Conventional Wisdom - Shmizdom

Painting by Bryan S. Welborn, 1995

Conventional wisdom. I hate those words. Maybe because they assume an equation that will equal a definitive sum. But there really are no guarantees in life.

For example, there is a Christian finance expert who purports that no one should ever buy a new car. Well, if no one ever bought a new car, then they would stop selling new cars and then they would all be used cars. Soon, we would be buying used-used cars and pretty soon be back to horse and buggy when all the cars end up in the junk yard.

Also, that point of view seems to say that only the ungodly can buy the new cars but Christians must drive the used cars. I think there’s something wrong with that, even though I’m not a ‘prosperity gospel’ type of person!

Conventional wisdom says - wait until you can afford kids to have them. If most of us took this advice we wouldn’t have kids until we were ready to retire! Besides, there is no guarantee that they won’t develop some kind of health problem that ends up costing you any chance at having a savings account, which is exactly what happened to us.

If you waited until you were ‘financially able’ to have kids, what happens when you have a heart attack or cancer diagnosis in your 40’s? They don’t take them back, I checked. Just kidding! I always told my kids that even if there was a mixup at the hospital and they tell me that you aren’t mine, it doesn’t matter – YOU are mine and always will be!

Now I’m not saying that anybody anytime should have a kid just because they want to. There does need to be some responsibility on the part of the parents. But it would take a lifetime to plan for every contingency so by the time you’re ready to live…it’s over!

Some sermon title artwork from Calvary. Bryan also edits the weekly television show and creates videos as needed.

Conventional wisdom also says that what you eat or how ‘healthy’ you are determines if you’ll have a heart attack or cancer. But this wisdom never seems to account for people who have never smoked developing lung cancer, or vegetarians who run 3 miles a day having a major heart attack. Or why children, who haven’t a lifetime of unhealthy eating behind them, will develop cancer or have other major medical issues?

Conventional wisdom – If you work hard and pay your dues, you will get what you have struggled so long for. My husband is a great artist and has a talent that should be raking in millions. But the so-called experts who have seen his portfolio only say ‘they see good art all day long.’ You can be a great artist and still just work for a non-profit. Not every great singer becomes a star, not every good drummer becomes a part of a well-known band.

Logo Designs from my husbands website, WelbornWorks.com

But with blessings from God, you can make a living doing what you were created to do. “There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.”

“He hath made every thing beautiful in his time…”

Ecc. 2:24, 3:11

A Little About Me, Part 3

(For Part 1, click here. For Part 2, click here.)

I had made the deposit and first months rent on a place that I had hurriedly picked out to lease after learning my parents were moving back to Ohio. And although it was against their wishes, I spent the next couple of weeks trying to find someone to co-sign for the electricity so it could be turned on before my parents finished packing up and moving out of Southeast Texas. But no one was willing to help me.

The Church Youth Group I worked with Back in the Day

After vehicles breaking down, freezing rides back and forth to work and hurting my leg falling off the back of a pickup truck, I had thought I could rest for a couple days while I figured out my next move. But when I went to make a meal for my brother and I, we found nearly all the food had been packed up and taken to Ohio with my parents.

Stunned, and out of money, I asked my brother what he thought we should do. He said he could shoot a squirrel in the back yard and clean it, if I would cook it. I agreed and we had squirrel along with a little gravy I made with the rest of the flour and oil, along with the one can of greens left in the house.

Maybe my parents hadn’t realized how little food was in the house when they left for Ohio. Or maybe they thought I would get my deposit back and use that to buy food when we ran out. Whatever the reason, I think they were unprepared for how stubborn I could be.

When it came time to go to work again another cold front had come through the area. I called a friend who lived right behind Walmart and begged to stay with her for the night so I wouldn’t have to ride the motorcycle in the freezing weather so early the next morning. She was reluctant, maybe expecting that I might never move out.

But in the face of my pathetic begging and guaranteeing she wouldn’t have to feed me or keep me for more than one night, she relented. I was so relieved, but also, to tell the truth, a little put out that I had to beg so much for help. It really went against my nature.

That night my brother drove me to Beaumont. We had no more food left in the house and hadn’t eaten very much that weekend. I asked him if he would be okay and he said he would be fine, that he would go to a friends house and they would feed him. I was glad for him, but didn’t know what I would do, and actually, at that point I was so tired and depressed that I didn’t really care about eating or what would happen or pretty much anything.

The Youth Group at a camp in Colorado.

After he dropped me off I dejectedly climbed the stairs and trod reluctantly to my friends door, feeling like a beggar, unwanted and uncared for. Just tolerated for old times sake.

I knocked on the door, fully expecting to just go in and go straight to the guest room so I wouldn’t be a bother to her. However, she was the exact opposite of what I was expecting. She was warm and welcoming, talking and showing me around her apartment. I was so surprised that I couldn’t even talk at first, all I could do was nod as she showed me around. Here I had thought she didn’t even want me to come visit but she was acting like we were the old friends I had thought we were.

It was late, but she was fixing a spaghetti supper with homemade sauce for us to share. It smelled wonderful. I tried to act like everything was normal but I was having a hard time keeping back the tears. The thought that I was unwelcome must have all been in my head. I had a great fellowship and supper that night and went on the strength of that the next couple of days.

Not eating at work, I would grab a bite at home of whatever food my brother brought back after visiting with his friends. But by the third day I was so hungry that when I was sitting in the break room at Walmart, I asked one of my coworkers if she was going to eat her bread from her lunch. Surprised, she gave me the bread but then asked questions about what was going on with me and when I had last ate. Not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to tell her everything, I basically replied how I had car trouble and no money for food the last several days and just needed to make it to payday later that week.

Not thinking any more of it I went back to work but before I left for the day, my coworker came to me and pressed some money into my hand. She had talked to a few other employees and they had all contributed to give me cash to get through until payday, and they didn’t want me to pay it back. I was surprised and humbled. What a great group of people I worked with! 

My Blue Belt Rank

God had provided, even without me asking, but what little faith I still had! When my parents returned they steadfastly refused to help me and in two days time we were to be out of the house.

I went to the bathroom, closed the door and sobbed. Tomorrow I would have to get the money back from the landlord and move to Ohio with my family, all because I couldn’t find a co-signer for the electricity! I couldn’t believe something so small could keep me from what I so desperately needed.

In the midst of my crying I asked God for help. What could I do now? I couldn’t handle this, wasn’t there anybody who would help me? Suddenly, this name popped into my head. It was the name of someone who wasn’t even a Christian. I knew to him to be an agnostic, at best. It was the name of my former karate instructor.

I was so surprised I quit crying. ‘I couldn’t ask him, he wasn’t even a Christian’, I thought to myself. ‘Could I?’ But the name came again and immediately I felt this peace. Yes, I could ask him.

So the next day, I asked him and he immediately said yes, he would be happy to help me. Imagine that, someone who wasn’t even a Christian was more willing to help me than anyone in the church or even my parents, who all professed to be Christians, were willing to help me.

I should have realized at the time how God had led me to the one person who would help. But the devil never wastes an opportunity and made sure I dwelt on the fact that it took an agnostic to be willing to help me when all the so-called Christians said it was their duty not to help me. The devil is deceitful and will use any and all means to cause strife among God’s people. It took years for me to resolve this seeming conflict of supposed ‘good’ people not helping but a ‘bad’ person who did help.*

Very quickly, the papers at Gulf States were signed and the electricity was turned on in the little trailer. On the same day that my parents and the rest of the family left for Ohio, I moved out into my first place alone. They warned me that I wouldn’t make it, they told me there would be no one to call if anything happened. But they graciously left me the car to use thinking that it wouldn’t be long before I changed my mind and came running back home.

Little did they know I didn’t think that far ahead. I never once considered that no one would be around if the car broke down or what I would do if someone tried to break into my house. These thoughts never crossed my mind, which is very surprising considering the worry wart I turned out to be later in life.

The car my parents left me to use when they moved to Ohio. They later gave it to me.

At the time all I could think of was how happy I was. I did it, I moved out! I finally could come and go as I please, dress as I please, clean up after only myself and eat whatever I could afford. I had freedom for the first time in my life - and I never looked back.

*2 Corinthians 10:5

A Little About Me, Part 2

(If you missed Part 1, click here.)

My parents barely stopped their packing to glance at me. “You’re not moving out.” Dad said, with a tone of voice that signaled that was the end of it. I had quietly told them that I was not moving back to Ohio with the family. I was staying in Texas, on my own, and I could do that because I was working three jobs now.

I did not want to move so far away and I didn’t want to be jerked around anymore, moving from house to house at their whim. Since we moved to Texas, we had lived in Port Arthur, Port Neches, Beaumont, four different locations in Vidor, Silsbee, then back to Vidor. I couldn’t take it anymore.

One of our Vidor houses

I had spent months planning to move out on my own anyway. If I'd had more time to save money it would have been fine. But my parents had abruptly decided to go back to Ohio and I was in a quandary.

There had also been major changes in the job department for me. I had quit working at the dental office and started working at Walmart.  I also held down two part-time jobs. But even though I had found a tiny travel trailer in an old trailer park that I could afford, the landlord said if I didn’t get the electricity turned on in two weeks he would rent it to someone else.

Desperate to find some way to stay in Texas, I kept talking to my parents, raising my voice in desperation. I still held out hope that they would see the logic of what I was saying.  I wasn’t even asking them for money, all they had to do was sign a paper!

The conversation escalated into an argument. They told me I did not have any need to move out on my own, I could stay at home until I got married. I didn’t see how that was possible since we barely stayed in one place long enough for me to get a boyfriend!

Finally, my Dad walked out of the conversation. Then my Mom said they would leave tomorrow for Ohio to find a place to live. They would come back in two weeks. So I could give two weeks notice for my jobs.

I have my own daughter now so maybe I can understand how they may not have wanted me to be 1200 miles away from any family. Somehow, I knew I couldn't move back to Ohio. It’s strange, but it was like this giant invisible hand was blocking the way north. I now know it was God. (I wasn't as close to Him as I should have been then.) But at the time, I didn’t understand it.

Me being silly outside our house in Beaumont

After the argument, I went to my room, shut the door rather forcefully and cried.  Then I started praying, asking God what I should do. The thought came into my head to ask people at my church for help. Yes, that was it! I started making a list of names of people to call. I would tell them that I didn’t need any money, only a co-signer.

Buoyed by hope, the future suddenly looked bright again. I decided to wait until my parents had left for Ohio the next day before making the calls to the church deacons. No need for them to know what I was planning.

But it was all wishful thinking. None of the deacons would help me. The pastor wouldn’t help either. They all quoted scripture and told me how it would be wrong for them to help me, even just to co-sign. They used verses like Proverbs 11:15, and 22:26.*

Maybe they believed they were right to do so. But I wasn't a stranger.  I had gone to that church for years, even attending after my family moved to Silsbee, driving for miles after working several jobs to attend church there, but no one would help me. I had even been active in the youth ministry for several years! I did find one couple who were willing to help, but they had such bad credit Gulf States wouldn’t accept their signatures.

The two weeks were almost up. Once again, I felt despair come upon me. To make matters worse, the car I was driving broke down and a rare Southeast Texas cold front had arrived. The only transportation was my Dad’s motorcycle. And I had to get to work.

Another house in Vidor. And my long hair.

One of my brothers had stayed behind with me, so he volunteered to take me to work on the bike. I didn’t usually like to ride the motorcycles with my wild driving brothers and it was freezing outside, but I had to get to work early in the morning, so I agreed.

My brother had the philosophy that driving faster meant that we would only be cold for a shorter amount of time. It sounded good, in theory. However, when we arrived to my job I could barely move, I was so cold! I don’t know how he kept control of the motorcycle.

Later that day when he picked me up from work and we were headed home, the motorcycle broke down. And we were nowhere near home. I stayed with the bike while my brother went to make a phone call for help. (No cell phones back then.)

Could life get any worse?! Don’t ever ask that. It can.

When the friend came to help us, we had to load up the very heavy bike onto the back of his pickup…by lifting it. Did I mention at this time I weighed 108 lbs? What an effort it took for the three of us to get that motorbike up there!

I did my best to help and ended up with one foot slipping off the tailgate and my leg falling all the way to the ground, scraping the side of it as I fell. My other leg, however, stayed up on the tailgate causing me to do a stretch I never would have thought possible.

Me being silly with one of my brothers at yet a different house in Vidor.

Thankfully, I had the next couple days off work. My brother was working on the bike, borrowing money from his friends to fix it. The weather was warming up again. Then, getting hungry, I opened the cupboard but didn’t see any food. I opened another one. Empty. What?! I searched the kitchen thoroughly, finding maybe one can of spinach, some flour and oil. My parents had packed up most of the food and taken it with them.

Stay tuned for Part 3.
(Note: I didn't mean to make this so long, but it's turning into at least a three parter! I'll try to wrap it up soon, I promise!)

* Prov. 11:15 "He who is surety for a stranger will suffer, But one who hates being surety is secure." NKJV
Prov. 22:26 "Do not be one of those who shakes hands in a pledge, One of those who is surety for debts" NKJV

A Little About Me

I have always been a very private person. You may doubt that considering how much I share on this blog, but it’s true.  However, through a series of *messages about the prophet Jonah, I feel God wants me to open up more about myself. So today, I am giving you a little glimpse into my life, 27 years ago, about a year before I met my husband.

Me, in the mid to late '80's.

I was 22 years old and still living at home, but longing to be out on my own, making my own decisions and going to the church of my choice. I love my original family, but we never saw eye to eye on church, the bible, clothes to wear, pretty much everything.

At the time I was working full-time for a dentist, but I never had any money. I wasn’t spending it on myself (except for clothes I had to have for work) nor was I paying off a car. In fact, I didn’t have a car, I was using my parents vehicle.

The reason I didn’t have any money was that my Mother required I turn over my paycheck every payday. She said it cost that much to feed me every week. I had never grocery shopped, so I didn’t know how much in groceries I ate up and felt guilty I was such a drain on their finances. So every payday I dutifully signed over my check and got money back to pay for gas to go back and forth to work. (Later, when I finally moved out, boy was I upset at how little it cost to feed one person every week! All those years I felt guilty for nothing!)

One day, a friend of mine, who was a couple of years older, told me she was moving out from her original family because she couldn’t take it anymore – she had to have her independence. That gave me an epiphany – I could move out, too! (Neither of us had boyfriends at the moment so marriage was not on the horizon, nor did it look like it would be for quite some time. Back in those days, that was about the only reason a woman would move out of her parents home. Rarely did they ever live on their own. It wasn’t considered ‘safe’ or something a modest woman would do. At least in my family.)

I started getting excited about having freedom for the first time in my life. I knew that that is what I had to do as well, to save my sanity. But, wait, I didn’t have money saved up like she did. My mom took my entire paycheck every payday. What could I do?

Talking to my Mom or Dad about moving out was out of the question. They made no bones about it that a woman could not live on her own. Also, it was clear that I owed them my paycheck because of how much I cost. There would be no negotiating about me keeping money back for my own future.

After thinking it over, I decided that I would have to start squirreling away money. And the way I decided to do that was to deposit part of my check in a savings account first, then bring the rest home and lie about how much I made that pay period. Yep, that’s right. I lied. I made up some excuse and didn’t feel bad about it at all. I was just nervous about getting caught.

At the next payday, when Mom questioned why I had cash and didn’t have the paycheck, I told her I decided to cash it first then bring it home and gave whatever excuse I had come up with about why I had less money. I remember thinking she’s going to be really mad and demand I bring the paycheck to her first. I held my breath as she pondered what I said, but she just took the money and walked away. Wow, she believed it!

For the next several months I squirreled away as much as I could without her getting suspicious that I was withholding money. (She may have known, looking back on it now. But what could she do? Legally, I was entitled to all my money. If only I had realized that then!)

Me, again!

I was still a long way away from having enough for a deposit, plus the 1^st month’s rent and electricity deposit...when the unthinkable happened. My parents had decided they were moving back to Ohio. And they were taking the whole family with them.

I was devastated. I had been uprooted from everything and everyone I had ever known seven years earlier to come across country to live in Texas. A place where everyone had a funny accent, ate strange food, called soda pop ‘coke’ and thought 'I' talked funny. But Texas had grown on me (it does that, doesn’t it?) It was now more my home than where I had grown up and the thought of moving away from everything I knew and loved, again, filled me with dread.

My family started packing as I frantically pondered what to do. I calculated what I had in savings and decided my next paycheck was all mine – damn the consequences! They were moving away and I was staying here. I needed that money myself, now.

I had enough saved for rent and I didn’t care about food, so that left only electricity. Gulf States (as Entergy was known then) had said if I could get a co-signer then I wouldn’t need a deposit. Maybe my parents might cosign if they saw how determined I was to stay? I was getting older and surely they were tired of taking care of me. It was time to tell them about my plans to move out.

While they were packing, I nervously entered the room. How would they react? Would they be mad when they found out I had money that I didn’t turn over? Would they be glad to finally be rid of me? Might they even be supportive and understanding of my need to stay in Texas?

Stay tuned for Part 2.

*Harvest Ministries - Jonah and the Whale Series

Whiney to Focused, Part 2

I’ve gotten some interesting responses to my previous blog ‘Whiney to Focused’ and it has only been online for six hours! So I thought I should give some additional info about that particular blog.

The ‘still small voice’ I talked about actually happened two months ago. And coincidentally enough, if you’ll look to the right column and notice my postings that are listed by month, you’ll see that is about the last time I posted on this blog.

Yes, God spoke to me and I knew it was from Him. But I didn’t want to write about it as it was intensely personal and very revealing of my own selfish ways. Yes, I know, you are aghast that I have them and frankly, so am I.

Unfortunately, like Jonah who ran the opposite direction when God talked to him, I stayed silent when God talked to me. But as God didn’t leave Jonah alone and find someone else to do the job, He didn’t leave me alone either. So this morning I knew I had to write and tell the WHOLE WORLD how instead of being grateful to still be alive to take another pill, I was whining and complaining about my life and how it is not what I wanted.

I, unlike the majority of Christians, find it very difficult living a Christian life. I actually get angry when someone is rude to me and have to bite my tongue to not reply in kind. And, instead of constantly having the peace of God in every situation I sometimes will get so frustrated that I actually have to take a walk to keep from hitting something or someone.

Yes, you read that right, instead of praying immediately I take a walk. What kind of Christian does that?! Never knew that about me, did you? Some of you don’t know how close you were to getting punched in the nose! Just kidding. Sorta.

I struggle frequently to keep from getting the ‘why me’s.’  And I’ll work on that.  I know I’m not the only one who has ever gotten cancer. And if I die from it I know I will not be the only one that has ever died from cancer. I lost a beloved grandmother to it and have read several stories in the news and on Facebook recently of much younger people, including precious children, who had their whole lives ahead of them, that have died from it.

I’d like to say that I will never complain about my life again because at least I am still here, but as I’ve already confessed, I’m not in that majority of Christians yet. But as I stated earlier, I’m working on it - because God won’t let me go the opposite direction too long. Oh, what a loving Father who won’t let me get that far from Him!

Whiney to Focused

I’m a whiney. Not wine-o, but whiney.
 

Just like a kid, I pout when I don’t get what I want. I whine when I have to go to the doctor, AGAIN. I grumble as I pick up another prescription and fuss when I have to interrupt my schedule to take it on time.

It’s not easy for me to admit. I’d like everyone to think of me as this ‘model’ Christian who handles the problems life throws at her with grace and acceptance. I want people to see such a stalwart faith in Christ that they start to dance and praise the name of Jesus.

But instead, I’m a person who gets jealous when I read Facebook posts and see people traveling, getting massages, meeting up for lunch with their girlfriends, or moving into a new home, while I sit doing a lymphatic massage and swallowing my meds. One day, I just sat and had a pity party.

‘How unfair!’ I bellyached to myself. ‘I’m a good person, I’m still with my first husband, I have been faithful, I stayed the course, yet I’m the one who’s stuck at home taking prescriptions and ordering more for my kids. Where’s my blessings? When am I going to get to do something? Why can’t I have a second car, a new home, a vacation?”

As I sat there grumbling inwardly, suddenly, this still small voice came and said something that made me hush instantly and sit up. The voice said:

“Okay, you can have everything you want and then leave it all here when you go, or you can send it on ahead and have it for all of eternity.”

I’m telling you, I got chills when I heard it. I was excited and scared at the same time. Wow, God just talked to me!

And what a truth it was! Here I was pining for things that were temporary gratifications instead of focusing on what really matters – what will last for eternity. Too often I think life is about what I have or don’t have but it’s really about what I’m focused on. If I’m focused on me, I will never have enough. But if I’m focused on God, it will last an eternity.

“Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

Fresh, Homemade Apple Pie!

I'm a baker - I love to bake. And I haven't been able to for over a year since my cancer treatments and recovery have prevented me from doing so. But the past couple of weeks I have had a surge of energy so in honor of the July 4th holiday I took the time to make apple pie from scratch. I thought I'd share it with you.

 First, enough dough for a two-crust pie. I mixed the flour and salt and just added in the butter. 

This is my first year of using butter instead of shortening. We'll see how it turns out.

 Now adding and mixing 4-5 tablespoons of cold water.

 Rolling out the dough between two sheets of waxed paper with a little bit of flour to help it not stick.

Lifting off the wax paper on one side. I then lay it back down and carefully flip it to the other side
and do the same. This way, when I'm ready to put it in the pie pan, it doesn't stick to the dough 

when I'm trying to lift it off after centering it on the pan. 

 Voila! The finished crust! Looks good, doesn't it? Curiously enough, using the butter (and softening it in the microwave first) doesn't seem to have affected how the dough likes to stick to the wax paper. In fact, it was easier this year than any other time I have made pie dough. We'll just have to wait to see how it tastes and flakes after the pie is finished.

 

The apples and lemons, ready to go.

 Not bad at keeping a long strand of peel going! 

I remember as a child my siblings and I would watch our mother peeling potatoes. 

We were fascinated at how long a peel she would make. But after a few times of us going "Awwww!" 

when the peel would drop before it got very long she'd shoo us out of the kitchen. I can't figure out why. ;)

 All the apples are finally ready to slice!

 Going good!

 Adding the lemon juice.

 Now mixing flour, sugar and cinnamon for the filling. Mixing the flour completely with the 

cinnamon and sugar helps to keep the flour from forming lumps.

 I mix in the flour, cinnamon and sugar with the apple slices until the moisture starts showing on the apples.

 Oops! I forgot to get a shot of putting the top on the apple pie! Oh, well. 

Here I am brushing the top with milk. But before that I put little dollops of butter all 

over the top of the apples.

 

Now sprinkling with sugar.

And here's the finished product! I'll let you know how the butter crust tastes!

Thank you, Lord, for the strength and energy to do something I really love.

Emotions

I’m a cry baby. Forget crying when you’re sad or happy (I cry at both,) I also cry when I’m angry, frustrated, tired, or confused. I cry at sad songs, or even just melancholy ones. I’ll cry at the movie theater, in a restaurant, in a hotel lobby, or just driving to church with a face full of make-up! I’m a crier!

I’ve always admired those women you see in movies or on TV who never let their emotions show. I wish I could be as icy as they are. Sometimes I’ve wished that I didn’t have any emotions so when something upsets me I won’t start crying about it in a public place! Or when someone is rude to me I can just stare right back at them until THEY look away.

Instead, I act like a little girl with my lower lip trembling and turn away so they won’t see the tears come into my eyes. Oh, if I could just find some way to control my emotions!

A few years ago I was helping at our church’s VBS. It’s a huge affair and can get stressful (another trigger for my waterworks!) One of the leaders came to me with a conflict about something that I can’t even remember now, but I do recall tears welling up in my eyes as she talked to me. I could see her surprise at my tears and she said, “I bet you’re one of those people who have all the spices in their cabinets all organized and everything in its place.” Surprised, I replied, “I wish!” and laughed. Then I realized she was trying to figure out my personality and why I was crying – and I thought ‘Good luck with that, I can’t even figure it out!’

But something occurred to me this morning - as little as it takes to make me cry is about the same amount it takes to make me happy. Something as simple as standing outside for a moment and watching the birds hop around, looking for bugs, taking a bath, squabbling with each other, I love it.

Even something as simple as helping someone choose the right coffee maker in a chance meeting at a store can make me happy. That happened yesterday and I’m still smiling about it today. Maybe because this person I helped is someone I have tried for years to be close to at my church, to no avail. It’s the same person who saw me cry at VBS years ago – a person whose respect I feel I’ve never had.

This lady and I attended the same Sunday School class for years, but I was always held at arms length. One time, she even was short tempered with me in front of the other ladies at a class social. I was humiliated. But still, I went to the same class, like a lost little puppy trying to get approval.

It took years, but I finally quit the class and gave up on ever being close to her, or to just about anyone in that class. I felt better. Well, I sorta felt better. Kinda like a ‘when you give up all hope you feel better’ thingy. At least I wasn’t trying so hard anymore!

So it was a surprise yesterday when this lady came up to my husband and I at the store and asked for our opinion on a coffee maker. And even more surprising - I wasn’t nervous around her.  Maybe it was because I had given up on a friendship or approval, or perhaps my battle with cancer this past year has changed me. Whatever it was, I was able to converse articulately with this person and help her make a decision.

I gave my opinion on the coffee makers as I had researched them just a few months before - when I had to stay in Houston for five weeks during my radiation therapy. At the time I had thought that if this might be my last days on earth I might as well splurge for a nice coffee maker!

Anyway, this lady seemed surprised and impressed with how much I knew about the subject. I had always felt I was under-estimated in her opinion. But, like most people, she probably never thought about me at all. I dwell way too much on what I think other people are thinking of me. At almost 50 years of age this really shouldn’t bother me anymore!

But as I reflected this morning on the chance encounter yesterday and how pleasant it was, it made me smile. It was then that I realized how something so small could make me happy. That in turn made me think maybe it isn’t such a bad thing to be crybaby. Especially if all it takes to make me smile again is something as simple as a few minutes spent helping someone choose a coffee maker.

One Year Since Cancer Diagnosis

One year ago today I received my cancer diagnosis. What a horrible ride it’s been.

I know I should be grateful. And I am. I am glad I am here today to…commemorate this anniversary. The lump under my arm grew so big so fast that I am truly grateful I was able to get into MD Anderson as quickly as I did.

But my life has irrevocably changed. After the surgery, I feel maimed. My arm is completely numb underneath as well as the surrounding area, still. It may be that way forever. And it doesn’t work like it used to, and to keep motion in that arm I’m supposed to do special exercises, every day, forever.

But because of the lymphedema it’s looking like I may not be able to do much physical activity. MD Anderson was very vague about what to expect, maybe because every body is different. But apparently I can’t do much yet, if ever, or I will have swelling. After the events of this past week I’m beginning to wonder if I ever will be able to bike ride again, or go horse back riding or even do the mundane, yet necessary, scrubbing of the bathroom tile without having swelling afterward?

Then there’s the daily bout with my thought life. Some days are better than others; I can just shrug off morbid thoughts and go on thanking God for what I’ve got. Then other days are not so good. I think about cancer and my death.  I think about what I haven’t accomplished, what I should have accomplished, what I wish I had done. Can I make up for it now? Do I have time? What is it that I should be doing? Can I commit to anything? And on it goes.

Then there’s the, I don’t know, stupidness? - if that’s a word, of it all. Like scrubbing the bathroom clean and getting new shower curtains cause it’s just been too long and they need replacing, yet while I’m at the store trying to decide what to get and hoping the new pains I’m having are from the lymphedema and not cancer, and that my lower back pains that have come on suddenly are just because I’m getting busy with house work again, and not cancer…that I think, if I’m dying, does any of this matter?

What does it matter how clean the house is or how I’ve never finished decorating the bathrooms or our bedroom - if I’m dying?! Then I almost laugh out loud of the sillyness and pointlessness of making the house look good when you think you may die soon. Then I start wondering what is important, really important, in the day to day activities after a cancer diagnosis?

What is normal after cancer? Is it normal to go back to normal? It doesn’t feel like it should be that way. It feels like I better get out my ‘bucket list’ and get busy, because I may not have much longer! But if I spend time/money on ME, then that is selfish and I shouldn’t be like that. Not only am I a Mom, but I am also a Christian – which is supposed to be the epitome of selflessness. So, do I now throw myself into ‘Christian’ works, especially since my youngest is turning 18 this week?

After cancer is scary, and weird and uncertain. And on top of that major life changes and milestones are happening in my family and it’s leaving me confused about what my role is now. I am praying and have been praying for years that God would show me my purpose, but I’ve never gotten a clear answer. I’m assuming my purpose was to finish raising my kids, as nothing else was clear to me.

But I guess that’s where faith comes in. To walk by faith and not by sight, as the bible says. So, as for fretting whether I have done all I’m supposed to do or wondering what is it I’m supposed to be doing now, maybe I should rest easy on Micah 6:8: “…And what does the Lord require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?”

Graduation Day

My baby is graduating today.

She’s the one who would leap before she looked, climb anything without fear of danger to reach what caught her eye. Talked to strangers like they were her best friend, touched EVERYTHING at the store, loves every animal – even insects – never wanting them killed, just relocated.

As she grew older she became an advocate for anyone that was mistreated or misunderstood. She is very passionate about her beliefs and always wants people to know the truth. She feels it her duty to inform others who may suffer from a lack of knowledge about certain subjects. If you bring up evolution, you’re on your own.

She has a love for writing but suffers from impatience and self-doubt and maybe a bit of procrastination, just like her mother. She has grown more shy as she as gotten older and as a result has a difficult time making new friends - just like her mother. But once she is your friend, she is very loyal and nobody had better say anything against you, ever.

My baby had to stay in the shadow as her big brother was diagnosed with a serious lifelong illness when he was 14 and she was 11. People would inquire as to how he was doing and he got a lot of attention, but she was never noticed or asked about.

Then Cara started having her own medical problems, but her mother ignored them, not wanting both her children to have medical issues. She had to pass out before her condition was taken seriously, and after a year of medical tests she had her own diagnosis to live with.

Then her mother was diagnosed with cancer two days before her 17^th birthday. She had to take over a lot of responsibilities, including her own senior year of high school, as her mother would spend the next nine months in chemo, surgery and radiation therapy.

She has had to go without and deal with more than most kids her age. Money was scarce since there was always a doctor visit, medical procedure, tests or expensive medicines that must be purchased first. But that is the path God put before her and I can see how it has matured her and molded her compassion toward others who are hurting.

So here’s to you, my baby girl, for holding steady when you felt like quitting, for loving other unfortunate souls, for wanting what’s right instead of what’s popular, for being your own person in a crowd of followers, for teaching yourself your senior year and for crying but not giving up.

Cara - I need you more than you need me, which shows God knew what he was doing when he gave you to me. I am the fortunate one.  Now go and do what God has put on your heart. Cry when you need to, then dry your tears and press on, as you have always done. I love you.

Why Do We Need God?

Why Do We Need God? Because we have more than we can handle. It's as simple as that.

When people say God will never give you more than you can handle, they mean well, but they are completely wrong. Where is that in the bible? The only place is where it talks about TEMPTATION - that He will make a way of escape. He didn't say you could handle everything.

Who can handle being addicted to drugs, alcohol, sex, or anything else? Addicts go to support meetings and are given a support buddy and encouragement to find a 'higher' power.

Who can handle the death of a loved one, knowing you will never see them again on earth? Never talk to them again, never have the chance to make things right, if needed?

In fact, I would go so far as to say if you can handle everything life throws at you, you are not living the Christian life God has for you. But then, neither was I.

With my cancer diagnosis, I can never be sure, ever, that it is over. And so I deal with my own mortality on a daily basis. And it is much more than I can handle.

I don't want to die from cancer. I've seen people die from it, it's not pretty. I'm scared. I can't handle it, and there is no place to turn. Doctors can't give me reassurance, my family can't stop me from dying, and all my research on cancer 'prevention' only shows that the medical community can't even make up its mind on what causes cancer, let alone how to prevent it.

Oh, there are all kinds of theories - build up your immune system with antioxidants so cancer can be fought off. Wait a minute, don't take antioxidants because that can feed your cancer, especially if you're susceptible to cancer. (Well, since I've had cancer so I would say I'm susceptible.)

Don't be overweight, that makes you more susceptible to cancer. (Then why don't all fat people get cancer?) Sugar gives you cancer - the cancer feeds off sugar. Oops, wait, go back to real sugar and don't have any fake sugar, that's what gives you cancer.

And on and on it goes. What is a person to do?! The latest I've read is that iodine deficiency can cause you to get cancer, especially breast cancer. However, it's really hard to check for iodine deficiency. But I have been diagnosed with hypothyroid a few years before my cancer diagnosis. Hmmm, maybe there's something to this one? Should I get more iodine in my diet? But I gotta be careful, too much iodine is as bad as too little!

I AM DRIVING MYSELF CRAZY!

I am trying to run everywhere but to the One I need to be running to! There is only one refuge, only one Person who can help me when I feel this panic start to rise up in me.  When this urgent need comes on me to do something to save myself but there is no clear cut path to take, what do I do then?!

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."

 "The name of the Lord is a strong tower;
The righteous run to it and are safe."

"But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength..."

God's word comes to me in these moments of panic. God is showing me that the only place I can remain safe is in Him. I may still die from cancer, but He will see me through it.  

Only by His grace and might and strength and power can I make it. As the bible says: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love..."

The only place for me to run is to His word, and then to live a life of faith. "Simon Peter answered Him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."  -  "The just shall live by faith..."

Are you living a life you can handle? Or is it too much for you?   

When you cannot handle what life has thrown, it's time to go to the Throne. 

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I don't know why but I can't seem to reply to posts on my own blog anymore! So I'll put my replies here:

Thanks, Gayle and Marsha! I appreciate the prayers!

Love,
Christine 

Radiation Effects

It's now been one week and one day since my last radiation treatment. And I feel terrible.

Not only have I dealt with bronchitis for the last 12 days, with coughing and fever, the radiation side effects are now also full blast.

I was told that after radiation my skin would have the appearance of a sunburn, and like a sunburn, it would peel. However, this is nothing like any sunburn I have ever had in my life!

My skin is the deepest red I have ever seen and it is peeling ... and bleeding! Showering is pure torture, as is anytime the bandage must be changed! I have to be careful of a skin infection now.

If they had told me it would be like this I never would have agreed to radiation! I have to wear a patch on the most sensitive parts of my body, but I thank God for it, as it is the only way I get any relief!

I have stopped all my lymphedema exercises as I am waiting for my left underarm area and breast to heal. I am praying that the lymphedema does not make my arm or fingers swell while I wait for my radiated skin to heal.

And I keep coughing...and coughing, and coughing.

Thank God for this bandage!

Duck

I am near the end of my cancer treatment. It has gone by faster than I had thought it would, which is a good thing. I remember being so nervous at the beginning of it - worried about staying still enough while the radiation was going on so it wouldn't affect other parts of my body. But today, I realized how all that had passed without me noticing and now I was laying there relaxed, not tensed up as before. God is good.

We're staying at a place that has a lake with a walking path around it. Yesterday, I had noticed what I thought was a stick in the water that was curiously only staying in a certain area, instead of being blown about by the wind. But I got distracted and didn't give it any more thought.

Today, while walking the path with my husband, I saw the stick again and pointed it out to him. Right away, he thought it was odd and started walking toward it. Then he said it wasn't a stick, it was a duck! Sure enough, a poor duck had gotten tangled in some fishing line and couldn't get free. And he had been there since the night before!

We told the manager of the park, who got a fishing buddy of his to come out and try to hook the line that had tangled the bird. At first, we didn't think it was going to work, but finally it did! The first video below shows the bird stuck in the water. It's the black blob in the center of the screen. The second video shows him getting free.

When the duck was hauled in, the fisherman (duckman?) found that the line was all tangled around the birds neck, pretty tight in fact. But all he had on him were pliers. So he walked off, cradling the duck, to get a knife. We left at that point, and walked back to our trailer.

It was a pretty good feeling, to have a part in saving the bird, who was probably close to exhaustion. I hope he didn't have any injuries to prevent him from flying away. I equally hope that the fisherman didn't decide to have duck for dinner.

Snail's Pace

If any of you think I've got it together handling my cancer diagnosis, you should have seen me last night. I lost it...in a big way.

Maybe it was the stress of being away from my home, maybe the nervousness I felt starting my radiation treatment and having to stay completely still while on the table wearing special glasses and having to hold my breath several times a minute to keep the yellow line in the blue box so that I will be perfectly positioned for the radiation to keep it from reaching my heart or lungs.

Or maybe it was finding out this week that I have lymphedema, a lifelong condition I will now have to deal with so soon after my surgery. Or, the fact that I will need physical therapy three times a week for the next four weeks while I'm also having my radiation. Whatever it was - one of these or a combination of them, or the accumulation of the last six months of chemo, surgery, a drain, traveling and planning for now and the future - it all seemed to be too much last night.

One of the kids said something that just set me off. I started crying, practically screaming, of how tired I was of having cancer! How unfair it is to have two kids who are battling their own diseases and for me to have cancer as well. How I just can't take any more and it's all probably all for nothing anyway as I will most likely die from cancer! I even threw in a few swear words for good measure.

Hmmph, so much for a Christian testimony. So much for having faith and seeing how God is getting me through this, how I've grown closer to Him and have felt His love for me throughout this. How can I even be saved and throw a fit like I just did?! Any Christianity I seemed to have was wiped out in that moment.

Even though I immediately apologized to my kids and husband, I have felt horrible since then. Like there is no redemption. Not only did I have a lapse of faith, I even said some pretty bad words. What kind of child of God does that? Certainly not the kind who hopes to have any kind of Christian testimony.

I have barely even talked to God today, I think it's because I know I need forgiveness but I also know I don't deserve it. But I can still feel Him talking to me anyway. Like when I recalled how David, the apple of God's eye, committed murder. I feel like I have murdered my testimony with my kids.

But David repented and came back to God, and God accepted him. I have already repented and asked God to forgive me, now I just have to believe that He has, and I have to forgive myself. My daughter has told me that I tend to hold grudges. It hurt to hear it, but I think she's right. However, the person I always find the hardest to forgive...is myself.

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me." Ps. 51:10

Houston Bound

My hair is growing back!

I saw the radiology specialist this past Wednesday, and after consulting with her colleagues she decided I only needed five weeks of radiation instead of six! Yea! That will save me a week's rent, plus I'll be done with radiation one day before my birthday! God is good!

The radiation treatments start next Wednesday, January 23rd. I will be going every day, Monday through Friday, for treatment with weekends off. We will actually leave next Tuesday to set up house at the place we rented for our stay in Houston while the treatment is taking place.

I will miss my husband terribly the next few weeks. I will be coming home next weekend but depending on how my energy level is will determine if I keep coming home on weekends. My daughter and mother-in-law will be with me next week to help me set up house and see what its going to be like over there.

My son may go with me the following week and we'll decide later who will stay with me and when, but the last two weeks my hubby will take off work and be with me full time as my energy level is expected to be pretty low by then.

Years ago Bryan and I had spent a few nights apart and we unrealistically decided that we never would spend another night apart ever again! But life happens and sometimes it just can't be helped. I will miss him terribly, though. In fact, I already do. Love you, Bryan!

Radiation

Just a quick update! Tomorrow, Jan. 16, I will meet with the radiology doctor who will determine if I've recovered enough motion in my arm after my surgery last month to start my radiation therapy next week.

In the meantime, I have rented a place to stay in Houston while I am going through treatment. I will have to have radiation every day, Mon.- Fri. with weekends off for six weeks.

Since my husband can't take off six weeks off from work, and we only have one car, staying in Houston seemed to be my only option. Thankfully, friends have raised money for my cancer treatment, otherwise, I don't know how we would have been able to do this! Thank God for good friends and family!

Happy New Year!

I hope you all had a blessed holiday season. Mine was great - even with the surgery, even with the chemo! I am still alive in a brand new year!

Life has taken on a new urgency lately. Maybe because in the back of my mind a little voice keeps telling me that my cancer could return at any moment. I may not have much longer, I may not even make it to the five year mark when I will be declared cancer free by the medical community.

Should I shut that voice up? It depends upon the moment. Right now that little voice is inspiring me to live life to the fullest the best way I can in this moment, where I am at. Which is all I can do.

I can't go where I want - a trip to where I grew up, maybe to somewhere I've never been; the Grand Canyon or even Disney World. But I can embrace being able to cook supper from scratch again. Or having the energy to clean up my house. I can love the fact that both my kids are still under my roof, loving each other, staying close to God and us. And nobody is in the hospital right now!

I am finding joy in folding clothes. What?!  Maybe it will become a chore again in the future, but for now it is a blessing. Who would have thought? A year ago I was trying to make a different me, tired of the way things had always been. Who would have thought that a year later I would be relishing doing the mundane things I was so tired of this time last year? God does have a sense of humor!

There are times that little voice reminding me I may not have much longer to live can get me down. That's when I turn to God's promises; He will never leave me nor forsake me, even in my death. He has a plan and a purpose for me, I am always on his mind and He upholds me with His righteous right hand!*

None of us are promised tomorrow, but those who believe are promised John 11:25:

 “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live.

*Heb. 13:5, Eph. 2:10, Palms 139:17-18a, Is. 41:10