Twas the Night Before...by Christina Wehr

This is a poem my mom wrote during her chemo treatments a few times back.  If this isn't an amazing example of finding joy in the hard times, I don't know what is :-) I love this!

‘Twas the night before chemo and here in my place
I am grateful to still have my brows on my face.
My hair will be leaving, “farewell!” to my locks.
I’m dragging old hats and wigs out of their box.

So I struck with some scissors, some clippers and shears –
(I must keep on smiling and banish all tears!)
My new ‘do is short, but it’s jaunty and classy.
All spiked up with goo, it just makes me feel sassy!

So what if these efforts at fashion don’t last?
Oh, well!  With the scissors, the die has been cast!
A week, or not even, maybe three days or two
Of this stylin’ new look that has make its debut.

And so, with a sigh most resign-ed and sad,
I will embrace baldness – it won’t be so bad!
I have done it before and I’ll do it again,
This “look” that is suave and so sexy on men.

And think of the many good things I can do!
All the pennies I’ll save on gel, mousse and shampoo!
There are minutes I’ll save up each new, sunny day
With no blow-dry or curling to get in the way.

With smooth pate still snuggled asleep on my bed,
I can dream so much longer of times without dread.
I’ll dream of no cancer, no chemo, no drugs,
No evil cells lurking in darkness like thugs.

So now, here I go!  I can do this!  I can!
My treatment is all just a part of the plan
To which warriors (well, docs and nurses) are called
To blot out my enemy, once and for all.

And so I’ll exclaim ‘ere I turn out the light,
“To all, happy dreaming!  To all a goodnight

Wonderfully Made

Liam and Sawyer the first moment I got to hold them!  Now these works of God are truly wonderful:-)

Having children has improved my self-esteem. Granted, motherhood has also given me a new world of things to be insecure about, but my self-worth and the way God sees me has become more clear, humbling and awe-inspiring as God’s allowed me to partner with him in creating and shaping THREE sons. 

Recently I memorized all of Psalm 139. I have loved this passage since I was a young teen, but I've wrestled with myself to believe it when I say, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well” (vs. 14). And honestly, I never did believed it. I saw so many flaws—in the mirror, in my character, in my actions—that the wonderfully made part seemed far-fetched. And yet, when I first felt Liam move in my belly and especially when I first held him my arms, I could not deny that God’s works are wonderful. So began my efforts to reconcile my complete belief in the second part of the verse with my incredulity about its application to myself.

I have realized, much to my chagrin, that my low self-esteem has actually stemmed from a lack of submission to God’s truth and has become a vehicle to let myself off the hook from doing the more difficult parts of God’s calling in my life. This is not to self-condemn or make light of the emotions I’ve felt, because my erroneous view of myself has led to lots of real pain. I hurt for my teenage years when I turned to an eating disorder to prove my worth and for my early adult years when my poor husband struggled to convince me that I was worthy of his love. But I now see that I missed so many opportunities to show God’s love or stand up boldly for his truth because I was truly convinced I was not the right person for the job; this conviction came from my refusal to believe a Bible that I actually believe is completely true. God said he created me fearfully and wonderfully, yet I said to him, “I believe the rest, Lord, but not that.”

Yet as I marvel at the amazing imagination Liam displays every day, the way Sawyer shows his emotions—especially his love—in wonderful extremes and the crazy soccer games Everett plays in my belly every night, I cannot deny how fabulous God’s works are. Therefore I have to submit to the fact that I too am one of God’s magnificent creations. In fact, denying it probably hurts God just like it would hurt me if my sons did not see themselves the way I see them: as perfect, beautiful, fascinating, surprising reflections of God, me and my husband. The most mind-blowing part is that God describes himself as a parent, so the intense, delightful, almost achingly heavy love I feel for my boys is just a dim glimmer of the love God feels for me. Whoa.

Seeing myself in this new light opens up opportunities and unlocks my boldness. Jesus says, “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). I am abiding in Christ, so the pressure is off! I don’t need to dwell on my perceived shortcomings. I can do nothing without him, so I need not try. He will do it all!

This does not mean that I am now immune to the effects of a bad hair day or an I-can’t-go-out-in-public-because-I’m-so-fat-freak-out moment; I know that I will still balk at times and shy away from stepping into situations that make my comfort zone not so comfy. But I have submitted to the idea that God “thoroughly equipped [me] for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:17). Just like my heart got all melty when Liam gave me his Picasso-esque elephant drawing this morning, and I continue to chuckle throughout the day about Sawyer’s random but very convincing kung-fu break dance right before we left for school, God feels warmed-hearted and lovingly amused by me. And that is something to praise him about.

The Good Stuff

My three favorite gifts

I have a very serious problem. I have the overwhelming desire to buy stuff for my kids. Whether it’s the adorable long sleeve shirt that I just know Sawyer needs (even though he has literally fifteen in his dresser) or the silly pretend cell phone in the check out line at Walmart that I know will make Liam happy for the ten minutes it will take to get home, I struggle to resist getting them things that will make them happy even if it’s fleetingly. Now, our budget, the boys’ overflowing playroom and the knowledge that I really will create little monsters if I let this compulsion win, helps me to resist more often than not. But I long to delight them by showering them with gifts.

Sometimes, when struggles seem to abound and blessings are harder to find, I forget that this desire in me is actually a reflection of God’s desire to delight us. Jesus says, “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11). Jesus said it, so I know it’s true: God does give us good gifts. But I think it might be the adjective “good” that messes me up. I tend to wonder why God is saying no to my prayers, when I’m actually whining and begging for the cheap McDonald’s toy that will break before I get to the car. God is lovingly saying no, because he knows that there is something truly good waiting for me later (maybe a Little Critter book that I will want to read every night for three weeks straight) that will enhance my life instead of giving me fleeting, often frustrating, pleasure.

When I look for the good gifts in my life, I can see that they abound: I prayed fervently that Liam would be spared the awful stomach flu we all got last month, and miraculously he was, despite his unavoidably close proximity to the rest of us; I begged that God would cause the chemo to work quickly after Mom switched to a new regimen, and after just two chemo sessions her CA-125 count went down 800 points; we beseeched God to keep Everett safe from the unknown growth in my belly and found at my ultrasound that it had completely, “unexplainably” disappeared without a trace. When I look at these good gifts, I realize I’m actually quite spoiled.

But God’s gifts are not limited to those times when we ask for something in desperation. Ryan told me once that as he looked back at all the amazing ways God opened doors for him to get into college despite his low grades and lack of funds, Ryan realized that God paved the way just to lavish his love on him. God wasn’t trying to prove himself to Ryan or earn his love, because, as Ryan said, “I would have kept following him even if he hadn’t gotten me into college.” He was simply showing Ryan, in a profound way, that his good gifts abound.

1 John 3:1 says, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us!” He often gives us good gifts just to delight us and show us his love. I can’t eat an Oreo (or a row of Oreos) without realizing this is true. The evidence is all around me that God truly loves to have us experience the good stuff: we don’t need all the colors of the sunset, and yet God designed the sun to go down in a flurry of artwork every evening; we don’t need  flavor as the Israelites showed us by surviving on manna for forty years, and yet God gave us spices, chocolate, avocados and Thai food (my favorite!); I don’t need God to answer my prayers in order to keep believing in him and walking with him, and yet he answers them in wonderful ways all the time. It seems my desire to spoil my children actually pales in comparison to God’s ability to give his children what’s really good and lavish and delightful. Thank you Lord for your good gifts!