They Are Yours

After my alarm woke me up, I picked up my phone, a bad habit I use to spend extra moments in bed. That's how I discovered a young mom suddenly died. Her name was Wynter Pitts, a  mom of four girls. One of those girls was the daughter in the movie, War Room.

She was cousin to Priscilla Shirer, one of my favorite bible study teachers. I heard her on podcasts. She loved God and her family and wrote for young girls.

It was utterly unexpected. One moment she is doing normal mom things, and the next she is in the presence of Jesus.

I don't know the details of what happened, but what I understand is she passed away in her sleep. Sudden loss. Profound pain.

I searched her Instagram account for any other information. All over, she has hashtags, #sayyestoGod.

Say yes to God even if we don't understand. Say yes to God even in the biggest hurt and confusion. Say yes to God because we know He is a big God.

Her other hashtag she used often was  #sheisyours. Her ministry was to point young girls to God. She had four beautiful girls and she gave them back to God. Her death was unexpected and swift, but if she had warning, she would have given her fears of leaving her girls behind at God's feet. They are His, first and foremost.

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, my concern for my kids was my deepest fear. I knew where I was going if I died, but who would be their mom?

I never will understand God taking away a mom from her kids. Sometimes, with our hardest questions, we won't know the why, but we can look for the who God says He is in the midst. He is Father. Comforter. Provider. Immanuel God, God with us in the middle of the pain.

Today. We aren't guaranteed tomorrow. I spent today with Ben. We went to Bellevue to watch a couple of friends  perform in a play. We stopped during the long commute home in rush hour for pizza. I love building in this memory.  He'll be a junior next year. That means in a minute he'll be a senior. And then, well you all know how fast these high school days go.

I've already dropped off Becca for her second year in college. Walt had to stay back to help Nathan with orientation at the UW. Even though it was just the two of us, it was so much easier than last year. Three bags from home, a trip to the storage unit, a parking spot right in front of her dorm because hardly anyone else was moving in at the time. She had leadership meetings during the day, so we shopped at night. I got to hang out with my cousin who offered her home for me to stay, visited my dad, and spent time in one of the coolest libraries around, located in Old Town Scottsdale.

The goodbye was easier, too. She is where she is supposed to be. Becca's absence here feels normal. Of course we miss her, but we are excited to see what God has in store for her this year.

Nathan has about a month left before we move him to the UW. Last night I talked him into taking a walk with me. No expectations to clean anything or follow up on something or finish his thank you cards. We just walked and chatted. The sun, because of the smoke from the wildfires in Canada, was a unique shade of red as it lowered itself for the evening, and the cool breezes blew away the heat of the day. It was the perfect ending to a summer day, as I count down our time with him at home.

These are the things that are important. Today with my people. Feeding into my kids when I have a chance. Breathing in deeply, trusting God with my expectations.

#theyareyours

#bigGod

Waiting on Results Again This Spring

Spring brings back all the emotions of six years ago when I first found out that I had cancer.  When I was in the midst of that whirlwind, I sought out info in other people's blogs. I'd search for breast cancer primarily, and usually only found those with Stage 4. Back then, I still didn't understand the figures thrown at me, all about five year survivor rates. Since so many cancer bloggers had their cancer spread, did that mean I could be experiencing that within five years or perhaps in year six or beyond? Many sleepless nights added to the confusion.

After a few more doctor's appointments and reading through the information the clinic gave me, I understood what the five year marker means. Once a patient hits the five-year mark, less follow up statistics occur since the incidents of recurrence decreases drastically.

And, the main reason reason most of the blogs I found were Stage 4 was once a patient finishes treatment, there isn't a lot of cancer-related posts to write. That's kind of where I am right now. Do I continue this blog or start a new one? Do I have anything to share from this perspective or should I start a new theme? I'm still figuring that out.

Since my blog is about my race with God, which includes breast cancer but not necessarily limited to it, for now I'll stay here and post periodically.

So, today, let me share what I've been up to, living life after surgery, chemo, radiation, tamoxifen, and aromasin.

The first thing I recognize is it's harder to notice lack of pain. Pain draws my attention and reminds me it's there. Lack of pain is easy to ignore, and therefore, I forget to be grateful for how much I've improved since finishing my prescription. I just finished my walk this morning. My hip is still a bit tight, but my feet, ankles and knees feel strong. I no longer have that pain that shoots through my toes when I walk, the stiffness that prevents me from taking a full stride, the achiness that follows a hard walk. I can bend down and stand up without pushing myself up with my hand; my knees feel stronger and almost painfree. I am still slightly stiff in the morning, but it's barely noticeable and passes quickly. Every day, things feel getting better the more I stretch and exercise.

Today I'm waiting to hear the results of (hopefully) my last MRI ordered by my oncologist. If you recall when I saw her last, she passed me onto my primary doc for follow-up care since I finished taking Aromasin, but she scheduled one last MRI. She explained that it is rare for a recurrence after all the treatment I underwent and the years that passed, but in the cases when cancer did come back, it was in women with similar diagnoses to me. My cancer was a highly aggressive, 3 cm tumor, estrogen positive with extensive DCIS (cancer that was still in the ducts) surrounding it.

Yesterday as I was ushered back to the MRI room, I couldn't help but be reminded of the walk six years ago in late April. My mind was still reeling after hearing I had cancer. I went from being healthy with annual visits to the doctor to overnight a calendar full of appointments. Everything then was new and overwhelming.

While it wasn't my favorite place to spend my Wednesday morning, I wasn't anxious. It wasn't quite business as normal, though, but I welcome the opportunity to spend time in focused prayer and worship. I'm thankful that my calendar has only occasion appointments this spring, but when I'm faced with a scary scan, I know God  will go before me and fill me with his peace.

Plus, now I have come to learn that it's not the scan that is the hardest part, but the waiting. As I type this, the phone could ring any moment with news of relief or concern. My calendar could remain busy with work, graduation, busy kids who still occasionally need me, or it could become overflowing with additional medical appointments.

As I wait, though, I lean into God and ask for a clear result, but no matter what, that I would represent a good God through it all.

When I finished radiation in 2012, someone had donated little evergreen trees for the patients.

My little evergreen tree in 2012

..
The other day, I took a picture of the tree I've transplanted into a container by the side of our garage.

My evergreen tree thriving in 2018

I look at the tree which reminds me of how far I've come since 2012, especially as I've learned to trust God in all things. I may still feel my heart pound, my palms sweat and worry as I pick up the phone from the hospital when it rings, but it doesn't take away from my trust in God. I just know that the news could be life altering or filled with relief. Yet through it all, the one thing that will never change is God's grace.

It's all part of the life of someone who is walking through cancer. And now, I'm off to grab a bite to eat before I head off for my job at the library, simply a great ordinary day.

**UPDATE: The MRI was entirely clear. Now I'm an ordinary person, going in for my annual mammogram and annual checkup with my primary care.  Praising Jesus for this sweet blessing.

The Last One and Three for the New Year

One final tiny pill, and my evening ritual has ended. Five years. Sixty months. One pill per day for approximately 1800 pills. And it's over. It's been about a week since my final pill, and I'm noticing a few subtle changes for the better. I've noticed a quicker motion, where I previously experienced a tightness no amount of stretching could relieve in my right hip and hip flexors.  My feet do not ache during my walks, either.

I still wake up with achy, stiff ankles and feet. My knees continue to hurt when I crouch to view the books on the lowest shelf at the library. Yet, I'm hopeful it'll all be easier soon.

I'm eager to discover how my body responds as I travel this new road of recovery. As I examine my level of stiffness and pain each day, I recognize a lightness. Part of it is the loosening of joints, but the other part is recognizing one more step away from the cancer diagnosis, one less treatment that offers cancer prevention but with negative side effects. It's a great way to start the new year!

Have you made any resolutions for 2018? I've decided to focus on one or two practical things and one that God leads me in to work on each month. This month I am not eating refined sugars after overloading on sweets over Christmas. I wanted to cut the habit of needing something sweet every night. The other day I ate an orange and was surprised by its incredible sweetness. My taste buds recognize natural sugar now.  I'll decide in February how I'll introduce occasional sweets or if I hold out another month. The longer I am away from the refined sugar, the less I crave it. To me, I find it easier to just say, "I can't eat that now," then to moderate how much I eat.

My choices are simple when I visit a coffee shop. Cappuccino for a treat? The foamy milk tastes sweet and creamy. Or a bit of steamed half and half in my coffee? Or just savor it black. Drinking coffee without sugar is still quite enjoyable.

I still have cravings after dinner. I try to drink water, eat a bit of leftover protein as I do the dishes (when I used to sneak spoonfuls of ice cream), peel an orange or slice an apple. I have also sipped Egyptian Licorice tea, which has a naturally sweet taste. When all else fails, I replace my sweet craving with a handful of tortilla chips and try to keep busy. Too often, the handful multiplies, and while I avoided sugar, I still filled up on things I didn't need.  In February, I think I may focus on putting a time limit for eating at night. The kitchen's closed after 8:30 sort of thing.

My second focus this month was to clean out Christmas decorations I no longer loved, and donate a box full of dishes I haven't used or needed. I was able to get rid of a box of decorations (while still saving the kids' handmade ornaments.) Each month, I want to take one area of the house and sort through, throw away and donate items. I think this is doable to keep it small and manageable. The key for me is to bag up donations and drop then off as soon as possible.

My last focus of the month, the one God led me to, is to pause and notice. I was driving to work one morning, and as I descended from the top of the hill where the high school sits, I looked up to see the most vibrant sunrise painted across the sky with the snow-covered mountains framing the wash of colors. I wish I could have pulled over and admired God's handiwork, but I was heading into an early-morning shift at the library. The crazy thing was how long I had been driving in the midst of this masterpiece, thinking about my to-do list, before I noticed this incredible art in the sky. Wait. Wow! I can't believe I get to see this amazing site this morning! It was one of the most beautiful sunrises I have ever experienced. All it took was a moment to notice. (By the way, the picture above isn't from that morning, and my old iphone would have never done justice to the view.)

I'm trying to keep my eyes open more often. Notice the man in the grocery store, unable to reach the carton on the bottom of the shelf from his motorized chair, and offer to help. Notice the weariness in the eyes of the customer in the library and offer her a smile. Choose to hang out with my kids over putting away laundry and discover something new that's going on with them. It takes a long time, but eventually my teenage boys will talk.

I was reading Psalm 8, and paused at this verse: "When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place..."

When I look. When I notice. When I pause to see God in the moment by moment. That is my plan as I enter into this new year.

I would love to hear your ideas as I try out something new each month.