Lake Tahoe and lots of love

This weekend we went to a cabin near Lake Tahoe with some of our dearest friends, the Roberts.  Beauty permeated the whole weekend.  It was beautiful to get prolonged time to laugh, play, and talk for hours with Lauren and Stephen.  It was beautiful to watch our boys adore their baby boy.  This morning as they were packing to go, Everett announced, “This is my baby Finn!”  It was beautiful to witness my boys getting caught up in their grandiose surroundings.  And each time they got swept up in the moment, they directed their delight at me.

You see, all three of my boys do something so incredibly special when they are overwhelmed by beauty and love: they direct all their feelings at me.  I have noticed and loved their tendency to do this before, each in his own way, but this weekend they were so effusive in light of the beauty surrounding us that it pushed me to love better and with more abandon.

Yesterday we were driving back to the cabin after a full day of swimming and exploring.  The boys fell asleep for awhile, and Ryan and I were deep in thoughtful, inspiring conversation about faith and vocation and adventure.  It was a lovely, sleepy end to our day.  When we pulled up to the cabin, Liam sat up and declared from the backseat, “I need to hug and kiss you, Mama!  I’m just so happy for you!  I’m just so happy for you being my mama.  I need to hug and kiss you!”  Even though Liam is excellent at expressing himself, I could tell he couldn’t find the words for this moment.  He couldn’t tell me that everything good and beautiful about our family and creation seemed to have worked together to give us this day and this quiet night.  He just felt “happy for me” and needed to hug and kiss me.

This afternoon, after an adventurous hike over boulders and through tree groves, we all dove into the pristine waters of Silver Lake.  The icy-fresh water, the towering cliffs, the squeals and giggles as my boys prodded each other to go deeper, Harper’s excited splashes as she bounded all around us—all of it and more than I could even grasp—took my breath away.  Sawyer turned to me, and I could see in his sparking eyes that he felt all this too, this as-close-to-Heaven-on-earth-as-we-can-get moment.  Through blue lips and chattering teeth, he sputtered a litany of almost nonsensical love declarations: “I love you, Mama…love you…LOVE YOU…that you’re my mama…LOVE you…swimming mama!”  I laughed and told him that I love him too and that I agree this is a magical, God-filled moment.

Finally, as I held a soaked-through Everett on the walk back to the car, he looked over my shoulder at the lake and said, “It’s so pretty, I just hold you.”

I have written a lot about finding the joy in tough stuff and on dark roads.  But I hope that when I experience those purely joyful moments and pain is the last thing on my mind, I will respond like my boys.  I want to hug and kiss and hold my loved ones and declare my love, even in nonsensical ways, to my Heavenly Father who is behind and in and through it all.

My prayer for all of you will always be that joy will be part of your every day lives, even when it’s hard to find.  But today, I pray joy will be all around you in such a breath-taking way that the only way to respond is with love.

"Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

You have set your glory in the heavens. 

Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.

When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?

You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.

You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet:

all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild, the birds in the sky, and the fish in the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.

Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" (Psalm 8).

Backpacks, Cancer Treatment, and Metaphors

My dad recently wrote me a beautiful metaphor describing his prayer for me.  He wrote, “I do not want cancer to be this massive backpack that weighs you down and keeps you from the adventures you enjoy. What I'm praying for is a small day pack that allows you to go and do everything you want to and often forget about carrying.”

I have been grappling with how to process the most recent development in my health journey, and this sweet prayer has helped me to clarify my approach.  For my “day pack” has been packed by my Savior and has everything I could need for the adventures he has for me. 

When my new doctor told me that I needed to have a new port placed and to begin receiving infusions of Herceptin every three weeks for the rest of my life, I was pretty daunted and disappointed.  I drove home that day feeling weighed down with the enormity of it all.  Another surgery?!  Treatment for the REST OF MY LIFE?! Figuring out what to do with my three boys every three weeks while I drive into San Francisco?!  And Lord, what if it still makes me sick for 24 hours like it used to?! My prayers were a staccato of worry and frustration…and relief.  As much as I didn’t want to do any of it, there was enormous relief in the knowledge that I would be doing everything medically possible to keep me from having to face cancer again.  None of us are guaranteed tomorrow, but this would give me my best chance.  

My cancer backpack definitely felt massive that day; underneath the worry, frustration, and relief was a heaviness at the knowledge that once again cancer, or preventing cancer, was going to dictate my schedule, my life, my abilities.  

But then I started really researching Herceptin (it’s a beautiful miracle of science), and I’m once again reminded how completely God is working all things together for my good.  You see, just like my dad’s metaphor, what Herceptin does in my body is also a beautiful metaphor for what the Holy Spirit does in my soul.  Breast cancer is, after all, part of me.  With an original diagnosis like mine, my disease is presently considered managed, but never in remission.  My breast cancer cells are my cells just like my healthy cells are.  Cancer is unique in that it is not a disease I’ve caught from an outside source.  It’s my own cells doing the wrong thing and taking over the cells that are doing the right thing, and my rare and aggressive kind of breast cancer cells are incredibly good at reproducing and killing my good cells.  Herceptin finds those breast cancer cells, attaches itself to them, and signals my immunity cells to come attack them while simultaneously blocking the cancer cells’ ability to communicate with other cells and reproduce.  Herceptin is taking down any breast cancer cells that try to show their faces, therefore allowing my healthy cells to flourish and my immunity cells to do their job with heightened effectiveness.  

The Holy Spirit is doing the same work in my soul.  He is finding all of the pieces of me that are not working right—fear, doubt, worry, anxiety, impatience, selfishness—and he is signaling the other parts of me to take those out and block them from reproducing and taking over the supernatural parts of me—faith, patience, selflessness, love, peace, joy. 

I am not perfect.  I never will be.  The Holy Spirit will not stop working on my soul.  At this point, it also looks like I’ll never be completely done with cancer treatment while I’m on this earth.  But that’s really ok, because I am believing Philippians 1:6 for my soul and my body: “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

Thank you, Daddy, for your beautiful prayer.  My cancer day pack has come to hold peace, joy, love, faith, and strength that are not dependent on my circumstances.  It is not heavy or massive; it is a sign that God has prepared me for a longer journey, in this life or the next.

My prayer for all of you is that you can see the gifts that come from what is weighing you down.  May your struggles prepare you for the work God has for you.  May you embrace the truth of Isaiah 40:31: “But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.”    

Lies

Satan has a few favorite lies he likes to tell me, because he knows they will work.  They are especially successful at grabbing hold of my mind when I am physically diminished.  And they are frustratingly hard for me to fight, particularly because they are so familiar.  They start out as quiet little whispers inside my thoughts and grow until they are louder than most of the reality around me:

You are small.  You are worthless.  You are ugly.  You are damaged.  Your losses are too great for you to recover. Who are you now that they've chipped away more of your body and your identity?

My frustration over these lies is multi-faceted.  I hate how self-focused they are.  I despise the inward direction, because they distract me from the wonderful people right in front of me.  They create in me a sort-of twisted vanity, because I am thinking of myself (albeit unkindly) more than I am thinking of others, therefore making it much less likely that I will reach out to someone when they need it.  I also hate that their familiarity doesn't immediately help me recognize their falsehood.  Shouldn't I be able to disregard them immediately since I've battled them so many times before?  There are times when I am better at the fight.  When I am reading scripture, communing with other believers, and spending my time in service to others and God, I truly am less likely to even hear the lies much less believe them.  But when I am, say, recovering from surgery and my contribution to society consists of taking pain meds and resting a lot, the lies find their home in my heart rather easily.

Fortunately, I am not alone in this battle.  While I wish I was quicker to remember this each time, the Holy Spirit's presence in my soul does help me to recognize these lies for what they are.  In fact, over the past two years, I believe he has given me some reliable weapons against them.

I use the weapon of gratitude to combat self-pity.  When I feel broken or crushed by my losses, I count my blessings.  This sounds cliche', but it is vital to not slipping into despair.  My husband, my boys, my family, my friends, my students, my salvation, my health, my passions, my love of nature and books and food and movies all far outweigh any of my complaints.  And even if all of my list disappeared (which I cannot even fathom), I know that my salvation from eternal death and promise of eternal life would still be enough to cause me to praise God.  For even after Paul lost EVERYTHING, he said, "to live is Christ, to die is gain" (Phil. 1.21).

I use the weapons of joy and truth to combat insecurity and self-doubt.  The truth is that even on my darkest days, God gives me at least one moment when my heart overflows with joy.  When I woke up from this last surgery, I was in intense pain.  The nurses were working hard to find the right combo of pain meds to give me relief, and Ryan was holding my hand and trying to distract me.  It wasn't until around 2:00am the next morning that I started to feel a break from the pain, but during those long hours, I had to keep telling Ryan to stop making me laugh because it hurt.  My sweet husband's sense of humor has given every trial we've been through a level of light-heartedness that has often baffled the medical professionals around us. In those hours before I felt relief, this filled me with joy and reminded me that joy is God's gift to me because he loves me. How can I doubt myself when the God of the universe gives me such beautiful gifts during storms of pain?

And the truth I have been using to fight my insecurity is fairly new.  As I stand in front of the mirror and examine my new and very intense scars, I have stopped seeing my body as mangled.  Instead, I see the map of survival.  My body has made it through NINE surgeries these last two years!  That is so impressive.  God has brought me back to health NINE times!  So even though I have been discouraged by how slow this new recovery has gone, I can see the proof in my older scars that I will heal.  And how can I not see the beauty in my body, when every gash is a testimony to God's healing?  Even my not-flat-enough stomach is evidence that God has blessed me with the ability to carry three boys into this world.  I have started to see the strength represented in each stitch and stretch instead of the "damage."

Finally, I use the weapon of what the Bible says about who God is to combat all the other lies.  The truth is, the first lie is not a lie at all.  I really am small.  When Job finally gives into his friends and asks God why all of this turmoil has befallen him, God doesn't really answer his question.  Instead, God gives Job a glimpse of His power and workings in the universe (Job 39-41 are a truly awe-inpsiring read).  Job answers, "I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted...Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know" (Job 42:2-3).  I am really small in the big picture of God's power and his plan for the universe, but I have gotten to benefit from the most beautiful part of his plan: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16).  While I am small, I am not worthless.  In fact, God deemed that I was worth Jesus' life.  

In light of Satan's most recent attack on my heart, I have realized a new weapon: preparedness.  I know that Satan is going to come for me when I am weak and tired, and so I can prepare myself with scripture, communing with fellow believers, and spending my time in service to others and God.  I can ask forgiveness for not clinging to gratitude, joy, truth, and what the Bible says about God at the first hint of these lies and move forward in the light of those gifts from the God who loves me and would never lie to me.

May God protect you from the lies that easily find their way in your heart.  May you cling to gratitude, joy, truth, and scripture.  And may you see yourselves as beautiful, vitally important children of God.