My Extraterrestrial Faith

On our drive to Willie's 3rd birthday party this past weekend, something mysterious happened.  We had just pulled off the highway into a small Wisconsin town.  It was dusk, and the moon was full.  I happened to glance up into the sky ahead and saw two bright white lights.  They looked like stars, but were low enough to be airplanes.  They weren't moving.  Brad must have noticed them too because he was pointing at the windshield with two fingers, as if giving the peace sign.  I followed his gaze back into the sky just as one of the lights disappeared.  Seconds later, the other one vanished too.  Just like that they were gone, leaving a black, empty sky.  Hmm, I thought, that was odd.  I looked over at Brad.  His eyes were as big as the moon!  "We just saw UFO's!" he exclaimed.  "No way...it must be a cloud passing in front of those lights," I replied.  "There are no clouds!" Brad replied.  "What was that?!  What were those?!"

I started laughing.  To be honest, I was excited too!  It was weird.  It was suspicious, odd, extraordinary if you will.  We've definitely heard plenty of ghost & UFO stories while living in Wisconsin, it comes with the territory I guess.  But now, it seems we may have our own mysterious siting to share!  We started with a little bit of faith, we got a little glimpse of light, and now we were giddy believers..sharing our story with everyone!

A few days later, after all the birthday shenanigans, I started thinking again about the lights in the sky.  I wondered if anyone had believed our story.  I stared up into the night sky, wanting to see something special again.  However, all I saw were the stars.  Hundreds and millions of stars.  Of course...the stars!  Right there above me, above all of us...in their beauty, mystery, and vastness was God.  Those stars ARE the something special.  They are little reminders of something bigger, something mysterious, something special and amazing!  As excited as I was to share our UFO story, I should be even more excited to share my Christian story.  I should be shouting, "It's real!  It's the truth!  I saw for myself and I know without a doubt!  He lives!  God is REAL!"

But, I don't always do that.  At least, I didn't.  I didn't always shout from the rooftops about His love in my heart.  I got scared.  I got intimidated.  I was afraid of what others might think.  They might laugh at me.  I might lose friends.  I was unsure of myself.  Plus, it wasn't my job anyway.  Sure, I was a Christian, but wasn't it up to the pastors & priests & those crazy church people to do the screaming?  I thought I could go on with my life as a subtle Christian.  

Not anymore.

I have seen the light.  I know it to be true and real and I want to share it with you!  The light of God's love shines on us every single day.  Every single second.  It shines so bright, and so good.  It's everlasting...for eternity!  Just as the sun rises, regardless of our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors...so does God's love beam down from the heavens upon each one of us.  Individually.  Personally.  For you my friend, unto you my neighbor, into your heart my brother.

No longer can I hide in the shadows.  I've stepped into the sunshine and it feels so wonderful....especially now, especially on my bald head.  So, I will share my faith with you, regardless of what you may think or feel or say.  I'm not scared.  God wants me to, and He's got my back.  I know this by the twinkling in the sky.

"In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."  Matthew 5:16

Extraterrestrial: coming from or existing outside the planet earth
Faith: strong belief or trust in someone or something
(www.merriam-webster.com)

This guy's been on my mind.

Wednesday the 14th was the big day.  I mean, really, probably THE biggest day of my life so far.  I woke up and I felt good.  I wasn't nervous.  I was actually a little nervous that I WASN'T feeling nervous...if that makes any sense!  I read my daily devotional, which said:

"I am yours for all eternity.  I am the Alpha and the Omega: the One who is and was and is to come.  The world you inhabit is a place of constant changes - more than your mind can absorb without going into shock.  Even the body you inhabit is changing relentlessly in spite of modern science's attempts to prolong youth and life indefinitely.  I, however, am the same yesterday and today and forever.

Because I never change, your relationship with Me provides a rock-solid foundation for your life.  I will never leave your side.  When you move on from this life to the next, My Presence beside you will shine brighter with each step.  You have nothing to fear because I am with you for all time and throughout eternity."

Revelation 1:8; Hebrews 13:8; Psalm 102:25-27; Psalm 48:14

This spoke directly to me.  It's amazing when that happens, and it always seems to happen when I really need it to.  Wednesday was definitely one of those days, as Brad and I were about to meet with my oncologist to get the results of my PET scan.

I had the scan on Monday to check on how well the chemotherapy was working.  When we originally had our meeting with the oncologist to discuss the chemo plans, I remember him saying we would do a scan after 3 rounds.  He said the scan would show 1 of 3 things...

1 - the cancer would be completely gone (not very likely, he said)
2 - the cancer would be shrinking, the chemo working and I would do 3 more rounds (this is what they expected)
3 - the cancer wouldn't be responding, at which point we would discuss what's next

I had been asked by many of my prayer warriors what they could specifically pray for.  I told them option number 1!

But, as the hour drew nearer, I braced myself for anything.  On the car ride in to Madison, I kept thinking about the last part of the devotional...God is with me.  "You have nothing to fear because I am with you for all time and throughout eternity."  I was praying, I really need you Jesus, right here, right now.  The closer we got to the hospital, the more anxious Brad and I were getting, and the more we needed to feel God's presence with us.  He's the only one who can get us through these situations that are FAR bigger than we are.

It's then that I pictured Him.  HIM!  My own personal Jesus.  He was right there in the car with us, sitting between us on the middle counsel.  Not a smaller version, just a hunched over version, with one foot on each of our seats.  He was wearing Birkenstock leather sandals, a soft tshirt, worn out jeans.  His hair was medium brown and long, in a pony tail, but not perfectly combed.  I told Brad that He was sitting there in between us.  We laughed because we decided maybe He was wearing Sperry's instead of Birkenstocks (isn't that what's popular now?!)  So, for the rest of the ride, I kept visualizing my Jesus, sitting there with us, looking so calm and peaceful.  It was all going to be ok, no matter what.

We arrived at the hospital and checked in.  Again, the anxiety kept creeping up.  Once we were sitting in the exam room, it got worse.  Our minds were everywhere, from option 1 to option 3 to everything in between.  Every time I saw footprints walk past our door, my heart stopped.  We were holding hands, Brad's were sweating.  My mouth was dry.  Once again, I needed Jesus.  I asked Brad, "Ok, so if Jesus is in here with us now, where is he?  Over there, in the exam chair?"  Brad said, "No, He's over there, by the door."  I said, "You're right!"  That's exactly where I had felt Him standing too.  Off to the side, but between us and the hallway door.  His hands were on His hips, like He was ready to intercept whatever entered.  He was still peaceful, so calm, almost grinning.  He gave me strength.  He gave us hope.

After 45 minutes, my oncologist entered.  He had a smile on his face.  I think he's genuinely a nice guy, and I completely trust him.  However, this smile wasn't totally comforting, as he has entered the room with warm hello's before, and told us very bad news.  He immediately started asking us if we've heard of the Globe-athon walk.  He told us that gynecological cancers are the number 1 killer of women around the world!  Not in the USA, but in the world it's #1.  (For more info on the walk, see link at bottom)

Anyway, Brad and I were holding our breaths while the doctor talked about the walk.  In my head I was screaming, "just tell us what my scan said!  I just need to know!".  He finally looked at us, and said, "Well, I have some great news for you.  Your scan showed no sign of cancer.  There is a spot that is a little hazy, but we think it is scaring from your surgery."  I couldn't believe it!  I mean, I could, because this is what we've been praying for, but I still couldn't!  I do believe in miracles, and I think this is one of a few that have happened to me lately!  I looked at Brad and we squeezed hands and smiled and laughed!  The dr said I'm basically in remission.  He told us that they want to do 3 more rounds of chemo just to be safe, and then another PET scan, and then I will start with regular 3 month check-ups again.  He said at some point, the cancer will come back, as it's considered incurable now.  I asked him what happens then.  He said more chemo, until the cancer becomes resistant, and then we would have bigger things to worry about.  But, let's not talk about that now!

I'm in remission!  I'm cancer free!  Right now!  Today!

I'm truly living for every day, as best as I can.  Nobody knows what their tomorrow will bring.  That's something I've always heard, but never really understood until now.  Live in the present.  Be with who you love.  BE who you love.  Help those less fortunate.  Share what you need to share.

We left the hospital.  I called my mom laughing, I called my dad almost crying.  Brad was texting.  My phone was buzzing.  We stood in the parking ramp letting everyone know the good news, I thought our phones might blow up.  So, again, thank you, thank you for your prayers!  Thank you for your support and your love!  It's working!  :)  Please, continue to pray for my health.  Pray that my remission lasts a long, long time.  Maybe I will prove those doctors wrong, and I will be cured, maybe the cancer will never come back.

And, thank you Jesus, for being with us so presently on Wednesday the 14th.  We couldn't have gotten through that day, or any other, without you.  You're always on my mind.

ABOUT GLOBE-ATHON

From the United States to Ghana, from Austria to Antarctica, from Peru to South Korea, people from all over the world are joining in the first ever international relay for GYN Cancers. On the weekend of September 29, 2013, participants in over 80 countries will make history by walking in solidarity with each other and with millions of women and families affected by gynecologic cancers. These cancers rob women of choices, of their identity as women, and rip families and relationships apart.

Global cancer statistics indicate that gynecologic cancers accounted for 19% of the 5.1 million estimated new cancer cases, 2.9 million cancer deaths and 13 million 5-year prevalent cancer cases among women in the world.  Each year, over 230,000 women are diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer worldwide. The majority of these women will die from the disease: Ovarian Cancer is responsible for an estimated 140,000 deaths per year, worldwide. Cervical Cancer is alarmingly on the rise in South and East Asia, Latin America and Africa with the incidence and death rate higher than it has been in 30 years.  These silent and deadly diseases are a major global priority.

Globe-athon is an unprecedented, international call-to-action that will shine a light on below the belt cancers. Join us.  Kickstart a movement long overdue. It takes just one step to make a world of difference!

We are planning on walking, for more information visit:
http://globeathon.com/events/wisconsin-usa/

Happy Easter!

Thankful for all of this:

Happy Easter!

Surrendering on Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.  I woke up to this sunny, beautiful morning!

But, I didn't sleep well last night.  I haven't all week.  I've been doing a lot of thinking, praying, stressing, praying, thinking.  On Wednesday afternoon, we received the results from my 3 month check up with the gyn/oncologist.  The tests I had on Tuesday revealed some abnormal cells.  The nurse stressed, "don't worry, it's not cancer"... they're just abnormal.  The oncologist wants to see me again in 3 weeks.

My initial reaction was: of course, it's happening again, here we go.  Ever since my initial cancer diagnoses 2 years ago, I've been waiting for this bad news.  I have had good results every 3 months for 2 years.  Every time it seems almost too good to be true.  Could this nightmare really be over?  A thing of the past?  But then here's that pessimistic whisper in the back of my head, saying, just wait for it.  It will come back to haunt you.

My second reaction was to lay on the kitchen floor and cry. I can't do this again, not again. It's going to ruin all our plans.  This is it, this is my story, the end of me.  I was finally beginning to feel like I could breathe again, and now this.  Back to square one...I just can't...

But, I have to get up.  How?  Willie just woke up from his nap, he needs me.  How?  I can't even move.  I've got to stand up.  I've go to live my life.  How?

Like a zombie?  That's what I felt like Wednesday.  I got up and I went through the motions.  My mind was everywhere else...from my best case scenario to my worst case scenario and everything in between.  Worrying, stressing, crying.  Wondering about the Hows.  And then I opened my email.

There in a daily devotional, was my answer.  I can do this through Christ.  That's How.  We can do all things through Him, who gives us strength.  I must surrender myself.  Like really, really do it this time.  Finally, do it.  It's easy to say "I've surrendered".  It's even easier to have the intentions of surrendering...down the road...when I'm not trying to get done what I want to get done in this life first.  But, now here it is...looking right back at me.  Saying, this is the answer, this is the time.  It's not on our terms.

And, that's the hard part.  It's not on our terms.  It's on God's terms.  Does that mean everything will be ok? Essentially, yes, that's exactly what it means.  But...on my terms...everything being ok means that I'm healthy,  that our family grows, and that this family remains together and that we are all healthy and safe.  So, is this what God has in store for me and for us?  I don't know.  Here is where faith steps in....or should I say barges in.  When a regular afternoon turns into sobbing on the kitchen floor, there's only one thing that can help you get back up.  Faith.  Faith in knowing that everything will be ok.  It will.  In the end, everything will fall into place and work perfectly.  This may mean I get sick again, it may mean any number of other diseases or worldly disasters.  But, there is a plan.  And, I have faith in that.

There was a little prayer in this devotional email from Wednesday.  After I read it, it's all I could think about.  I need to surrender my life to God.  For real this time.  If it is His will, let me be healed...but if not, then I am part of a bigger plan, and I am ok with that.  This little idea (or huge really) had me laying awake at night.  It's a hard thing to think about and a hard thing to say out loud.  But, the idea of saying it...or praying it...made me feel at peace...not so worried about the future.  Because, in the end, it will be ok.

The devotional said:

“Father, if this problem, pain, sickness, or circumstance is needed to fulfill your purpose and glory in my life or in another’s life, please don’t take it away!"

Wow.  I get it.  I've been praying and begging all this time, "heal me, heal me, heal me".  But, there's so much more than that!  It shot straight to my core, I finally get it.  So, I carried this prayer around in my pocket for 3 days.  Literally.  I left the email open on my phone and looked at it from time to time.  The original message was about Jesus and the great sacrifice on the cross.  Even though Jesus got scared, in the end, He gave himself for us.  And, that's the most important lesson of all.

So, on this beautiful morning, I did it.  I spent my time on my knees, as the warm sunshine fell in through the window, while Willie slept peacefully in bed and Brad was on his way to work.  God and I had a little chat. And, I'm not gonna say that I'm not scared and that I don't wonder what the future holds, what I will find out from the oncologist in 3 weeks.  But, I will say that I'm ok.  I'm really ok now.




(The original devotional can be found here at PurposeDriven)

Adoption: To the Pregnant, to the Birth Mamas...

Sometimes, when I'm having a hard day during this "waiting" phase of our adoption, I find myself on our adoption agency website (American Adoptions).  I browse through the Domestic Adoption Situations... in case there's something calling to me (usually these special circumstances are way over our budget), then I will look through the other Waiting Families...sizing up our competition I guess.  I will look at our family's profile, wishing I would have said something different, used a different picture, worn cooler clothes or gotten a trendier haircut.  Although I know none of these things will shorten our wait, they help me get through the hard days.  While Willie naps, I obsess about the baby we are longing for.  The baby we are praying for, even though we don't even know if it has a heartbeat yet.

So yesterday, was one of those days.  As I was browsing American Adoptions, I came across a video aimed towards women considering adoption.  I started watching it, and was shocked at what I saw!  The pregnant woman in the video clicked on OUR faces as she scrolled through profiles!  Then, I saw us...with Willie...twirling him on the beach.  And, at the end, a close-up of Willie!  I couldn't believe it!  They used footage from our profile for this promotional ad!  

During those hard days, aside from obsessing on the internet, I write in my adoption journal, and I pray.  It never fails, when I'm feeling really down and discouraged, as if we will never connect with a birth mom and never raise another baby, God gives me a little hope.  Just a glimpse, something to hold on to, urging me to keep the faith. 

So, there it is!  I am so excited that we are part of this wonderful message!  But, as I watched this, it also reminded me of how hard this decision is for birth moms.  

To you, dear birth mother:

I have no idea what you are going through.  What a wonderful, loving woman you are to consider adoption for your unborn child.  I don't know how to give you peace, or how to comfort you as you struggle with so many choices.  However, I can tell you about the only thing I know...Love...

This child may be born with your beautiful eyes...I will make sure he sees the world without judgement.

This child may have your long fingers, your strong hands...I will teach her to use them to help the needy.

This child may have your smile, your lips, your dimple...I will help them change the world through their speech.

This child will have your genetics, your heart, your lungs, your mind...together, through your love and our love, this precious baby will grow strong and humble, spreading love, kindness and forgiveness.

To view our family profile, please visit American Adoptions by clicking here.

My Wednesday - as seen from Friday

On Wednesday I had an appointment with my oncologist.  Another 3 months has passed....all too soon.  It's been 90 days since my last appointment...an emotional roller-coaster that lasts 90 days.  Only the end isn't fun.  It's stressful, and it's scary, and it sucks.  

It was also time for a 6 month CT scan, which meant a long day in the hospital.  Willie and I drove to Madison and met Brad at noon at the hospital.  We met in the parking garage, parked on the roof like we always do.  We rode the elevator down to the ground floor, and walked through the hospital doors together...the smell of disinfectant and cafeteria food hitting me in the face, making me feel sick.  Too many memories of those revolving doors....walking through them for biopsies, CT scans, MRI, 3 surgeries, 28 days of radiation.  It makes me sick...every. single. time. 

Like I said, the day was long, so I'm gonna bi-pass the details.  Here's the short (haha) version: I get an IV, drink 3 tall glasses of "contrast" flavored with powdered lemonade (the 1st glass is ok, the 2nd is tolerable, the 3rd makes me want to throw up) over the period of an hour, get a CT scan, get diarrhea from the contrast, wait for appointment with gynecology oncologist (I am now free to eat & drink for the first time that day since the scan is over, but I'm too nervous and sick to stomach anything), wait for the doctor with the scan results, wait for the doctor, wait for the doctor...& finally see the doctor, get the results, have the exam/pap, schedule my next appointment....90 days from Wednesday.  This process totaled 4/1/2 hours and left me feeling.....great!  Clean CT scan results will do that to you every time!!  

Even though I received my good results, for the 6th time in the 18 months that I've been cancer free (woo woo!), it's still overwhelming.  To receive good news is overwhelming, to wait for the appointment is overwhelming, to worry and to try not to worry, and to pray and to plead, and to try to understand and justify...it's all just so overwhelming.  So, it's hard.  And, worst of all, it strains my relationships...with my family, with my husband, with my son.  I yelled at Willie Wednesday morning.  ME...I never yell...and I did.  I yelled at him, and the minute I did I felt like the worst mom in the world.  Luckily, he's 23 months, and he didn't care...actually he laughed.  He laughed and I cried.  Maybe he laughed as a defense mechanism, I don't know.  But, I cried because I was overwhelmed.  I was scared, I was trying to brush my teeth before I drove to the hospital, and I was scared...the kind of scared that makes your bones ache.  I hope you don't know what I'm talking about.

It strains my relationship with Brad.  I get stressed and I get tense and I can't think of anything or anyone else.  A day or two before my appointment I stop functioning.  I can't cook, or clean, or do the dishes.  I can't.  I try not to let this happen, but inevitably it does.  About every 88 days, the roller-coaster slows down and comes to a halt.  So, I neglect the man that I love the most.  And, he understands.  He's been there with me the whole time...holding my hand during a biopsy, rubbing my neck before I'm taken to the OR, smiling at me as I wake up from surgery, taking care of Willie when I couldn't, treating me to margaritas after receiving good results, and being there, always, always being there.

As we got back to our cars, Wednesday, on the roof of the parking ramp, I realized I was exhausted.  I was hungry...really hungry.  I had a headache, a throbbing tension headache.  Did I mention I was exhausted?  Physically, emotionally, spiritually.  I've been a Christian as long as I can remember.  I thought I had faith, but looking back, I can now see how shallow it once was.  And, it's still growing, trust me!  I've been praying for a long time.  But, over the past 2 years my prayers have changed a lot.  Instead of "heal me", I pray for God to give me strength, as I know He's always with me.  Instead of "show me why", I pray for patience and the ability to fully trust Him.  Instead of "take away my pain", I pray for God to use me, help me use this experience for His works.  Phew, that's a hard one.  They're all hard, and I don't even understand them fully, but we are talking (God and I), and we are figuring it out.  To quote the author Philip Yancey, "Maybe sometimes God keeps us in the dark about 'why' not so much because He wants to keep us in the dark, as because He knows we are incapable of absorbing so much light."

We got home from the hospital a little after 5pm.  Brad stopped and picked up sandwiches on the way home.  I downed my 6 inch sub like it was going out of style!  I took a couple IB Profen, drank a glass of water (important to drink lots of liquids after a CT scan...except alcohol and caffeine, FYI) and my head hit the pillow on the couch.  I took one of those naps where you wake up with a wet pillow and drool all over your cheek.  It was awesome.  Today (Fri), I received word that my pap test came back normal.  Hallelujah!  So, here we are once again strapped into our seats, sitting on top of the first big hill, about to go down (this is the best part), and start the roller-coaster all over again.  Today is a wonderful today!  Wednesday was rough, but it's part of my life, and I have my friends, my family, and my faith to get me through.  Thank God for that!  Until next time, gonna keep on keepin on....loving, living, praying, and enjoying every bit this life.