The Scar is a sign of beauty, really.

Mar1

It’s been one year and 3 months today. The focus is now on survival. My “TEAM” of doctors watch my health carefully with blood panel work ups and face to face meetings. What one doctor doesn’t measure, the next one does. The appointments seem to be every month.  They share information and keep one another posted as I travel from office to office surrendering my blood and taking off my top to examine The Scar.

I think The Scar would horrify anyone but the person it lives with. One of my sisters who is a surgical nurse encouraged me to google mastectomy images so I could prepare myself before surgery. I think it brought on a hot flash when I first saw what it looked like. Go ahead and google it for yourself and you will see what I mean.. whew. Today, when I look in the mirror I see something very normal looking. I see a close call. I see abounding love. I see my unborn grandchildren. I see God’s Almighty hand reaching down to touch my life and increase my days. I see cleavage where there is none!

Each doc educates me on how to watch  for cancer’s possible return, in The Scar. They are adorable the way they try to describe it and the way they try to alert me without alarming me. They also encourage me to eat right, get rest, drink water… that’s lots of water and exercise. KNOW your body! Listen to what it says, more importantly respond to it.

Keep your stress low! Now that’s funny. This is a flat-out crash course on letting go.
My TEAM, what amazing doctors and compassionate care givers they are. Me and my Scar.. we’re going to be just fine living together. Thank you God!

The First Pitch

Mar1

Her name was Mary. I caught her out of the corner of my eye when I was waiting for instructions from the young volunteer organizing our event. Mary stood with authority, with certainty, with mastery and a gigantic smile as if this were the most important thing in her life. I turned quickly to see the full form of this powerful presence in my peripheral vision. The teal colored glasses, pink baseball cap and a jovial voice gave me every sign that she didn’t care if the world approved; she was comfortable in her own skin. Something about that gave me comfort and I didn’t even know her. But WOW!

Baseball White Ball Equipment Red Thread B

The eight of us survivors gathered on a bright glorious Sunday afternoon to throw out 8 unanimous first pitches. It was the first time I dared to mingle with other cancer survivors. Until now, I would just prefer to wipe the dust off my feet, clip the apron strings and move on from this horrible frightening world of the unknown.  Something deep down said that if I hang out with these people who live with the same threat to their bodies that I live with, then I will never really live again. I’ll be stuck in this pit of sickness.

How can you live with a gun pointing at you all the time? If I get stressed, maybe it will come back. That makes me run for cover and avoid people who walk with flailing arms. If exercising is supposed to be cancer fighting, can you tell me what will happen if I’m too tired or don’t get to it? Does that mean I die? Ridicules thoughts… I know!!! Mary doesn’t think they are so ridicules though, because she has them too.

In fact, Mary is a 4 time survivor. She was told just 3 years ago that she only had 1 year to live. She laughs at the thought of not buying green bananas for that first year. She had to slowly convince herself that it was okay to buy toilet paper in bulk after the second year rolled on by and not a cancer cell could be found anywhere in her body. Her triple negative breast cancer had previously metastasized to her lungs… but no sign of cancer today. She said, “I am learning to live again,” as our conversation moved to the dugout while we waited for our signal to walk on the field.

I realized that the eight of us are playing on the same team and it’s time I get to know other survivors. Who else but my team would want to know the play by play details of the survival game? They can hear the same cheering or the same booing depending on the latest blood work up. These gals know what’s it’s like to wonder if IT will  welcome back and they are not afraid to whisper it from their silent screaming voices. Thank you God , that I can be okay in my uncomfortable skin while in their presence.

We won the baseball game that day.

Angel Armies

Mar1

Abstract, Drop, H2O, Rain, Nature

Have you ever noticed how many sounds are in the quiet places in your life? Have you ever longingly waited for a phone call or for a letter from someone whom you adore? Have you found yourself holding your breath when you saw something amazing before your eyes? Can you recall a time when you waited for a baby to be born? I bet you can remember an old commercial illustrating anticipation as we all waited for ketchup to roll out of the bottle.

 

When cancer treatment is over and your hair grows back, anticipation remains. My loved ones have moved on, the emergency is over. God has set me down and is expecting me to walk again. The bubble that I’ve lived in for the past 15 months is dissolving. My energy is back and I’m crossing things off of my bucket list, but anticipation just won’t disappear. Everything is returning to normal. However, I am not normal anymore… or then again, some might say I never was!

 

I see things so differently now. I have incredible moments of clarity, but there are moments when my head is submerged in the clouds. This vanishing cocoon of affection, protection and weekly Dr.’s visits alarms me. Don’t you see that I will never be the same again? I will hang my hat on HOPE for the rest of my days and anticipation will nestle itself in my soul for a while longer to make my heart race.

 

Constant encouragement and supervision of my health, dare I say, has rendered me handicapped somehow in some way? My last chemo treatment was the most terrifying of all because it meant that we wouldn’t be killing cancer anymore. How do I know we got it all? How do I know it won’t start to grow again? Anticipation.

 

The overwhelming love and attention received was a great distraction and shelter from my reality.  The doctors have faded back out of view; the flowers and meals have stopped coming and the tender encouragement is diminishing. This weaning makes me want to grip dependence, because it feels lonely.  It’s  unpleasant and necessary to get sober in thought. It’s a terribly needy place to rise from and one I don’t want to be seen in.

 

This is the quiet place in life. It’s  after a near miss. It’s when the whirlwind storm is over. This is normal again?  Not so much! Dear Lord, let me hear the sound of your Angel Armies in my quiet place. Let my mind be strong and my tomorrow bright.

There is a way that seems right to a man

Mar8

Proverbs 12:25 NKJ
There is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death.

I love to watch people especially when I’m at the mall. You’ll find the rapport going on between people. The next time you see two people interacting or (not) interacting take a minute to notice their body language. It says so much more than the words that you can’t hear.

The other day I wasn’t even near the mall, I was in a room full of people when a duo in heavy conversation was noticeable. One was listening and the other was convincing. I mean CONVINCING! If the one who was listening was smart I suppose they made a decision to agree with what the other one was saying.

The image of these two faded in the background as I recalled  Proverbs 12:25. “There is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death.” Looking back at the duo again, I imagined myself in the place of the one who was  convincing  and realized how pride blinds my eyes when I think that I’m right about something.

Now, death doesn’t always mean literal although it could. It means that the CONVINCING one will soon be dining on  humble pie and their resounding opinion will die.

Be careful, know that what seems right could be wrong.. and if it is, it leads to death! Choose life, seek understanding before you seek to be understood.

The Fruit of Obedience is Joy

Mar7

I turned 50 this week. Although this is a significant birthday week for me, my friend  who turned 50 a few months ago abruptly passed away a few days ago.  He was so young and probably the happiest man I know. We are going to celebrate his life and remember him on Saturday. I suppose someone will say a few words that will stick in my mind to help me remember what an amazing life he had. There is already a memory fixated in my heart of a barefooted man running around the office in a pair of faded jeans and t-shirt giving fist pumps. He was a trumpet player with a heart to serve God with his financial talent and sense.

raising the cross
If you don’t already know who Chuck is; let me tell you that he was the (CFO) of our church and had a GREAT heart for people. He is so unique in every way. Chuck owned the honor and responsibility for building a new church building which took three years to complete. Afterwards, he was supposed to take a three-month sabbatical to rest.
As Chuck prepared for his sabbatical he was approached by many who congratulated him and thanked hChuck Hiattim for his service to God to build such a building. He had time to take a couple’s retreat with his wife and experienced one of the most gracious times they’d ever had. He was in Israel to hear his mother deliver an honored speech. Chuck was filled with joy. I suspect that it was because he answered God’s calling on his life at every intersection of his 50 years.
For the last three years he spent his time building a stage so God could be glorified, worshipped and praised. He reluctantly accepted the accolades of his work knowing that it had one purpose which was not for him.
I will always remember my last conversation with Chuck.  I was asking for Chuck to approve the design of the baptism changing room in our new church. In previous conversations  he was very detailed and sent me back to the drawing board to do better. On that last day before his sabbatical he just let go. He closed the folder, handed it back to me and differed the decisions to another Pastor, with confidence he said, “I’m sure whatever is decided will be fine.” With a smile he said,  ‘It will be okay”.

Chuck left for Israel a few days later and while visiting the Western Wailing Wall  in Israel, he died of cardiac arrest brought on by a respiratory condition. The Lord must have been happy to receive this humble man into heaven. I turned 50 this week and am inspired to make a decision to serve Jesus at every intersection in my life just as Chuck did with his. I pray that God will help me as he loves obedience more than my sacrifice.
Rest in peace my dear friend Chuck Hiatt and thank you for inspiring me to live a more purposed life for the rest of my days. Shalom

Why Write?

Mar7

Hurry and grab a pencil and piece of paper! It’s 4:30am and I can hear a muse of words dancing in my head. I have an appointment with the Lord to write. Words are flowing fast, like a river gurgling and I MUST jump in to ride the current so I can breathe in the misty waters with Joy. I suppose if I were a singer I would be able to hear musical notes dancing around in my head, convincing me to open my mouth and sing. When you are a writer these notes make their way out through your fingers and you can hear the same dancing rhythmic symphony. I laugh with fulfilled joy as I have finally realized that my longing to sing and sing well is illusive, but that my heart sings with wings when I’m writing. Image

God has said much over the last six months and his beautiful waves of guidance remained in my heart. There was nothing earth shattering that wasn’t shared with you even so,  I’m sorry that even a morsel was wasted. He never stopped tapping on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, prompting me, urging me to get up at 4:30am for our appointment to write! This stirring usually comes when I’m reaching for the cold side of the pillow and the words just start rolling out, leaking out of my ears and mind…Then I must get up and turn on the recorder to capture every last drop.  It’s much like deciding to get up and write down an amazing dream.  I wonder if people who have beautiful voices can hear angels signing at 4am.

The calling couldn’t be clearer. I am to write what He says, period. He says abide. Be bold! Do it to glorify your Lord. He says that a Christian has ears to hear and is an over comer. Good morning!

My Dear Friend… about your relationship.

Feb27

My Dear Friend,

About your relationship… we’ve been friends long enough now for me to remind you that when God shows you His perfect man for you, then you will both know it. I smile when I say that because we have had this conversation before. 🙂 My heart broke when I heard your news. You can be confident that you have my prayers on this matter. As I pondered this through-out the day I kept coming back to the same thing which is; I hate that life is so hard! It is so hard that sometimes the people in our lives get thrashed right along with whatever we are going through.

I just kept thinking how hard things are in general for you lately with everything you’ve been dealing with. That would surely put a strain on any relationship. That’s no secret, right? Crisis is stressful on relationships. How do you get through it? How do you get on the other side and keep your relationship in tact? If you’re ready I’ll give you a few tips on what has worked for me in the past.

First of all, a man is not equipped to handle our emotions. I know, but it’s true. He is not your girlfriend! They are hardwired to fix things. When they cannot fix your problem and comfort you then they feel like they failed and can’t make you happy. Stupid, right? It’s true. You don’t have to hide or shelter them from what you are feeling, but keeping the “process” of it all to a minimum is helpful. You know how we hate it when they objectify us? That’s how much they hate to deal with our emotions!

I think there is nothing that attracts a man more then to know we are in love in Jesus. There is a mystery behind the way we give our hearts to God. They know that when we approach the Throne Room, they are only observers. It’s intriguing for them to watch the way God makes our hearts soft. That’s what they want! They want us to have a soft heart for them. How precious is that?

With all of that said, here is the confusing part. How much can we really rely on our men and more importantly how much is too much? How much is too little? Our guys want to comfort us and fix the things that hurt us, but they can’t cope with all those God given emotions that we have. It’s kind of a practical joke in a way! Let him know what a great job he is doing in supporting your efforts and encourage him (in your time of need). Find a girlfriend to process all of those hairy details that he just can’t bear. Ask God to help you grow and mature because Jesus is the only one who can truly FIX the problem.

Because I know that your relationship with Jesus is unmovable and you love Him with all your heart and soul. I know for sure that no matter the outcome, it will be the right outcome. Much Love,

Sheri

It’s a Do Over!

Oct13

I  originally started to write on another blog http://thelordsdwellingplace.blogspot.com/  a couple of years ago,  because I felt ” called”. Then, lo and behold within a month I found out that I had breast cancer. pink-ribbon

I continued to write-through the entire cancer process, from finding out about the cancer at a screening to a bilateral mastectomy and recovery from chemotherapy…  I  received an amazing amount of encouragement  from friends and strangers who asked me to continue writing. I was finally convinced to keep going when I stumbled on a back screen on my old  blog one day and found that thousands of people from all over the world had taken the cancer journey with me, through my writing!

SheSpeaksGradButton250Eventually, I found myself at a writer’s conference called She Speaks in North Carolina. I soon realized that writing has a lot more to do with “marketability” then any of us realized! There is a need to have a “Platform” before a publishing company will consider someone as a serious author. You can write and it can be great. However, you need to help sell books and magazine articles or publishers will find a different writer who can. Making a move to WordPress  gives credence to a writer. I’m not sure why or how just yet, but it does. So, here I am! New and improved blog? New and improved message? New and improved messy life? New and improved… fill in the blank here__________.

So, on this blog I most likely will not have exciting news about cancer. Let’s hope I don’t have any news at all about that topic. I will blog about my imperfection, transformation and try my hardest to share Jesus with you from the events in my everyday life. To start with, I will  share one very important conclusion about cancer with you and then we can be done with it. I am glad for the gift of cancer. I am GLAD! I thank God often for allowing me the opportunity to really consider what is important in life. How many days do I really have and how can I best use them… what purpose can I make out of them?

Upon this consideration, many things had to change. I had to change the way I responded to offense. I had to change what I pursued and why I pursued it. I changed my mind about the things I thought I needed to control and how I deal with disappointment. I changed the way I eat and take care of myself.  I giggle when thinking  about how different everything is from my new short dark hair to the inner crevices of my heart and I am so grateful! I stood at the door of mortality and was forced to knock on it to see if it would open. It stayed closed. Whew!

It’s a Do Over! A Second Chance and I say that with a smile! Come with me and explore life!

Yes Lord, I will

Nov21

Monday, November 21, 2011

Yes Lord, I will follow you in every area, absolutely I will…. except one. There is  one area where I’ve decide that I am not enough, not talented enough, not skilled enough and not competent … that’s where and when  I don’t want to follow you. You have asked me to write.. and I have said not now, not tomorrow, maybe never! I would love to write, but I really don’t think anyone will want to read what I have to say. This one thing is different. Please ask something else from me. Ask me to go to Africa and I will! Ask me to give away everything that I have and I will. Please just ask… ask me what I think I’m good at, what I think I can do and I’ll do that for you. If I could sing for others to hear, I would. Wouldn’t that talent at least be obvious? But to write, seriously? I can’t spell! My grammar is terrible and I failed high school English! They are just letters and words on a page. I really don’t think people would have any reason to read about my experiences. The yearning to write seems self-indulgent. An indulgence that bounces around inside of me and takes clippings from every lesson, every perspective and every circumstance. Boy, what I would say if someone would listen! But God, you are asking me to be transparent, to be vulnerable and expose all my weaknesses. Lord, I really don’t believe that anyone wants to listen… so it seems meaningless… to just write.
But now, my plans, my ideas and schemes have all failed. I have pursued the wealth of the world to find my security and found worry instead. I have pursued people who have failed me when they turned out to be simply human. I have pursued being the best mother, wife, daughter I could be for recognition and accolades from my peers; I discovered that they were here today and gone tomorrow. All the passions and dreams I held did not come to true. So my thoughts; Why not just do what you asked, Lord. I’ll Just Write.