Limping to the finish

Monday is the beginning of the end. It is the last week of school and the last week of treatment. We are dragging, limping, struggling over the finish line. When the mom, the go to cheerleader, organizer, keep it in order person is down for the count, everyone struggles. We have had victories, but I must say we have barely made it. This year my kids earned grades that will never be quantified on a report card. Ella will spend her last week in elementary this week. My heart cannot take that in. Mickey said it well when she said how the little children in our home can escape to their imaginations, but Ella can’t. Together we are limping across the finish line of this school year, and I couldn’t be more proud.

I want to celebrate, but I’m tired. Deep tired. No words for it tired. We all are. I wanted to celebrate, party, dance, but I mostly just want to be done.

Mickey coming has relieved much worry and stress. She is a peace giving gift we feel unworthy of every moment she gives to us so generously.

20130519-233059.jpg

Last week I asked if I could have people join me in my last radiation as I ring the bell to mark the end of this journey. They were gracious and encouraging. I told them how I wanted my kids to see me do that. One sweet woman offered to show them the room where I receive treatment. I looked at her soberly and said I never want my kids to see the inside of that room. Radiation is a place for only patients, and my constant prayer is that they would NEVER know cancer. So I look forward to limping across the finish line with you all. Your prayers have carried me, comforted me, strengthened my resolve, and loved me.

We have had some hard won victories this year. Books finished, lunches packed, homework completed, responsibility for failures accepted. We have had relational victories, hearts shared, hurts revealed, tears shed. Our life has felt lived in the very important small moments. Yesterday the big girls and I went to have our nails done to celebrate Harper passing her timed math test and Ella having her graduation today. My sweet Jen had gifted me this treat before my journey started. Sadly, the business owner decided not to have integrity. It was hugely disappointing. I confronted the woman all tear stained and ugly crying. Got in the car and the girls cried at seeing me in tears. This was not how I wanted our celebration to end. I loaded us up, drove to a new place, and fun was had by all. Jen joined us for dinner and we laughed and giggled and quoted Nacho Liebre. I highly recommend the nail salon in the Shoppes at Briargate.

20130521-064222.jpg

20130521-064232.jpg

20130521-064248.jpg
Tonight we celebrate the last day of elementary for my oldest. Gulp, double gulp. Big adventures to come. Thank you all for championing us to the end of this journey. We may not be finishing strong, but I promise we will finish. I hear all my college day speakers in my head: “excellence, excellence, finish strong, excellence.” And I kind of giggle. I may have failed them, but I’m no failure. I have learned a new way to live and I think it’s excellent in its own way. In grace, in beautiful failure and repentance, in seeking joy in my moments, in not needing to be a winner/leader, but rather a dependent follower that has been humbled. Life has humbled us, and for that we are grateful.

20130521-064940.jpg

Sunday Struggles

Sunday night I struggle to sleep. Anxiety builds for Monday mornings dawn and another treatment. But I give thanks this is my last Sunday night. I give thanks that the end is in sight. I’m tired. I’m beginning to feel how extremely tired I really am. A tired a long nap won’t help.

Today Jason preached on fear. I have known great fear this year. Faith has come in grace provided in my moments. But I have struggled. I have succumbed to worry. I haven’t the strength to control my environment anymore. Isn’t that how we minimize fear, with control? Well, I do. And at the end of this strength…. There I find faith again on this road. Not me faith, not fight hard faith, not pick up your bootstraps faith, not even broken, beggarly, help me faith. But just simple faith. Faith grown in me without me. Faith enriched without my efforts. Faith placed on me, having zero to do with me. Faith that will last when my breath no longer remains. I could never improve it with me. It was only Jesus. The perfect Sunday school answer. It was all Jesus. Only he could break through my exterior of strength in weakness, and grow faith when nothing remains but a weary weary weary me. Broken me, loved by perfectly broken Him. It’s enough. It’s enough to help me to bed tonight, and to get me there tomorrow.

20130520-002130.jpg

The White Flag

I have been very selfish lately. I kept trying to tough it out through radiation. I believed we could make it alone without live in help. It was really me saying, “Jason, you can do it?” Every time I tanked he was left to pick up the pieces.

Last week I realized we needed help. I could not tough it through my exhaustion. My body is just so tired after chemo, surgery, and now radiation. Jason was paying the price, as were the kids. I asked for more help with meals and Jason invited Mickey to come help us again. He said he was in tears.

Our sweet Mickey is coming tomorrow for three weeks. She’s going to get us through the next two weeks and she knew I would still need time once I’m done. What an absolute gift. We are so humbled by her generosity.

This morning I rejoice in Mickey coming to help us. This morning I rejoice that spring might be showing up. This morning I rejoice that I’m beginning my final two weeks. Praise be, though the last leg seems hard and long, the end is in sight.

20130513-073546.jpg

Oh the pressure

I have noticed a trend this year. I have seen a lot of Facebook posts, blogs, comments circling around what pastors should not say on Mother’s Day. I have felt an anxiety for my guy. There is a lot of hurt surrounding this day, and we all long for someone to be sensitive to us in our pain. I understand. Hurt for those who have lost their mamas, hurt for those who have a broken relationship with their mama, hurt for those who have not found the man in their life to make them a mama, and women with great longing to be a mama and struggle with infertility. Oh how deeply these hurts hurt. This year I hurt, because instead of being the mama I have wanted to be, my residence has been my bed.

But then I remember the gospel. The gospel is for these hurting wounds that cut so deeply. Jesus is the answer to our pain. Seeing these vacancies that take deep residence in our life, we more deeply understand that the only one that can enter this place is Jesus. As I have prayed for my guy to gently love our ladies this morning, I’m reminded what wonderful provision Jesus provided our family in Jason. I have planned a Mother’s Day gift for Jason today. He has done the heavy lifting of this family this year. He has signed papers, kissed the wounds, packed lunches, driven to school, shepherded littles to bed. He has done it all without complaint. And when I hear all the rules placed on pastors for today, I rest in knowing that my guy understands its our inadequacy and neediness that creates in us a longing for Jesus. He has the opportunity to point us all to that this morning. If your pastor falls short today, please remember they are objects in need of grace this morning too.

Lastly, I have so many precious mamas in my life. Mothering has a broad definition to me. The beauty of this year was being able to see the many mothers in my life step up and mother and shepherd my family. My own sweet mama and the many mamas in my life carried us through a dark season. The community and strength of many mothers is powerful. I pray today is a day where we all rest deeply in Jesus. In our hurt and neediness, I pray we cling to the only one that brings comfort and peace. Thank you precious mamas for entering this season with us. Thank you dearest Jason for carrying a heavy load this year.

I’m including an article worth your time. Where we tie ourselves in knots as mamas, Ann has a way of freeing us up.

a Holy Experience

Thank you Jesus for this man!

20130512-073502.jpg

20130512-073548.jpg

20130512-073609.jpg

20130512-073659.jpg

Lamentations 3: 22-26

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.”

The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.

Dangerous Mind

Matthew 12:15
Great multitudes followed him, and he healed them all.

This was the verse yesterday in Spurgeon’s Morning by Morning. He spoke of the power of God to heal, but God shows his power ultimately in healing our souls. The imputing of peace to those He knows is the healing our hearts truly need. I wholeheartedly believe this, but I daily struggle to take hold of this truth. Today, I want the healing of my body, like the masses that pressed upon Jesus for the healing of their wounds, diseases, misery. Like them, I miss the point, I want comfort this moment, this day, this week, for my tired little body. I forget the amazing work of healing to my spirit that has already happened. In this place, I struggle with gratitude. I don’t want to list one thousand gifts. I simply want the end of this long wearisome chapter for me, for my guy, for my kids. I want it to stop.

Today is already better than yesterday. After my daughter day Monday, my Tuesday treatment knocked me flat. This morning I sat in my car for a long time crying, so strongly tempted to drive away. If I didn’t know Carl was waiting inside for me, I think I could have driven away and lied to Jason that I had been to treatment. Carl and a ‘you can do it’ text from a friend helped me face my hard today. I cried the entire treatment. I prayed for my friend in Asheville. I had a moment of panic where I thought the machine broke and wasn’t stopping.

Then I met my Story, Jason, Carl, and a sweet friend of my baby. Instead of seeing a weary mama fighting through her day, she has a sweet friend to play with. I keep hearing, “let’s pretend we are mermaids, I’m the mommy and you are my baby.” It’s brightens this rainy day. Sweet little girl play.

This road is wearisome and long. Medical bills pile on top of medical bills, fear sneaks into uninvited places. With Spring approaching, I would normally be filling Jason’s inbox with dreams of raised vegetable beds, chicken houses, and playhouses. But today’s victory was a made bed, a load of laundry love started, and walking dirty dishes to the kitchen. That was more that the sum total of yesterday. I then called my guy to tell him not to worry, that I have enough energy to make through lunch. Then I remember those Joel Salatin and Wendall Barry daydreams of farming, and I feel like radiation made me forget to dream. The weight of debt and fear chokes out joy..I was a person overflowing with dreams, ideas, wonder. Where did that fade to? I would settle for the mama with enough energy to go on a field trip with her daughters class.

But then I stop and hear the little voices in the basement that have freedom to be a mermaid, they have joy in turning into a puppy for a moment. Recapturing joy in the midst of sorrow and fear, that is the struggle. Taking hold of the healing that has already happened in the very depths of my being. Resting in Jesus and not allowing my circumstances to tie me in knots. That’s the mountain I have to climb today.

Yesterday, I had one task. One. It was to make scones with Ella for her country report today. I could not do it. In tears, I asked Jason to call our precious British friend and ask for help. My friend was a gift of grace to me yesterday. She and her sweet daughters not only baked 35 scones, she delivered them warm to my house with cream and jam. Her oldest daughter even fixed me a perfect warm scone and jam and brought it to my weary seat. Another friend delivered a meal and a gentle smile. I see the grace, I see it. This journey just feels like it will never be over. I am weary of looking for the grace. I want to deliver the scones, I want to make the dinner, I want to comfort the broken hearted, I want to build a damn garden and have the strength to tend it, I want to not be sad when my mailbox is filled with medical bills. I know Jason would pay absolutely any price to get me well, it’s hard to keep that in sight.

Time to focus my ears on little girls and make believe. That’s a reality I want to be in today. My washing machine just finished, and I have the strength to change it over…. My mountain to climb, join me. What is the mountain you are struggling to climb today?

20130508-101438.jpg

If you enjoyed this article and wish to join me on this messy journey of life in faith, please consider leaving a comment, or subscribing via email or the news feed to have future articles delivered to your feed reader.

Half Way

Today I hit the halfway point with radiation. There is a part of me that feels like celebrating and another part of me that is feeling the side effects more sharply. I’m growing tired earlier in the day. Some of the simplest chores take all of the wind out of my sails. I sometimes despair over the simplest chores. I look at my aching skin and wonder if it can withstand 14 more treatments.

Today was doctor day. It was a good meeting with my Radiologist, possibly the best yet. I told him how I’m struggling with chills in the afternoon. He said it wasn’t from radiation but most likely from my hormone imbalance from chemo. I laughed hard and agreed, “you are ABSOLUTELY right, I’m imbalanced.” He looked anxious, and said he didn’t mean anything bad. I laughed even harder, and assured him he was spot on with his assessment. He then let himself laugh really hard too. As we were leaving the office, he patted my back and told me to hang in there. It was a kindness, and I greatly appreciated it.

All weekend I prayed to have some special time with each of the kids before school is out. Yesterday, I kept Ella with me. I wanted her to see a bit of my journey. I wanted time to connect with her. We needed it. I needed it, she needed it. I spent every bit of my energy on this sweet girl. Jason came home and was beaming with pride that the day went well. He ushered me to a restful spot and loved us all through our bedtime routine.

20130507-111312.jpg

20130507-111322.jpg
We ended the day snuggled in the chair. I was so tired I almost needed Jason to carry me to bed, but it was the best most worthy exhaustion I have felt in a long time. In the midst of this new trial of radiation, we have functioned in get through it mode, but to have a day of intentional time with Ella was so nice. Today, my energy is still gone. I look forward to my day with another of my children. I love them so.

20130507-111716.jpg

My dear Susan came with me today. She has walked a hard year with us and the Frye family. Her gentle kindness is restful and easy. She sweetly shared her story with me over tea. How I love to hear from the hearts of others. Thank you friend.

20130507-111921.jpg

Worship

Today the crowded table moves to Eagleview Middle School. Westside Church (1325 Vindicator 80919) is hosting lunch following worship. We are a social bunch, and I look forward to an extended time with friends today. Consider yourself invited. I attempted a new recipe from Pinterest. Only one child poked a hole in it. I’ll report later if it was a hit or a fail.