Tag: cancer

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Chapter 4: A Community of Support

“One of my best medicines is the family surrounding me …. For them all I am truly thankful. We continue to realize that coming out here to live with our children and be with the grandchildren was the right decision. The little ones keep us smiling.” (I wrote this in one of my blog updates during cancer treatment.)

It was over Christmas holiday with our sons and their wives and families that we had to tell them our news of my cancer diagnosis. Our sons and daughters-in-law expressed their desire to be a part of the whole process of my cancer treatment; they wanted to help as much as possible. They asked us to keep this in mind as we made the decision of where I would have treatment because their personal involvement would be impossible if we were a continent away from one another. Our home was in West Virginia, in the east, where we had lived for 12 years but our sons and their wives and families lived in southern California, where we had previously lived and where our sons grew up.

In the final analysis, after much prayer, thought and research, we decided to go to one of the premier cancer centers in the country which was also minutes from the homes of both our sons. Instead of our children being a continent away for us, we ended up a continent away from our own home and work in West Virginia, but in the right place for me to be for this long, difficult journey of cancer treatment.

A community of support is tremendously important to one in need, whatever that need might be. My need was physical; I needed good medical care. But I also needed loving support.  I got the best of medical care and the best of love and support from our family.

Not only did I have the best care from my husband, children and the added benefit of little grandchildren full of life and unconditional love; I had many, many friends who supported me by prayer. Some who lived far from me sent cards and gifts sometimes, too, just to encourage and cheer me during those long months of not feeling well, living under the cloud of cancer treatment. During a difficult stretch I wrote in my blog:

God has been good to me, to us. I have been bolstered by prayers and love from many people, and grace and peace from God. I admit I’ve had some emotional times the past few weeks but nothing earth shattering. I’ve learned over the years to rest in the Lord a lot more than I used to!

It was a great comfort and strength to me to have my best friend and companion, my husband Randy, at my side, helping me make decisions, yet not running ahead of me. Rather, he walked with me step by step. His love and support cannot be measured. It was and is much more than I can ever put into figures or words. Really, that is what love is all about. My cup overflows with blessing because of him.

Though I will not do other postings from this chapter on “A Community of Support,” in the published book I will share from my own experience what I have learned over the years about the importance of having a community of support around one, especially in times of need, with suggestions on building one if one doesn’t have such a support system in place. We are not designed by God to go it alone, we need others and it is never more evident than when we are in need because of some trial we are going through. I hope you will pursue these thoughts with me as I share them in the published form of my book, Brokenness to Beauty: Transforming Your Brokenness into a Beautiful Life.

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Chapter 3: On Prayer–Personal Petition

Do prayers affect outcomes? We wouldn’t pray if we didn’t believe they did. From the testimony of scripture and my own personal experience, I can say with absolute certainty, yes, prayers make a difference. I whole heartedly agree with James when he said:

“Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed. The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with. Elijah, for instance, human just like us, prayed hard that it wouldn’t rain, and it didn’t—not a drop for three and a half years. Then he prayed that it would rain, and it did. The showers came and everything started growing again.” (James 5: 16-18, The Message)

Praying for Oneself

            “Prayer is weakness leaning on omnipotence.” W.S. Bowd

As I drove away from the doctor’s office yesterday I felt like crying. And I did a little. I had just been to the cardiologist who gave me the results of three heart tests I had done two weeks ago. I already knew I have irregular heartbeats and was put on …          medication but the tests also showed my heart is weak and functioning at 35 % [ejection fraction] rather than a much higher percentage. So I was also put on another heart med .… So I felt my throat tighten up and I silently cried out to the Lord as I drove away …. My cardiologist said she doesn’t know if the weakening of my heart is related to the chemotherapy I received (there are two drugs which I did receive that can cause heart problems). Before my cancer surgery last February I had heart tests done and they came back normal. My current test results are being sent to my oncologist …. I am not overburdened with this news but I am saddened. A feeling of mild sadness lays on me. I think it is similar to what the psalmist may have felt sometimes when he would say, “How long, Lord?”  I really can’t describe my feelings. I only know how I respond to my feelings, and that is to cry out to God, who hears. Sometimes I don’t even have words; I don’t even know what I am feeling to be able to form words. But that is ok, because he listens to my heart. I don’t need words. He gives me peace. I am praying and asking God to heal me of these conditions, strengthen my heart and regulate the beats. (http://jacquesjourney.blogspot.com/  brackets and emphasis mine).

Somewhat different from intercessory prayer which focuses on praying for others, is prayer for our own selves, asking God about things which are dear to our hearts or for needs which are sorely felt. How often I have cried out to God for myself!

“I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time—waking and sleeping. It does not change God—it changes me.” Attributed to C.S. Lewis.

I pray.

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Chapter 2: Importance of the Bible–Time to Breathe

I remember one especially difficult juncture in my cancer treatment. I did not have enough information to feel comfortable with the direction I thought the cancer surgeon was going, in fact, I had a lot of fear, so I postponed the decision until I looked into it further, with much prayer. Here is where putting into practice what the Bible says played a big part in getting me through a distressing time. When the issue was resolved, I wrote in my blog:

And as to fear; fear will come. It is how we deal with it that is important. I went to the Lord (Phil.4:6), recognizing the fear and anxiety rising up in me. I cried out (to God) for help, wisdom, direction, knowledge. I turned to my most trusted confidante and wise counselor, my husband Randy, and we talked and prayed. His insights and encouragement helped me work through a very difficult situation. I sought out others I respect for their counsel, especially those who have gone through these same waters. I continued to seek sound medical advice.

It is agonizing going through the trial, feeling the suffocating fear, the desperate need. But God has proven Himself once again to be compassionate, and faithful to hear our prayers. He gave the information we needed. He gave it within the time frame I asked.

I have found the scriptures to be true and trustworthy. When we put them into practice, those things we cannot do on our own, God does! When I was overcome by fear, but gave my fears to God, I got God’s peace instead, just like He said (Phil.4:6). He guided me to a wise decision. This is just one example. There are so many more.

The issue of how to deal with troubles and suffering in life is spoken to in the Bible and if we pay close attention we can learn to transform these ugly, hurtful things in life into beautiful things which lift up and encourage us and others, and bring glory to God.

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Chapter 2: Importance of the Bible–Good Habits

During my fight against cancer I remember well my struggles with fear and pain and uncertainty every day, crying many tears to God. I can see myself sitting in the bedroom we occupied in my son and daughter-in-law’s home while I went through a year and a half of cancer treatments. Though my husband was able to be with me a few months of that time, most of that year and a half he was back in West Virginia working, while I was in California. Every day I turned to the Bible and poured out my heart to God in prayer as I read His Word. I once wrote in my blog:

The scriptures, God’s words to us, sustain me daily. They are our life. They bring the only light to this dark path.

I meant it then and I believe and practice it today. My routine of reading the scriptures, which I continued through cancer treatment, stood me in good stead by getting me back into the Word of God. It nurtured me daily, calling me back to the foundation of my life, giving me not only encouragement and hope, but perspective. The scriptures acted like a compass guiding me through the wind and waves of the storm in which I found myself. Even when I couldn’t see farther than my own hand, so to speak, the compass of God’s Word enabled me to continue to move in the right direction, in hope and trust in the Lord. It gave me that which was beyond me, beyond my limited vision and understanding.

In the midst of trials we can lose perspective. Pain and suffering tend to make us look inward and our world, as a result, contracts. It becomes very small, since it consists of and revolves around only “me”. Me, myself and I can be very poor company. We need that which pulls us up and out beyond ourselves because in suffering we are in danger of sinking into the morass of self-pity. Self-pity is nothing to trifle with; it is destructive and from the devil, that old deceiver. It must be dealt with immediately and ruthlessly.

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Chapter 2: Importance of the Bible–God Calling

C.S. Lewis said, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts to us in our pains: It is his megaphone to a deaf world.”

Traumatic interruptions in our lives, like cancer or other illnesses, economic reversals, suffering and death of loved ones, abandonment and divorce—name the struggle—these can be doorways to greater understanding and growth when we allow our devastation to be turned to education by God. When I found myself flat on my face before God because I had been dealt a blow which had knocked me flat, I realized there is no One else to go to but God. I cried out to Him, humbled my heart before Him and an amazing thing happened. The whole tenor of my experience began to change from despair to hope by letting God teach me, comfort me and draw me to Himself.

” It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I may learn your statutes.” (Psalm 119: 71)

From other women cancer survivors I heard comments to the effect that when they were diagnosed with cancer they were devastated; it was the hardest time of their lives. Cancer caused them to cry out to God in their desperation and fear; they were thrown onto God as never before and they found He was there for them. Things in life they had previously taken for granted suddenly took on new, deeper meaning. Looking back, they were actually glad for the experience—a shocking thought—because they now had a closer walk with the Lord, one which they felt they might not have had apart from going through that time of suffering. To them, this experience was worth the pain and suffering to be closer to God. That should give us pause (God’s megaphone?).

I have heard similar comments from people who have gone through other types of trials as well; there are many kinds of suffering in the world, not just physical.

Marj, a friend of mine, relates that she and her husband were happily married for many years, and since they had no children, their world revolved around the two of them. As she puts it, “It was Bill, God and me.” Then Bill was diagnosed with cancer. They bravely fought it together, Marj by Bill’s side through it all, and as Christians they trusted God to bring Bill’s healing. But it didn’t come. My friend lost the love of her life. She was cast upon the Lord—alone. Four years later Marj says, “You know, it used to be Bill, God and me. Now I look up and say, ‘Sorry Bill, God’s first now, he’s taken over your place.'” You know, I think Bill is in heaven smiling. Marj grew in her relationship with God when she had nowhere else to go for comfort and strength in her grief, and He was there.

These times of trial can be opportunities for us to turn to God and reach out to Him as never before. Those who do, as I did, as Marj did, find grace for the difficulties; strength, comfort and God’s presence with us through the dark valleys.

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Chapter 2: Importance of the Bible–Decisions, Decisions

When I made the decision to praise God, it was really the decision to submit to His Sovereignty in my life, just like my dad did when he gave me up to God. All the rest of my decisions have been shaped by that initial choice, and my emotions trailed along behind. The Bible played a key role in this decision and the consequences flowing from it.

“For whatever was written in earlier times was written for our instruction, so that through perseverance and encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope”. (Romans 15:4)

These two things, perseverance and encouragement of the scriptures, are important factors in getting through tough times. The scriptures are full of encouragement because they are about God’s dealings with people, people just like you and me. Here is an excerpt from my first blog, written days after my first cancer surgery:

What is hopeless and impossible with man is not so for God, for all things are possible with God. Am I scared? Of course I am. Do I have anger and fears? Absolutely. I cry to the Lord who hears and understands, and who alone can do anything about them. I cast myself on his mercy. If others hadn’t been in similar situations we wouldn’t have the scriptures which are full of such agonies. Now I choose to affirm my faith in the God Who Is. And He highly values faith.

Encouragement of the scriptures only comes from reading the scriptures on a regular basis. This is what I was talking about earlier, when I said I continued my reading in the Psalms after my cancer diagnosis. I had made reading scripture a part of my life, really hearing what it has to say and letting it sink in. No one hands encouragement of the scriptures to you apart from reading or hearing the scriptures. From the Bible I learned about what others have gone through down through the centuries, many of them much worse than my circumstances. I read how God was present with them and helped those who trusted in Him, and I gained encouragement in the midst of my scary situation.

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Chapter 2: The Importance of the Bible–Not by Myself

“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.” (Isaiah 40:8)

Opening my Bible, I turned to the next Psalm in my daily reading, which began, “Praise the LORD! I will give thanks to the LORD with all my heart…” (Psalm 111:1) and my heart said, no, I don’t want to, I don’t feel like praising God. I feel like I’ve just been punched. I’d rather demand why this is happening to me. I have a heavy weight someone just dumped on me and I definitely do not like it, especially since it can kill me.

It was the day after I received a diagnosis of breast cancer. I was sitting in the bedroom of our son’s home, 3000 miles from our home in West Virginia. My husband and I had been on our way to the airport the day before, stopping at the doctor’s office to get the results of my biopsy on our way out of town. We were heading to California to spend the Christmas and New Year holidays with our children and grandchildren and had been anticipating this time with great delight; it is hard being a continent away from the ones you love the most in the world. Now not only did we have to absorb and manage this news of cancer for ourselves, but we had to share it with our two sons and their wives. It seemed extra difficult to find the right time because it was the Christmas season.

As I read the Psalm that morning with these feelings and thoughts of hurt, confusion, anger and fear steam rolling through my head and heart, another part of me simultaneously acknowledged, “Yes, I will praise the LORD, because I know that is just what I need to do, it is what I must do”, especially since I was so hurt and didn’t want to do it.

I already knew, from years of living with MG, a severe muscle weakness, how important it was that I do choose to praise God in the face of these conflicting and dark feelings. If I only praise God in the sunny meadows, when life seems nice and comfortable, but refuse to praise Him in the dark valley where fear and pain stalk, I would be a hypocrite. Besides, it makes no sense to turn my back on God, cutting off my only source of comfort and strength and hope right when I most needed these things.

That moment, I chose to praise God; a sheer act of the will. Let me tell you, my emotions were not on-board at that point. This was not an easy decision. It was a struggle. But I knew that if I chose according to how I felt at that moment, I’d end up in the depths of despair and would have a long hard battle to dig myself out of that pit. This was not academic head knowledge. I had been on the edge of that dark pit of depression many times. I knew from experience not to go there.

When I made the decision to praise God, turning my back on that dark, deep pit of anger and fear, it was really the decision to submit to His Sovereignty in my life, just like my dad did when he gave me up to God. All the rest of my decisions have been shaped by that initial choice, and my emotions trailed along behind. The Bible played a key role in this decision and the consequences flowing from it.

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Chapter 1: The Backstory–Life Resumed

I came home from hospital weighing eighty-seven pounds, recuperated over the summer, and entered high school in the fall to catch up on the classes I had missed the previous year due to hospitalizations. I graduated with honors three years later, squeezing four years of high school into five.

The surgery had been successful to a great degree. I was not cured of MG; there is no known cure for MG to this day. But I was alive and functioning once again, not on the level of someone without MG, but doing amazingly well, for me. I had a new lease on life.

After graduating high school I went away to college. This must have been a big step of faith for my parents who wouldn’t be there to help me if things went wrong, and they sometimes did go wrong. I have had a few life-threatening myasthenic crises, precipitated by a cold or flu, in which I became so weak I couldn’t talk, swallow or breathe. This is not good! These crises usually meant hospitalization and life support, meaning a tube down my nose or throat so I could breathe with a machine’s help.

In spite of these things I continued with life. I loved life! I went to a Bible college in Florida and there met the man who would become my husband. We were married two years later while in college and we started our family. In the next few years I gave birth to two healthy sons and together my husband and I raised them.

Miracles to us, miracles all. That I could marry, bear children and raise a family with my health condition is miraculous to us. There were, indeed, times when I could barely function: hands too weak to pin a diaper, arms too weak to lift my baby, eyes too weak to safely drive because of double vision. Randy, my husband, took over much of the care of our two boys when they were toddlers. He bathed and dressed the boys, cleaned house, cooked and bought us a dishwasher (back in the days when these were not household staples!).  He took the boys out on his day off once a week so I could have a break and rest, and they had great times together doing dad and son stuff.

Fast forward forty-two years from the time of my MG diagnosis at fifteen years of age. I am now sitting in the office of the surgeon who had done my biopsy and just had the wind knocked out of me because he just told me I had breast cancer.  All the lessons I’d learned over the years I now pulled forward as I was hit hard with this unwanted, frightening news of breast cancer; cancer that could kill me.

It is out of these and other life experiences I write. This path is not the way I would have chosen. But since it has been my life, I want to share with you what I have been learning about going through suffering—thriving through it, taking the broken pieces of my life and making something beautiful from them.

But I didn’t do it all by myself. And that’s what I want to share with you.

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Brokenness to Beauty: Chapter 1: The Backstory

“I have the diagnosis. It is breast cancer.” As the doctor said those words it was like a stomach punch unawares, taking my breath away, but at the same time I had the urge to turn and look over my shoulder to see who he was talking to. Certainly it couldn’t be me. My mind reeled, simultaneously rejecting and absorbing what he said. I have cancer.

This was just the most recent onslaught of physical trials for me. I recall another doctor many years before say almost the same words, “I know the diagnosis,” after administering an intravenous solution.  I was just fifteen years old.

At that time the doctor told my parents I had a rare disease called Myasthenia Gravis (My-az-thee-nee-uh). It sapped my energy and strength so that in about a year’s time I went from an energetic teenager to being tired all the time, listless. My speech became nasal, I had great difficulty talking, chewing and swallowing and my eyelids drooped. I had a hard time gripping things with my hands, lifting my arms to comb my hair, and carrying my school books. My arms felt like lead weights.

At night in bed I secretly cried, asking God what was wrong with me. Was I going crazy? I felt like I was being locked into a cage in which my body was trapped. I was unable to move properly, like being in a suit of armor rusted stiff and immovable.

While my parents observed some of the changes in me, such as tiredness and listlessness, not normal for a healthy teen, they were not aware of all the symptoms of weakness I was becoming familiar with.  Mom, who had always been at home before, had taken a job at the hospital to help support the family while dad studied surgery. Neither of them was at home as much as they used to be to observe these changes in me. They were unaware of my struggles with being unable to grip the knobs on my dresser drawers to open them, or the inability to lift my arms and comb or curl my hair, or being afraid to step up on things for fear of falling and hitting my head, which I couldn’t hold up well because of weak neck muscles.  When I started choking on food, however, because the muscles were too weak to chew and swallow well, they became quite alarmed and started taking me to doctors to find out what was wrong.

I hadn’t always been tired and weak. I grew up healthy and happy. The oldest of four children, I had two brothers and a sister (my parents much later adopted another two boys). Ours was a happy home and I was an active, happy, vibrant child.

Living in the country, I remember doing things like tromping through the woods (I say tromping because I must have made enough noise to scare away any snakes for miles around; I never saw one, thankfully). We kids had a rope-and-tire swing hung from a tree on the edge of a bank, and we’d swing Tarzan-like out over the drop-off and back around to our starting point, unless we crashed into the tree the swing was tied to instead of our intended landing point. I loved riding horseback and playing in the creek which ran through the eighty acres of our land. I wasn’t much for dolls, and my mother’s mantra to the four of us kids, “Go outside and play!” contributed to my tomboyishness.

Now, at about age thirteen, after the family moved to the big city so my doctor-dad could study surgery, life took on a different tone. I began to have symptoms of muscle weakness and the inner struggle it brought on because I didn’t know what was happening to me. The not knowing is torture. For two years I lived in this no-man’s land of doubt and increasing weakness.

When I finally got my diagnosis, rather than fear, I felt relief! I wasn’t crazy! There was a reason for what was happening to me; I had a disease with a name! Strange comfort, you think, but oh, very real.

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If you write it …

Brokenness to Beauty: Transforming Your Brokenness into a Beautiful Life

Everyone needs encouragement. We all go through difficulties in life and look to those who can give us a word of wisdom, an understanding ear, a word to carry us through the dark times.  And sometimes we need more than a word. We need someone to come alongside us with compassionate assistance.

Encouragement comes in various forms. I believe there is benefit in sharing what one has learned about walking through the good and bad times, about living a life worth living regardless of what comes our way, passing down truth from one generation to another, one friend to another. I am a follower of Jesus Christ, a Christian, and Christians have an obligation to serve one another in love and pass on to the next generation and others around us the lessons God has taught us.

I found as I blogged my journey through cancer treatment, the readers were encouraged by how I went through it. Since every person will go through some form of suffering, difficulty or tragedy in the course of life, either personally or through someone they are close to (a simple reality, folks), it is important to learn how to go through these times in such a way as to come out the other side not only intact, but better for the journey; in essence, to turn one’s brokenness into beauty.

Since childhood I’ve lived with a chronic disease. I couldn’t ignore physical struggles. What I learned, as I observed life, was that no one—no matter how strong and healthy, no matter how gifted or talented, no matter how well-off financially—no one is immune to sickness, disease, injury, pain; loss of loved ones through disease, death, divorce or war; loss of support structures; mistreatment; loss of job, status, social standing. You name it, you and I can be affected by any or all of these in a heartbeat.

For as many people as there are in the world, there are as many different responses to suffering. I’ve seen some people who tragically fall apart. Some turn their backs on God, “losing their faith.” Some people turn to deceptive and destructive “aids” such as alcohol or drugs. Others even walk away from the pain and agony of suffering family members, leaving a wake of ruined relationships and bloodied, trampled hearts. Many become bitter, blaming anything and anyone, especially God, for their woes, clearly revealing their belief that suffering should never have come their way, as though they should be somehow exempt.

Then there are others who appear to just survive, getting through the hard times, as the old saying goes, “by the skin of their teeth.” They grumble and complain their way through it all, with a dark cloud over their lives, like Eeyore, the pitiable friend of Winnie the Pooh. Not an appealing sight.

Thankfully, we’ve also seen those who seem to go through suffering and trials with poise, with grace in the midst of their struggles. Though they have real fears and battles, they aren’t beaten down but actually thrive as a result of their ordeals, real ordeals, coming out the other side of the dark valley stronger and better for their time of struggle. They encourage onlookers by their spirit in the throes of troubles. How do they do it? The answer has more to do with what is inside us than what comes at us from the outside.

I’ve heard from people who went through terrible ordeals and yet came through them praising God that as a result of that ordeal they have a stronger faith in and a deeper relationship with God, that they are better human beings for the experience. Because I’ve had to deal with Myasthenia Gravis (MG), I’ve learned valuable lessons in how to live. I’ve been learning for most of my life to allow my brokenness to change my character, transforming my weakness into inner strength. It matters not what we are born with or what comes into our lives. It only matters what we do with those things.

As an adult in mid-life I was diagnosed with breast cancer, a whole new world of threat. I worked through it day by day. Cancer presented new challenges and new fears for me to face, and those challenges and fears weren’t easier than others I’d faced previously; they were just different. I came to realize, however, that the way I dealt with these new cancer challenges and fears was the same way I dealt with the old familiar challenges and fears of MG.

Facing the scary reality of cancer in my life, dealing with it day by day, I added the dimension of blogging about my struggles as I went through treatment.  To my surprise, the readers told me my blog postings encouraged them, time after time. It has been these readers, along with other significant people in my life, who have prompted me to write this book. They told me numerous times I should write a book so more people could benefit from what God has been teaching me about going through suffering and thriving through it, about using my brokenness to create a beautiful life.

This blog will present my book, “Brokenness to Beauty: Transforming Your Brokenness into a Beautiful Life”.  Most of the book will be here in my blog postings, but not all of it. I plan to publish the complete book when I finish blogging it.

So come along on this journey with me from blog to book … from Brokenness to Beauty.