Perspective

 

Radiation for the thoracic lesion was completed today.  It has officially fried my esophagus (hopefully temporary) so I assume it has made an impact on the thoracic lesion (hopefully permanent). This week has put many things into perspective.  Ten years ago this week I came back from MDAnderson in a horribly bumpy ambulance ride to a rehab hospital in Tyler after surgery to remove a third of my femur.  The doctor wanted me there for six weeks, but Christmas was upon us and I had been told that I had a short time to live.  So not expecting to be here for another Christmas I insisted on going home to spend that last Christmas with my family.  God has richly blessed me to be here ten years later.

 

As I have gone for radiation treatments the last two weeks I have noticed many awaiting doctor visits or treatments in the waiting area who are so much worse than myself.  Some short of breath despite oxygen, some in wheelchairs with little hope of getting out, some obviously feeling more exhausted than I feel. That, and the memory of ten years ago helps me to view what is been going on with my cancer with a different perspective. I am reminded of how blessed I am. I could be in a much worse shape today, BUT I am not there yet. I am content to be where God has me at this moment.

 

I recently saw this Christmas hymn and love the words.  May it bless you this Christmas season.  Have a blessed Christmas and remember He whose birth we rejoice in.

 

I Cannot Tell by William Fullerton

 

I cannot tell why He, whom angels worship,
  Should set His love upon the sons of men,
Or why, as Shepherd, He should seek the wand’rers,
  To bring them back, they know not how or when.
But this I know, that He was born of Mary,
  When Bethl’hem’s manger was His only home,
And that He lived at Nazareth and labored,
  And so the Savior, Savior of the world, is come.

2

I cannot tell how silently He suffered,
  As with His peace He graced this place of tears,
Or how His heart upon the Cross was broken,
  The crown of pain to three and thirty years.
But this I know, He heals the broken-hearted,
  And stays our sin, and calms our lurking fear,
And lifts the burden from the heavy laden,
  For yet the Savior, Savior of the world, is here.

3

I cannot tell how He will win the nations,
  How He will claim His earthly heritage,
How satisfy the needs and aspirations
  Of east and west, of sinner and of sage.
But this I know, all flesh shall see His glory,
  And He shall reap the harvest He has sown,
And some glad day His sun shall shine in splendor
  When He the Savior, Savior of the world, is known.

4

I cannot tell how all the lands shall worship,
  When, at His bidding, every storm is stilled,
Or who can say how great the jubilation
  When all the hearts of men with love are filled.
But this I know, the skies will thrill with rapture,
  And myriad, myriad human voices sing,
And earth to heaven, and heaven to earth, will answer:
  At last the Savior, Savior of the world, is King.

 

 

Thanksgiving

 

Next week (or possibly later this week) I start radiation for a metastatic lesion in my thoracic spine.  It was discovered after an increase in back pain and sciatica sent me in for scans. Today I consulted with the radiation doctor.  After “planning” tomorrow he will decide what kind of radiation, but it will be high dose likely daily for two weeks.

 

A month before Thanksgiving as I was awaiting testing and results of those tests I determined that I would focus daily on the many things I have to be thankful for.  The list is truly endless and I’m sure I would not reach its end in my lifetime.  However, here are some of the things I have found to particularly give thanks for:

 

I am thankful that I can be joyful because where I am now is where God has assigned me to be today.

 

I am incredibly thankful for family and friends who surround me with their prayers and love daily.

 

When I lay awake at night, I am thankful for the ability to pray for friends who have entrusted me to pray for them.

 

I am thankful that when I am tied to my recliner I can still enjoy reading.  I am also thankful that when I forget what I have read I can find new enjoyment in reading the same thing over!

 

The pain makes me thankful that I have it so much better than so many.

 

I am thankful that I do not have to be a crotchety old lady complaining about her lot in life (and hopefully will never be) but can find joy in the place God has chosen to put me.

 

I am thankful that sixty-eight years ago, God knew me in my Mother’s womb and has not let go of me since!

 

I am ever so thankful that because God is good, just, and wise, all the time and in ALL circumstances, I can know that this cancer is for my good and for God’s glory.

 

I am overwhelmed daily with thankfulness for the beauty and awesomeness of God’s creation and the lessons that teaches me. I am reminded of Tim Keesee’s encouragement in his book “A Day’s Journey: Stories of Hope and Death-Defying Joy” to think of the trillium wildflowers that paint the forest floor in spring time. The flowers remind us of their Creator __ and ours. They remind us that the Great Gardener purposed to give life, color, fragrance, and beauty even to wildflowers that may never be seen in their brief existence. If our God does that for flowers, He will surely be with His people, giving them His life and filling their days with the fragrance and beauty of His presence.

 

May you be thankful  with with me every day, all day!