This morning began with a bang. Actually, I should say a crash. Nate lost his balance in the bathroom while I was still sleeping and went down between the sink cabinet and the tub. The weight of his fall pushed his shower chair up against the tub faucet so hard it severed a pipe joint there. Amazingly, he didn’t hurt himself, except for a slight cut on the top of one foot.
Nelson had been up since well before seven and heard the crash before I did, racing in to help his father. I thought of the many times Nate had helped his children get up after little-kid falls, comforting them and giving them the universal parental encouragement: “Hey, you’re alright!” Usually it was true. Now the roles are reversed, his child is helping him up, and the “You’re alright” part is not true.
By the time I arrived, Nelson had Nate back into bed, and everything was calm. Scripture certainly speaks truth when it says, “Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble.” (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)
As we sat together and I held Nate’s hand, I said, “I’m so glad you didn’t hurt yourself.”
He responded, “Oh, I’ve got strong bones,” apparently forgetting his bones have cancer and are extremely frail. I nodded and decided it was me that needed recuperation, not him. He seemed fine.
All eleven of us are coping with Nate’s cancer in different ways. Nate is struggling immeasurably, yes, but the rest of us are struggling some, too. My brother came this afternoon to go through files, both Nate’s personal stuff and his law office records. There are still missing pieces to the puzzle, and Nate can no longer tell us where to find them. We did this file-work in the basement so as not to upset Nate.
Thankfully, we found everything we needed, but the process was stressful, at least for me, partly because we needed to hide in the basement and partly because I’m not a numbers person. I can’t imagine handling all I’ll need to handle. The Lord gave us Lars, though, who is a numbers person, and he’s volunteered to take over for me. Although he says it will be “easy”, I know it will add a measure of stress to his life, too.
All of us are trying to handle the strain of cancer in our lives. None of our kids have complained about that, but every so often I see one or another of them sitting quietly just thinking, not reading, not talking, just staring at nothing. There’s a lot to think about.
As for me, I don’t know what to think. Yesterday while running an errand, I passed an elderly man standing on a corner in the rain with a bent cardboard sign reading, “HUNGRY. HOMELESS. GOD BLESS YOU.” An all-consuming sadness came over me, and I burst into tears so overpowering I had to pull my van to the curb. Having grown up in the Chicago area, I’ve seen many homeless people but have never wept like that.
The only thing to do was to get some groceries and bring them back. As I handed the bag to him, I looked into his eyes and ached all over for his misery. Since I was feeling miserable, too, it seemed we shared a valuable experience in that brief encounter. He thanked me four times and said he was going to find immediate shelter (from the drizzle) and eat whatever I’d put in the bag. “It will taste so good!” he said. His smile showed a half-dozen missing teeth, and I promised to pray for him. Back in the car, as I brought his plight to God, I wept all over again. I still can’t figure it out.
I worry about Nate, wondering when he’ll fall again, and I worry about the kids, hoping they’re talking it through with each other. I worry about myself, hoping I don’t come up short when the needs increase and I have to be stronger than I am today.
But God was ready for all this worry and sadness. He had us find another one of Mary’s Scripture rocks today, just in time.
“The God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” (1 Peter 5:10)
Marg, Two little choruses we used to sing in Sunday School, “Safe Am I” and “My Lord Know the Way Through the Wilderness” have been resounding in my mind these last few days. They have become prayers for you and Nate in these increasingly demanding days. May you 2 dwell on how safe you are in the hallow of His hand and have a peace knowing His “keeping” power. And too, having peace that He knows the way through this wilderness giving strength for each new day. You and Nate have never been safer than you are now, and though going through a wilderness, you 2 have greater daily strengh and “all that you need for tomorrow” than ever. Underneath are His everlasting arms! Blessings on you both, MJ
What a poignant description of here, and “there”….beginning with a fall, and ending with God’s promise to make you “steadFAST.” Nelson helping Nate. Mary helping you. You tearfully helping a hungry person. Grace does come in all sizes…even with missing teeth. And who knows where those cleansing tears come from? Identifying with human sorrow is Jesus’ business, so even now, you must be about your Father’s business. And Lars can about his father’s business, probably very grateful to be needed at such a time as this. I, too, will be spending time today just thinking. You always give us so much to think about.
Margaret,you have been very strong and courageous in the Lord as you walk through this. Don’t be afraid of the days when there are uncontrollable tears. Our mind/body/emotions can handle only so much and need an outlet. Don’t be afraid to let your children see you cry for it will allow them to comfort you and to cry with you for they are trying to be as strong as they see you walking it and need to know that it is okay to cry with each other. Not one of you should be the strong one holding the others up, for the strength can only come from the big strong arms of our heavenly Father who can carry the responsibilites and burdens of grief. I praise the Lord for surrounding all of you with His companionship through each other, friends, family and His word which has been like manna from heaven placed before you even before you knew that you needed to hear it or read it.
“Sufficient for today” Each day you think you are stretched to your limit and giving the most that you’ve got. And dawn comes and the demands are greater, and. . . . you put your shoulder to the plow and IT MOVES. You are stronger today than yesterday and you could never imagine that. How do I know, my dear sister in the Lord? I lived it. And yes, you will learn to do more numbers than you ever imagined. Your children will look at ‘numbers crunching Mama’ and be so proud. I lift you all up in prayer today. Love you.
Your post prompted me to read again of Lazarus and how Jesus was “deeply moved” and how He wept over Lazarus’ death. Not because He didn’t know what would happen next, but because of the heartache and tyranny of death! Did you know that when scientists studied human tears they discovered that the purpose of the tears determined their chemical composition? Tears to cleanse foreign objects are different than tears of sorrow which are different from tears of joy, etc? Tears of sorrow actually have “natural anti-depressants” that cause a literal “lift” in body and spirit. Isn’t God an amazing designer?!
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies” John 11:25
In between Nate’s death and ours there will be painful (for us) separation. But we have a savior who understands our tears. May God bless you and your family.
Margaret, I just became aware of Nate’s illness (and your blog). Just wanted you to know that you and your family are on my heart. May the Lord grant you and Nate tailor-made grace for each step of this difficult journey. And may you have a strong sense of His presence as you walk through the valley of the shadow of death that lies between here and the Celestial City. Sending love and prayers.
I simply must tell you, Margaret, that I hope that in the right time you collect these journal entries into a self-published book. “Millions” need to drink of the rich fountain of your Godly wisdom. (A friend of a friend of yours)
My dear Margaret…if only this journey were not so excruciating, so steep, so rough and exhausting, physically and emotionally. How I wish there was an easier way to pass through the dying process. When I worked as a nurse on the oncology unit, I often held cancer patients in my arms to comfort them. Sometimes the family members needed more comforting than the patient did. We wept together. Your thoughts, fears and tears are normal. Be assured that a host of family and friends are holding all of you up before the throne of grace as you watch and wait, and deal with all the numbers and papers. Psalm 42:5,8: “Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance. The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime. and in the night His song shall be with me–a prayer to the God of my life.” xo
I agree with Jonathan Lyle.
You ALL are loved!
Jim Lowery
Dear Margaret, The Lord sends his angles to us a we need them. Peace unto you and the family.
Dear Margaret and Nate, We continue to uphold you in prayer to our faithful, sovereign Lord and Saviour. Your blogs are such an encouragement, and I had just been thinking the same thoughts about them as Jonathan Lyle. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Heaven become even more precious to all of us. So many ‘treasures’ there waiting for us. “For us to live is Christ, and to die is GAIN.” Our love to Nate and you and your dear family.
This post reminds me of just how difficult the not-knowing was. At this point, we had less than two weeks left. I’m so thankful we didn’t know that at the time, though looking back it was a blessing God didn’t allow Papa’s pain and deterioration to linger. Is this an example of God’s severe mercy? Last night I was at a dinner with some of the mops girls and one of them (whose father-in-law died quickly of liver cancer last year) said that her pastor told her he rarely sees believers suffer for years and years with terminal illness. He said it seems like they go quickly. I hadn’t heard that before. I love you and I’ll see you soon.