quick “pick up” once the light finally turns. Red lights force me to slow down and even have the nerve to force me to stop! Why I never take red lights into account when I plan my day is beyond me. Why wouldn’t I expect them? Why do I sulk when it takes me a measly five extra minutes to get into work? Red lights are a part of life.

The truth is that most of us see red more than green. In every aspect. We face the difficult way more than the easy. What is easy, is for me to think God is not in those red lights. I would rather He not be. I would rather not view God as Someone who sovereignty places obstacle and discomfort into our lives and messes up our perfectly efficient schedules. But I’ll say most of the time that is the only way He can flag us down long enough to get across our numb skulls, “Hellllllooooo! Who’s in control here?!” My guess is that He probably enjoys using sunsets and flowers to get our attention more often than broken bones and traffic jams, green lights more than red. And yet, he is still in all of it.

Lately, when God reveals His greatness in the form of gorgeous displays, such as he did the other days with the birds, I have been prompted to pray for those around me who might be seeing the same thing. I pray that those who do not know God will see Him here, in this thing. Whether in the bright sunshine of a pleasant day, or in the striking contrast of a looming storm cloud, I figure these moments are not for my benefit only. I am also beginning to do the same thing whenever I see a car accident scene, or hear an ambulance siren from my apartment. I pray that others will see God and His grace in those situations as well, whatever the outcome.

But honestly, I need more prayer for myself than I pray for everybody else! I miss so very many green and red light moments that I don’t allow God to show up in my life nearly as much as I need Him to. Why does it have to take a big display of some sort for me to know He is there and that He is working? Why does my response to God depend on whether or not the outcome seems favorable to me? Why do I consistently resist red lights in my life and embrace only green ones, if I embrace them at all?

Sometimes I believe that if I didn’t have to work so much, or that if my commute to work were shorter, or if I weren’t so tired, or if life weren’t so stinking hard I would be able to nurture a closer relationship with God and let Him work in my life. I wish for some sort of Eden or something. While I definitely won’t find that here in this flesh, I have to remember that I can at least catch glimpses of it in the green lights and savor those moments. And in red lights I can hold on and drink fully of the reality that these moments prepare me for Eden.

Perhaps the green lights are meant to grant us hope for the red, as reminders that another green light is not too far off. After all, every red light eventually turns green.

Something to Look Forward to

What keeps you going?

I have found that if I have something in the future to anticipate, the daily grind isn't so bad. All I need is a countdown of days, and I can make it. Whether it's a concert, road trip, day off of work, or just a coffee date with my husband, I'm almost always looking ahead to something. Even if the day is months away, the prospect of something fun or meaningful to look forward to helps me stay focused on the moments at hand. Which, actually sounds weird because one would think the anticipation of something would lead to distraction. Yet, that is how it is for me.

However, as much as I would not like to admit it, it seems it is the anticipation, more than the occasion or event itself, which brings the most joy. I have always wished it were the other way around, that the actual event or occasion anticipated would surpass the anticipation, but that seems to rarely happen. I have come to wonder if maybe that is because the anticipation is meant as an analogy of something spiritual. Our longing for heaven, perhaps?

Maybe God does not want us to find our satisfaction here, for these short 80 years. Maybe we try to. Our finite minds cannot fathom the joy of Eternity. As our hearts remain always waiting and hoping for something better, always something more spectacular around the next corner (and mine always does), we find only continued anticipation, conscious or not, for the ultimate culmination of joy found only in and with God Himself. And that continued anticipation can be easily mistaken for disappointment when, really, it ought to urge us to praise God for not allowing things of this world to satiate us like only God can.

Maybe that's why the days leading up to December 25th are always brimming with excitement as we think about how perfect everything is going to be, but then when Christmas Day rolls around we usually experience little more than wrapping paper messes; stomachaches; possible extended family quarrels; and, despite myriads of gifts received, emptiness in our hearts. 'Did we miss the point?' we ask ourselves. 'Did we forget about some meaningful tradition? Did we forget to light the candles? What happened?' Yes, culture and the world can steal our hearts away from the humble approach Mary and Joseph took to celebrate the birth of the Messiah so that we do miss the point. (Although, I don’t recommend sitting down to Christmas dinner in a barn!) Amidst all our planning for perfection, we sometimes forget that we live in a very imperfect world, and our minds often paint unrealistic pictures of life.

Yet at the same time, there is something to be said about the joy of anticipation, even on occasions when our hearts are indeed right (and, in the event of Christmas, commercialism doesn’t get the best of us). The fact is, this is not home. We really are pilgrims. No holiday, birthday bash, or ski trip could ever top what is in store for the believer! There will come a time when we will experience perfection, but that will never be here!

Knowing we are made for a far better place and a heart that is fully healed, does this then mean we should cease to enjoy life as we know it? Should we just lie down and silently wait with inactivity for our redemption? Well, is that what we do between Thanksgiving and Christmas? No, preparations are made to build the excitement! The tree gets trimmed, the presents wrapped, and the cards sent. Why should we act any differently during this time of eternal expectation? This journey is part of the joy we await!

For that matter, what does an engaged couple spend time doing before their union? Take my wedding as an example. One of my favorite seasons of expectancy took place the first weeks following our engagement. How much fun it was to check out a dozen wedding books and magazines from the library, and to sit for hours in a Barnes & Noble, snapping countless pictures of cute flower and table arrangements from decorating books with my camera phone. How exciting it was to choose colors, scribble up guest lists, and wade through beautiful music arrangements! It starts once the ring is on her finger, or at least that moment in the dressing room at the bridal shop when she tries on that first dress. The possibilities are endless, and immediately she begins to imagine walking down the isle. Time and time again she pictures the face of her groom grinning broadly from the front of the church. A bride-to be’s mind is constantly preoccupied with visions of the actual wedding day, when all the preparations, plans, and dreams finally come together.

The day finally comes and it is exquisitely wonderful and breathtaking, just like she imagined….almost. And yet that “almost” takes absolutely nothing away from the beauty and perfection of the day, however it happens to go down. The sweet anticipation was actually part of the wedding day. For that matter, the entire package: meeting, first date, first kiss, every subsequent date, engagement, wedding planning (although most of it, tedious and stressful!); and the dreaming, hoping, wishing, thinking, pursuing, creating, loving – all of it – as well as the dress, pictures, processional, vows, pronouncement, and honeymoon. Nothing is exclusive and all of it contains the joy of anticipation.

It has been more than a year after my own wedding, and the anticipation still remains. Every day is new and full of expectation. Life keeps going, we keep growing and moving on to our destination: Eternity. It only makes sense that we keep waiting for something greater to come along because there is something greater. It hasn’t come yet because we are still wearing this flesh and walking this dirt. The anticipation we experience in this life provides us with glimpses of that day when we finally get to see the entire picture, see all of it come together and know that there was no flaw in the design.

I can’t wait to see through God’s lens and finally learn the answers to all of my questions. But I don’t want those questions to keep me from exercising faith in what He has already said. Thankfully, God is with us now and has given us the lens of Scripture by which to view this world. And yet gaining (and keeping) the confidence that God is working things out, and that His justice and compassion somehow mesh, plainly takes some hard faith. It can be difficult to accept that God actually receives glory for what happens on this Earth. We hear more bad news than good. But there would be no need for redemption if this world were ideal and whole. I think the times we see God’s glory the most is when He applies healing to something that is broken. And boy, are we broken! Sin has made a mess, and God wants us to witness and enjoy His glory as he redeems his people back to Himself! All the hopelessness, fear, catastrophe, and bitterness remains because there is still more to the story! But we aren’t writing it! For now our “God-vision” is limited. That, however, should leave us clawing for something more. More of Him. One day all anticipation will finally cease, and we will not be disappointed nor left to crave anything else.

I don’t know what that will be like, because I am constantly empty, I am daily searching for something to fill me. Some moments are better than others, moments in which I choose to live in the hope of eternally basking in the glory of God. On those days I am not as easily frustrated and set-off. And even when life doesn’t slow down, I allow my heart to still long enough to see God at work around me. I begin to discover reasons for which to be grateful.

Other days, I would rather settle for basking in the earthly, the temporary. I allow people to name me. My schedule overtakes and consumes me. I grasp at books, projects, food, music, sleep, working out, to find happiness and purpose. To try to gain some sort of control. And I express a skewed understanding of God, which, in reality, fosters these results.

The anticipation is good. Very good. The object of the anticipation, though, is what is important. In His wisdom, God intended us to receive more joy when we honor the Giver over the gift because there is no glory in the gift all by itself. I know I am more grateful for the time, expense, and energy it takes a special person to make me a cake than I am for the actual cake, tasty as it may be. My guess is that anticipation on this earth is meant to leave us empty but also to bring a spark of hope so that our ultimate longing and satisfaction would rest in the glory of God alone.

The Giver is the gift; the gift is the Giver! What can top that!

Stupid is as stupid does!

What is the most stupid thing you have ever done? I mean embarrassingly foolish and idiotic? My husband mentioned such an instance in his life which happened just last week. Sitting in a conference room at work, he waited for a scheduled meeting to start. He noticed that everyone had arrived…except a co-worker named Kevin, though characterized as routinely late, even forgetful regarding meetings.

Just as they were about to begin, Jeromy spoke up, "Wait, we can't start yet. Kevin's not here." And wouldn't you know, there was Kevin, sitting directly across the table from Jeromy. After everyone had a good chuckle, Kevin took off his eyeglasses and offered them to my slightly vision- impaired and flushing husband.

"Would these help?" he joked.

"Yeah, but you're usually late to meetings so I just assumed today would be no different." Good defense, but not enough to get him off the hook.

My own experience also has to do with eyesight, takes place at work, and is just as humiliating. After Jeromy and I got married last summer I took a job as a receptionist for a local oral surgeon. After a few weeks the doc needed some extra hands in surgery…holding heads, suctioning, all the "fun" stuff. Yeah right. While I can now say I'm glad for the 3 months of healthcare experience, I wouldn't go back for anything. I learned that I can deal just fine with my own blood, but I would rather not see the blood of anyone else. I would rather have oral surgery done on myself than watch someone else get oral surgery!

Anyway, a couple months into the position I was asked to hold the head of a teenage boy who needed some gum work done. And that's not the chewing kind! And of course, that meant a LOT of blood, which I was just so excited about. The boy had already been administered the anesthesia and was out cold, and Dr. Z (as we called him) was about to take out the drill. *scary music* Just before he started drilling I realized I didn't have my safety glasses on!

"Wait!" I said with sudden alarm "I can't find my goggles! Everyone looked up at me as I went digging into my lab coat pockets. They looked at one another in confusion, then looked back at me.

"You're wearing them," one of the other assistants bluntly pointed out, most certainly relishing this blonde moment. No way, I thought. My goggles are bulky and so fogged up that I always notice them. I reached my hand up to my eyes and….touched hard plastic rims. Doh!

Ok, so the latest stupid thing I did has to do with something I used to as a kid (which was strange in and of itself). Jeromy and I got to talking one evening last week, and I can't remember how the subject came up, but we discussed some of the acrobatics we used to do. Namely, stand on our head. Apparently, I used to stand on my head for 20 or 30 minutes at a time, and to this day I have no idea why! I'd watch TV standing on my head! I think maybe I did it because I was good at it, even though the stunt itself was uncomfortable. At least, I would hope so! Because it certainly was uncomfortable – and painful! – when Jeromy and I decided to see if the good 'ol "head stand" could still be done. Jeromy went first, and wasn't so successful. Determined, I went to try, and failed on the first attempt. The second try; victorious for about 30 seconds (as opposed to minutes), although a little wobbly. After I "landed" I decided that I should probably quit while I'm ahead, and to never to try that again!

Initially I felt no physical consequence for standing on my head. A couple days later, however, I woke up to an incredibly stiff neck and shoulders. The plus was that Jeromy granted me several massages that hurt like the dickens but felt amazing for the very reason that it hurt like the dickens. The next day the pain subsided, and I hardly noticed it. I went about my regular workout regimen for two days and felt fine both during and after working out.

The day after that second workout; Saturday, the stiffness returned so horribly that I felt stricken in bed! Just washing my hair and putting my clothes on in the morning seemed like huge chores.

Monday morning left me moaning and groaning, and Jeromy wouldn't let me go to work without at least seeing my doctor. I fought it because I always think whatever is wrong with me will just go away with time, or I can deal with it because life has to go on! I can't miss a whole day of work since I am considered a part time employee with no paid sick leave, much less any other benefits. Plus tomorrow is a workout day and I can't be drugged up on medications that make you drowsy and dizzy!

Now it's Tuesday, I carpooled to work after taking the day off yesterday, and I'm walking (and talking) a little slow. I hope to hit the gym tonight once the meds wear off (only cardio, I promise!), but I still plan on carpooling again tomorrow once the next dose kicks in.

I just can't believe that I have to go through all this just because I did something stupid. Especially as stupid as standing on my head! I'm not 6 years old for goodness sake! I know I have a really hard time slowing down, and that this experience should let me catch my breath, but it's still an inconvenience. It's one thing if you hurt yourself playing sports, or even get rear ended, but there's no excuse for this one!

I think I'll try standing on my feet from now on….

holding loosely

Jeromy left on travel today. Under an hour ago he stopped by my office to say goodbye. Granted, it's only for a night or two, but hey, we're still newlyweds! So far in our ten married months we have only been apart three or so nights, when I had training up in Baltimore last December and stayed with his aunt Cheryl. Jeromy had travel last week too, but at the last minute drove home because he had to pick up an essential part to his equipment. That was nice. Husband slips into bed unexpectedly at 11:30. Before that I couldn't sleep. It's just too weird to sleep alone anymore. But once Jeromy came home, zzzzzzzz!

One really feels the depth of love for another when that person is away. Even for one night. That ache. And I already cleaned the house on Sunday morning before church (yes, really!) so how in the world am I going to keep myself busy tonight?! Now I know why so many people keep their TVs or radios on all the time. It lessons the sense of lonely in the absence of a loved one.

One thing I learned real quick while trying to fall asleep on that Jeromy-less night last week. It is so easy to latch on to another person as your security and comfort and well-being. I realize Jeromy is God's gift and that I should embrace and rejoice in everything that a husband is to a wife, and yet, even though we are one and though Jeromy is my earthly joy, a man can never fill the role of God in my life. But it can be easy to view him that way if I'm not careful. It's easy to be devastated and depressed when we have to be apart, looking to Jeromy to fill me up instead my Creator.

Jeromy is tangible. I see his face and feel his touch and hear his voice. And he is literally mine. But I cannot be sustained by my husband the way God can sustain me. I will not spend eternity as Jeromy's wife because it merely points to my future union with Christ, though I can't see Him yet. I am not promised one more minute with the man I love, and I need to be ok with that. I need to thrive with that mindset so that I'm free to really live and love.

A lot of the time it is very difficult for me to understand how we are to enjoy things on this earth. God gives us good things, but they are still ultimately His. Sometimes I am actually afraid to enjoy something completely because there is always that chance that God will take it away. There is always this nagging in the back of my mind that I am loving something too much, and that when it is gone I will then hurt too much. And that is exactly the place I need to grow. We are to hold things loosely because we serve a God who both gives and takes away. The only thing He does not take away is Himself, and that needs to be enough.

Everything else He gives us is pure grace and nothing more. I don't deserve to call Jeromy mine, but because of grace, I do. I shouldn't have been given the opportunity to go to college and get a decent job, but because of grace, I was. And it is only grace that lets me wake up each morning and walk and eat and breathe. And if God should one day take any or all of those things away, I have to believe He is still good, and that He is and will always be enough.

In the meantime...I get to experience the sweetness of waking up next to my crazy-amazing-bedhead husband, and let me tell you, there's almost nothing better in life than that!

Who's will is it anyway?

I have a degree in Education, and yet I knew during my freshman year of college that I would never be a teacher. I've taught Sunday School and Junior Church (and love that), but I can't imagine myself in a classroom of 20 kids with parents breathing down my neck. I saw just enough of that during my 10 weeks of student teaching, TYVM!

For a while I was feeling like a rebel against God's will. Why would He lead me through all four years of the education program at Pillsbury if He didn't want me to teach -- only to work as a nanny after graduation? I felt like I was running from something hard and undesirable, and I that if I didn't want to do it, then maybe God didn't want me to either...BUT maybe He did, and I was being selfish by doing my own thing.

And who really knows?

People talk about God's "perfect will" and his "make-do-with-the-poor-choices-of-sinners will". You know, when God re-directs, turns us around, closes doors, etc. Well I can't explain God and the way His sovereignty works in harmony with man's free will, but I take consolation in his foreknowledge as backup. :) And I can't even explain how THAT ability plays out in His plan, since time doesn't even actually exist! So all I really have left is simple trust, if I can dig around long enough in my heart to find it. I digress...

So here I am, still no desire to teach beyond the confines of volunteer church ministry, but, unbelievably, I am still actually using my degree!!! Well, not technically, but at least it helped boost my resume! I am actually using more of my nanny experiential wisdom in my present job than anything else. I don't know if this is where God meant for me to go, from His eternal perspective, but in some crazy God-sized way, I am exactly where He wants me now. I can't say for sure if He ever wants me to teach (please no, please no!!), but it's only NOW that I have to worry about...or rather, focus on.

Last Fall while I was still doing the head-holding, gum-suctioning in oral surgery, I finally relented to this most likely false nagging in my head that I at least needed to give teaching a chance. I applied as a substitute at the local Christian school. I was on edge the whole time, scared beyond all sense, and yet I was proud of myself for at least finding out if teaching could ever be any sort of option for me. The faculty seemed so excited to see me, I expected a call right away. Well I waited...and waited. A month later I thought, "this is crazy," and I applied to other non-teaching positions in totally unrelated fields. And eventually I got hired to take calls from community parents looking for licensed child care and offering them counseling! And I don't even have kids!

Once I received this job, I immediately assumed this would finally close the door on the teaching issue. God had answered my nagging guilt and was more than pleased with my effort to give Him and His will (perfect or otherwise) a chance, as if the whole thing were a test and I had passed by taking the high road. And now I do not need to expect any call to the classroom ever again.

*sigh*

Sometimes I still catch myself with that mindset, as though I have discerned the mind of God in this regard and that I know God will never ask me to teach. And it's still totally my choice, I know that well. But if I don't care enough to even pray about it, can I really say this is God's will? Probably not....at least in one sense. I keep telling myself that if God wants me to teach someday, then He's going to have to give me the desire to teach, or it's a sure sign it's NOT His will. I think, "Well, one ought to enjoy teaching or one will surely inflict a negative influence on those students!" The excuses are endless.

Well, I know there are a million things in life I would rather not do that are, in fact, His will. Making dinner (I despise cooking), working out (especially at 6a.m.!), maintaining a positive attitude (I have a worry tendency) and, at times, speaking to my husband with humility (I am always right, after all!). These are just hard things, and yet they are God's will. So I know that "desire" logic doesn't work.

I do know that there is nothing God calls me to do that will not bring me joy in some form. I just don't like doing things unless on my own tems and in my own time. If someone tells me to do something, I internally feel defensive because even though I may very well want to do that thing, the fact that I wasn't the one to bring it up or decide when and how to do it somehow makes me mad! Isn't that annoying? I don't get that. But since God knows me better than I do, I know I need to work on resting in His ability to appoint tasks and roles that are suited for me whenever and however He sees fit (even if that includes teaching one day). Is it as easy as that? No. And why is resting the most difficult thing in life? (but that's another blog). I'm sure I'll still put up a fuss and pound the floor with my fists a few times, but He'll bring me around.

For now I'll just relish this moment because it could change in a heartbeat. Looking back I see clearly the string of events (bread crumbs, I like to call it!) that brought me to this place and time. A college diploma, a few mistakes made and lessons learned, a pressing through the unknown, a purchased plane ticket, and a hope and anticipation for something good. And it's ALWAYS good.

btw, the principal of that Christian school goes to my church, and I sat next to her last week during the service, and she didn't even remember where she knew me from! ha!

In all circumstances

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:4-7).

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you " (I Thessalonians 5:16-18).

*****

Taking a fresh look at these verses. More like it, taking a fresh look at God. At myself. At life. Being a Christian for 21 years doesn't mean anything. Sometimes I feel like I'm just starting out, like I just found out there is a God. Sometimes I don't even know what faith is. And most of the time I don't deal well with having to trust. That implies limited or no understanding, and that's hard. But since "control freak" and "Christian" don't go together, I know I can't camp here. Not if I want to be happy, or at least finally grasp what it means to live with joy.

This time I can't bring myself to renew the same promises, nor trick myself into thinking I've repented. It has never worked. I can't just pray and say, "Ok, God, you can have me" while hoping for the best. All I know to do is grab a hold of God's pinkie and pray for Him to get me through this moment. And the next moment. And the next. I have to live in the present. I know I am still going to fail and let my emotions reign, but I can't live like that's a sure thing unless I want to defeat myself. It would also cause me to miss out on moments of peace and opportunities to praise.

This is so not easy for me. To praise when life throws a curve? Are you kidding?! I set out to make something work, and it's gonna work!!!

For so long I've had all the right answers. I've quoted Scripture and believed all the right things. But seldom have I thought about this realistically. Of course all you do is trust and obey! There's no other way to be happy in Jesus! That's sanctification in a nutshell. Two little words even a 5-year-old can quote. Sounds simple enough…until you wind up in a "circumstance".

I would venture to say most people have several "circumstances" on any given day. We make small things big, and big things bigger. We find ourselves stressed or frustrated or hurt or angry or disappointed or just plain ugly! Sometimes I feel all of the above and boy is that is a circumstance! Tell me then. Tell me in that moment to trust and obey! Ha! You'll see me turn m my heel and walk the other direction! I could even read it straight out of Scripture, only to shut the Book and go do my own thing. I'm just being real that it's difficult to believe God amid circumstance. So how can I consider praise?

I realize that I am responding in the flesh with these words. I know all too well that the Spirit provides a wealth of faith if I will just draw from it. Yet in the moment all I can see is the problem and the unfairness of it. Of the unfairness of God. I don't like those thoughts but I have to confess them. It doesn't matter what the circumstance is, whatever I face is big and hopeless and final and "out to get me". I see God as something of a trickster, Who gives only to take away, as if life is just one big test and you can't really fully enjoy anything or it will be snatched away. A God Who wants to pour nothing but difficulty into our laps when we submit to Him. A Being who doesn't really care about our happiness, only our holiness.

What has happened to my understanding of God? Why do I fall trap to these lies again and again?

I'm weary of knowing all the right answers and them not being real in my life. I desperately want a correct view of God so I can fully learn to trust Him with my deepest being and my most beloved possessions. I want to find the link between happiness and holiness, an understanding that stems from more than a textbook explanation. I even want to find, in spite of myself, praise spilling from my mouth in the darkest of moments and with the heaviest of hearts.I really want to get this!

If it ever happens I know that it will be ALL Spirit and none of me, because praise is only natural if I'm directing it at myself. I need to figure out what happened to my new heart and pull it back up to the surface and recover that song that's been lying dormant. And I must not look ahead of this day (often this hour!) or else I will surely conjure up a million negative scenarios that will most likely never take place, and I will spend an hour worrying about it and maybe even crying a little. Over something that is not true! I forecast all these horrible things that will happen and cause misery. A "nothing is fair and nobody cares" mentality; all of it destructive.

It's the lies.

I need Truth!

And so I picked up an old Catherine Marshall read called, Something More. And she has been there! Halleluiah!! I have found somebody with whom I can relate! Most of the time people hide behind their perfect faces and perfect families and perfect schedules. I'm guilty along with the rest of them. Transparency leaves us feeling vulnerable, and so it's much safer to keep our hearts in the shadows and merely socialize instead of experience true fellowship. Can we even find fellowship anymore? Ahh….thank goodness for the blog. He never lets me down and I feel safe with him.

I don't need people to tell me what to believe or do, I need people to tell me they understand.

Something More isn't preachy. It doesn't provide Scriptural pat answers nor a false sense of security like some do. Ms. Marshall fully recognizes that this stuff isn't easy. She's more like, "I'm right there with ya, girl, but let's not give up!" She certainly doesn't claim to completely understand God, nor His ways. I imagine she struggled as a Christian up until her last breath. But she provides hope amid the struggle. The little snippets of her experience (the defeats as well as the victories) and the anecdotes of other saints who also didn't give up seem to be just what I need. She isn't afraid to ask the hard questions, no matter how silly they sound in light of Scripture's clarity. She knows that faith is so much easier to discuss in a Bible study than it is to practice in the real world. "Is God in everything?" is her first question. Even in evil such as death, illness, and suffering? And while Ms. Marshall's answer is "Yes", she doesn't eliminate the struggle to accept this, even after a biblical monologue painting a better understanding of God.

While I am slow in coming around, the answers are making their way to my heart, and I am facing them, as I mentioned earlier, in a fresh way. Learning and meditation is the step I'm on, and it is a process. I know I will fall, so all I can aim for is a conscious desire to get right back up.

*****

"Grim circumstances of quite a different nature faced our Dutch friend Corrie ten Boom and her sister Betsie during World War II in Ravensbruck, the Nazi concentration camp. The sisters had been hauled off to prison for aiding Jews in the Dutch underground in their native village of Haalem" (Marshall 28).

Although found in chapter 2 of Catherine Marshall's Something More (pp. 28-29), the following is taken from The Hiding Place (Washington Depot, Conn.: Chosen Books, 1971), pp. 180-181.

At one period of their imprisonment Corrie and Betsie were transferred from crowded cells (where they had been separated for months) to Barracks 28. Within the hour they discovered that their reeking straw bed pads were crawling with fleas.

"How can we live in such a place!" Corrie wailed softly.

Without answering, Betsie immediately began praying, "Show us, Lord. Show us how." Then a moment later excitedly, "Corrie, He's given us the answer! I read it in the Bible this morning. Here—read that part again." It was in I Thessalonians. "Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus—"

"That's it, Corrie! We're to thank Him for every single thing about the new barracks."

"Such as?" Corrie was trying to look with fresh eyes at the half-dark, foul-smelling room."

"Such as being together here."

"Oh yes.""And having managed so far to hang onto that Bible."

"Yes—oh, yes. Thank You, Lord, for that."

"And for the fleas—"

"Betsie, I see no way I can thank God for fleas."

"But fleas are part of this place where God has put us. 'Give thanks in all circumstances,' it says. Not just pleasant circumstances."

So the two women thanked God for the fleas.As the days wore on the prisoners in Barracks 28 discovered that there was an astonishing lack of supervision or interference. Corrie and Betsie used the unprecedented freedom to talk to the other prisoners, read the Bible to them, minister in a myriad ways.

Then one day a supervisor tipped her hand as to why they were given so much latitude. Some of the women had called through the grilled door to ask the supervisor to come and settle a dispute. She refused, as did the guards. "That place is crawling with fleas," the supervisor said. "I wouldn't step through the door."

Corrie's mind rushed back to their first hour in the barracks and to their rueful prayer thanking God for fleas. When she looked up, Betsie was chuckling, her eyes sparkling. "So now we know why we were supposed to praise Him even for fleas. Even the fleas had to be His instrument for our good."