Not What I Expected

 

It’s been a while. Christmas break turned out to be not what I expected.

The expected part was perfectly lovely. I was able to attend church on the 22^nd and read the Advent Candle liturgy. On the 24^th there was a late afternoon Christmas Eve service. On Wednesday, my son and I went over to Christmas Day brunch and opening presents at the Hemminger household.  That was wonderful. The grandkids had all been sick a week or two before, but now everyone was doing fine except Benjamin, who was still tired and droopy.

Unfortunately, it seems that invisible viruses were still lingering around. I got sick the next evening and Joseph the following morning.

It’s been rather rugged, but both of us are on the mend now and hope to be back to almost normal by tomorrow.

Friday morning, I put out a “please pray” post on Facebook that received so many encouraging comments and promises to pray. Dana picked up some flu supplies for us Friday morning, and Sylvia came by Saturday afternoon to deliver more. (I must remember to always keep chicken noodle soup and 7Up or Sprite on hand in the future.)

I’m grateful for the prayers, encouragement, and help. And I’m still hoping to have a week of feeling good before my last chemotherapy treatment on January 8.

 

Discouraged

 The last two weeks have sort of sloshed on by, the first week all at home except for a lovely lunch out late in the week with friends. This week has been marked by brief daily excursions to exciting places such as the grocery store, the pharmacy, and the doctor.

I love going places. The driving part is fine. It’s just the getting out part that involves walking that exhausts me.

Yesterday’s outing turned out well. I had a less-than-20-items list for Walmart that I leisurely filled in less than an hour. Deciding I deserved a treat, I drove over to my favorite coffee shop (Jude’s, for you locals) to pick up a coffee protein shake and a scone. A friend called, and from there, I drove to the duck pond (Jo Allyn Lowe Park) to enjoy the view and phone conversation along with my treat. I spent the rest of the day resting.

I’ve let myself fall into a funk. I’m tired of being tired despite sleeping 10-12 hours a night. Motivation to do the little things that I can runs low.

Before I sink into a true pity party, though, perhaps some thankfulness will help:

·         I’m thankful that the physical pains of the first week after chemo have subsided.

·         I’m thankful that there is only one more chemo treatment (January 8).

·         I’m thankful for my friends and family that help me and encourage me along the way.

·         I’m thankful for my home. (Recently, I learned of an individual who is homeless and going through chemotherapy. I cannot imagine how difficult that must be.)

·         I’m thankful for meals and protein drinks from Hopestone Cancer Support Center.

I’d rather post when I am not discouraged (that’s the reason for my silence of late). But since discouragement is a part of any lengthy medical treatment that takes you out of the mainstream, I might as well voice it.

And the next two weeks promise to be better. Those are two more weeks than I usually get between treatments. I should feel well enough to attend church services. There will be Christmas with my entire immediate family—and how I’ve missed the grandchildren since I last saw them on December 3.

Now is a good time to remember this quotation by Julian of Norwich, a well-known Christian mystic and anchoress of the Middle Ages: “All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.” I like the emphasis on “well”!

Light in a Foggy Day

 

At 5 am I wake up, recognizing the stabbing shoulder pain that signals the need for my medicine. A protein drink and cinnamon bread accompany the pill, and I go back to sleep for another few hours.

Outdoors there is fog, and my brain matches it today. My personal fog unsteadies my balance and makes me list to the left. I need to be careful, but I make it through morning shower and getting ready for the day without incident.

Retreating to my recliner with a cup of rooibos tea in hand, I open my Kindle to Advent for Everyone: A Journey with the Apostles devotional by N.T. Wright. Therein I find wise reflections by Timothy on what I was pondering yesterday. How amazing it is when God affirms and confirms through His Word what I wondered!

And another part of the message involves staying true to God’s call. Let me explain.

There have been more than a few times in my life in which I knew God was giving me a definite assignment. One was back in 2008 when I was offered the opportunity to leave teaching to go help my youngest brother care for Mom, whose dementia was worsening. I gladly did, leaving Kansas to live with her in her home on John’s Whidbey Island, Washington property. It was like moving into paradise. Yes, caregiving gradually became more challenging, but living a peaceful life in the woods brought spiritual and emotional healing I needed in my life. A book was born out of the five years that followed, Three Corners Has My Cat: Caregiving in Alzheimer’s Time.

Last July, when I learned that my breast cancer of eight years ago had recurred, I realized that God was moving me in an unanticipated direction, away for a time at least from the part-time pastoring he had dropped into my lap back in 2019, and toward a deepening of faith. I knew from my last encounter with cancer that it would be a difficult road ahead, but one that would push me into relying on God much more than I usually do. What else is there to do when suddenly all your plans and projects get stripped away by disease?

That’s where I’ve been since September. First, the mastectomy, and now the chemotherapy. Believe me, I would not have chosen this, but I trust my Savior in allowing another time out from a busy life to teach me lessons in his grace. My hope and prayer are that through my blogging that helps me cope with the endurance test called cancer, you will benefit as well.

 

From Minions to the Middle East

 The mitochondria factory minions have decided to take the day off, but perhaps I can still eke out some thoughts on the late Kenneth E. Bailey, ordained Presbyterian minister and research professor fluent in Arabic who spent forty years living and teaching in the Middle East. Check out his Amazon author page for more credentials.

I had never thought about Arabic being an important language for New Testament studies, but it is. Bailey was able to read and study the Arabic Bible and ancient manuscripts. That, plus his close friendships built over the years with Arabic Christians living in rural villages where ancient customs still prevail, allowed him additional insights into the texts and first-century cultural influences.

I don’t remember how I came across his articles and books, but I’m glad I did. The online articles are not as challenging to read as his books, three of which I own: Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels, Paul Through Mediterranean Eyes: Cultural Studies in 1 Corinthians, and Poet and Peasant Through Peasant Eyes: A Literary-Cultural Approach to the Parables in Luke.

I cannot speak adequately to an important part of his scholarship: the close analysis of Bible text structures. Basically, he explains patterns of writing used by first century Hebraic writers, setting up the passage he is examining in a line-by-line format with explanatory notes on its structure. From that, I learned how exquisitely, for example, Jesus told his parables and Paul’s 1 Corinthians was written. Those patterns of writing help uncover emphases that can otherwise be missed.

But the parts that I could easily understand were his explanations of the culture of the times, which bring out even more beauty within the Scripture passages and sometimes puts a whole new spin on them once we understand their cultural context. For example, the family dynamics in the Prodigal Son parable, and architecture of first-century homes in the Nativity story. That “whole new spin” does not change the meaning of the texts but enhances and deepens our understanding of them.

I’ve often wondered over the years how much of the Bible we don’t quite get because we are reading through 21^st century eyes and are not aware of customs and traditions of the first-century Middle East. What I’ve found from Bailey’s books as I prepared sermons over the past few years were insights that demonstrated repeatedly just how God-inspired and magnificent God’s Word is.  It’s amazing to me that the Bible speaks God’s truth throughout time despite changing cultures, and I love getting “the rest of the story” through understanding more of it through Middle Eastern eyes.

For now, though, since my minions are still on break, I think I’ll take a break, too.

So Grateful

 

This morning, my heart was filled with gratitude for so many tiny things:

• ·         The soft feel of my new fleece bathrobe
• ·         The vegetable glycerin soap that soothes my dry, eczema-prone skin
• ·         The shower of hot water on my bald head
• ·         The comfy clothing I have for colder days
• ·         Feeling good enough to get a few things done around the house

Sometimes it seems like God opens my eyes to joy in the littlest things. It was a glorious way to start the day.

I’ve called cancer treatment the ultimate endurance test. It is so very hard. But for whatever reason, this morning God gave me a joyful reprieve through experiencing deep gratitude.

Chemo Brain Alert!

 Today’s appointment went longer due to various delays. I went in at 10 am, and I was done at 2:45 pm, about an hour later than usual.

The brain fog crept in gradually. First was the weird feeling from the steroids. Then the fog grew deeper with the two chemo infusions. I noticed it as I played a particular Kindle game. The “very easy” level on the Scrabble copycat game got harder and harder.

But despite my chemo brain, I wanted to mark this third treatment day, Wednesday, December 4, because it is exactly three months after my mastectomy on Wednesday, September 4. It’s been a long journey, but there is only one more chemo treatment left. It will be on January 8.

It was lovely to celebrate Thanksgiving, followed by Elijah’s third birthday (December 2, though we celebrated on the first), and Shawn’s 40^th birthday on the third.

The next two plus weeks will be devoted to resting as my body requires.  And then comes Christmas with my family. Fortunately, I did my Christmas shopping early, so all I must do is wrap presents.

And indulge in some favorite old-time Christmas movies such as It’s A Wonderful Life.

 

Interlude

 Have you ever read something that seemed to explain your life with God? That was the case for me when around ten years ago I started reading books by the late Dallas Willard. He was a philosophy professor at the University of California for over forty years. And he was a devoted Christian in the Southern Baptist tradition. That combination surprised me and piqued my interest. If I remember correctly, the first two books of his that I read were The Divine Conspiracy and Hearing God.

Why has Willard’s writing affected me so deeply? Because they spoke to the deepest longing of my heart: to know God more.

One of the things The Divine Conspiracy talks about is a fatal error in modern Western Christianity: the lack of teaching to encourage spiritual growth in the life of the believer. It seems that the modern church lost this vital aspect of the Christian faith. I remember as a teenager longing for more. After accepting Jesus as Lord and Savior of your life, what then? It seemed that the only means of renewal came through a recommitment of your life in an altar call. What then? Once the emotional exhilaration of that moment passed, it was back to life as usual.

The church’s exclusive focus on evangelism (saving souls) neglected the necessary follow up of discipleship. Sure, there were Sunday School classes or small groups that concentrated on learning what the Bible says and teaches. And, yes, those were essential. Life applications were discussed as well as admonishments to read the Bible more and pray more. At the time I didn’t realize it, but I needed a spiritual mentor. I needed help with prayer and with developing a devotional life. Though I didn’t know the verse at the time, I was looking for the inner transformation spoken of in Romans12:2.

Hearing God focused on a big question for believers: how does God speak to us through the Holy Spirit today, and how can we tune in to what He is saying? As I read through the book the first time, I was exhilarated to recognize the various ways God has nudged me along in my quest to know him better. If I were to roughly summarize what Willard wrote, it would be that first and foremost, God speaks through the Bible. He can also speak to us in a variety of other ways, such as nature, circumstances, and people. And he speaks to us quietly through nudges and whispers to our souls. Practices such as spiritual disciplines help us learn the art of listening to our Creator.

I recognize that I may be writing what could seem like a whole lot of nothing in my attempt to not box God into a certain process. His Truth is eternal, but he has limitless ways to convey it to each individual because he knows us so well.

Why am I writing about two Dallas Willard books in a cancer blog? Because his spiritual teaching has mentored me. You see, my life in Christ is what sustains me through the ups and downs of cancer treatment. I’ve had a week of feeling almost better. Tomorrow starts the cycle again where my brain will be fogged by the poisons administered to kill stray cancer cells; and my body will be plagued by exhaustion, pain, and neuropathy. It is hard. It is very hard. But I have peace because of what Jesus has done for me and how he has faithfully drawn me closer in the past and in the present.