The better I adjust to having cancer, the more peace I have and the closer to Jesus I feel. He's here - almost tangible - in my living room, in my bedroom, in my car, wherever I am - He's there.
Some of the blessings:
- I get to eat lots of low-sugar added fruitcicles in lieu of water that tastes to me like a mouthful of liquid coins.
- I've lost 24 pounds in about 6 weeks and gained 4 inches around the waist so I don't have to buy slenderer clothes.
- I can drive an electric cart when I go shopping. It's fun.
- The funny ways my pain pills make me feel and cause me to walk like I just got off a boat on a stormy sea. I find it fun; but a bit embarrassing when I walk into cars or buildings.
- Since I can't eat much, I get 5 or 6 tiny meals. I tend to find a food that works and stick with that and fruitcicles for the alternative meal. The recent top meals are bean burritos with ranch dressing or meat-free perogies.
Some of the disadvantages:
- Insomnia. Yet, I seem to survive on 90 minutes, a gap and then 3 hours of sleep a night.
- Pain. Some days it's minimal and other days I may yelp when I move. But still more good days then bad.
- The probable bed sore on my back that oozes yellow stuff.
I am blessed my sister goes to medical meetings with me and takes notes and that she truly loves and cares for me - even her self-sacrificial love without complaining inspires me. Yet I often feel guilty as she is busy care giving her husband, their business and their home. It is so hard to see my sister so pained by my future demise. I rediscovered this stanza from Psalms 90:10: "Our lifetime is seventy years or, if we are strong, eighty years." I am often amazed that I have lived this long with 47 years of liver disease; I count that as a testimony to God's goodness and my obedience. I am content.
Today sister and I met with the hospice assessment nurse. We learned what they can do for me and what hospice means. Mixed feelings. I was disappointed they help me to self-care when I can no longer do that - like help me shower, change dressings, etc. They will help get the hospital bed and other equipment to help me better maintain my independence. They do not help with cleaning or shopping; so I will need to hire that done eventually. I would also have to give up my family doctor for a hospice approved MD. They do not have an end-of-life facility; but I would need to go onto Medicaid and into a rest home during the end-of-life time. That means a lot to think about while I still have the facilities to think for myself... since I feel hepatic encephalophy increasing some days.
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I was periodically thinking about Reverend Patsy the last few days. One of the greatest Christian skills she taught me during my 8 years under her ministry is controlling my mind. I remember when she walked up to a parishioner during ministry time and said "You have the most beautiful butterflies flying around your head. One will land on your head for a moment, then another. It's beautiful." Then she prayed in tongues and gave the interpretation that the butterflies were thoughts. This person would not try to keep the godly thoughts, but just allowed any thought to bombard him/her. She said this was causing doubt, confusion and harming his/her Christian walk. I knew I was similar. I didn't know how to encourage my good thoughts and shoo away the negative thoughts. But I became aware of how much of my thought life was spend on topics I didn't like and weren't helpful. My brain - and I wasn't in control of it. Yucky place to be.
When I was saved in 1975, two of the first scriptures I underlined in my Bible were these:
Philippians 4:8 - "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things."
and
Ephesians 5:19 - "Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.."
It gave me the desire to do that; but left me powerless to activate that scripture. It seems when I can't automatically do the first scripture, then go to the second scripture until I overcome negative thoughts.
It became easier to do both of the above "thinking" scriptures after God placed me under Reverend G's ministry where he taught Christian Lectio Divina and we practiced twice a week as a group. He would read a passage of scripture and like a buffet, each attendee was to pick out a short phrase or even one word that had spoken to our heart. He would remind us to sit with our hands in our lap, our feet flat on the floor, be aware of our slowing breathing. Then he'd read the passage again and we'd "practice" lectio divina. It is a practice because it does not come naturally to shoo those butterflies and allow the butterfly of the chosen scripture to be the only and repetitive thought. We were not to analyze the scripture, memorize the scripture, but to let the phrase sit gently in our mind as we repeated the word or phrase over and over during our 10 minutes of contemplation. I've done Lectio Divina so frequently with Psalm 27: 1-6 that it's butterfly is at the ready and when negative thoughts come, my knee-jerk reaction is "You Lord are the Light who keeps me safe." Hallelujah. At times, God graces me with the gift of silence from Psalms 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God" - where I sit silently inside and silently outside while gazing at my loving Father God, who gazes at me.
I found a beautiful article about God's gaze at https://www.ignatianspirituality.com/god-looks-at-me/
God Looks at Me
While reading Pope Francis’ book, The Church of Mercy, I stopped in my tracks. He asks, “Do you let yourself be looked at by the Lord?” I wondered if I take time to be aware of God’s gaze upon me. Pope Francis continues, “God looks at us, and this is itself a way of praying.”
The Pope’s words led me to the following contemplation.
I picture myself before God, like a child self-dressed for school standing before a loving parent. “Just let me look at you,” the parent says.
I stand a little taller, enjoying that smiling gaze, knowing I am the center of attention. True, my outfit is mismatched, and there’s mud on my knee and a tear in my sleeve. But God overlooks all these things, seeing only with joy the beloved child who eagerly looks back into a loving face. “Turn around.”
I pirouette, allowing myself to be studied, and God smiles. I stand looking into that face, and Divine Mercy looks lovingly at me.
I have a drawing in my hand, and I offer it for God’s approval. I’ve made a picture of my life’s plan, with all its decisions and expectations. I’ve scribbled in where I will do this or that. I picture it like a hopeful kindergartener’s rudimentary artistic effort. God accepts it, looks at it, and laughs. “It’s beautiful.”
Again, I find God gazing upon me. And I return the gaze.
Suddenly worry sneaks in. I wonder if I am going to get my picture back. What if God shreds it?! I gaze at God, not saying a word, but the anxiety shows on my face, I am sure. I sense the Almighty saying, “Trust me.”
I relax a little, but I can tell I have not surrendered that drawing. Will God hang it on the heavenly refrigerator? Will God show it proudly to every visitor to the house? “Isn’t this precious?” I can imagine God saying, pointing to my picture.
I return to the image of God and me looking at one another. God stares at me a little longer with love. I find myself letting out a deep breath. I didn’t realize that I was holding on to it. I exhale loudly.
“Trust me,” God says, handing back my drawing. The Holy Spirit wrote something on it. What does it say?
I stay still, allowing my Creator, my Redeemer and Sanctifier to hold me in a long, loving look. And suddenly, I am ready to go to sleep, and this is OK with God. While I sleep, God will continue to look at me, like a parent smiling into the restful face of a babe who gently snores with complete surrender.
Still, God looks at me.
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