Letting Faith Arise

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” Lamentations 3:22-24

We want so much to walk by sight, and not by faith! But would knowing the next event in our lives bring any greater peace? I don’t think I would have known peace for years if I had been told in advance that at age 43 I would be stricken with a serious blood cancer. What a blessing it was that God did not allow me to have that information! He protects me by promising to always be with me and to always carry me through the trials; I don’t need to know the future when I can stand on His promises. I don’t need to know the timing of my trials when I can rest in the truth and knowledge that He will carry me through the hard times when they come. I know all of this and believe all of this in my head, but some days, this truth does not rest so easily in my heart. Sometimes, my heart resists fully embracing this truth and the peace that it would bring. Some moments, I can become overwhelmed with anxiety about my situation that I don’t even know how to pray. And I know that I am not the only one. 

About a year and a half ago, I attended a concert by Christian singer Chris Tomlin, and I was struck by a testimony that Tomlin’s pastor Lou Giglio gave on stage. Giglio, who makes wonderful videos on the wonders of creation and who appears to have his life completely together as a faithful Christian, shared that he went through a long period of intense anxiety. His anxiety was so great he could not make it through the night without feeling like he was having a heart attack. His anxiety began to paralyze him physically and emotionally and he could not move through the fear until one day God reminded him of Psalm 46. “Be still, and know that I am God…God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way…The Lord of hosts is with us.” (excerpts from Psalm 46) Songwriter Chris Tomlin wrote a song for his pastor to be used as an encouragement for himself and others, and I have found it to be a great source of peace for myself as well. Reading the Psalms or listening to music based on Scripture can be a great way to get through the times of anxiety, those times when we are so anxious that we don’t even know how to begin to pray. As Tomlin reminds us, sometimes we need to “let faith arise” in our souls to remind ourselves that there IS a healer, that His love IS deeper than the sea, that His mercy IS unfailing, and His arms ARE a fortress for the weak.

Dear God, Sometimes it is so hard to walk by faith. Sometimes my faith seems so small and insufficient that I can hardly remember Your promises. When fear and anxiety threaten to overshadow Your peace and Your truth, Lord, rescue me. Strengthen my faith, open my eyes to Who You are, surround me with Your peace, and shower me with Your mercy and grace. I pray this not just for me, Lord, but for all who struggle with anxiety and fear. In Christ’s name, Amen.

I Lift My Hands by Chris Tomlin

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbNK50T35wY

Be still, there is a healer
His love is deeper than the sea
His mercy, it is unfailing
His arms are a fortress for the weak

Let faith arise
Let faith arise

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God, forever

Be still, there is a river
That flows from Calvary's tree
A fountain for the thirsty
Pure grace that washes over me

So let faith arise
Let faith arise
Open my eyes
Open my eyes

I lift my hands to believe again
You are my refuge, You are my strength
As I pour out my heart, these things I remember
You are faithful, God
You are faithful, God, forever

Victim or Victor?

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” Isaiah 52:7

Robin Roberts, a beloved face of Good Morning America, is watched closely by those living with various blood cancers. In order to combat myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS), she chose an aggressive therapy—an allogeneic bone marrow transplant—for reasons that I can fully understand and relate to, having chosen a similar protocol for myself, not once, but twice now. It is, according to most doctors, the only shot at a cure for those with multiple myeloma. And while that cure is not very high at only 20% (I believe it is significantly higher for Roberts’ cancer), it is, as a dear friend from Australia once wrote to me, “still a glass with something in it!” I recently googled Robin Roberts to see how she was doing, as I had heard she caught a virus this spring while travelling, when I came across a very inspiring quote. She said that she doesn’t have a desire to just be done with her treatment and put it all behind her. Instead, she says, “I feel now more than ever that my life has purpose. I think that I am being used for light and love and resilience. For whatever reason, I’m able to touch people, and I’m so grateful for that.”

For whatever reason, Roberts has chosen to embrace her new normal and to use it as a means of blessing others. She has chosen to be the victor and not the victim. I find myself feeling victimized when I start thinking too much about myself and not enough about others. I find myself a victim when I dwell too much on an uncertain future and not enough on the beautiful present. I find I have a victim mentality when I ignore the Word and try to get through the day on my own strength. As the missionary Amy Carmichael once wrote, whatever our need, there is always a word to comfort us in the Bible—always! Our hearts will be lifted so we can lift the hearts of others. They are not lifted just so that we can be comforted ourselves, although we will be. But our hearts will be lifted so that we have something special—comfort, peace, or  joy—to give away. Our God knows what we need; He has an answer to every request and a promise for every situation. But most amazingly, He knows that our greatest need is still to be used by Him, and He promises to still do that in the midst of our trials, just as Robin Roberts is discovering. Our lives, too, can be used for light and love and resilience if we will shake off the mentality of victimization and ask God to use our lives for His purpose.

Thank You, dear Lord, for using so many wise people to remind me of the truth that I need You now more than ever. I need all Your promises to never leave me, to always work for my good, to always be with me in the storm and never to forsake me, more than ever or I will become a victim to my disease. Use me now, and let my life have the good purpose that You intend for it to have. In the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ I pray, Amen.

When We Can’t Understand God’s Ways

“But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life.” 1 Tim 1:16

Many times in life, but especially after a cancer diagnosis, Christians fall prey to doubting God’s methods. I can think of many examples of self-pitying statements that have flitted through my mind over the years. At first, I wondered why a young mother of four with a relatively healthy lifestyle would be stricken in the prime of her life. Why did He allow this disease to attack me? Everything that reaches me has to go through Him first, so why did He let it through? Then I often wondered why He made me wait so long for healing or for any positive news at all, why He didn’t make the journey go more smoothly (all cancer patients know about delays and unforeseen illnesses such as sinus infections or blood counts that interfere with treatment), or why He let me come so close to death that I wasn’t sure I would see another sunrise. It frustrated me that He had the power to heal me with just a look, a touch, a word, or even a thought, and yet He let me undergo countless rounds of chemotherapy cocktails and two transplants before I could have a temporary reprieve from my illness. Why do some people heal so quickly, some so slowly, and others not at all? These types of questions don’t do anything for my faith. When I ask them, I can almost hear God speaking to me as he spoke to Job: Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place? Have you entered into the springs of the sea, or walked in the recesses of the deep? Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion? God reminds me that HE is Lord, and my knowledge is so limited. As Job said, “Therefore  I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.” (Job 42:3)

I have learned that it is useless to look back and question God, but rather to look ahead and ask: What do You want me to learn from this? And what do You want me to do with it? I haven’t learned all the answers yet, but I do know that my illness forced me to rely on Him and to trust Him more than ever before. I know that my faith has grown, and my priorities are very much altered for the better. I do know that my circle of influence has grown exponentially as people suffering all kinds of trials, from divorce to rebellious children, want to know where my strength comes from. I haven’t learned all the lessons yet, but I have learned that I was not created to know everything; rather, I was created to trust and glorify Him. Rather than grumble and strain against the trials of life, I need to seek His purpose for me so that I can stand with Job and say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21)

“Blessed Be Your Name” by Matt Redman (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Qp11X6LKYY)

Bless You, Father, for loving me so much that You sent Your only Son to die for my sins. Bless You for such an amazing sacrifice, one that caused You so much pain and suffering, so that I can experience hope in my own suffering. Bless You for creating me to glorify Your name all the days of my life. In the name of Your precious Son, Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.

The Miracle of Each Moment

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

On the day that I had been dreading for months—the morning that our oldest son was to leave for college—I awoke with a sad, heavy heart. I didn't want to get out of bed and face the heartache and permanency of the day; it would mark a huge shift in our family, and life at home would never be the same. But as only God can orchestrate, my alarm went off at that moment, and the song “Miracle of the Moment” began to play. I had never heard it before, but the lyrics were striking and convicting. It spoke to my spirit as if God Himself were singing to me, reminding me that there are seasons in life, and this is the season for “letting go”. “We don’t have a time machine…and even if we did, would we really want to use it?” As a mother, my reaction was, “No, of course not…I do want him to grow into the man that God wants him to be. It's time for him to leave the nest.” As a cancer patient, however, it’s harder to chain my gut reaction of, “YES! Let’s go back and change everything and NOT have cancer!” But when I truly reflect on all that has transpired since my diagnosis, on the personal and spiritual growth that our family has encountered and the truly wonderful events that have happened despite three and a half years of transplants and treatments, I am not so quick to wish it all away. One of the greatest lessons I have learned is to appreciate every moment in life. Besides, as Steven Curtis Chapman sings, there is really nothing that I or anybody else can do about the past. “We are who and where and what we are for now, and this is the only moment we can do anything about.” It’s no use pining for the past; what’s happened is history. Life marches onward; life is hard; life is full of struggles. We have no control over time except this moment, right now. Chapman’s advice is to “breathe it in, breathe it out, and listen to your heartbeat” so that we discover the wonder in the here and now. It IS there—right in front of us! We can find a miracle in every moment if we look for it. Besides, “there’s only One who knows what’s really out there waiting” and we should leave our anxieties about the future up to Him. Most comforting is the reality that "HE is out there waiting” –we never need to go through life alone, and in His great love for us, “He has given us a treasure called right now”.

Miracle of the Moment

by Steven Curtis Chapman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rResKXjKqjQ&list=PLEFD0D0208997549D

It's time for letting go 
All of our "if onlies" 
Cause we don't have a time machine 

And even if we did 
Would we really want to use it 
Would we really want to go change everything 

Cause we are who and where and what we are for now 
And this is the only moment we can do anything about 

So breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

There's only One who knows 
What's really out there waiting 
And all the moments yet to be 
And all we need to know 
Is He's out there waiting 
To Him the future's history 

And He has given us a treasure called right now 
And this is the only moment we can do anything about 

So breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

And if it brings you tears 
Then taste them as they fall 
Let them soften your heart 

And if it brings you laughter 
Then throw your head back 
And let it go 
Let it go, yeah 
You gotta let it go 

And listen to your heartbeat 

And breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now 
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment 

And breathe it in and breathe it out 
And listen to your heartbeat 
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you 
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment

Thank You, Lord, for this treasure that we call Today. We don’t know what the future will bring, but You do. We only need to keep our eyes on You, to trust in You, and to rest in Your presence. We can face all challenges in the future with Your strength and Your promise to carry us. Bring peace to those in anxiety, comfort to those who mourn, and joy to those who weep. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

What Do We Want for Our Children?

“We know that for those who love God all things work together for good.” Romans 8:28

I realize that I have already referenced the above Bible verse, but there is just nothing better that comes to mind after my trial today. As a bit of background, about a year and a half ago, when I was about to undergo an allogeneic (donor) stem cell transplant, my husband and I decided to send our two youngest children to school for the first time. We had always homeschooled, as that fit our schedule (lots of travel, especially overseas mission work) and our educational philosophy (classical education, which is not easily available in our rural area), and our lifestyle (my husband used to work evenings when the kids were little, leaving him little quality time with them unless they were at home during the day). What we began with great trepidation and insecurity, even though I had a major in Education and had worked for several years as an Editor in educational publishing, soon became an enormous blessing and, quite honestly, a lifestyle that we easily became hooked on. It was almost traumatic for us to send our two youngest children to school. Our oldest two were at that time in college, one at Wheaton College and the other at the University of Pennsylvania, and they were also dismayed and a bit saddened at our change of lifestyle. It signified a real shift in our family, a true crisis.

Before we could cross over completely and surrender ourselves to a system that we had ignored for so long, we asked friends to come over and pray with us. One couple, who had become strong mentors to our family, gave us the most surprising advice. Most homeschooling parents seemed to believe that homeschooling was a permanent calling from God, and that we should continue to home school no matter what. But we had never seen it that way. We always went year to year, seeking God’s will for our family and never presuming that it would remain the same. Without telling us what to do, this mentor couple said the words, “God is sovereign over your children.” They didn’t need to say more, as we realized the impact of the words. His plan for them is not always the same as ours. He may include pain in their lives as an important way to strengthen their faith. As parents, we always try to spare them from pain, but is that always best? 

As it turned out, that year was full of lessons for them. We ended up sending them to a private classical school (and only because our public school system wasn’t willing to count SAT Subject Tests and the like for credit). Academically, it was everything we had hoped for, and everything I couldn’t provide at the time. I needed the year to recover, to focus on healing. But this rigorous classical school didn’t have a lot to offer in the way of social activities, and so while their education was top-notch, they were greatly missing their friends. It was ironic; the “homeschoolers” who were supposed to be socially deprived, were feeling very socially deprived in private school. But our kids have always had friends in all arenas, and the students at their school were so geographically distributed as to make it unfeasible to get together outside of school hours. It was not only a year of growth, but also a year of waiting for them. Quite simply, they could not WAIT to get back to their former life and their former classes!

This past year, we’ve enjoyed months of homeschooling again (homeschooling in our family means classes in a variety of venues; there is very little that I teach directly at the high school level; rather, I am the facilitator who pulls it all together). My bone marrow transplant was a success, and I have had very few issues since. In fact, I’ve enjoyed a greater quality of life than I have had for several years. Our junior in high school enrolled in many local college classes and excelled; our freshman was thrilled to finally be among her friends and in all the dance classes she had had to give up, and we all loved being home together on the “off” days. Then came the news from my doctor this winter…she’d like me to consider a second bone marrow transplant. I was aghast, as she had told me that I could only have one! How could I possibly have two? “Well, yes,” she said, “You will be the first patient at our hospital with multiple myeloma ever to undergo this protocol.” But I knew she wouldn’t offer it if she didn’t see the need. I have had a rogue protein band for a few months that she has worried about. She wants to be proactive. She thinks I have a 20% chance of defeating my cancer forever if I do this. I sailed through the last transplant. She knows I hate being on drugs. I am young. I have begged her to be aggressive. I have prayed for her to “think outside of the box”. Of course I am going to elect to do this.

But my donors? Last time, it was my oldest brother. I still have a younger brother who is eligible. But so are my three oldest children. I immediately wanted to spare them. What mother ever wants to see her children suffer through something on her behalf? I couldn’t even talk about it with my husband or closest friends without crying. I asked my doctor to just use my brother. She agreed to mark him down as our “first choice” but she said it would be foolish not to test the kids….After all, one of them might have a “marker” that would make the entire procedure so much more successful.

I apologize that this post is so long, but , well, today I took my 16 year old and 19 year old (home for Spring Break) in to have their blood typed. (Our 22 year old had himself tested near Chicago at the same time. Even that simple act, rushing to have it done on the same day, finding his own lab, sending it in, taking full responsibility, brings tears to my eyes…) I knew it would test my love as a mother…. My 16 year old son is so sensitive. I used to call him “Edward the Confessor” (his name is NOT Edward, but this nickname is after King Edward of England) for how he loved to sneak into my bedroom at night to confess everything that was on his heart. He always wanted to sleep with a clean conscience, and somehow confessing to me did that for him. When I was first diagnosed over three years ago and really sick, lying in a hospital bed in our bedroom, he would confess with even more urgency than usual. It both broke and melted my heart, and I thanked God every night that I was still there for him. Well, when he gave blood today—three vials, to be exact—to be typed as a donor for me, he began to feel dizzy. The wonderful phlebotomist knew just what to do; she asked him to lean back, and within seconds of his passing out (!), she revived him with some ammonia-smelling tablets that were taped on the wall just above his head. I was almost traumatized! I mean, he actually passed out!! I thought he was having a seizure or something! She said it happens all the time, and that not nearly enough blood was taken for him to actually pass out from loss of blood… But as a mother, it was tough. After all, here was my baby, doing this to save MY life!

I raged with conflicting emotions…. And a part of me, not the “mother” part, wanted him to move through this. All day long, I kept talking to him about the amazing gift of blood for cancer patients. I told him how many times I had been helped by receiving platelets or reds from donors, and how he ought to think about donating blood to the Red Cross. He looked at me like I was crazy, but I wanted to plant the seed. I know that he will do it for me, even though his first words when he was revived were, “I might not be the best donor!” Even if he passes out or is in pain, I want him to think beyond his love for me. I want him to think about the stranger that he will never meet. It is an amazing thing to save a life (I will personally never know, but my older brother, who was my first donor, signed up for the International Registry after he saved my life, saying that it was one of the single  most important things he has ever done). I want my kids to love the way Jesus loves, and to sacrifice for strangers. I know it is a lot to ask, especially from a mother who has only received and not given. But my God is a God of miracles, and I know that He can do this! And I know that whatever He has planned for my disease is for the “good of those who love Him.” And my children love Him so much! And my friend’s words keep ringing in my ears: “God is sovereign over your children.” I know that His plans for them have much more far-reaching impact than mine could ever have. Whatever His plans are, I know that they are right, they are perfect, and they are for their good.

Dear God, I trust You with all of this. I know that You have used my disease to impact so many friends and family. I know that You will use it for good. For good and for Your glory. I pray that You will use this trial to strengthen the faith of my children. Please use this disease as You will. Please heal me, and all those who suffer from cancer, and use us to spread Your glory. Amen.

Today Is As Good As It Gets

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Matthew 6:34

I always love to hear the inspirational stories that are aired during sports programs, particularly this past weekend when the Superbowl dominated all the headlines. I was fascinated with the story of the head coaches—brothers born only 15 months apart—for the 49ers and the Ravens.  According to one commentator, their father played a huge role in their positive attitude and willingness to take risks, encouraging them to appreciate every moment and reminding them daily as he drove them to school: “This is as good as it gets!”  What I love so much about that comment is that he didn’t tell his sons this at the obvious times in life. It’s easy to feel that “life is good” euphoria when you survey the vista before skiing down the back bowls at Vail, sail on Lake Michigan, or sip pina coladas in the Hawaiian Islands. Those moments are special, but they are not a part of daily life for most of us. The true treasures of our lives are found in our daily relationships and opportunities. The gift that Mr. Harbaugh was giving to his sons was the idea that every day is filled with blessings, every day has the opportunity to become a special memory. My mantra is very similar to the Harbaugh family’s, only I stole it from the Carly Simon song “Anticipation.” At some point nearly every week, her beautiful voice plays through my mind, singing, “So stay right here, because THESE ARE THE GOOD OLD DAYS.” These are the moments and the days that I will look back on fondly as “the good old days”, even if they are sometimes challenging days. I have to resist the temptation to pine away for the past, for the way things used to be before I was diagnosed with cancer. I have to resist the temptation to ruin the memories of today by allowing my thoughts to dwell on the fears of what tomorrow might bring. As Carly sings, “I’m no prophet, and I don’t know Nature’s ways.” We don’t know what the future will bring, but we have today—THAT is reason enough to celebrate. I was especially challenged to live out this attitude during my bone marrow transplant, when I had to live away from my family for more than two months. My mother-in-law stayed with me and cared for me, and I tried to appreciate those days as a special time that I would share with her. Rather than feeling resentful that I was living in exile with the same companion day in and day out, I gave thanks to God for that time to heal and to rest and to grow closer to an amazing woman. God in His mercy had given me the grace to realize that the meals she made, the game shows that we watched together, the books we shared and the sweet pedicures she gave me, would someday become a precious memory. Sure enough, just a few months after my recovery, my mother-in-law discovered that her uterine cancer had returned, and she has been struggling ever since. I was incredibly blessed to have been the recipient of her love and care during some of the best months she may have had left. Just a little more than a year later, I can already look back on those days with nostalgia and give thanks to God. In their own way, they were also “the good old days.”

Carly sings it best: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NwP3wes4M8

Thank You, Father, for daily reminders of Your goodness and care for me. Every day You surround me with gifts of love and friendship, and You meet all my needs. Thank You for this moment, for the life that You have given me, and for the special memories that I will make today. Help me not to dwell on the past or entertain foreboding thoughts of the future, but to “stay right here” and to embrace today. 

Why Pray When We Can Worry?

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4: 4—7

There are days when, humanly speaking, it can be difficult to find reasons to rejoice. Chronic pain, continuing illness, insomnia from medication… the list can be quite impressive, especially for a cancer patient. These are often the days when we are most likely not to want to pray. We often withdraw into ourselves and take the burdens of the world on our own shoulders, forgetting that God is there, waiting patiently to fill our hearts with peace and joy. As Christians, we always have a reason to rejoice. No matter what our circumstances, we can rejoice that we are never alone, that He will never leave us, and that He will always deliver us. If we truly believe that God is who He says He is—and He is!—then we will rejoice at the plan He has for our lives, as His way will always be best. If God is who He says He is, then He will never make a bad choice for us. Surrendering our will to His can be scary, but only if we forget who He really is. On those days when I don’t feel like praying, it helps to be still and think about all of God’s attributes. Reading the psalms reminds me of what He has done and what He promises to do. As the knowledge of who He is fills my soul, I cannot help but rejoice that I have this mighty Savior on my side. And the most amazing part is that He actually wants to hear my requests, no matter how small or how constantly I ask for the same things. In return for my cries and pleading, He gives me His peace. And as the Apostle Paul, who was no stranger to suffering, wrote, this peace of God “surpasses all understanding”. We cannot account for it; we cannot explain how we can feel such peace in the midst of such trouble. But it’s there. Just one more promise and provision from the One who loves us.

Thank You, Father, for the gift of peace. Thanks to You, I can rejoice when the world is falling apart around me. I can hand my burden to You, and I can stand tall and strong in spite of worldly pressures. You are faithful and your goodness knows no bounds. I pray for Your peace to fall upon those who need it today. Draw them close to You and wrap them in Your love. Amen.