Be Like Toby

You do not have to know me for two minutes before you know that I am a sunshine girl. All. Day. Long. I seriously mourn the shortening of days, desperately dread dark seasons, and anxiously await the warmth of the sun on my skin. It is amazing to me how closely my life force seems to be tied to that warm light. It may be a little crazy, but it is medicinal for me. If you were to scroll through my phone you would see pictures of sunrises and sunsets, of sun pouring through trees and lighting up fields of sunflowers. It delights me.  My Mimi always said no matter how bad you feel you need to get outside and get some sunshine every day. Maybe she is the source of my genetic predisposition. I love the light! (P.S. It is 86 days until the time changes back. WOOT WOOT!!!!)

I suppose that in some ways we all share that trait -- a desire for warm, bright days. We love the days where the bills are paid, the family is well, the job is going smoothly, all is right in the world. There are no clouds in our proverbial sky, no storms on the horizon of life, and we want those days to be n-i-i-i-i-i-i-c-c-e-e-e- and l-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-n-n-n-n-n-g-g-g-g-g like a warm summer day. BUT, just like that time change that I hate so much, life is filled with seasons of darkness-- you know, like 2020?!?! The bills aren't paid and you have no idea how they will be. The kids are quarantined for the third time and the cabin fever is strong. Work is, well, let's just say that the Tilt-a-Whirl at Joyland doesn't shake you up NEARLY as much as trying to function in a COVID world. You miss your family. You miss your friends, and for goodness sake, you miss your favorite Mexican Food Restaurant!!! It is dark. It is depressing. And it seems - like it -will last -FOREVER!!! We just want that light back. 

I have to admit I have been wrestling some darkness this week. Lately, it seems like it rains the whole time we are at MD Anderson in Houston making us have to stay indoors. As small as this seems it has a big impact on my coping mechanisms. The news we have been getting has been heavy, too. It feels very dark. The path ahead seems like a poorly lit, seldom traveled path in a heavily wooded forest inhabited by wolves. I can't see ahead, I can't get my bearings, and I have felt a little lost. I hate these moments when I don't have clarity. Ugh.

Today I asked you guys to pray for me and some telehealth appointments. In my last two visits with the surgeon, he has given the strong impression that surgery isn't a great option right now which leaves us with chemo or a trial. I have felt a little trapped and cornered in a dark, dark room. As I joined the call today I noticed that I had a message in my MD Anderson chart. My appointment had changed from the surgeon to his nurse practitioner. Disappointment. Dark. As she joined the call she explained that my doctor's mother had fallen and he had to leave quickly, but that they had reviewed my case this morning and she could share what he was thinking. She began to say that he believes that the progression means we need to consider resection. Wait, what? I thought that wasn't an option?! She shared that there actually may be several options there. I felt it-- a little bit of warmth. She began to describe them to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimmer of light begin to flicker and a little hope begin to bubble. To make a long story short he will be taking my case to the multi-disciplinary board in January. They will talk through the options to determine the best approach. All of the sudden my heart lifted and it was like the sun began to rise a little just revealing a new turn in the path. And that, my dear friends, is the way life works. Just about the time that you think it can't get much darker a light breaks through from an unexpected place. You just have to have your eyes open to see it!

I know that some of you are sitting right there in a dark corner. Your own version of the nuisance has you feeling trapped. Open your eyes and wait with expectation. The time will change again. The light will break through the clouds. The darkness doesn't last forever (it just feels like it). 

As for me? There are lots of unknowns ahead and I still can't see that stinking path, but I do feel a little light breaking through. I was sharing with my friend Beth how I was feeling about that and she sent me this picture of her dog Toby. 

She said, "He searches for any sliver of light. Darkness all around and he rests in the light." 

What a perfect picture of how we should live. The Bible says, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5  Sometimes we feel like the darkness is totally winning, but it CANNOT overcome the light. And that light is Jesus. John 8:12 says, "Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”  Okay, I am following!

So here is my plan. I am going to continue to pray for clarity to know each step I should take (if I cross your mind will you pray that for me, too?)  I am going to keep my eyes wide open so I don't miss the light. I am going to be like Toby and find that warm bright spot in the darkness and then I am going to rest in it. Care to join me? I'll scoot over for you!

Love ya! Mean it!💗

The Black Dot

I recently read a story of an unusual test given by a professor. It went a little something like this.  One day, a professor entered his classroom and asked his students to prepare for a surprise test. They all waited anxiously at their desks for the exam to begin.

The professor handed out the exams with the text facing down, as usual. Once he handed them all out, he asked the students to turn over the papers.

To everyone’s surprise, there were no questions–just a black dot in the center of the paper. The professor, seeing the expression on everyone’s faces, told them the following: “I want you to write about what you see there.” The students, confused, got started on the inexplicable task.

At the end of the class, the professor took all the exams and started reading each one of them out loud in front of all the students.

All of them, with no exception, defined the black dot, trying to explain its position in the center of the sheet. After all the tests had been read, the classroom silent,  the professor began to explain:

“I’m not going to grade you on this, I just wanted to give you something to think about. No one wrote about the white part of the paper. Everyone focused on the black dot – and the same thing happens in our lives. However, we insist on focusing only on the black dot – the health issues that bother us, the lack of money, the complicated relationship with a family member, the disappointment with a friend. The dark spots are very small when compared to everything we have in our lives, but they are the ones that pollute our minds. Take your eyes away from the black dots in your lives. Enjoy each one of your blessings, each moment that life gives you. Be happy and live a life filled with love!”

As I read that tale I recognized the truth of it. It truly does seem to be in our nature to focus on the "black dots" in our lives and miss the blessings all around us. Do you do it, too? I have a running list in my mind of my failures, my shortcomings, my mistakes, and my problems. If I am not careful they can steal my joy.

This week we went to MD Anderson to check on The Nuisance. Because of COVID that trip carries a little more anxiety these days. Rodney is not allowed to enter the hospital with me so I go through the tests, the scans, and the appointments alone. A mind can run away pretty quickly when alone. Yesterday I sat quietly waiting to hear the results of my scans. Once the report was handed to me my mind QUICKLY landed on the words recurrence, mass, increased, malignancy. My pulse quickened, my breathing stopped, my world quivered. I listened as they rattled the options. Things I have heard too many times before. Surgery, chemo, trials... none of which carry guarantees. The room turned into one giant black dot. I listened. I gathered my things. I walked out alone. 

It takes some time for my head and my heart to work things through, but gradually I collect my thoughts and find my center. In those moments I am reminded of a story from my earlier days with the Nuisance about boxing gloves. I am taken to the mat, but I am not alone. Slowly I find my way to my knees, then my feet, then I pull myself up to continue the fight. When I reread the scan today I noticed other words around the black dot. Stable. No new. Slight. Yesterday my mind could only see the black dot. Today I realize that isn't all there is to the story. It is true that I have some recurrences of malignancies. It is true that there is growth. It is true there is cause for concern. There are black dots to be sure. But there are also some spots that are stable. There are no new places noted. There are some things to be grateful for even on a "bad" report. And for that I am grateful. 

Each day you and I are taking a test. A test of perspective. A test of will. A test that will determine the amount of peace, hope, and joy that we will, or will not, experience in our lives. What will we focus on?

Today I was in a sinking spell. The black dot was blocking out my vision so I did what I have learned to do. I opened my bible to marked passages that get my thoughts back on track. I read 2 Corinthians 1:8-11  We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.  Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.  He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us again. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

I was reminded how many times in the past eight years I have felt I couldn't withstand the weight of The Nuisance. So many times I have felt the sentence of death. But I am reminded that all of this has taught me to be fully dependent on the ONE who makes me brave. My doctors cannot save me. I cannot save me. My family and friends cannot save me, but my GOD? He HAS saved me. Over and over. He has done it before and he can do it again. He has delivered me and YOUR PRAYERS have played a part in that. Your prayers help me see the white paper and not focus on the black dots. You and I can give thanks because God always answers our prayers -- even when we may think he hasn't.

I have a literal black dot on my chest. It was tattooed there when I received radiation treatments to make sure the machine was hitting the right spot. It sits beside a scar that runs from my collarbone to below my diaphragm. That black dot can serve as a reminder of the battle or as a reminder of the victory. I choose to see the victory. I choose to see the blessings of provision, of love, of prayer, of healing.

I have been handed a test. It is a piece of white paper with a black dot on it. I will pass this test. I will spend more time writing about the white than the black dot. How about you? Grab your proverbial pen and write about the white space! The black dot is tiny in comparison!