New Name

I’m trying out some new names.  I haven’t pastored in several years so I don’t really feel like clergygirl anymore.  And I’m starting nursing school in September.  I actually feel like a post-cancer girl who was thrown a curve ball, who’s trying to figure out my place in this world.  I’m also a little angry (thus the hot, not because I think myself hot, lets just be clear about that right now) about breast cancer in general and what it takes from women, and men too.  Is it ok to be angry about breast cancer?  I’m angry enough to run a marathon to raise money for research.  I suppose that qualifies as being a little hot under the collar.

So you can tell me what you think of my new name.  Does it fit? Did you prefer clergygirl?

 

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Under Threat!

Looking forward to reading this book….check out this article and book and the threat/assault against our breasts!

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My Ipod #1

Here’s the man who will get me to mile 26.  The words of his tunes speak to my soul.

Just in case you wondered what was on my ipod or needed to add a little spring to your step.

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Perception Obstacles

After reading this article on perception of women in leadership in the church I felt a desire to create my own little picture quote.  Lets get past the perception obstacle and start placing people based on their giftedness and calling rather than gender.

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I’m Gonna Love You Through

“After a few days, Jesus returned to Capernaum, and word got around that he was back home. A crowd gathered, jamming the entrance so no one could get in or out. He was teaching the Word. They brought a paraplegic to him, carried by four men. When they weren’t able to get in because of the crowd, they removed part of the roof and lowered the paraplegic on his stretcher. Impressed by their bold belief, Jesus said to the paraplegic, “Son, I forgive your sins.”

Some religion scholars sitting there started whispering among themselves, “He can’t talk that way! That’s blasphemy! God and only God can forgive sins.”

Jesus knew right away what they were thinking, and said, “Why are you so skeptical? Which is simpler: to say to the paraplegic, ‘I forgive your sins,’ or say, ‘Get up, take your stretcher, and start walking’? Well, just so it’s clear that I’m the Son of Man and authorized to do either, or both . . .” (he looked now at the paraplegic), “Get up. Pick up your stretcher and go home.” And the man did it—got up, grabbed his stretcher, and walked out, with everyone there watching him. They rubbed their eyes, incredulous—and then praised God, saying, “We’ve never seen anything like this!” Mark 2:1-12

I recently spoke at my church on this passage.  I challenged the congregation to be “mat carriers” for each other and talked about the “mat carriers” I experienced while going through cancer.  Then I saw this video and it reminded me of how much it means when people reach out to you and truly care for you during difficult times in your life.  The paraplytic had four friends who carried him to Jesus, they dug through a roof to get him to the feet of Jesus.

So thankful for the people who cared for me and went above and beyond to help me feel His presence…..even today.

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Good Hands (Fear Not #2)

“Don’t be bluffed into silence by the threats of bullies. There’s nothing they can do to your soul, your core being. Save your fear for God, who holds your entire life—body and soul—in his hands.” (Matthew 10:28)

I spoke at a cancer conference yesterday at a local church.  I knew I was supposed to speak about my experience with reconstruction but somehow I missed that I was supposed to speak in the main session and share my testimony.  Woops!  When I arrived I forgot to pick up a schedule on my way in and I had this very creeping feeling that I was supposed to be up on the main panel.  Maybe it was when the coordinator announced she had survivors from their 60’s, 50’s, 40’s and 30’s.  I looked around for the other 30 something survivor.  I dunno….just had a feeling.  So after a woman in her 40’s spoke all of a sudden I heard my name.  Yikes.  All I can say is that it is a good thing my professional experience involves speaking in public.  I was actually glad to speak and to not have laid awake last night worrying about what I would say.  It was better this way.  

It’s actually these kind of opportunities that are helping me heal.

I preached a few weeks ago at our church.  

They are reminders to me that I am not completely washed up and useless.  Which is very much how I’ve felt this past couple years. 

Worried the cancer ruined my ability to function fully.  Worried the painful experiences with the church would forever ruin my spirit. 

I do believe I have been hurt by the “bullies” of life.  I know I’m not alone.  Beaten and broken physically. 

                                        Words that hurt. 
 Painful illness.  

                                                                                                                                 Deformities. 

                                                                  Broken hearts. 
I could go on and on.  

But I’m counting on deeper things than physical hurts.

I’m hanging on for the soul awakening.  The blooming yet to come from living in the fear of the Lord rather than fear of people or cancer.

I am far deeper a person than my breasts or my issues with anxiety.

I am thankful for people who have given me opportunities to remind me that I am far more than my physical struggles.  That I am capable. That I am healing.  That I am blooming. That my soul is in good hands.

 

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Accepted

Well, I did it.  I got accepted to a nursing program.  I’m ecstatic.  I applied for one other program, but it doesn’t really matter because the one that was “reasonably priced and close to home” was the one that accepted me.  I start this Fall.

I think this is where I thank cancer for lighting a fire under my booty to do more.  To not let my fears overcome me.  To listen to my heart and not the voice of impossibility.

My mantra lately has been “I will not let cancer win.”  I beat cancer physically, but I will not let it hold me back emotionally.  I believe it will always be a challenge but I am learning to live in today and only take one step at a time.  Leave wiggle room, but set goals.

I am one step closer to my dream!

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Fear Not #1

I’ve been dealing a lot lately with anxiety and depression.  How’s that for coming out of retirement and being honest.  I think when I went through cancer I thought that eventually I would be glued back together, have a few physical aches, pains, and scars, but I’d be happy.  I’d be a survivor.  I’d be the warrior on top of the mountain beating my breast having slain the giant.  Right? 

It doesn’t seem to be quite that way.  Well….at first I felt like a conqueror.  I did beat my breast (or what was left of them) and stood proud…..I had survived!  I was so happy.  I didn’t want to take mediocre in my life anymore.  I wasn’t going to lay on my death bed and say “I wish I’d done this,” or “I wish I’d done that.”  I was going to live fully.

So I wrote and I was happy and cancer was gone. 

But then fear started sneaking in.  Here are some ways it sneaks up on me:

1. Silly little lumps or bumps, or pains or bleeding.  I don’t want to live wondering about every little change that is a bit unusual, but if it lasts longer than a few weeks I usually say something to my doctor, which usually leads to scans or blood tests, and it’s the skanky-scans that give me cause for fear.  Just the waiting and the wondering.  I thought I’d get used to it, but I don’t, not really.  It still causes anxiety and I don’t like it.

2. About a year ago I decided to quit blogging.  It was starting to get too painful.  It hit too close to home.  I had become friends with many of the women I blogged with about cancer and had joined a group blog called “Mothers with Cancer.”  I know we all knew the seriousness of our cancers, I just don’t know if any of us really thought it through as to what would happen when one person didn’t make it, and then another, and another and another.  We’ve lost many.  I quit blogging because it became too hard.  I felt sad, I felt guilty, I just couldn’t understand how I was doing so well, while others were slowly dying of cancer.  It didn’t make sense and I didn’t want more fear and anxiety in my life.  But it didn’t really work because even though I quit blogging I couldn’t just cut them out of my life.  I still read their blogs, was friends with them on facebook.  The plan backfired. Not that I really wanted to cut them out of my life, I just didn’t want to hurt anymore.

3.  I think there is also a sense of urgency when someone has cancer.  The physical pain is very visible.  No hair usually gives it away, an ashen tone from being tired or a nice pink flush from the steroids given during the chemo.  But then the flat chest too.  So the doctors go about fixing you and they do their best and you hurry and fight and you stay focused on getting better and then you’re given the free and clear, the NED, no evidence of disease…..and then….”chirp, chirp, you sit and twiddle your thumbs and listen to the silence for a little while and you wonder just how to pick up and move on.  And your family is just glad it’s not cancer and you’re healthy, at least on the outside, but on the inside you’re still hurting.

4.  And then there is the clean-up after cancer….finances, children and their scars, marriage and the strain it puts on the relationship and a host of other issues that were put on the backburner while you try to fight cancer.

And it’s just going to take time.

All while you’re trying to enjoy life because YOU LIVED, and you dare not complain, because YOU LIVED, and you better live fully every single day because YOU LIVED.

You feel guilty, because others didn’t, and won’t.  And husbands are missing their wives, and children are growing up without moms.  And it all seems overwhelming.

And you still have aches and pains to remind you of your scars.

And the internal scars sometimes feel far worse than the external ones.

But nobody really knows.

And you wonder if that happy-go-lucky girl who lived without fear and anxiety will ever return?

And in some ways you tell yourself you are happier now because you see pain more deeply.  You notice people’s pain more.  You feel deeply.

But then you wish sometimes you could laugh more.

And so all I can do is try to move forward the best I know how.  Reading scripture, God’s promise to me.  His love letter to us.  And writing.

I can’t promise anything.  I have no idea how this writing will go or how consistent I’ll be, but I’ve decided to cover as many “fear not” scriptures as I can.  I’m pretty sure there are alot in the Bible.  So I think I’m set for a while.

I’m hoping God’s Word will help heal my broken spirit.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”  Matthew 6:34

Taking it one day at a time.

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What do I have in common with Crystal Gayle?

I’ve made a decision about my hair.  Alright, I made it a long time ago, but I’m just now coming clean with you.  The day Jeremy shaved my head was the day I knew, when and if it came back, I would grow it forever, and I mean forever.  I’m working on a two-year bob right now.  I’m a secret wanna be Crystal Gayle.  Not the “I never trim the ends” wanna be, but the ridiculously, past my hipperoo’s, wanna be.  When I’m thinking with a clear head, which is very rarely these days, and I look at a picture of Crystal with her uber long hair I think “who in heaven’s name told her that looks good?”  It has to be some really warped reason I’m sure…..like maybe she was one of those kids that didn’t grow hair till they were 10 and she vowed when it came in she would never cut it.  Or maybe they couldn’t afford bath towels when she was growing up so her hair was an easy remedy to a perplexing problem.  I dunno. 

But somewhere in my warped post-chemo, “I can’t escape cancer” brain of mine, I think.

a.  I really want hair.  I missed it so much when it was gone I want it and I want LOTS of it.  I want to feel it on my shoulders, tie it in knots like lady gaga, and let my girls learn to french braid on it. 

b.  If I were being totally honest, I’m probably waiting for the day they tell me I need chemo again… but THIS time I will be ready.  It’ll be so long I’ll be able to make my own wig, or maybe glue it back on my head if a wig costs too much.  I’ll be the ultimate comb-over, but I don’t care because it will be MY HAIR! Let me say it again because it sounds so good to type it…..MY HAIR.  I even like to type MY EYEBROWS, but that’s a whole nother post about someone with a wicked uni-brow and I’m not going to take it that far.  (At least I don’t think I will.  Oh that’s right, my eyebrows don’t meet in the middle, so scratch that idea.)

c.  And the final reason is because when you’ve lost 2 items of “sexy” as a woman, the hair is a logical place to turn.  Especially when 2 items of sexy will never really return, they can try for you but they will ultimately never ever return…..and we’re not talking “complaining after nursing they won’t return,” we’re talking never again will you feel. anything. period. return.  But the hair most likely will return, and this is good.

And so Crystal Gayle, tonight I’m not raising a glass of wine to you (although you might think I’ve been drinking with my ludicrous ramblings) because that might mess with my hormones and I don’t want cancer to come back, but I do have my feet up with a bowl of popcorn and a diet pepsi, and so here’s to you and your hair. 

I love hair.

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