Six Weeks

Six weeks ago today I was a hurting unit.   In more ways than one.

At the beginning of March I noticed a lump in my stomach.  I didn't really think too much of it but made an appointment to see my doctor.  A week later, she took one lookand  ordered a CT scan. 

Waiting for the results of those tests are never too fun.  I knew by the look on her face and the speed they got me in that it was going to be impactful news. 

There are words you don't want to hear from your doctor.  Especially when your Mom had Ovarian Cancer in the last year.  Those are the words I did hear:  Ovarian Mass and cancer.  They have no way of knowing if it in cancer or not until they actually get in there.  So we waited.  The mass ruptured.  I made it through the weekend until my doctor returned from a trip.

I told the doctor I wasn't worried.  My mom had Ovarian Cancer and finished Chemo and was doing great!  It's good to know it isn't a death sentence.

I didn't know it yet, but my mom was feeling sick again that week.  She was planning to come up and help at my house while I recovered but she changed her plans at the last minute and went back to Colorado to see her doctor.

Her cancer was back.  She had surgery the day before me.  I tried to keep busy that day.  I worked even though I didn't feel like it.  My dad called and said the news was not good.  The cancer was spreading and the doctor said she probably only had 6-12 months.  We were devastated.  I had a cold rush through my body and some angry thoughts towards God.

The next day, I told the doctor to take everything out she could.  I didn't want ovaries anymore.  Menopause is my 30's sounded pretty good compared to cancer.  She obliged.  My surgery went fine.  It was a borderline tumor that seemed to be contained to the one ovary.  The fluid from the rupture ups the risk a little but the outcome is good.  No further treatment  needed and follow ups every six months. 

I felt guiltily relieved.  As sad as I was about my mom, I was so happy for myself.  I want to live.  I want to be there for my family.  That's probably what scared me most about the prospect of cancer. 

It's hard to feel that way when my mom isn't getting the same opportunity.

I was pretty miserable for 2 weeks.  I did some puking and had an extended hospital stay.  The drugs were not my friends. I couldn't eat.  It was a crummy way to lose a lot of weight.  When I got home, I stayed in bed. 

I knew I needed to head to Colorado but wasn't up to it.  

We felt like 6-12 months was such a short amount of time.  They hoped to try chemo and return to Minnesota but she kept getting weaker.  Finally the doctor said, the cancer is taking over and it's time for hospice.

My sister and I jumped on a plane and got there 4 hours before she died.  I didn't want to go.  I wanted to stay in the safe cocoon of my house and watch Netflix, where I could pretend none of this was happening.

The rest of my recovery was spent at funeral homes, funerals, car trips and family. 

I went back to work this week because it's been 6 weeks.  That's how long they say it takes to recover.  

The incision from my surgery is healing, but it's still tender.  Soon it will just be a scar. 

It's been a month since my Mom went to heaven.  I don't think I feel the full force of that yet.  The scars from that will never heal.

Sixteen

We've been married for sixteen years.
We've been happy.
We've been sad.
We've been broke.
We've been broken.
We've been dreamers.
We've been screamers.
We've been lazy.
We've been crazy.
We've been fun.
We've thought we were done.
We've agreed.
We've agreed to disagree.
We've gained weight.
We've had to wait.
We've had babies.
We've acted like babies.
We've been hurt.
We've been healed.
We've worked together.
We've fought each other.
We've been forgiven. 

We've been loved.

We've been right.
We've been wrong.
We've been changed.
We've been redeemed.
We've been redeemed by grace.
We've been redeemed by God's grace.
We've been married for sixteen years.

Holding On and Letting Go, Part Three

How are we supposed to know if we are holding on to and letting go of the wrong things?  I think it takes a different vision.  We have to get our eyes off of the here and now and look to eternity.  If we could have an eternal, birds-eye perspective of the things we go through in this life it might change what we hold on to.

It's kind of like Monday morning quarter backing or coaching.  I'm sure tomorrow all the Vikings fans will be second guessing Frasier's decision to not go for two or some of Ponder's moves.  It's easy to see now that we know the outcome. 

When I was in High School I was involved in student council.  One of the jobs we did was planning Sno Daze, the winter festival.  We had royalty from each grade that were crowned at a pepfest on Friday during school.  This was a big school with thousands of kids.

So during the pepfest we had teachers crowning the winners.  For some reason, we didn't have it written down so we were just telling them who to crown which in retrospect seems really, really stupid.  It all was going along famously until we crowned the seniors.  We told them to crown "Molly", but unfortunately there was also a girl on the court named "Mari".  You can see how in a loud gym full of high school kids that mistake could be made.  And we crowned the wrong girl!

 After it happened, I felt like the world stopped.  We all kind of freaked.  Then someone suggested that we didn't really need to say anything.  Who would ever know? 

Until someone aptly remembered the Sno Daze edition of the school paper was being handed to students on the way out of the pepfest.  On the front page were the pictures of all the winners.  So, Molly was robbed of her crowning moment.  I think the whole dance line wanted to kill us.  And it seemed horrible.  Really, really horrible.  To the seventeen year old me, it was the end of the world.

Is that how our earthly worries and comings and goings will look through eternal eyes?  I know that's not a perfect example.  The things we go through here can be hard, horrible and sad.  But instead of grasping on to the gracious love of Jesus, we let go.  We walk away and lose heart.  Small decision, by small decision turn to our own way.  We hold on to the ways of the world; materialism, selfishness, immorality and other things when we should be holding on to Jesus.

2 Corinthians 4: 16-18 says,

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

When Paul wrote this, he was suffering.  He suffered a lot through his life and ministry.  He was beaten, imprisoned, persecuted and shipwrecked.  I wouldn't exactly call those light and momentary troubles.  But as he kept his gaze fixed on Jesus and the world beyond this he realized it was nothing.  He was looking toward eternal glory.

I am usually so bogged down dealing with laundry and cooking and people and even church stuff that my eyes are not fixed on what is unseen.  If I could allow God to change my vision through more time in the Bible, I think it would be abundantly clear what to hold on to and what to let go of.

Holding on and Letting Go, Part Two

While we were on vacation this summer, I found myself standing in the closet of every woman’s dreams.  Shelves of shoes and purses.  And drawers full of jewelry.  The owner of this fabulous closet was showing us the shopping bags she brought in while there were fires burning near her house. 

The idea was that if the house was going to burn, she’d go into the closet and start shoving as much jewelry as possible into the shopping bags.  In the same thought she realized it’s too much!  Just let it burn.

When I got home to my own house, I started wondering what I would want to hold on to.  I honestly couldn’t think of much I would care about in my house except the pictures.  Everything else is old, broken or easily replaceable.

However, there are certainly other things in my life that I hold on to.  All this got me thinking that we often hold on to the things we should be letting go of and let go of the very things we should be holding on to.

I am embarrassed to admit how bad my judgment is on such matters.  I hold on to my rights, my opinions, my anger, my time, my money, my kids and my wants like they’re a life preserver.

Equally shocking, I easily let go of prayer, Bible study, commitments, faithfulness, forgiveness and fellowship as if they are of minimal importance.

It seems I have it all backwards.  The things that we need to hold on to are not going to make sense in this world.  It would be like being in the basement during a fire, throwing old potatoes in a shopping bag while letting the fine jewelry and dishes and art to the flames.

Just like we have to let go of the monkey bar to move to the next rung, we have to let go of the things this world values.  Are we holding on to the right things?

I’m not so sure.  I think I might have it all backwards.

“I have learned that faith means trusting in advance what will only make sense in reverse”  Philip Yancey

What I mean, brothers and sisters, is that the time is short. From now on those who have wives should live as if they do not; those who mourn, as if they did not; those who are happy, as if they were not; those who buy something, as if it were not theirs to keep;  those who use the things of the world, as if not engrossed in them. For this world in its present form is passing away.

1 Corinthians 7:29-31

Holding On and Letting Go, Part One

This has been such a great summer.  We’ve travelled, slept in, spent a lot of time at the beach and watching movies.  I’ve enjoyed it so much.

Maybe I partially cherished it just a little extra because I knew today was coming.  The day when all the babies would finally get super fun to hang around.  They sleep at night and like the same shows as I do.  And just when they get super wonderful, semi-helpful and downright fabulous to be around, they have to go to school.

This year for the first time, all of the kids in our house went to school.  I’ve been telling people all year that I’m fine and ready to move on to the next stage, which I am.  Totally I am more than ready.  But this weekend that nagging feeling kept creeping up on me. 

I’m ready to move on, but it’s just so hard letting go.  Just like when you learn to do the monkey bars and you have to let go to grab on to the next one.  It’s a little scary.  I would rather just hang on the bar I already had a good grip on.  I was happy and comfortable there. 

(Google Images)

So it seem that being ready to move on, implies the fact that we must let go.  Today I got up at 6:00 a.m.  What a horrible time to wake up.  I was liking the 8 or 8:30 we got up to in the summer.  We got everyone fed, dressed and ready to roll.

Maren was so excited for kindergarten.

She did her own hair.  I’ve trained her to be independent like that.

They all came out for the obligatory picture.

And then they were gone.  After 13 years of wondering if I would ever get a moments peace or get to go to the bathroom by myself, the house was quiet.  I have to say quiet wasn’t so bad.  It was actually kind of nice.

Then I played for a while.  I caught up with a friend.  I ate a lot of pizza here.

And I walked to my favorite candy shop for dessert.

I got home in time to see happy faces get off the bus and bike back down the driveway.

That’s right, my kindergartner can ride a two wheeler.

Even though letting go can be hard, it seems that life is pretty good on the next monkey bar too.  If I never let go, I’ll never get to grab onto the next ones!  And that would be a crying shame.