Mary’s One Year Anniversary

Posted on February 15, 2015 by Margaret

Many of you have been faithfully praying for my sister Mary and are wondering if there’s any new information about her health. Today marks one year after she and Bervin first heard the words “pancreatic cancer.” So it’s a special day on which to hear directly from Mary:

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In February of 2014, I contracted a fever for no apparent reason, and it spiked to 105 degrees. So after a couple of days when it wouldn’t quit, Bervin and I headed for an emergency room where tests revealed the reason: a blocked bile duct just outside the pancreas. Further tests indicated that a cancerous tumor was growing in my pancreas, and when we learned this, we were devastated.

One month later, on St. Patrick’s Day, I underwent the Whipple surgical procedure at Mayo Clinic, since scans had indicated no visible cancer anywhere but in the pancreas. They removed the tumor, as well as everything around it, after which I underwent 6 months of chemo. Scans at the half-way point came back clear.

We all rejoiced that the chemo seemed to be winning over the cancer! But three months later in November, after completing chemo, scans revealed cancer growing in three new places.

When Bervin and I met with my oncologist in December to discuss my options, she said every case was different, and she couldn’t tell me how mine would go. She just told me to report back when symptoms developed. As a result, my January scan appointment was moved to February. And since I’m still asymptomatic, scans have been put off indefinitely.

I know I still have cancer. And I haven’t yet decided if I even want to know how extensively. Without focusing on scans and stages and clinic appointments, there are actually days when I completely forget I have cancer. I even feel healthy. For this gift I thank God daily.

Several friends have told me they’re praying for a miracle of healing, but I’ve never felt led to pray for that. Others dwell on the fast-growing, doomsday nature of pancreatic cancer. I’ve thought a great deal about both extremes and have decided to land somewhere in the middle. The only perfect prayer is, “Your will be done, Lord.” And his will is what I want, live or die.

Sometimes I think about my having one of the most aggressive cancers that exists and am mystified that I feel this good. I’m leading a normal life, doing all the things I did before my diagnosis and meeting all my former commitments. And I’m feeling just fine.

I don’t know how long this will last, but I view these days as precious gifts from God, every one of them. I say it like that because one of the things he’s taught me is how to live one day at a time. It may sound clichéd, but this cliché is a valuable one.

That’s not to say there aren’t moments when knowledge of my cancer catches up with me (usually during the night), and I’ve wondered how much pain is ahead. I remember Margaret’s husband Nate struggling with the pain of his pancreatic cancer and can find myself getting shaky.

But at those moments I know what to do. I deliberately meditate on Scriptures that will calm my heart – like the 23^rd Psalm: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil” (which includes the evil of pain) “for God is with me.”

This promise and many others work to pull me away from worrying about my weakness, to focusing on the Lord’s strength. Anyone who’s had cancer knows that the overwhelming feeling is one of intense need. Cancer may make us shaky, but I am personally grounded on the Rock that cannot be shaken.

[ Tomorrow we’ll hear more from Mary. ]

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” (Psalm 23:6)

Good job!

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Margaret

Emerald spends time with me whenever her mommy is attending university classes. And while Birgitta is learning, I am too.

A week ago Emerald and I opened a package together that came in the mail. Inside was a generous supply of bubble wrap protecting the contents, and I wondered if she might be ready to pop the bubbles.

As I squeezed a few for her, her eyebrows went up with surprise, and I could see this was a match made in heaven. Because of her love of bubble-blowing, bubble wrap was sure to become a close second.

Pressing my big finger atop her tiny one, I showed her how hard she’d have to press to get a pop, and doubted she had the strength. But in tandem we popped one after another, and she was hooked. When she tried it by herself, at first her finger wiggled and wobbled as she pressed, but eventually one bubble did pop. She threw her hands in the air and shouted, “Good job, bubble!”

And there was my lesson for the day.

As self-centered as most toddlers naturally are, this time Emerald focused on the performance of someone (something) other than herself. I was about to say, “Good job, Emerald!” but she beat me to it with her good-job-bubble, as if she was proud of the bubble and its pop.

Of course there’s nothing wrong with congratulating a toddler on learning something new. But there’s something unusual about a toddler (who is normally quite self-focused) seeing anything at all from a viewpoint other than her own.

God had me in class on bubble-wrap-day and was reminding me that thinking self-first is something I do too much of. And when I think like that, I might as well be a toddler acting in character (rather than a toddler acting out of character as Emerald did that day). I’ve lived too long not to know better.

A few days later, I got the same lesson again.

The two of us were out on the deck blowing soap bubbles when it began to rain. Emerald asked for her mini-umbrella (which sounded much like asking for her “ebola”), and I wondered if she might be able to open and close it herself. She badly wanted to do it.

When we came in the house, we tried it a few times with my hand over hers, showing her how. And sure enough, she finally got it. When she did, her response was, “Good job, ‘ebola’!” And I got the lesson again.

Now my homework is to learn how to think of others not just intentionally but automatically. It’s hard to establish a new habit, but at least God taught the lesson in a truly charming way. And if I need a reminder, I can pull out the bubble wrap.

“We must not just please ourselves… For even Christ didn’t live to please himself.” (Romans 15:1,3)

Praising and Praying with Mary

You’ll hear from me on Sunday night’s blog, bringing you up to date.

“Hay” there!

Posted on February 10, 2015 by Margaret

Back in the 1960’s, I spent 3 summers in California with dad’s brother’s family. My Uncle Edward and Aunt Joyce were always welcoming, not just to me but to many young people.

During those teenage summers, my cousins and I spent most of our time in a very small desert town named Hesperia, where my aunt and uncle had a vacation home. Just a few short blocks off Main Street, we were in the wilds of the Mojave Desert: tumble weed, cacti, Joshua trees, and endless sand.

When we weren’t working our day jobs, we took advantage of the wide open spaces to ride horses and then after dark, would pile into pick-up trucks to hunt kangaroo rats and rabbits.

All this was heaven to a girl from the Chicago suburbs.

Our guy-friends worked as hay bucks, hooking 100-pound bales and stacking them in neat rows on a flatbed truck.

We girls often visited them on the job, bringing chocolate milk and cookies to wherever they were working. Sometimes they’d let us ride atop the bales, an experience much like leading a parade on a decorated float.

The other day while driving on a Chicago expressway, I spotted a truck piled high with hay bales, triggering the memories of those unforgettable summers in the ’60’s. As I drove along, I had fun reminiscing.

Many people say that as we get older, we’re tempted to spend too much time looking back. Soon I’ll turn 70, which means more than 70% of my life will be history. But dwelling on that only leads to believing the lie that my “best years” are behind me.

None of that lines up with the way God wants me to think.

The Bible talks honestly about growing older and how our physical lives inevitably become more difficult. But he also shows us there’s a big difference between an oldster who partners with him and one who doesn’t.

If we’re following him, he wants us to have his perspective: that eternal life begins at the same time earthly life begins. Once a new life has been conceived, the soul never dies. And understanding this puts all of life on a smooth timeline moving seamlessly from life-now to life-then. If we believe this, the emotional burden that aging often brings is lifted, and every year can be a “best” year.

God also offers a deep inner calm, separate and apart from whatever the calendar says we ought to be feeling. And though reminiscing is fun, we should never shy away from eyeing the future… with confidence. As we follow God’s lead, we can continue learning and growing without any gaps — right into eternity.

As for bales of hay in the Chicago suburbs? One day after those 3 spectacular summers had ended, our mailman brought me the best gift ever: a 100 pound bale of hay, sent all the way from Hesperia!