The Curtains

Okay, I have been telling you all that I owe you a story, so before I give you the update on the results of our recent MD Anderson appointment, I must begin with a tale. 

When we began this Nuisance journey, our twin boys, Sawyer and Spencer, were 12 years old. They were old enough to know much of what was going on but still young enough to not understand it all. There were three things that were, and still are, the hardest for me when it comes to The Nuisance. One has been watching my parents and knowing how much they want to rescue me from all this. Another has been hurting for my husband, whose family has already experienced such loss with cancer. And the biggest worry of all has been for my children and how all this would impact them. When I lost my hair, I worried they would be embarrassed. When I was in Houston, I worried they would be homesick. When I was in the hospital, I worried they would be afraid. When I was sick, I worried... well, let's just leave it there. But every step of the way, God has provided. He sent family to care for my boys in my stead. He gave teachers to love on them. He sent friends, and the parents of friends, to entertain them when I didn't feel well. He sent my church and work friends to pray for us and meet our every need. Oh y'all, the list is just so long of how he took care of them.

But one of my favorite things God has done is what I call the gift of The Curtains. If the world's a stage, as Shakespeare said, then God has had a way of opening the curtains only enough for the boys to see the parts of the play they could comprehend at that specific moment. Looking back, I see so many examples of how God was only allowing them to see pieces of the unfolding story.

The boys read my blogs as I posted them and have heard me give my testimony a hundred times. I have tried my best to live this life out loud so that it might help someone else along the way. There have been no secrets. I always tell them what is going on before I share it outside the family, so they are never caught off guard if someone says something to them. Our journey has never been for us alone.  One time, the boys came to me after a speaking engagement and said, "Mom, you didn't tell us that you had a tumor on your heart." I was taken aback. "Yes, boys, you have heard me say that a million times." (But God didn't let them hear it because their little hearts weren't ready.) Another time I heard, "Mom, you didn't tell me us your cancer was Stage IV. That is really serious!" "Yes, we have told you that before." (But in His infinite wisdom, God knew you couldn't hear it until now.") 'Mom, I didn't know that they had to open your chest for our surgery." "Yes, son, you have seen the scars." (But God didn't want you to be afraid.) "Mom, you never told us..." "Yes, we did, but God knew you weren't ready to hear it."

I began to realize that God was only allowing the boys to see and hear what their hearts and minds could handle. Like curtains on a stage, God only revealed enough for them to see the part of the story He was ready for them to see. The parts they could handle. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sometimes they could handle the whole scene; other times, they only needed to zoom in on a few characters or a small portion of the plot. Like a great director, God knew his audience well and created a story that they could comprehend. What an amazing gift.

Fast forward to the past month. When my surgeon called in January to share the multidisciplinary tumor board's results, Rodney wasn't home. The doctor shared the possibility of surgery and then informed me of the concern that the lymph node treated with radiation in 2018 appeared to be growing. Wait, what?!? Lymph node? That wasn't a lymph node. It was just a spot that was growing too close to my carotid artery. No one ever told us it was a lymph node! "How could they not have told us?!" I thought. When I told Rodney what the doctor had said about that spot being a lymph node, he was as surprised as I. When I told my parents and sisters, their first words were, "Wait, that was a lymph node?" Surely there must be some mistake. I began to dig through my records to show that they must have me confused with another case. But there it was. Not on one report. Not on two. But on three different reports. Lymph Node. Well, I'll be. I see what you did there, God. The Curtains.

Now you need to understand what I do with a report when I get it. I highlight it. I underline it.  I search for unknown words and google them and write down their definitions. I compare it to old reports. I make charts and drawings on it to compare sizes of spots from scan to scan. By the time I travel from Houston to Lubbock with that piece of paper in my hand, it is limp from being folded and unfolded, marked and circled, highlighted, and cried upon. There is NO explanation for how I could have missed it except for The Curtains. 

In all his wisdom, God knew that I could not handle the fear or worry of The Nuisance being in a lymph node back then. He knew that it would seem just too much to bear, so He kept that hidden behind The Curtains. "Let her see enough to take action, but don't let her see enough to tailspin," He must have thought. "Show her enough, but don't let her think this is impossible." Because at that time, in 2018, I would have thought it was just too much. My boys were approaching their senior year.  I didn't want to miss a minute. I had one goal-- for that year to be amazing and to witness every bit of it! Thinking that The Nuisance had spread to my lymph nodes would have sent me down a very dark path. It was hard enough to be away from them while receiving radiation in Houston, but to worry about The Nuisance moving through my lymph nodes and spreading through my body would have been a whole other level of fear.  It would have been too overwhelming a "stage." Thank God for The Curtains!

So why now? Why has He pulled back the curtains on the lymph node now? Why not leave them closed? Well, I have three more years of trust tucked under my belt. If The Nuisance was in my lymph nodes in 2018, then I have been given three years of it not spreading beyond the known places. Which indicates that I do not have to shift into panic mode. What God has done in the past has given me faith to trust him with my future. That faith might not be as strong had The Curtains not been in place while the stage was being set. He bought time to not just tell me (because I am stubborn and sometimes don't listen) but to show me that this will be okay. Somehow this will be okay. No matter what. My mind has not raced to the worst-case scenario because my heart and soul are stronger now. I am more rehearsed for the next act.

When I was younger, I always wanted God to just show me what my future held.  Holy Cow! I sure am glad he is wiser than me! Seeing my lot would have scared the britches off of me! I would have quit before I started. I would have given up before I took the first step on stage. And I would have missed the most fabulous blessings along the way. 

So here we are. God pulled back the curtains to allow us to see the possibility of a growing lymph node in addition to the other spots we already knew about. We spent most of last week in Houston doing the biopsy on the lymph node. We know surgery is necessary either way, but it is fast-tracked if the lymph node is involved. And fast-tracked means I would have to be alone. Even with that knowledge, there has been more peace than fear. More trust than doubt. More hope than worry. 

Yesterday we received the pathology report. The Curtains have opened, the doctor has entered the stage and his opening line is the lymph node is okay! No signs of The Nuisance there. Praise God! What peace and joy I would have forfeited if the timing of The Curtain opening had not been so perfect! Surgery, and it's a doozie, is in the future, but it is not an emergency. Hopefully, that means we can get a little further past COVID, and Rodney will be allowed in the hospital with me. Or maybe The Curtains will be pulled back a little further to reveal a miracle. If He can keep me from seeing written words on three reports then He can certainly pull that off as well. We currently plan to go to Houston in June to reevaluate. In the meantime, we will trust the director and enjoy the show! Living As If!

How good to be loved by a God who knows us so well and cares for us so much. I am grateful for The Curtains. 

Bumps and Dents of the Bumper and of the Soul

CRUNCH!!!  Now that's a sound you never want to hear when backing up a vehicle, but CRUNCH is just what I heard. It was Friday evening and I was backing into a coveted spot at the gas station on my way home from work. The place was hopping and it was the one open pump. I turned to look over my right shoulder, hand on the back of the passenger seat. I eased back slowly and CRUNCH, I hit the sneaky little concrete pole that was just short enough to be out of my line of sight, but just tall enough to take out my bumper and my rear tail light assembly. PHOOEY!!! Not the way I wanted to start the weekend.

I exchanged info with the gas station clerk and made my way home. We were supposed to leave for MD Anderson on Sunday and I really didn't have time to deal with the fall out from my little concrete collision. Oh well, no crying over spilled milk (or busted taillight as the case may be). Sometimes it just is as it is. And sometimes, that just isn't good enough for me. 

I remembered another dented bumper from my past and how the body shop had fixed it with the help of a little heat and on Saturday, I decided that I wasn't going down without a fight. Now I know at this point most rational human beings would grab the phone number for a body shop, but I grabbed my phone and started to google DIY videos.  I found several videos of people fixing their bumpers with a little hot water or the heat from a hairdryer. Now I should probably add that my dent was a little more than a dent. My bumper was hanging off the and the dent was more of a large crease, but hey, what did I have to lose?  I decided to give it a try. Let's just say that hot water and hairdryers are better for the head than the "tail". I didn't have much luck. I would need some big guns. A little more research led me to discover a heating tool that might make the task a little easier. I ran to the nearest auto shop and as luck would have it I found the little gem -- on sale even!

Rodney wasn't home and heaven forbid I wait around for help. I like a challenge. I removed the tail light assembly and began heating the bumper that was hanging awkwardly from the vehicle.  I had high hopes for how this was going to work. Except it didn't. Try as I might, I still couldn't get the dent to pop out. Apply more heat. Apply more pressure. No luck.  I repeated this process over and over but was no closer to fixing my bumper than when I began. As the bumper got hotter, so did my frustration. My arms were getting sore, I was sweating, I burned my hand, and I just didn't have the strength to fix it. I was pushing with all my might and getting nowhere. Without really even thinking about it I voiced the thought, "God, I'm not strong enough to do this alone." And just like that, the dent gave way under my hands. With one concession that I wasn't strong enough on my own, it was as if all the strength I needed was suddenly available to me.  I did a little victory dance in celebration of conquering the bumper, ordered the taillight assembly to replace the broken one, and walked away feeling like a conqueror.

We left for Houston the next day for my appointments at MD Anderson. This journey was going to be another test of strength. Thanks to COVID, Rodney couldn't go into the hospital with me. That is bad enough on a regular appointment, but this time I was having a biopsy that would require out-patient surgery.  I would be put completely under and he couldn't walk me in. He couldn't hear the doctor's instructions. He couldn't wait with me until they took me back. He couldn't be with me in recovery. I was by myself. Once again the words I uttered in the garage came spilling into my mind.  "God, I'm not strong enough to do this alone." And just like that concession became strength in dealing with the dent in my bumper, it became strength in dealing with the dent in my soul. Peace replaced fear. Strength replaced weakness. Faith replaced doubt.

2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” We have a tendency to think His power is made perfect in our strength, but the opposite is true.  Only when we realize we can't do life in our own power do we find the true source of strength. And it is a huge relief. I have spent so much of my life being confident in my strength and in my ability and feeling like a failure when I didn't feel strong. I still struggle with that sometimes, but I am beginning to get it through my thick head that HE is the source of power and HE shows off best when I get out of the way and admit I need him.  

My run-in with the concrete pole wasn't an accident. It was an object lesson. It was an opportunity for God to plant a seed to show me the power available to me when I admit, "I can't do this."  God cares about all of our bumps and dents and so desires to give us the strength to deal with them when we call out to him. 

I don't know what has dented your bumper this week, but I know where you can get the strength you need to deal with it. It comes from leaning on the one who GIVES you strength.  "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships,  in persecutions, in difficulties. FOR WHEN I AM WEAK, THEN I AM STRONG." 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

My bumper isn't perfect. A body shop might have done it a little better, but I am going to leave it just as it is. I like having a visible reminder of God's power in my weakness. He is so good. Thank you so much for your prayers as we have traveled this week. We are still waiting on the pathology report on the lymph node (and I still owe you a story on that one, too). We hope to hear soon, but we have full assurance that God is hearing all of our prayers and already has this dent figured out! 

Love ya! Mean it!