What’s on Your mind today?

A friend of my just came by. We met in the driveway as she carefully transferred from a distance, dinner from a local favorite restaurant and a package of toilet paper. She informed me that she had washed her hands and wiped the packaging clean before releasing them to me.

Weeks ago, before anyone thought twice about giving or receiving hugs, she had held me close and whispered in my ear, “I want to bring your favorite dinner to you one night soon. Just let me know what it is.” Soon after that a world pandemic took center stage and I forgot her sweet, generous offer. This morning she called me and said, “Today is the day. What will it be? I will be there at 4.”

As we stood, so happy to see each other’s face, she said something remarkable. She said, “This morning I asked God what was on His heart. He said you.”

I was stunned. If I were a psalmist, this is where I would insert the word, “selah”.

Now I don’t know about you, but I can’t say that I make it a regular habit of asking God what is on his mind. Mostly I tell Him what is on mine. What she said gives me a lot to think about. Not only about what might be on His mind, but about putting my mind in a perspective to even stop and ask Him.

And then came this radical thought. With all the craziness and suffering going on today all over the world, He has me on His mind. I fully expect Him to be watching over all the sick people and those helping them, but me? I had to stop and think a bit to remember just what scripture has to say about that.

I remembered that the book of Jeremiah opens up with the Lord telling Jeremiah He knew all about him long before he was conceived. He knew what sort of man he would be and the challenges he would face and the places he would go because God would send him. God knew him very well.

I thought about what Jesus says in Luke 12 that God values us much more than the birds, whom He cares for and knows when they die. And He knows us so intimately that He keeps up with the number of hairs on our head. He knew those cancer cells were growing inside me long before anyone else did!

Surely He knows us better than we know ourselves, He made us. Our daily necessities are no mystery to Him. He knows just how many rolls of paper we have in the closet right now. And just because the world is in a panic doesn’t mean that God is.

So I want to share this thought with you. God cares for you. His word says so over and over. This is where it is stated explicitly. 1 Peter 5:7 Cast all your anxieties on Him for HE CARES FOR YOU.

Isn’t that the most wonderful thought ever? YOU are on His mind.

Bearing Long

What is the secret sauce some people have which makes a relationship stick together for decades instead of days?

On September 7th 2019 my husband and I celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. Like most relationships, ours began based on looks and likes. I was attracted to his manly tenderness, his physical strength, his good looks, and yes, the Mustang King Cobra he drove. During our courtship we found common ground in what we wanted from life: commitment to God, marriage, family and helping others. That was forty years ago. Just like the songs playing on the radio in the 70s, some linger, but a whole lot of new music is playing now.

He and I have changed a bit. We’ve put on a few pounds and changed our hairstyles. We’ve laughed and made private jokes which no one else can possibly understand. We’ve created life together, and watched in amazement as they grew into the most wonderful people in spite of our ignorance and mistakes. We’ve changed jobs and careers; survived teenagers; and fell in love all over again when the nest got empty. And in private moments, we have shown each other the wounds we suffered along the way.

So what is it that has allowed us to get this far when so many others haven’t? Occasionally we’ll get asked that question, especially in September when we’re out celebrating another year. It fascinates me to hear how he and I answer the question differently each time, and so differently from each other. All the answers are true, but express only what can be said in a moment, which falls far short of the complete truth.

Some friends of mine recently studied Luke 18:1-8 where Jesus instructs his disciples how to pray using a parable. In the King James version, verse 7 tells us that God bears long with us. Books have been written about this parable, but I want to focus on this one concept.

The same root word shows up in 1 Corinthians 13:4, the love chapter, where the KJV uses the words suffereth long. In Luke 9:41 AMP, we find Jesus asking “How long am I to be with you and put up with you?” Perhaps he was expressing his frustration … yet he stayed. He didn’t give up, take what was his and run away. He didn’t withdraw his help and support, nor did he stop loving. He stayed.

This is part of my gift from God. As I face a scary new year dealing with this cancer, I’m not going it alone. God stayed. My husband stayed. I stayed. We didn’t give up on “us” when the going was really tough and the temptation to leave was very real. This bearing long through the years is the soil in which our trust put down deep roots. Over the years it was tested by spring storms, summer drought, fall hurricanes and winter freezes. This testing made “us” stronger, bound us together, gave us staying power… because we stayed.

When we said “I do” to each other, forty years ago, like most couples we fully intended to make it to the finish line. But we had no idea how hard it would be. Life gets hard. I don’t want to belittle anyone’s difficulty or cause someone to feel badly for choices already made. What I do wish, is to encourage those still on this journey. Those who realize that it isn’t turning out quite like expected. That the disappointment is just too much.

You can’t carry the weight of your entire future on your shoulders. You can only make a choice for right now, for the struggle today. Just for today you can chose not to quit. Somewhere along the way, we made an agreement with each other. We won’t both quit on the same day. If today I’m ready to walk away, he won’t. If today I’m the one who is hard to live with, he bears long with me because tomorrow, I’ll do the same for him.

This is our poetry, the music to which we dance. As with most things, the steps may be hard to learn but gets easier with practice. My view of “us” is distorted. The best way to see “us” is to choose to see him as God sees him, as God sees me: someone He created just the way He did because it pleased Him to do so. Someone He is willing to bear long with.

Several years back there was co-worker I wanted to congratulate on his retirement day. I asked him in jest how he made it to retirement. His response was unexpectedly sincere. He said, “I just kept coming in every day.”

The First Benefit

It happened during the week I was a still a secret agent, moonlighting as a research analyst. My evenings were high speed feeding frenzies at every cancer website I could find. My brain felt like an overstuffed stomach, squirting digestive juices into places not meant for it and the burn kept me awake. Before the sun peeked through the window blinds each morning, I had dressed my under-eye bags, put my “everything is cool” mask in place, and set out to face another day at the office.

All employers have teams, official or not. The people I interact with are my team. We share information to do our jobs. Sometimes we interact with other teams in the company. This was one of those times. To complete an assignment, I needed a bit of information from another team. Those folks happened to be in town for some meetings and I asked one of them to stop by when he could. It sounds simple enough to ask one question to one person, right?

After their meeting ended, he shows up at my office, with the rest of his carpool buddies in tow. We’re having a conversation and I raise my question. The next time my brain engages I realize I have said way too much; the warning signals start flashing to put the brakes on, but the momentum of words is too great and the gossip train takes forever to come to a complete stop.

Maybe the experts would blame this on the current state of distress in my psyche, or the sleep deprivation I was experiencing. But those words didn’t come from anyone’s mouth but mine. They were slanderous, judgmental, and divisive. All weekend the words echoed in my thoughts, playing back as if they had been said about me.

As of today, my body has not received any surgery or cancer treatment. The only change since having the big “C” on my forehead is this amazing simplistic focus on what is truly important. Most of us were taught the Golden Rule when we were young. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” It comes from the Bible in Matthew 7:12. I found myself looking into both the internal and the eternal mirror and not liking what I saw. Ever been there? Suddenly it was highly important that I seek out and apologize to each of the people who heard those words come out of my mouth. It took a few days to gather the courage, find the right words and get it done, but oh how freeing it was!

Though my apology was appreciated, not one of them took the offense as seriously as I had. And that highlights the first change in “Susan with cancer”. In a word: perspective. Two resources have always been available, time and the opportunity to do good. Now, they have become precious resources which can no longer be wasted, but carefully invested.

I’m thankful for the lesson learned and wonder how many times I’ve uttered similar words and never thought about how it would feel if they had been spoken about me. I’ve asked my heavenly father to forgive me. His grace is the best of all for he not only forgave the sin I have just shared, but he has promised to cleanse me from all my unrighteousness. “All” includes those slanderous, divisive words I have spoken but can’t even remember. I’m so thankful for the sacrifice His son made so I can be forgiven.

This first benefit of cancer, I welcome with open arms and want to keep always: recognizing that my time and my words must be carefully invested in doing good.

Black Friday

Please don’t think I am impervious to the shock of my diagnosis. I’m no superhero, in spite of what I may, or may not, have led my grandson to believe. I’ve had my moments. Stepping out of the hospital parking garage, where I’ve parked many times to visit friends, then instead of walking straight toward the hospital, we made a right turn and faced the sign on the other building which read “Oncology”. I felt that sensation in my stomach. You know it, the one you get from standing on a rooftop or high bridge, looking down, thinking about what it might feel like to slip and fall from that great height. In that moment, with my husband on one side and my daughter on the other, I looked away from the sign and up into the deep of the sky and said, “God, here we go!”

The first moment happened the day I got the phone call with the biopsy results. The one where I heard the words which branded a big “C” on my forehead. It had been such a busy day. I had been working all day trying to resolve an accounting puzzle and had literally been sitting beside my co-worker, L, since early morning, sharing my desk as we sorted through all the pieces. I had been told to expect the call around 10 am. Lunch came and went. Then, at 4:08 it came. I calmly said to L, “I need to take this.” She excused herself and after closing my office door, I sat down and picked up the phone. The person behind this voice had been so kind, setting up appointments, calling me back with confirmations, helping me with directions and answering questions. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to have her job, telling news to folks, some of which will be celebrated, and some of which will feel like a giant sinkhole caving beneath their feet. Her manner was gentle and we discussed what my next step should be. I frantically scribbled down all I could of the words she was saying. When we hung up, I called my husband. At this point, no one else knew there was any suspicion. I got his voice mail. Not knowing what to say, I hung up, folded my notes and stuffed them into my purse. Quietly in my heart I said, “It’s our secret for now, God” and then opened my office door. My co-worker returned and we sat back down in front of my computer. I told her, “I have to have some surgery.” Then we got back to the puzzle and resolved it to our satisfaction, I’m glad to say, by the end of the day.

My husband rang as I was closing things down and said, “I’m sorry I missed your call. What’s up?” Because this was Tuesday, and I usually go from the office to Bible study on Tuesdays, we didn’t expect to have dinner together. I said to him, “I didn’t call. That must have been from yesterday” and then went right on to discussing his day and my plans for the evening. As we were saying good-bye it hit me. “Wait! wait! wait! I did call you. I heard from the biopsy.” And then I shared the news with him.

On my drive, I realized that I had not only stuffed my written notes, I had stuffed the news and boxed it away in my mind. I guess it was a good coping strategy, just not a good one for long-term. At any rate, I still had the evening to go before I could unpack it with my husband, so back into the box it went.

As I reflect on this I am reminded of a truth I learned a few years ago. I had heard someone say in public, “I hope to never be offended again.” That phrase had struck me with curiosity so much that later, when I read Psalm 119:165, it clicked. The King James version has it this way: Great peace have they which love thy law: and nothing shall offend them. When we love God and love his son, the Word Incarnate, we have no need to feel offended or be tripped up by anything which may happen to us. I’ve had years to ruminate this so that today, not only do I have head-knowledge, but also heart-knowledge of this truth. This morning I came across the passage again, and read it within the context of my gift. Verse 162 now comes to life for me: I rejoice at thy word, as one that findeth great spoil. God had known all along that I would receive the big “C” brand. In his tenderness and mercy, He has been preparing me for years, making sure I would have this truth in my heart. For this reason, I can rejoice in the gift of his word and the gift of cancer.

Today many of us will be out hoping to find a great spoil in the shopping malls and stores. You’ll see me in the TV department. In the midst of the frenzy I hope you will find great peace and that your eyes and especially your heart will be open to the great spoil found in his word.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has long been my favorite holiday. My favorite memories are always centered around BEING with those I love. I’m no shopper and decorating was never my forte. I’m a homebody at heart, but working through my child-rearing days put a strain on enjoying the holidays. There were never enough hours in the day to DO all that needed doing. I think that is why Thanksgiving became my favorite.

I have four siblings, each of whom have gifted me with cousins for my daughters. As they all grew, I loved watching them develop into best friends. Many Thanksgivings were spent at “Aunt Susie’s” home where my rule was: You are welcome to come, but bring food!!

My contribution always included green bean casserole, the one dish I felt competent in preparing. It is my claim to fame, having won 3rd prize at the Pearl River County Fair with it when I was in 5th grade.

Those Thanksgivings memories still bring me great pleasure. My two girls ended up with 16 cousins from my siblings. I’m the middle child and the cousins came like stair-steps for about 10 years between my older sisters and me. There was a little pause and then my younger siblings contributed, ending right about the time the second-cousins began arriving. A couple of weeks ago my dad announced that there are 64 of us, counting spouses and all. That’s quite a clan! And is one of the reasons I decided to blog, just to keep everyone informed!

Thanksgivings gave us an opportunity to meet boyfriends and girlfriends and laugh and learn what everyone was up to. I was so glad my nieces and nephews felt comfortable bringing their friends, knowing they would be welcome. In 2014 my firstborn was married and I finally got a son! Since then, with pregnancies and newborns, we haven’t hosted the big family meal and I have missed those gatherings. Hoping to rekindle it in 2020!!

As my news has gone out, I have received several gifts of encouragement in text messages from friends and family. Many of these include passages of scripture which have come to live in the hearts of those who texted them. One such passage was received yesterday from two sources, a niece in the morning and a dear friend in the afternoon. It reads like this:

“Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn’t get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan’s angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn’t think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me, My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.”

I recognized the passage from 2 Corinthians 9, but new to me was the different phrasing used in The Message. I like thinking that Paul also accepted his “thorn” as a gift. I had not seen that word used in other translations of the Bible. And yet that is exactly how I feel about this cancer. Without this gift, I would never have experienced the wonderful grace which has accompanied it.

When I think of grace, I think of those awkward moments when the wrong words have come out of my mouth. Few people know just how to smile and cover my words with a blanket of kindness. Draped in their kindness, my words end up sounding much better than when they left my mouth.

That’s exactly what I have experienced in my journey thus far. The sting has been removed from the word cancer. It is covered with God’s smile and his grace. What sounded harsh at the outset, has been softened like a dirty landscape is softened when covered by a few inches of snow. Now it has beauty for me where before there was none.

I hope you’ll stick with me long enough to get a glimpse of it. Now I’m off to cook a ham for my three year old grandson. When I asked him if he was going to eat turkey with me, he said, “I don’t want turkey. I want ham!” So ham it is. Happy Thanksgiving and may you be as blessed as I am this year.

My gift

My name is Susan. I’ve just been given a gift. Some might call it something else, but for me, this is a gift. I have been diagnosed with breast cancer. Why do I call this a gift? I’m so glad you asked. I hope to explain that to you as I share my journey with you. And as I begin, let me share where I got my mandate.

John 9 begins with a conversation between Jesus and his disciples. They are observing a young blind man and ask Jesus why this happened to him. They wondered if the blindness could be the result of his sin, or maybe his parents’ sin. Jesus responds that it was neither, but so that God would be glorified.

That is my mandate. God has given me this cancer so that I might give glory to him in a way I could never have done before. I hope you follow along as I discover where my journey leads. I am still in the info-seeking, planning stage so the only changes which have taken place have been in my mind and heart. This is how it all began…

Life had been busy with new grand babies and three moves. The mammogram had been postponed time and again until my doctor said, “This year, Susan. You must get it this year!” Of course I waited… until my birthday week. It was drivers license renewal time, so I thought I may as well get that mammogram done too. Happy Birthday to me: they called me on my birthday to request another look at something suspicious.

After the second mammogram, I was in that limbo of not knowing. The time when you have all these unanswered “what if” questions; devouring information but not knowing if it would be needed; thinking about it always, but not ready to discuss it with friends; praying, but not knowing quite how to pray.

Two days before the biopsy, came peace. It was Sunday and I was filled with so much love from God, it was glorious. My emotions were a bit unstable and the tears rolled down my face, but they were happy tears. A lady sat next to me during church. She had her grandson with her and I had mine with me. We introduced ourselves. Then, when she stood to share with the church that she was celebrating her 2nd year being cancer-free, I knew God was there, telling me he loved me enough to bring this lady to sit beside me on this day to share her story.

On Tuesday, the call came in the afternoon. The biopsy showed cancer was present. All was quiet in my soul. I was just breathing. The world didn’t stop as maybe I had expected it would. I rang my husband’s phone, but he didn’t answer. This was my secret for now, me and God.

Tuesday night is Bible study night with the ladies at my church. That evening my friend, Patsy, shared her cancer story with the group. She had no idea what I had just learned! She had not planned to share it that night, but she had learned to be ready and to be obedient when the door opened. Again, God was telling me that He loved me so much, that he sent Patsy, my friend, to comfort and encourage me. It was later Tuesday night, after a long conversation with my husband, when I read John 9. This thing, this diagnosis, this cancer was no secret from the one who formed me in my mother’s womb. He selected my eye color, designed my fingerprints and knows the number of hairs on my head. He is the one who has numbered my days. If I don’t know anything else about my next step, I know this: I am to give God glory through this journey.