She drew in my scar.
Remember, she’s in kindergarten.
She spells funeticlee.
“Jesus will heal you, Mommy.”
Psalm 8:2 “Out of the mouth of babes…you have ordained praise…”
“Jesus will heal you, Mommy.”
Psalm 8:2 “Out of the mouth of babes…you have ordained praise…”
My neighbor, Kelly-Across-the-Street, just wrote her version of the Kelly and Mindy’s Most Horriblest, Wonderfulest Day. You will love reading, as Paul Harvey used to say, the REST of the story.
Today Kelly and I enjoyed playing and weeding together and taught the kids how to play with roly–polys. Once Norah fell over and it was so cutely sad to see her like a little tiny beetle, not able to get up. I am not laughing at her misery, but laughing that no matter what she does and what position she finds herself in, she is adorably Norah. But, she is managing well and we are thankful to see her adjusting to using her left hand for coloring, for patting, for eating.
I had shared with Kelly the wonderful answers to prayer concerning the lump of cancer the Lord allowed the surgeon to see and the lump He allowed Him to feel, so I assured her we would pray very specifically for the healing of Norah’s arm; for no infection, no long-term damage and that all would go well in the weeks she needs to be casted.
Tomorrow is Sunday, then it is Monday.
Wondering what the day will bring,
with the past two Mondays involving
Guess I’ll just keep PRAYING.
The other morning I was so overcome with the beauty and the preciousness of answered prayer that I wept. I had been rejoicing in the news since Monday, but the perfectness of how the prayers were answered didn’t strike me until a few days later.
I had a quick visit with Dr. M. on Monday, because I was concerned with my healing. It seemed a little red and warm to me and I was concerned about infection. He was gracious enough to fit me in for a quick exam in between his heavy load of patients. I graciously made it to his office after dealing with a bleeding cat and a neighbor’s broken arm.
He assured me my scar was fine, then handed me a piece of paper with the final surgery results. He told me that in addition to the 5mm tumor they recovered, he also found ANOTHER tumor that, when sent away, tested in the lab as thyroid cancer.
I was amazed. I asked him, “How did you find the first lump?” He had earlier cautioned us that he might not be able to find the lump that was only the size of a BB and was in the tissue behind the right jawbone. We had asked many, many faithful saints to been praying.
“I just saw it.”
It was JUST what we prayed, that the Lord would open his eyes.
I asked him. “How did you find the second lump?”
He answered, “I felt it.”
It was JUST what we prayed, that the Lord would guide his hands.
However, he did tell me that because there was a tumor that DIDN’T show up on any of the tests but was found during surgery, he couldn’t guarantee that he found all the cancer. He again wished out loud that he could be perfect. We are satisfied for now. We have really learned that this cancer journey is going to be like any other walk by faith, it is going to be step by step.
I am also thankful to report that the pain has subsided to a very tolerable level. On Sunday I was very uncomfortable and asked the Lord to either reduce the pain or give me the ability to endure. I didn’t like that feeling about thinking only about myself, as I become concerned about the pain. On Monday, the pain was reduced to a level that is tolerable, and I began functioning normally and resumed all normal activities.
In reflecting about the specific answers to very specific prayers, I was struck with the utter humbleness of this all. The Mighty God of Heaven, the Maker and Ruler of the Universe, the Father of my Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, saw fit to answer prayers on my behalf. I am so undeserving.
I am further humbled that hundreds of saints, connected through telephone calls, emails and voiced prayer requests in churches around the United States, would pray for MY healing. This humbles me beyond words.
Even as I write, I am weeping at the goodness of God.
I’m even more amazed that the Scriptures teach of that is the goodness of God that leads us to repentance. Romans 2:4 It isn’t that God will strike us down to bring us to Him, He pours out His goodness and love to draw us closer to Him, whether we need grace unto salvation or grace for growth.
Thank you, dear praying saints. you have upheld me. By your prayers I am healing.
“Father God, I rejoice in the fact that you care enough about your people to hear and answer our prayers. I thank you for opening the eyes of Dr M. to find one tumor and I thank you for guiding his hands to find the other tumor. We rejoice, Father, we adore you, we love you. In Your Lovely Son’s Name, Amen.”
How could I have parented for almost 22 years without knowing about these cool things?
Feeling bolstered with her knowledge, I went back across the street, handed the tape and the job off to the squabbling kids. But, with every twitch of the tail, blood splattered all over the dining room, the window, the rug and the kids. I had to go into my room and call my doctor, so I left them alone. They came in on occasion, wondering if they could give the cat any of my Percostat, wondering if they could use the haircutting scissors, wondering if they could use Neosporin. I said No, Yes, Yes, and made an appointment for 3:30pm.
Since Grace used to want to be a nurse, she had to do most of the shaving and repairing.
When the cat was finally shaved and bandaged, not sure if it looked as Kelly had instructed, we let him go, began disinfecting the house, soaking clothing and blankets in cold water, and thought we would enjoy a peaceful lunch.
Jon came to me, begging to take a shower before lunch. He said, “Mom, I look like a Civil War surgeon!” He did, and for once I didn’t have my camera to capture the moment and illustrate his very home-schooled description of his condition.
Beka asked if she could play outside for a few minutes while I made lunch.
Did I say peaceful? The next cry was from Rebekah.
“Mom, little Norah fell off the ledge at her house and broke her arm.”
I hurried across the street, following the sounds of a very distraught little girl. I met Kelly at her front door. She holding a crying child and a diaper bag with a confused look on her face. My extremely capable neighbor, the mother who teaches me things, looked so sad and said, “I don’t know what to do.” A hurting child can do that to a mother, the ache for them is so great, you lose your ability to focus on anything else but their heart-wrenching cries.
I held little Norah while she administered Tylenol and called the pediatrician. Because the break was near the elbow, he directed us to the emergency room. We spent several hours together, doing the things Moms do in times like this, chatting and entertaining a precious little one who is suffering a great deal. I thought it sweet that Norah’s favorite toy was also from Build-A-Bear, an adorably fuzzy gray cat she calls Miss Kitty. She cuddled her all day and made me wish I had brought my monkey.
By 3pm, it was determined that Kelly needed to take Norah to Children’s Hospital.
As we parted in the hospital parking lot, I hugged Kelly and told her it was the best day of my life and the worst. It was the worst because we survived several tragedies, although the kitty tail was awfully unimportant compared to Norah’s precious little arm, but we rejoiced that we were together. We were true neighbors and true friends.
It reminded me of the time, several years ago, when that House-Across-the-Street was sitting empty, and my heart was so lonely I thought I could die. I prayed and prayed for whoever would buy that house and I determined we would be friends, whether the wife wanted to be my friend or not. I knew I needed someone. But, the Lord knew that Kelly needed someone, too. She moved from the other coast with her hubby and two very little kids and was as lonely as I was. It was Friendship at First Sight. Within days, we were in and out of each other’s homes and lives and have shared a great friendship. Today was proof. As we hugged in the parking lot, we both rejoiced in that knowledge that we didn’t have to walk those hard days alone.
Because, I have Kelly-Across-the-Street.
To read her version of the Most Horriblest, Wonderfulest Day click here.
One of the biggest blessings about being a mommy, is that eventually you can turn into a Gramma. A Gramma enjoys all the good things about motherhood, without the responsibility and the financial commitment. Our daughter Jana brought hubby and baby home to help take care of me after my surgery. Brookie was a LOT of help. She entertained me by trying on the shoes by the front door…..anything left out is fair game for a Shoe Fashion Show. (Yesterday, her Mommy was trying to leave the house, but was having a hard time finding a PAIR of shoes. Apparently, Brookie had Cinderellaed them around the house.)
A few weeks ago my son Jon was a little more excited about the upcoming surgery than I actually was.
Since I only was in the hospital for about 30 hours, and they didn’t want the door to hit me on the way out, I wasn’t able to garner as many cool souvenirs as I had hoped. SIGH.
But, I am thrilled to report I did get that lovely bottle of lotion I was eagerly anticipating, the cool name bracelet, earplugs, my own toothpaste (did you know they make it in clear gel?) and
TWO, not ONE, pairs of those hospital socks.
My most prized gift was the bottle of Carra Free unscented Odor Eliminator that Neutralizes Biological and All Airborne Odors. In other words, they were trying to cover up the smell of my projectile you-know-what. What timing, to puke just as the family was standing at the door. Beka was liberally spraying the room while pinching her delicate nose shut. I could see the flaring nostrils of everyone else in the room, while they smiled through clenched teeth.
Dear John, my evening shift nurse, graciously cleaned up mounds of bedding, clothing, and rubber pillows, the bed frame, the floor and I think even the walls. Not sure. I was too embarrassed to look. He was so gracious and kind and didn’t even plug his nose.
He did make me promise to not tell his wife that he knows how to make a bed. I promised to not tell her, I didn’t promise to not tell blog readers.
“You know what it looks like Mom? Let me show you!”
She dug around in the scissors drawer until she came back with this pair of scissors and held them up triumphantly. Later on, she asked me if the doctor used scissors to open up my neck.
It reminds me of a conversation I had in the middle of the night with my angel nurse, Janae. The Lord provided one of His sweetest saints to minister to me hour by hour the night I was in the hospital. I wonder if she really was a nurse, or if she was a real angel. As we were joking about my long, ugly scar, and she encouraged me to wear it proudly because I was alive.
I told her that I didn’t have the same kind of trials that the Apostle Paul had, mine aren’t as great, but I have adopted his attitude. “I bear on my body the marks of Jesus Christ.” (Galatians 6:17). I told her I considered my scar to be one for the Lord Jesus Christ, because He allowed the cancer and I wanted to bring Him glory through the cancer.
Through each stage of this cancer journey I have had to lift up my expectations to the Lord and let Him work as He sees fit. I thought after suffering so nicely for Him the first time, I would be done. I thought that I suffered so nicely the second time that He would heal me. I guess I forgot to ask for no pain. I guess I thought I could suffer only under my terms. I have to repeatedly offer each part of my heart, body and mind to the Lord and let Him truly work as He sees fit.
If He asked me if I was willing to trade the cancer for a little pain, wouldn’t I have said YES? But, He doesn’t ask, because I had already told Him I want to walk by faith, I want to be His, I want to bring Him glory, I want to win souls, I want to be like Him. Why did I offer these valiant prayers with formulas attached?
But, there is always somebody worse off than ourselves, isn’t there? I haven’t had chemo, I haven’t had radiation,; to some dear cancer sufferers I am barely in the throes of suffering. You may think what you are going through is nothing because you don’t have cancer. We must never measure our trials against someone else’s, only against the purpose the Lord has to refine us.
I Peter 1:6, “We greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, you are in heaviness through many trials.” For every trial there is a need a “need be” tailored to fit you.
I remember in the middle of one sleepless night, where I was communing with the Lord, and asking Him why He allowed the cancer to continue indefinitely. I went through almost three years of testing with lumps and stuff in my blood, but they were never able to give me a conclusive diagnosis that I did or did not have cancer. The still small voice that broke through the darkness to answer my wondering heart, “That patience may have its perfect work.”