To my dear Friends:
For six short months, my life has been colored, shaped and draped in the progression of cancer. I had not expected to be there and am now moving into a new phase and have not really come to a place of complete closure. Is the cancer gone? Is the trigger that began this cancer gone? How will we check for it? How will we live?
The pronoun here is we because this is no longer my thing. My husband is connected with this at the cellular level. If I have cancer, in effect, so does he. Alas, for him the feeling is more helpless because he cannot fix it. The we also includes doctors and nurses, often very pragmatic, fighting for the same outcome, more interested in the battle than I. At a more distant and transitory level are friends and family who have joined the fight through prayer and concern. For them the fight appears to be over and I desire for them to rest for they have been holding the line for us when we could not and are so very important to the fight. Finally, the ultimate part of the we is God. Not just any god but God Almighty, the Lord of Hosts, God, with an army of angels ready to do battle. God who knows how the cancer cell works and what the rest of my days look like. This is the partner that I most depend upon and to whom I need to focus from this point on.
I do not wish to become a part of the tyranny of cancer. It is too easy to make this your life. This cannot be my focal point. I am sometimes angry at the demand that it makes upon me to notice, dote over, medicate, treat, respond and live as if this is the center of my life. I am certain that this is not the purpose of this disease. I believe that we are not to dwell on the cancer but on the life that is in opposition to the cancer.
The first time someone suggested to me that I had a disease that might kill me; my reaction was to fight it and live. Now as I look back I see that there is another reaction that is better, just to live knowing that you will die. For the real tyranny is not in the dying but in refusing to understand the transience of living.
At some level we all know that we are mortal beings but we have been duped into thinking that we have control over the length of our life. We want guarantees that we will live a long, fruitful life. The longer we live the more we see that we are the anomaly. People die all the time and at varying ages. We are alive only by the grace of God. It is very important to get a grip on this. We cannot live our life to preserve it. We must live it as a gift that has an unknown end. I have been diagnosed with cancer and according to one of my doctors, a cure really doesn’t exist. Therefore, I will die of cancer. Don’t bet on it. There is no more assurance of that today than there was the day I was born. Only God knows how and when I will die and He knows better than to reveal that to me.
So how do I live? How do I face each day with joy and excitement? I know of only one way, to know that eventually I will live in heaven. There the living is about living, here it is about dying. If my focus is on here then I will die an eternal death that will be terrible. If my focus is on heaven then I will die to a mortal life and begin an eternal life that will be beyond my wildest dreams.
How can I know that I will live in heaven? An important question if I am going to base my happiness on such a premise. I know because I have the promise in God’s word that He has made a place for me[1]. God has promised me that if I would make Jesus Christ Lord and Savior of my life then I would go to heaven[2]. That’s it! Too simple for some, to difficult for others, but 18 years ago God got a hold on my heart and helped me to understand that I should not be lord of my life and I needed to allow Jesus to rule my life. I made that step but did not always follow through. That relationship with Christ has grown consistently over the years. Not only has He given me the assurance of eternal life but He orders my days and gives meaning to what seems so meaningless in itself on this earth.
There are many tyrannies in this world. Things that bind us all and make us feel like we have no hope. Some live with debt that looms over them like a thunder cloud waiting to strike. Others have family relationships that only bring heartache and never a kind word. Many have cancer or chronic health problems that threaten their very existence on a daily basis. Don’t let these be tyrannies. Let go of this world. We are here to prepare for heaven but what good is the preparation if you will not go there? Jesus Christ is real, alive and wants to be your savior as well as mine. It is a free gift, take it[3].
Many of you who will read this have already taken that step and for you this letter is really to remind you of the importance of that step and to live it out daily. Many others of you have been supporting me during this time and this is my gift back to you. You have championed my cause through difficult times and I applaud you all, but what good will it do if you do not follow me to heaven. God knows your heart, He is just waiting for you to let go of it and give it to Him.
With all my love, Marj.
[1] John 14:2
[2] John 14:6
[3] Ephesians 2:8
Showing posts with label Letters for 2005. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letters for 2005. Show all posts
Trusting God - December 27, 2005
To me dear Friends:
So this is cancer. It’s not really about the illness, it’s about the cure or treatment. Like many other problems, it seems like the problem was almost a co-habitant, not overbearing but eventually deadly. Then it became noticeable. From that point on it could not be ignored, had to be treated, now an enemy. This Thursday will be my last treatment. I’m not sad that the process is coming to an end and yet there is something emotional about that. An anxiety; what’s next, what will stay messed up in my body, will it come back, will I ever feel right again, how will we check, who stole the carefreeness of my life? Then the ultimate question is, "why all these questions?" Everything is circling right now. I want so badly to get back to my life; one that does not include weekly visits to the doctors’ one that stays somewhat the same from day to day, one where illness is a cold, the flu or a boo boo on my finger. I want to look at future things not the here and now, plan for classes, develop programs, teach others. I am ready, but. But what? Am I hesitant or just smarter? Do I know something now that I did not know before this weird season of my life? Does the knowing matter?
What I know is both positive and negative at the same time depending on what it causes me to do or not do. Life is not determined by my planning for it to be long or short. This I should have already known because quite a while ago I planned to make it short but God had another idea and He made it better and longer. Now I look to make it longer and He has reminded me that it could be shorter so don’t put off the important stuff. So maybe the question is, “What’s important?” What is important is what will make a difference in eternity for others. Can I help someone know who the Lord is? Can I disciple someone? Can I make friends with a non believer and show them how much God loves them? These are important things to do. Whether my life is short or long, my time must go to this.
I have also learned that there are no guarantees. Because I am well today and able to do whatever I want, does not mean that I will be so tomorrow. The converse is also true. Therefore, work out today as best you can. Tomorrow, you can work out tomorrow’s work. I must trust that God will direct my days as He sees fit. If He brings things into my life that limit me, then I will be limited. If He enhances my days then the day is highly blessed and I can relish in what we have accomplished together.
I have learned also that God has given me a short recall for dread and a long recall for grace. This is truly a gift. I am a thinker; it is hard for me to turn my mind off at any time. If you have that kind of mind, you know that it can be a curse. But God has done something wonderful in me. He has continually reminded me of His grace. He keeps me looking up and excited. I quickly forget the bad or uncomfortable. This keeps a smile on my face most of the time. I wonder why this gift feels untenable. I don’t trust it. Therefore, I am anxious about the future. My level ground has been rock strewn and filled with briars. But God, there’s that term again, has led me through without scratches or stubbed toes. Why don’t I trust Him more?
This is my focus. I must trust Him. God Almighty has proven trustworthy in so many ways. In Genesis, He said He would bring a redeemer, and He did. Jesus was born a man so that we could have eternal life. He said He would be faithful and He has. He has brought me through many rough times and never let me do it alone, even when I didn’t know He was there. Sometimes you can not see God looking ahead, you have to look back. Every time I look back I see how God has orchestrated the circumstances of my life so that I would love Him and be secure in His love for me. So now, I must turn and look ahead. Can I see the back of God as He leads me down the next path? Do I trust to follow His leading? If I am anxious, can I look carefully at what part of the future is not pleasing to God and remove it before I start? Can I give Him full and complete care of my body so that He is dealing with the cancer and the side effects?
This is my prayer request to you. Pray that I will seek God’s will. Pray that I will trust Him. Pray that you will know Him as well if not better than I do. Pray that in the time following this time, cancer will not return to my body unless it is God’s will to use it for His good pleasure. Thank you for all that you have done for me during this last four months. You have been the strength of God in human form. I love you all.
With all my love, Marj.
So this is cancer. It’s not really about the illness, it’s about the cure or treatment. Like many other problems, it seems like the problem was almost a co-habitant, not overbearing but eventually deadly. Then it became noticeable. From that point on it could not be ignored, had to be treated, now an enemy. This Thursday will be my last treatment. I’m not sad that the process is coming to an end and yet there is something emotional about that. An anxiety; what’s next, what will stay messed up in my body, will it come back, will I ever feel right again, how will we check, who stole the carefreeness of my life? Then the ultimate question is, "why all these questions?" Everything is circling right now. I want so badly to get back to my life; one that does not include weekly visits to the doctors’ one that stays somewhat the same from day to day, one where illness is a cold, the flu or a boo boo on my finger. I want to look at future things not the here and now, plan for classes, develop programs, teach others. I am ready, but. But what? Am I hesitant or just smarter? Do I know something now that I did not know before this weird season of my life? Does the knowing matter?
What I know is both positive and negative at the same time depending on what it causes me to do or not do. Life is not determined by my planning for it to be long or short. This I should have already known because quite a while ago I planned to make it short but God had another idea and He made it better and longer. Now I look to make it longer and He has reminded me that it could be shorter so don’t put off the important stuff. So maybe the question is, “What’s important?” What is important is what will make a difference in eternity for others. Can I help someone know who the Lord is? Can I disciple someone? Can I make friends with a non believer and show them how much God loves them? These are important things to do. Whether my life is short or long, my time must go to this.
I have also learned that there are no guarantees. Because I am well today and able to do whatever I want, does not mean that I will be so tomorrow. The converse is also true. Therefore, work out today as best you can. Tomorrow, you can work out tomorrow’s work. I must trust that God will direct my days as He sees fit. If He brings things into my life that limit me, then I will be limited. If He enhances my days then the day is highly blessed and I can relish in what we have accomplished together.
I have learned also that God has given me a short recall for dread and a long recall for grace. This is truly a gift. I am a thinker; it is hard for me to turn my mind off at any time. If you have that kind of mind, you know that it can be a curse. But God has done something wonderful in me. He has continually reminded me of His grace. He keeps me looking up and excited. I quickly forget the bad or uncomfortable. This keeps a smile on my face most of the time. I wonder why this gift feels untenable. I don’t trust it. Therefore, I am anxious about the future. My level ground has been rock strewn and filled with briars. But God, there’s that term again, has led me through without scratches or stubbed toes. Why don’t I trust Him more?
This is my focus. I must trust Him. God Almighty has proven trustworthy in so many ways. In Genesis, He said He would bring a redeemer, and He did. Jesus was born a man so that we could have eternal life. He said He would be faithful and He has. He has brought me through many rough times and never let me do it alone, even when I didn’t know He was there. Sometimes you can not see God looking ahead, you have to look back. Every time I look back I see how God has orchestrated the circumstances of my life so that I would love Him and be secure in His love for me. So now, I must turn and look ahead. Can I see the back of God as He leads me down the next path? Do I trust to follow His leading? If I am anxious, can I look carefully at what part of the future is not pleasing to God and remove it before I start? Can I give Him full and complete care of my body so that He is dealing with the cancer and the side effects?
This is my prayer request to you. Pray that I will seek God’s will. Pray that I will trust Him. Pray that you will know Him as well if not better than I do. Pray that in the time following this time, cancer will not return to my body unless it is God’s will to use it for His good pleasure. Thank you for all that you have done for me during this last four months. You have been the strength of God in human form. I love you all.
With all my love, Marj.
My Mother's Joy - November 30, 2005
To my dear friends:
I was sitting here thinking of the holidays and had a great urge to call my mother. That urge happens on rare occasions when the environment reminds me of her. She died in 2000 but the Christmas song I was trying to learn has a “torch” song type start to it and my mom liked the torch singers of her day quite a bit. She would have sparkled to see our Christmas Concert this year. I can see her eyes glow and the little impish smile she would get when she felt she should not have this much fun. My mom taught me about joy.
If you understood, her life there was no justification for joy. Widowed by 40, she lost ten children to poverty and disease. She raised the other five children on her own working many hours daily at menial jobs to give them a life. So where did the joy come from? It was a choice. I know that sounds trite but she still chose it instead of being bitter. She lived through enough bitterness in her 20’s and 30’s. It was no longer an option. For her, joy was a discipline. She knew the same God that I know but did not always depend on Him for her future. I wish she had, it would have been easier for her, I know.
True joy can only come by depending on something that will never change, leave, fail, or stop. There is only one who can do that, God Almighty. I am thankful this Thanksgiving for the God that brought me salvation through Jesus, who is forever faithful, and has promised to leave me never, who does not stop loving me even when I am unlovable. He has sustained me through my illness. As I lay down each night, hymns go through my head and remind me that He loves me. As I am lying awake in the middle of the night with pain, He speaks scripture into my head. When I am busy doing tasks to take my mind off the circumstance of life, He brings someone into my life to tell me that He appreciates my ministry. When I am laughing, because to live in this world for the short time we are prescribed is really funny, He laughs with me and bathes me in His love and care. This illness has only deepened that relationship. I never had any inclination of turning away from God but that was because He caught me first and let me know He would walk with me. I did not have to ask.
Nevertheless, what does joy look like? It is a warm place at the bottom of your heart that says you will be okay. No, it's not necessarily that you will be healed. I don’t know what the outcome of this cancer will be. I may be healed here on earth or I may wait for Heaven. I will be okay. Cancer has an element of hopelessness. Even though many go into remission or are “healed,” many get it repeatedly, if they survive the treatment. My hope cannot be rooted in being healed. What makes my heart warm is that God has promised me Heaven. Dying to this world is only a move to Heaven. Cancer helps make you hungry for heaven. Joy is also a continued dialogue with someone you love. God uses scripture, songs, preaching and friends to dialogue with me all day. There is no other voice that can bring you joy. There is nothing but hope in God’s message. His dialogue with me is one of love, “I will be with you.” One of peace “I bring you peace,” one of rebuke “Keep your eyes on Me.” One of faith “I will never leave you or forsake you”. Joy is also a reaction. One of the medications I have been getting lately has the quality of anxiety to it. This is difficult for me because it is foreign and it took me a few days to figure out what was going on. Once I understood it, I chose not to let it be my reaction. My body still felt anxious but I know there is no reason for it. I would filter all my words through God’s filter before I said anything. That anxiety did not really materialize to hurt others even it if was a fight for me from time to time. If I will filter all of my life through God’s filters, it will be quite peaceful. We are only here for a vapor. How are we living? I want to live to make a little difference. I want to live for God, sold out and no longer living for me. I want to finish panting with nothing left to give. I want to finish thankful for the run, thankful for the time, thankful for the friends, thankful for the gift of life. I will choose joy.
I am also thankful for you, because you are God’s voice and hands to me. You are the warmth, love and care that God wants to impart to me. I don’t know why you do it, but I love it and find it very necessary to my healing. I pray that this thanksgiving is special for you and that as the advent of Christ’s birth begins you will praise God for His Son.
With all my love, Marj.
I was sitting here thinking of the holidays and had a great urge to call my mother. That urge happens on rare occasions when the environment reminds me of her. She died in 2000 but the Christmas song I was trying to learn has a “torch” song type start to it and my mom liked the torch singers of her day quite a bit. She would have sparkled to see our Christmas Concert this year. I can see her eyes glow and the little impish smile she would get when she felt she should not have this much fun. My mom taught me about joy.
If you understood, her life there was no justification for joy. Widowed by 40, she lost ten children to poverty and disease. She raised the other five children on her own working many hours daily at menial jobs to give them a life. So where did the joy come from? It was a choice. I know that sounds trite but she still chose it instead of being bitter. She lived through enough bitterness in her 20’s and 30’s. It was no longer an option. For her, joy was a discipline. She knew the same God that I know but did not always depend on Him for her future. I wish she had, it would have been easier for her, I know.
True joy can only come by depending on something that will never change, leave, fail, or stop. There is only one who can do that, God Almighty. I am thankful this Thanksgiving for the God that brought me salvation through Jesus, who is forever faithful, and has promised to leave me never, who does not stop loving me even when I am unlovable. He has sustained me through my illness. As I lay down each night, hymns go through my head and remind me that He loves me. As I am lying awake in the middle of the night with pain, He speaks scripture into my head. When I am busy doing tasks to take my mind off the circumstance of life, He brings someone into my life to tell me that He appreciates my ministry. When I am laughing, because to live in this world for the short time we are prescribed is really funny, He laughs with me and bathes me in His love and care. This illness has only deepened that relationship. I never had any inclination of turning away from God but that was because He caught me first and let me know He would walk with me. I did not have to ask.
Nevertheless, what does joy look like? It is a warm place at the bottom of your heart that says you will be okay. No, it's not necessarily that you will be healed. I don’t know what the outcome of this cancer will be. I may be healed here on earth or I may wait for Heaven. I will be okay. Cancer has an element of hopelessness. Even though many go into remission or are “healed,” many get it repeatedly, if they survive the treatment. My hope cannot be rooted in being healed. What makes my heart warm is that God has promised me Heaven. Dying to this world is only a move to Heaven. Cancer helps make you hungry for heaven. Joy is also a continued dialogue with someone you love. God uses scripture, songs, preaching and friends to dialogue with me all day. There is no other voice that can bring you joy. There is nothing but hope in God’s message. His dialogue with me is one of love, “I will be with you.” One of peace “I bring you peace,” one of rebuke “Keep your eyes on Me.” One of faith “I will never leave you or forsake you”. Joy is also a reaction. One of the medications I have been getting lately has the quality of anxiety to it. This is difficult for me because it is foreign and it took me a few days to figure out what was going on. Once I understood it, I chose not to let it be my reaction. My body still felt anxious but I know there is no reason for it. I would filter all my words through God’s filter before I said anything. That anxiety did not really materialize to hurt others even it if was a fight for me from time to time. If I will filter all of my life through God’s filters, it will be quite peaceful. We are only here for a vapor. How are we living? I want to live to make a little difference. I want to live for God, sold out and no longer living for me. I want to finish panting with nothing left to give. I want to finish thankful for the run, thankful for the time, thankful for the friends, thankful for the gift of life. I will choose joy.
I am also thankful for you, because you are God’s voice and hands to me. You are the warmth, love and care that God wants to impart to me. I don’t know why you do it, but I love it and find it very necessary to my healing. I pray that this thanksgiving is special for you and that as the advent of Christ’s birth begins you will praise God for His Son.
With all my love, Marj.
Learning to Live - November 13, 2005
To my dear Friends:
There is a song that has always meant so much to me because of one single line “I will never be the same again”. It means a lot to me because I have seen that when God changes a heart it is for ever. It doesn’t change back. So I know that I can never become what I was. And in all reality, I never want to. For who I am in Christ is a completely different person. The other day that song came to mind and I realized that the meaning of the phrase has other significant meanings that did not bring peace to my heart.
As I go though this Chemotherapy, the fight gets harder to maintain any semblance of health. This last bout knocked my white blood count down so low that it would not come back on its own so I had to take daily shots of Neupogen to build it back up. The side effects are similar to the chemo, therefore, prolonging the amount of time that I am in pain. And I thought “I will never be the same again” but this time the meaning was crushing. I have not mourned the loss of health. Partly because I have tried to keep my exercise level high and my diet correct. I have pretended that the tri-weekly poisoning was not taking much of a toll. Compared to some, it is not. But then, how do I understand all the little mechanisms of the body that are being forced on and off by the drugs. What makes me think that things will just go back to “normal” when all this is done? Then again, does that matter?
Most think that it is enough to be alive and I think that is somewhat valid. I like living and I love the people that God has brought me to know. There was a time, before my song, before I knew Christ, that I did not like living; there was no hope no sense of life. Dying was not a bad idea, life was painful. But God has shown me His love and given me His grace. I am in love with the life He has given me. I know where I am going and I am not afraid to die but what about the here and now? Am I ready for a different life here? Am I enough in love with the elements of this life to live it differently if I need to? All these are just questions. I do not have the answers. I do know this, however. God has given me the grace that I have needed thus far and I don’t think He is going to withhold it in the future. God is faithful even when doctors, drugs and life are not. Thank you for all your prayers, cards and thoughts. I live on them all
With all my love, Marj
There is a song that has always meant so much to me because of one single line “I will never be the same again”. It means a lot to me because I have seen that when God changes a heart it is for ever. It doesn’t change back. So I know that I can never become what I was. And in all reality, I never want to. For who I am in Christ is a completely different person. The other day that song came to mind and I realized that the meaning of the phrase has other significant meanings that did not bring peace to my heart.
As I go though this Chemotherapy, the fight gets harder to maintain any semblance of health. This last bout knocked my white blood count down so low that it would not come back on its own so I had to take daily shots of Neupogen to build it back up. The side effects are similar to the chemo, therefore, prolonging the amount of time that I am in pain. And I thought “I will never be the same again” but this time the meaning was crushing. I have not mourned the loss of health. Partly because I have tried to keep my exercise level high and my diet correct. I have pretended that the tri-weekly poisoning was not taking much of a toll. Compared to some, it is not. But then, how do I understand all the little mechanisms of the body that are being forced on and off by the drugs. What makes me think that things will just go back to “normal” when all this is done? Then again, does that matter?
Most think that it is enough to be alive and I think that is somewhat valid. I like living and I love the people that God has brought me to know. There was a time, before my song, before I knew Christ, that I did not like living; there was no hope no sense of life. Dying was not a bad idea, life was painful. But God has shown me His love and given me His grace. I am in love with the life He has given me. I know where I am going and I am not afraid to die but what about the here and now? Am I ready for a different life here? Am I enough in love with the elements of this life to live it differently if I need to? All these are just questions. I do not have the answers. I do know this, however. God has given me the grace that I have needed thus far and I don’t think He is going to withhold it in the future. God is faithful even when doctors, drugs and life are not. Thank you for all your prayers, cards and thoughts. I live on them all
With all my love, Marj
Courting God - October 26, 2005
To my dear Friends:
Seems like I have a need to be reflective when chemotherapy sessions are about to happen. I guess they remind me that I have cancer. I don’t often feel like I have it until I pass a mirror and see this little bald head. Then I remember. I am beginning to relax with this procedure. I can’t say that it is fun but then it’s not supposed to be fun.
Tomorrow will be my third treatment and that is a nice place to be. It marks the halfway point. The treatment does not hurt, though it does hold me captive for many hours. The next week is quite uncomfortable but causes me to stay working because being still is just too bothersome. When I look at that as the worst side effects then, I have very little to complain about.
I believe that the prayers of so many people have been the cause of such an easy reaction to this therapy. I know that God has been there when I most needed Him. He has taken away pain, anxiety, anger, and fear simply by my request. He has driven me deep into His heart. I have learned that He has great compassion and desires my dialogue with Him.
About eight weeks ago, I was eager to study Hosea, so my Bible study tackled it. Old Testament prophets are not that easy to understand so it was not a simple task to take on. We worked diligently and discovered that Hosea is a great love story.
God has amazing capacity and a driving desire to love and be loved by His people, nor is He passive. He is not the big ruler in the sky who can only hand down judgment. He will do whatever it takes to win you back to Him. I am comforted by the thought that I am called beloved. It doesn’t matter to God if I have cancer or if I am bald, or have two black eyes (which I do right now). God loves me, He always has. For that reason, my days look the same now as they did before I knew that I had cancer.
Cancer will not change my relationship with God because He is an active participant. When I don’t feel like reading my Bible, He makes me hungry for His word. When I am too tired to sing, He brings a song to my heart. When I feel completely unloved, He loves me with the actions of my husband, a card from a friend, or an email from one of you. He reminds me all the time that He cares enough to meet my needs. How lovely it is to be loved by God. This time of deepening, my relationship with God is one to be cherished. I know that I will never be the same again: and I am glad.
Thank you for your prayers, they are felt. Thank you for your cards and emails; you are an instrument of God’s own hand. Thank you for your love; you are the mirror of God. Without you, how would I know what God is like?
With all my love, Marj.
Seems like I have a need to be reflective when chemotherapy sessions are about to happen. I guess they remind me that I have cancer. I don’t often feel like I have it until I pass a mirror and see this little bald head. Then I remember. I am beginning to relax with this procedure. I can’t say that it is fun but then it’s not supposed to be fun.
Tomorrow will be my third treatment and that is a nice place to be. It marks the halfway point. The treatment does not hurt, though it does hold me captive for many hours. The next week is quite uncomfortable but causes me to stay working because being still is just too bothersome. When I look at that as the worst side effects then, I have very little to complain about.
I believe that the prayers of so many people have been the cause of such an easy reaction to this therapy. I know that God has been there when I most needed Him. He has taken away pain, anxiety, anger, and fear simply by my request. He has driven me deep into His heart. I have learned that He has great compassion and desires my dialogue with Him.
About eight weeks ago, I was eager to study Hosea, so my Bible study tackled it. Old Testament prophets are not that easy to understand so it was not a simple task to take on. We worked diligently and discovered that Hosea is a great love story.
God has amazing capacity and a driving desire to love and be loved by His people, nor is He passive. He is not the big ruler in the sky who can only hand down judgment. He will do whatever it takes to win you back to Him. I am comforted by the thought that I am called beloved. It doesn’t matter to God if I have cancer or if I am bald, or have two black eyes (which I do right now). God loves me, He always has. For that reason, my days look the same now as they did before I knew that I had cancer.
Cancer will not change my relationship with God because He is an active participant. When I don’t feel like reading my Bible, He makes me hungry for His word. When I am too tired to sing, He brings a song to my heart. When I feel completely unloved, He loves me with the actions of my husband, a card from a friend, or an email from one of you. He reminds me all the time that He cares enough to meet my needs. How lovely it is to be loved by God. This time of deepening, my relationship with God is one to be cherished. I know that I will never be the same again: and I am glad.
Thank you for your prayers, they are felt. Thank you for your cards and emails; you are an instrument of God’s own hand. Thank you for your love; you are the mirror of God. Without you, how would I know what God is like?
With all my love, Marj.
Jesus My Friend - October 15, 2005
To my dear friends:
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16 NIV)
Thursday I will have my second chemotherapy treatment. It has been three weeks since the first and I would be the first to admit that it was not as physically challenging as I had expected. I believe that prayer from so many people had very much to do with that. There were only about five days where my joints and bones were in considerable pain because the chemo attacks the bone marrow. After that, I was strong and grateful.
Now I face round two. My body is not in the same condition as the first bout. My blood counts are noticeably lower. I am fighting off a cold and I know what to expect. Actually, I don’t know what to expect. I anticipate dropping deeper into pain for a longer period, and I am anxious.
A friend said to me one day, and I am sorry that I don’t remember which one, that this ordeal would help me get closer to Jesus’ suffering. I don’t think I can even approach the suffering Jesus went though, nor will I feel holier through this suffering. What I do know is that I have a better understanding of His burden and Gethsemane. I can’t imagine knowing all that would go on there and still be willing do so. How can I fathom that kind of love? I know the dread that I feel over what I know and don’t know. It doesn’t compare with what Jesus went through. I am awe stuck and I bow to praise Him for doing something so awful, with His eyes wide open, for someone like me.
For me, comfort comes in the fact that Jesus knows my anxiety. He knows how to give me grace. He is not aloof, or unknowing. I can simply groan and He will know the ache in my heart. A wise priest whose tears and sweat were beyond me will wipe my tears. Oh how easy it is to feel His arms around me when I realize that His toes have been to the same line and He has not backed off, but willingly stayed to the test. I will go also to the test before me, but I will have Jesus walking with me, speaking words of comfort in my ear, Jesus, my high priest.
I know that you are praying for me. I feel it. Please continue, I write to you so that you will know how to pray. There are times when I do not know how I should pray; the thoughts and feelings are overwhelming. I need you to speak what I can only weep. Thank you for your faithfulness and love.
With all my love, Marj.
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are - yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16 NIV)
Thursday I will have my second chemotherapy treatment. It has been three weeks since the first and I would be the first to admit that it was not as physically challenging as I had expected. I believe that prayer from so many people had very much to do with that. There were only about five days where my joints and bones were in considerable pain because the chemo attacks the bone marrow. After that, I was strong and grateful.
Now I face round two. My body is not in the same condition as the first bout. My blood counts are noticeably lower. I am fighting off a cold and I know what to expect. Actually, I don’t know what to expect. I anticipate dropping deeper into pain for a longer period, and I am anxious.
A friend said to me one day, and I am sorry that I don’t remember which one, that this ordeal would help me get closer to Jesus’ suffering. I don’t think I can even approach the suffering Jesus went though, nor will I feel holier through this suffering. What I do know is that I have a better understanding of His burden and Gethsemane. I can’t imagine knowing all that would go on there and still be willing do so. How can I fathom that kind of love? I know the dread that I feel over what I know and don’t know. It doesn’t compare with what Jesus went through. I am awe stuck and I bow to praise Him for doing something so awful, with His eyes wide open, for someone like me.
For me, comfort comes in the fact that Jesus knows my anxiety. He knows how to give me grace. He is not aloof, or unknowing. I can simply groan and He will know the ache in my heart. A wise priest whose tears and sweat were beyond me will wipe my tears. Oh how easy it is to feel His arms around me when I realize that His toes have been to the same line and He has not backed off, but willingly stayed to the test. I will go also to the test before me, but I will have Jesus walking with me, speaking words of comfort in my ear, Jesus, my high priest.
I know that you are praying for me. I feel it. Please continue, I write to you so that you will know how to pray. There are times when I do not know how I should pray; the thoughts and feelings are overwhelming. I need you to speak what I can only weep. Thank you for your faithfulness and love.
With all my love, Marj.
Start with Friends September 15, 2005
To my dear friends:
It is interesting to me how something like a little cancer cell can wreak such chaos in our simple day to day of life. For some reason, from the very beginning, I was never truly attached to this insufferable little cell. I knew I had something going on with my body that needed to end, but cancer was not what I had expected. When we were able to see it on a screen, I still was sure that it was a harmless endometrial tumor. I’d had those before. I knew I would face surgery but that is only a blip in time. It was not until the pathology report came back “Ovarian Cancer” that I had the slightest inkling that things had gone wrong.
I remember sitting there in the doctor's office, I knew something was wrong because, even though my doctor is an expert, he doesn’t talk unless he has to and now I was sitting in his office chatting. My very pragmatic nature said, “Okay, let’s rid ourselves of this.” My emotional side immediately went to grief recalling the death of my sister from Ovarian Cancer. I reached for Lee and listened to my doctor try to minimize the chaos in my head. Immediately there came a wave of love from my God. “I've gotcha, don’t panic.”
I walked out of that office with my head clear and began to grieve. What I was grieving about, I am not sure: The loss of time to do chemo, the changes to my body, the intensity of the health problems I would face, the sadness and fear that Lee would endure during this time, the limits on my freedoms of time, space, acquaintances, and activities.
Then I started to think about you people, those who will get this email. How can I help them understand that I am okay with this? Okay means, not afraid, not blaming, and not questioning. I could tell them, --that is what I am doing.
You see, I know that God has me. He never let me go; I didn’t fall when I got this little beast because His arms were securely surrounding me. He has slowly wrapped them around me day after day as I read His words and talk to Him. Because He has never let me go, and promises that He won’t, I do not have to be scared. I have not once asked Him why I have this cancer; He told me the answer, to glorify Him. Oh, He didn’t give me cancer unless you would consider that when He knit me together in my mother’s womb, He let that little gene go through. He might have, but then He let the one that makes me able to tolerate chemo pretty well go through too. I cannot bless God for the second unless I am ready to bless Him for the first. So how can I question Him or blame Him for my living long enough to make one of these cells all for myself? Maybe this is why He gave me no children, no one to pass the gene along.
I think that the hardest part of this whole journey, thus far, has been giving up control to doctors. Many have said, "I bet you know everything there is to know about this cancer." No, I know very little. I don’t have to know, the doctors do. God will lead them. I know that sounds naïve but I don’t want to spend my time researching something that they already know about. I must just listen, question, and obey. When something is overwhelming, I have to quit trying to manage it myself.
The next part was giving up ministry. I have really struggled with that. I love to do what I do. I feel whole, I feel useful, and I feel close to God. In some little way, I am showing my gratitude for Jesus’ sacrifice for me. But the first thing I was told was to "slow down, do less, stay out of the cold, and limit access to people". This was very hard for me and I sat down, thought for a good long time, and drew some lines in the sand. Those lines have moved many times in the last month, not once without anger and heartache. I do not give up easily. The most emotional part has been this area. I just realized a few days ago how much anger there was in my being hemmed in, trimmed down and isolated. As I looked at that anger, I began to understand that I would not let God control this and yet He was in fact controlling it. You see, He loves me and He will do what He needs to do to take care of me. Even if I draw these little lines and tell Him not to cross over, yet with one step, right over my line, He picks me up in His great big arms, and moves me to safer ground. I like an impetuous kid, yell, (or cry) in anger and beat Him on the shoulder. He doesn’t go back because I need to be where He has put me, and I know it. I think I am ready to say thank you, but it has taken time. Some things can still make me cry.
You are the people that have been those loving arms. I am awe struck by your kindness, love, and concern. Your questions, hugs, emails, snail mail, funny cards, beautiful cards, silly notes, and wonderful verses have often caught me off guard, changed my thinking, and inspired me to new resolve. Your love has overcome any anger, sadness, loneliness, or bitterness I might have had. You have made yourself the image of Christ. I am forever thankful to you. Because of you, this journey has been more than positive and I expect that it will continue. I will let you in on it along the way.
With all my love, Marj.
It is interesting to me how something like a little cancer cell can wreak such chaos in our simple day to day of life. For some reason, from the very beginning, I was never truly attached to this insufferable little cell. I knew I had something going on with my body that needed to end, but cancer was not what I had expected. When we were able to see it on a screen, I still was sure that it was a harmless endometrial tumor. I’d had those before. I knew I would face surgery but that is only a blip in time. It was not until the pathology report came back “Ovarian Cancer” that I had the slightest inkling that things had gone wrong.
I remember sitting there in the doctor's office, I knew something was wrong because, even though my doctor is an expert, he doesn’t talk unless he has to and now I was sitting in his office chatting. My very pragmatic nature said, “Okay, let’s rid ourselves of this.” My emotional side immediately went to grief recalling the death of my sister from Ovarian Cancer. I reached for Lee and listened to my doctor try to minimize the chaos in my head. Immediately there came a wave of love from my God. “I've gotcha, don’t panic.”
I walked out of that office with my head clear and began to grieve. What I was grieving about, I am not sure: The loss of time to do chemo, the changes to my body, the intensity of the health problems I would face, the sadness and fear that Lee would endure during this time, the limits on my freedoms of time, space, acquaintances, and activities.
Then I started to think about you people, those who will get this email. How can I help them understand that I am okay with this? Okay means, not afraid, not blaming, and not questioning. I could tell them, --that is what I am doing.
You see, I know that God has me. He never let me go; I didn’t fall when I got this little beast because His arms were securely surrounding me. He has slowly wrapped them around me day after day as I read His words and talk to Him. Because He has never let me go, and promises that He won’t, I do not have to be scared. I have not once asked Him why I have this cancer; He told me the answer, to glorify Him. Oh, He didn’t give me cancer unless you would consider that when He knit me together in my mother’s womb, He let that little gene go through. He might have, but then He let the one that makes me able to tolerate chemo pretty well go through too. I cannot bless God for the second unless I am ready to bless Him for the first. So how can I question Him or blame Him for my living long enough to make one of these cells all for myself? Maybe this is why He gave me no children, no one to pass the gene along.
I think that the hardest part of this whole journey, thus far, has been giving up control to doctors. Many have said, "I bet you know everything there is to know about this cancer." No, I know very little. I don’t have to know, the doctors do. God will lead them. I know that sounds naïve but I don’t want to spend my time researching something that they already know about. I must just listen, question, and obey. When something is overwhelming, I have to quit trying to manage it myself.
The next part was giving up ministry. I have really struggled with that. I love to do what I do. I feel whole, I feel useful, and I feel close to God. In some little way, I am showing my gratitude for Jesus’ sacrifice for me. But the first thing I was told was to "slow down, do less, stay out of the cold, and limit access to people". This was very hard for me and I sat down, thought for a good long time, and drew some lines in the sand. Those lines have moved many times in the last month, not once without anger and heartache. I do not give up easily. The most emotional part has been this area. I just realized a few days ago how much anger there was in my being hemmed in, trimmed down and isolated. As I looked at that anger, I began to understand that I would not let God control this and yet He was in fact controlling it. You see, He loves me and He will do what He needs to do to take care of me. Even if I draw these little lines and tell Him not to cross over, yet with one step, right over my line, He picks me up in His great big arms, and moves me to safer ground. I like an impetuous kid, yell, (or cry) in anger and beat Him on the shoulder. He doesn’t go back because I need to be where He has put me, and I know it. I think I am ready to say thank you, but it has taken time. Some things can still make me cry.
You are the people that have been those loving arms. I am awe struck by your kindness, love, and concern. Your questions, hugs, emails, snail mail, funny cards, beautiful cards, silly notes, and wonderful verses have often caught me off guard, changed my thinking, and inspired me to new resolve. Your love has overcome any anger, sadness, loneliness, or bitterness I might have had. You have made yourself the image of Christ. I am forever thankful to you. Because of you, this journey has been more than positive and I expect that it will continue. I will let you in on it along the way.
With all my love, Marj.
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