thischicksinpeace

Living With the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 3~The Choice

March 17, 2025June 27, 2025 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

The wilderness themes in the Bible seem to call out to me lately, especially those where people have been “led” or “sent”.

The story of Hagar stands out in many ways.

It is in Genesis 16 where we first meet her: she becomes an unwilling participant in the plan for Sarai and Abram to fulfill for themselves the destiny God had prophesied to them about: that their descendants would outnumber the sand on the seashore. This is a tricky thing when they did not have even one piece of sand to call their own, let alone numbers to fill a beach front.

Hagar did not have a say whether she wanted to play a role in their meddling. She had no choice as she was a voiceless female servant.

She became pregnant with Abram’s first born child, but ran away due to the toxic relationship that had formed thanks to this “love” triangle that never should have been. It was there in the wilderness that she was approached by God with words of comfort and where she named Him: El Roi – The God Who Sees Me.

Later, after Isaac had been born to Sarah and Abraham when Hagar’s son Ishmael was 14 years old, Sarah decided she wanted Hagar and Ishmael to leave their homestead forever.

Early the next morning Abraham took some food and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. He set them on her shoulders and then sent her off with the boy. She went on her way and wandered in the Desert of Beersheba.

Genesis 21:14

Once again in the wilderness, God approached this woman whose life was not of her own choosing. He tells her not to be afraid, He comforts her and tells her to give comfort to her child, and He refreshes her with water from a well she had not previously seen.

This past fall I was invited to attend a retreat for women pastors. The invitation to attend came within moments of my response to the Lord calling me to NOURISH my relationship with Him.

The definition of the word “nourish” is to be provided with the food or other substances necessary for growth, health, and good condition.

After a long season of grief I found myself lacking what was necessary for any of those things. What I felt instead was stagnant… unfocused…anxious…unmotivated…

I felt all this physically but realized it was stemming from inside my emotional self and had carried over into my spiritual self.

Choosing to spend time alone with the Lord revealed the need for spiritual nourishment. That was when the email came inviting me to a “retreat.” Talk about divine timing!

The theme -shockingly enough- was “KNOWN” and the emphasis was on God the El Roi: the One Who Sees Me.

At this retreat, I had a personal encounter with El Roi and had the confirmation placed on my heart by Him that I am loved by Him. Fiercely loved. The healing that came through that revelation provided what I had been malnourished of: what is necessary for growth, health, and good condition.

A reset button had been pushed and I was being restored.

I came home from that retreat more at peace with myself than I knew I had needed to be. I felt focused and driven to again pursue the desires that the Lord had put on my heart when He called me to be a pastor: one who shares the Good News.

So imagine the irony I feel now.

I am called to preach the Gospel. I WANT to preach it. I have opportunities to be able to do so once again. I have the time. Life seems to be falling into place.

Except.

I have cancer.

The first time I went into the wilderness where I felt malnourished, I think was kind of similar to Hagar; it was my choice to go due to the circumstances. I may not have known consciously that was what I was doing in my grief but it was in the wilderness where I ended up just the same.

And God saw me there. El Roi. I am loved.

And now? I feel like a bag has been put on my back and I am being sent from the comfort I have known, the plans I had made. I am to go somewhere unknown, uncertain, uncomfortable, scary.

And yet I am still seen. I am still loved.

The diagnosis has been confirmed: Stage 1 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. The appointment has been set up with the team of physicians that will help me with the necessary decisions that need to be made for treatment.

We tell my parents what is going on.

We tell our children what is going on.

We tell my brother what is going on.

We tell our closest friends what is going on.

We try to breathe.

It isn’t easy to tell those you love that you have breast cancer. But do you know what makes it worse? Once they know, life goes on. People go back to work or to school. Meals need to be made. Other people we love are going through really really excruciatingly hard things at the exact same time as this and beautiful babies are being born as well.

So here I am walking around with cancer inside of me and if I did not tell you, you would never even know. It’s not like I look any different.

But everything feels different.

I cannot express how surreal that feels. How ominous.

One minute I’m pulling laundry out of the dryer and the next moment it is like I have been punched in the gut with the thought, “Oh my gosh I have cancer” sweeping over me.

Telling people makes it more real.

But I do not want it to be real.

The “big” doctor appointment introduces us to a radiation oncologist, a breast surgeon, and a medical oncologist. They all assess me individually and look over my biopsy report. Later, they meet together with the pathologist who confirms my diagnostic findings. We meet with the breast surgeon a second time for the conclusion of our day.

I am supposed to make a decision at this point regarding the treatment that I want to have based on the options presented to me. I had no idea there would be OPTIONS.

Supposedly, we make around 35,000 conscious decisions in one day: what we will eat, wear, say, etc…

35,000.

I was given about 5-6 options to choose between at the conclusion of this appointment. It felt like 4-5 too many.

I must say this though: I am incredibly grateful for the women who have gone before me that had to FIGHT for the right to even have these choices.

It is hard to believe there was a time where a woman did not have the voice or the choice to say what happened to her body once breast cancer was detected.

I have to live with this body for the rest of my life so I am thankful to be able to have a say in HOW IT LOOKS WHEN ALL THIS IS OVER.

Lumpectomy with radiation
Single mastectomy and no radiation
Single mastectomy with or without augmentation
Single mastectomy with augmentation to the unaffected breast as well as one with cancer
Double mastectomy and no radiation with or without augmentation

As of now it does not appear that I will need chemotherapy because no lymph nodes are affected.

I sat there staring at the surgeon who was looking at me with an extreme amount of kindness on her face…as she waited for my response.

I could not breathe. I could not think. I could not choose.

I began to cry and said, “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know.”

She gave me the opportunity to think on it and made an appointment with a plastic surgeon for me as well as scheduled an MRI to look more into what was happening in my breasts. She said, “the MRI will help you to know what to do. It’s ok that you don’t right now; we have time.”

When you have been told you have cancer, I can honestly say this, TIME is one thing you no longer feel you have.

At the conclusion of this appointment, our support system was hoping for a “plan” to have been made and now I have to tell them we are still trying to determine what is the best thing to do for me.

I feel an incredible amount of pressure to make a decision. To make the RIGHT decision. To make it soon.

But what is “right” for ME?

If you’re new to my blog, you may be unfamiliar with my other “invisible” illness: I have Crohn’s disease. It is an autoimmune disease that affects my GI tract as well as the rest of me systemically. I am on medication that suppresses my immune system in order to keep my autoimmune system from going into overdrive. When my medication is not at its appropriate blood level, the fatigue I feel is unbearable and irritable bowel symptoms arise.

Frankly, Crohn’s is the banner to which I would like to march under as it is the dragon I have come to know and NOT Breast Cancer… but, alas~ I guess I have to carry two banners now.

Here’s the thing: I WILL recover from breast cancer, but I will always LIVE with Crohn’s Disease. Whatever I do with this cancer is going to affect my autoimmune system…and I cannot get that thought out of my head no matter how hard I try.

I am a woman with Crohn’s disease that will have to endure whatever choice of treatment I decide on.

Can my immunosuppressed body fight left over or new cancer cells if I do not choose a mastectomy or do not choose radiation?

As I was told by a trusted source, I am not in the statistics for the efficacy of treatment for breast cancer. I am not one they included in the tests and trials. I am in the “unknown” category of how I will respond and what role my Crohn’s medication may have had on this or could have on this in the future.

I am a Crohn’s patient that now has breast cancer and that cannot be ignored or forgotten or push aside or minimized.

I have TWO active diseases now.

Now enter in my “people pleasing” problem.

This one really ticks me off!

I cannot believe how much I worry about what other people think… I worry so much about judgment that I found it difficult to make a choice for MYSELF and MY body without fear of “doing it wrong.”

Wrong for who??

A bilateral mastectomy is considered “radical.” Did you know that? The thing is it means it is a radical surgical procedure that involves the removal of the entire breast, including the nipple, areola, skin, and underlying chest muscles and it is performed to treat breast cancer.

Yet, the word “radical” (especially in view of this context) is more defined as “very different from the usual or traditional; extreme.”

A bilateral mastectomy seems radical to some when they hear “Stage 1 cancer”. That it is an extreme treatment. That is is different from the usual.

The fear of judgement from others was IMPACTING my own judgment.

I could not hear myself think because all I could hear was “that seems extreme” if I waivered in the direction where I seemed to want to go.

“It’s a big surgery.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“You would do that? Do you HAVE to?”

Do you know how many people have told me “all they needed” was a lumpectomy and radiation and they were “fine”?

Too many to count.

But were they my age at diagnosis?

Did they have an aunt with 3 separate occurrences of breast cancer?

Do they get treated for an autoimmune disease?

We are given a CHOICE and that choice is there for a reason. The reason is because this is my body and my life. It is not my husband’s. It is not my children’s. It is not my parents. It is not those that care for me. It is mine.

I have to choose.

I have to stand at the end of it all to say, “I made the best decision I could make and I could have done nothing else. I have no regrets.”

I prayed for clarity.

I asked others to pray for me to have a clear mind to make a decision.

Praise the Lord, God put people directly into my path that spoke honest words of wisdom to me in those next few days.

Dan went out of town for business so I went to the plastic surgeon appointment alone. That doctor sat down in front of me and simply asked, “do you know what you want to do?”

I said, “a bilateral mastectomy please.”

I made my choice.

Living With the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 2 ~ The_Diagnosis

March 10, 2025June 27, 2025 thischicksinpeace1 Comment

In John 21:18 Jesus is talking with His disciple Peter telling him that “others will dress you and take you where you don’t want to go.”

I remember when my youngest was little we had to take him to the doctor. He was scared of the doctor and always had been. For years, prior to going, he would repeatedly ask if he was going to get a “shot” that day. We would never lied to him to try to ease his anxiety out of a fear that doing so would backfire on us so, instead, we would say, as honestly as we could, “I don’t know buddy; you might have to have one this time.”

It was hard having to take him somewhere that he did not want to go; where he was scared to go.

In his sweet childhood, he was quite shy and nervous around new people, places, and unknown experiences. In fact, it was often the fear of the unknown that made him most anxious. He seemed to think ahead wondering or worrying who would be there, what it would look like or feel like.

I often think that he and I share the same brain as that is so similar to how I process things.

There was one particular time at the doctor that was the worst; I think he had a rash or something that needed to be assessed for treatment. As we approached the front door of the office, he hard-stopped walking. Completely stopped and dug his heels into the cement.

Can you envision trying to pull a young elementary age child to go forward? Can you see him with legs locked, heels firmly placed into the cement ground, head down, back arched, with arms stretched forward because his dad and I are trying to coerce him into movement?

He was terrified for some reason and we could not move him an inch no matter that we were reassuring him that we would not leave him; that we would ensure he would be alright because we would be right there with him the whole time.

Crying hard, he conceded and into the office we went.

I remember another time, I do not recall WHY he would have said this, but he asked me about “the oxygen mask that would smell like bubble gum” and if he would have it too.

He was 4 years old when his older brother required a rather major surgery to repair ligaments that were deformed due to being born with a club foot malformity. We took our youngest (maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but we wanted him to feel involved with what was happening with his brother as he seemed rather intuitive and introspective about things instead of being “clueless”) with us to the pre-anesthesia appointment where they showed both boys the oxygen mask smelling of bubble gum that our oldest would see again on his surgery day.

That experience had been years prior to when his inquiring mind paired that event of his brother together with whatever doctor office experience he was about to have: and it brought him anxiety and fear because that was what was known to him.

How often does that happen to us? We allow fear and anxiety (do we really allow it??? I don’t always feel I have the choice when it shows up…) to take over all rational thought because of a previous experience when we are suddenly faced with something new and unknown.

In 2021, my best friend of 20 years forever finished her battle with Colon Cancer.

We were months apart in age. We were both nurses for about the same amount of years and worked in very similar fields. Our mothers and mother in laws were similar in temperament. We were married almost the same amount of years and both married to a “Dan”! We had children the same age. We laughed about the same things. We both analyzed every thought and action said or done by those around us. We both believed that life mattered and what we did with our lives made a difference in this world around us.

Her experience with cancer is the experience that I recall now.

I remember the day she called me to tell me of her diagnosis in 2016. She told me that her husband was not with her for that infamous scheduled colonoscopy because she did not think it was going to be a big deal. I thought it was interesting that she had prearranged for a friend to take her home when it was over so he would not have to take the day off of work.

She had to call him on the phone to tell him a cancerous mass had been found in her colon.

What I do not remember is how that felt to her to make that phone call. I’d asked her so many things about her life and her cancer… but not about that. I did not ask her how she told her children and how that felt… before, during, and after.

At the time, those seemed to be silly questions. I figured I knew the answer: horrible. “It felt horrible, Am.” Of course, Al, of course it felt horrible- I can’t even imagine.

Now I can.

Oh Ali, it is the worst thing ever. I wish I would have asked you about that. How did you do it?? What were your thoughts?? Did you pray first or were you so shell-shocked you felt numb? Were you worried about Dan? Were you broken hearted because you knew you were about to change their worlds and break their hearts?

We aren’t supposed to hurt our children. Ever. Discipline, yes. Hurt? NO. My life as a mother has been one of protection. Of support. Of encouragement.

Have we had hardship that we had to face with them? YES. But we were always shielding them and making a path before them all the way.

Not this time.

And now we have a precious girl brought into our lives…one whose own momma had only recently passed from breast cancer before her battle with it could ever really start.

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Oh Ali, I miss you. I cannot even describe in words how I wish I could talk to you about how to do this with my kids.

But first… I have to tell Dan.

On February 4 I was in Muskegon sitting by Lake Michigan while my husband was working in Atlanta. I had texted him to ask him to carve some time out to be alone and undistracted so we could talk before I had my luncheon meeting.

It was beautiful by Lake Michigan. The air was crisp and the sky was even a little blue that day with the sun trying to peek out from behind the puffy clouds. There was not a lot of snow but the ground was frozen.

Have you ever walked on frozen sand? I highly recommend doing it.

As I sat on the bluff overlooking the beach and lake, I could see the open water of Lake Michigan crashing into the ice shelf that had formed up to the shoreline.

It was beautiful…quiet…peaceful.

Matthew 6:26

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

The old hymn His Eye Is On the Sparrow kept echoing through my head:

“Why should I feel discouraged? Why should the shadows come? Why should my heart be lonely and long for heav’n and home when Jesus is my portion? My constant Friend is He; His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me” (Civilla D. Martin 1905).

Dan calls while I sit in the serenity of that moment. I am able to calmly explain to him that I had felt a lump in my breast the evening before which caused me to remember I had been told upon scheduling that this upcoming 2nd mammogram was NOT because of breast density. I confessed that I had suddenly recalled it was to directly screen my left breast only.

I calmly told him the verse from Isaiah 43:1-3 that had been revealed to me by the Lord the previous night~

Do not be afraid…When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God…your Savior.

We both cried.

Atlanta felt very far away in that moment and he would not be home until later that week which would be the day after the 2nd mammogram.

We encouraged each other with hope that I could very well be wrong in my prediction…although we both knew I was right. We decided together to keep these thoughts and concerns to ourselves until we knew with certainty what was going on.

When we saw how deeply the possibility of having cancer was affecting us, we did not wish to put these worries onto anyone else until we had to.

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

I apologized to Dan for hurting him. I know in our vows it says, “in good times and in bad, sickness and in health”… and we’ve been through so much of that already and now… there is even more hurt to come. My physical body is hurting him and I cannot stop it from happening. I hate it.

The rest of the day and week somehow manages to pass and Thursday has finally arrived.

The check in for this 3D Mammogram is the same as before… put clothes into a locker, put the white gown on that opens to the front, and step into the exam room. When I walked in my previous mammogram image was up on the computer screen for the technician to know what she was looking specifically for in this current one.

In all irony, my job as an RN has given me some experience at looking at x-ray’s and ultrasounds. I have seen what “normal” looks like, how cysts look different from a solid mass, and what lymph nodes are visually. As I look at the screen, I can see as plain as day the dark “paint splatter” that rests inside my left breast.

I state aloud, “well, there it is I guess.”

The technician asked me if I had palpated anything on my breast before so I, as I began to cry, pointed to a specific area. THE specific area. She marks it with a pen so she can tell on the imaging if this is the same “spot”.

“X” now marks the spot.

The mammogram is completed quickly and I am escorted to a waiting room while the radiologist looks at my films to determine if a “next step” is required. In my heart I KNOW one is. The certainty of what is happening is heavy on me.

She comes back and confirms that an official ultrasound is now necessary. I must wait for a technician to be available for me to have one so I text Dan to tell him what is happening. He is still in Atlanta sitting on pins and needles of helplessness.

In not too long of time, a young woman asks me to follow her to the next exam room. I laid down on a table to, once again, expose myself to a stranger. Trust me, that particular aspect of exposure does not get any easier within this process.

She begins the ultrasound and I can very easily see what she is doing… what she is measuring… what she is labeling. I tell her that I am an RN who assists with Ultrasound Guided Fine Needle Aspirations and Biopsies and that although I know she cannot technically tell me anything, I can clearly see something IS there.

Her non-verbal communication and eye contact confirms my suspicions.

She tells me that a radiologist is going to come into the room next to talk with me. I laid there alone in the silence of the room for a few moments with my heart beginning to pound faster.

He comes in with her and sits down. I don’t think that is ever a good thing to have happen.

I ask him if I should call my husband to put him on speaker phone to be a part of whatever is about to be said to me and he tells me to wait because he would like to do another ultrasound with the technician before speaking his mind to my husband. I’m encouraged to text him to be ready for a phone call.

The second ultrasound is completed as I watch the screen with them.

The doctor comes back to his chair to have me call Dan. With Dan on the phone, he begins to say words like “biopsy needed”, “we need to see what these suspicious spots are”, and potential “treatment plan” ideas.

Both the doctor and technician are extremely apologetic for having me wait until the next day to get a biopsy done; both wishing they could fit me into today’s schedule. But, it is scheduled for Friday and they leave the room with Dan still on the phone.

What else is there to say to each other at this point?

I love you. It’s going to be alright. I wish I was there. I wish you were here. I’ll see you tomorrow when it is done.

Oh Ali, how did you do this??

I’m supposed to work the next day when the biopsy has been scheduled so I decide it is time to rally my co-workers around me while I see how I can adjust my work-day to accommodate this new “crisis”.

I walk over to Endoscopy and find my support co-worker and ask her to quickly get the other one I lean on. She immediately can tell I’m starting to get visibly upset as the shaking inside of me started to escape my weakening control over it.

In the “privacy” of a storage room it explodes out of me to verbalize what is happening. As I do the panic within surges over top of me.

My friends quickly surround me and offer the comfort only a nurse can give; optimistic yet realistic at the same time. They arrange my schedule and assignment for the next day before sending me home after lots of hugs.

Home.

Dan is not there for safety.

I am alone with a secret I must continue to keep for just a little while longer.

My insides are churning. The acid in my stomach is boiling. The ache in my head is pounding.

I push it down and focus on other people’s needs to get through the evening.

Friday morning I wake up and head to work as if it were just any other day. My co-workers now know so I have a sense of security to feel my feelings of anxiety as I attempt to function in my assignment for the morning until my biopsy at 11 am.

Dan is due to fly home around that same time.

I was put into yet another exam room where the ultrasound technician was going to assist the radiologist with this ultrasound guided biopsy. He walks in and says, very honestly, that these are “concerning” spots but could still be scar tissue so don’t lose hope.

I do not tell him that I have been prepared by the Lord that I WILL be going through this fire…I have a certainty about it.

I watch the biopsy as it is happening: the nurse in me is too curious to not pay attention. I see the needle go directly into the “paint splatter” as well into a 2nd area they wanted to test.

It is over quickly and I am informed that the result, because it is a weekend, will not probably be available until the upcoming Tuesday. As a healthcare professional, I assure them that I am aware of that reality.

They tell me a “nurse navigator” will be calling me as soon as the results are available to speak to me about more “next steps.”

I get dressed to leave for home and wait for my first hug with Dan.

I’ll leave that moment private to myself.

We now have a weekend to endure in silence so plans go into motion of how to fill time without it appearing that is what we are doing. It is interesting how one can compartmentalize something in order to function, don’t you think? We even choose to talk to our son stationed in Washington while serving in the Navy-like nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

We had not talked with him in a little while and I did not want the first time we reconnected on the phone to be because I needed to tell him something BIG. I wanted to talk to him just to talk to him and have him talk to us casually for the same reason.

I quickly ended the call though, because all of the sudden I envisioned what we needed to soon tell him and I became overcome with emotion over the mere thought of it.

My love for my son is unmeasurable. The distance between us in mileage feels like too many. The time constraint on travel for a leave is too narrow when someone is in the Navy. A hug of reassurance is a long way off and my arms are aching for him.

On Sunday I determined to start praying that those results would be available on Monday instead of Tuesday. The waiting was HARD. The silence of secrecy was HEAVY. I told the Lord that I did not want to be at work when that “call” came through.

I busied myself on Monday with odd errands. We have a shopping center in Lansing called “Frandor.” I found myself wandering around there until just choosing to sit in my car in its parking lot.

Praise the Lord! My Chart app suddenly alerted me that there was a “new result.”

I called Dan and said that the result was in: would he like me to open it so we could read it together? Was he in a place at work where he could listen and respond as he may need to?

He made himself ready and I opened the app.

Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.

What is that, we both wondered?

A quick Google search gave me the confirmation I knew in my heart to be true: cancer.

Oh my God, my God… I have breast cancer.

Lord, help me… I have breast cancer.

Oh Ali, I KNEW it. How can it be that I can’t talk to you about this??? How can you tell us the way to tell our children???

WHAT DO WE DO NOW became the next thought. We HAVE to be together and home was not an option just yet as our precious girl was there: we were NOT ready to tell her or anyone else just yet. We needed to think. We also knew that the nurse navigator was supposed to be calling soon so we chose to do what a normal American would do: we decided to meet at Costco.

As I drove there a wave of numbness came over me in place of the panic that had been held at bay for the weekend. Pulling into the parking lot, a call came in from the hospital. Answering it, I was introduced to this “navigator.”

In a matter of minutes, Dan arrived and climbed into my car as she talked to us about what those results meant and what we can expect to happen in the next few days to weeks. A doctor’s appointment was made with a “team” of specialists to help us determine our staging and what the best course of action will be for me for a week from Thursday.

She says terms like “single mastectomy”, “double mastectomy”, “lumpectomy with radiation.”

We get off the phone with her and sit there quietly together in the parking lot of Costco. The world is bustling around us while ours feels to have slipped off its axis.

I’m deep breathing with my heart pounding.

I say, “this is really happening.”

We hold onto each other as we cry.

It’s time to let our world know.

Others will dress you and take you where you don’t want to go.

We are being led where we do not want to go.

Living With the Wind Knocked Out of Me: Part 1

March 8, 2025June 27, 2025 thischicksinpeace1 Comment

Isaiah 58:11 NLT

“The Lord will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength.”

Abraham found himself being led away from his home to a land he did not know.

The Hebrews were led to Egypt where they were eventually enslaved.

The Hebrew nation was then led to the Red Sea where they feared impending death until God miraculously parted the waters for them.

They were then led to Mount Sinai where they would personally encounter the living God. But they were terrified when in His presence and became disobedient: choosing a golden calf to worship that they could control instead of the omniscient, omnipresent Holy God.

They were next led to the wilderness where they would “wander” for 40 years in order to learn to trust and depend on the Lord before being allowed to enter the land promised to them.

Elijah was led into the wilderness after publicly declaring a three-year drought in front of the evil King Ahab and, his even more evil queen, Jezebel. He was told by God to stay by a temporary brook in Cherith. Cherith means “a cutting away”: here, Elijah was “cut off” from all things self-sufficient in order to be prepared for further use by God. Here he learned absolute dependency on God.

After being baptized, Jesus was led to the wilderness where He fasted for 40 days and then was tempted by Satan.

Everything in Jesus’s ministry LED Him to the cross.

We, too, are often led places we did not plan to go. We are often trucking along through life when something happens that turns us off the planned path. Sometimes it is a quick detour that provides an opportunity to see or experience things we never would have if that event had not happened and, for that, we are grateful. We might even say “this way is MUCH better.”

Sometimes it is a longer detour that makes us late for our destination. It is an inconvenience without entertainment. We aren’t pleased, but we still get to where we had been going. This detour could be because of something or someone else on the road or maybe we made a mistake and missed our exit. Natural consequences are real after all. We may veer off our path but can make it to the destination anyway.

Sometimes, something happens and we end up going in a different direction toward a place we did not plan on going at all. Many times we do not like this: THIS was not the plan after all. We can reject the new plan and fight like h*&^ to get back on track to where WE want to be or we can settle in and accept this new place to make it home.

And sometimes, something happens that simply hard stops us and we have no idea which way we will end up facing when it is all done. It’s scary and overwhelming. It’s not always without a sense of hope; that where we end up might not be bad…but we do know it will be different.

It can happen in a blink of an eye with one phone call: you have breast cancer.

Proverbs16:9

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”

On January 17th I had a routine mammogram scheduled. I was “late” in having it by about 3-6 months from my previous (and normal) one. I have a physical annually where a breast exam is routinely done which had been the previous March- again, normal.

As the Lord saw fit, He brought a young woman into our lives, home, and hearts a year prior. Her mother had passed away from a very late diagnosis and fully developed metastatic breast cancer. She moved in with us after her passing.

As the anniversary date of her death approached, I felt convicted to quit dragging my feet and go get that darn mammogram. I felt it would dishonor her if I did not go get it done.

So there I am in my “glory”; feeling good about doing the right thing.

A few days later, I get a phone call where I was told I needed a second mammogram; a 3-D one. Let me just say, in that moment, that was all I heard them say. The last mammogram I had required a second one as well, so to have this happen again simply annoyed me and I tuned out to whatever else was said and rescheduled it.

Yes, a paper even came in the mail to say what the original mammogram showed and my Primary Care office even called me to make sure I was doing a follow up. I still paid no attention to the details and went on with my life without telling anyone else of this “annoyance” but my husband.

My 3-D mammogram was scheduled for February 6. On February 3, I went to a hotel near Lake Michigan in order to spend some much needed time alone with the Lord before having a lunch date the next day with a friend who lived in that area.

My time away with Jesus is something I am trying to schedule in every few months in order to nourish my relationship with Him and to be nourished by Him so I can effectively do the compassionate ministries I am involved in: one cannot pour from an empty cup and my cup had been getting less full thanks to life challenges.

My husband is used to my “time away” needs and is fully supportive of my role in ministry so off I went while he was in Atlanta for his job.

Usually, when I’ve had a personal spiritual retreat like this I have some kind of a plan: what to read or focus on. This time seemed different. I packed differently bringing multiple journals with me as well as my Bible and devotionals. The journals (especially multiple) were not my “norm”.

My dearest sister friend gave birth to her precious 4th baby boy the night before after having a rather stressful last few weeks of her pregnancy. He came a little earlier than her others had and our stress leading up to his arrival had been significant. With her other boys, “my darling boys” I call them, I conveniently was working when they were born and could quick visit her/them rather soon upon their entry into this world outside of her womb. This sweet one, however, was different. I wanted to see him badly but I knew in my heart that I needed to wait on visiting and get going to be on time with my date with Jesus.

That is a significant detail.

It had become a “pride thing” to be able to say I was one of the “first to meet her sons” and here I was choosing to not do that and would accept that I would instead see him in a few days.

I KNEW I needed to get going, but I was not sure why I had that urgency.

I got to the hotel, figured out a dinner plan, and turned on some music. Again, my “normal” would be worship music, but for whatever reason music without lyrics was what I craved: an instrumental hymns station was chosen.

I began to read through journals to see what I had written, where the Lord had carried me from or through as I was distracted by a significant need in the life of my other best friend. I was definitely seeking peace as I tried to intercede for her and her sweet family.

In my reading and praying one particular passage stood out to me like a beacon.

Isaiah 43: 1-3

“But now this is what the Lord says- he who created you, Jacob, he who formed you, Israel; “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name and you are mind. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your savior.”

Well.

What on earth was that about?

I wrote it down in a few places and pondered over it. I saw it in correlation of what had been and was happening in my friends lives. I claimed it on their behalf with thankfulness.

And yet.

I suspected there was more to it than that.

I am a caregiver. I am a person who ministers to others first and hardly looks after myself. In fact, my new discipline of scheduled “time away” with the Lord is in response to my poor self care. It is easier for me to take care of others than to do more than the surface things in care for myself.

Let’s be honest: how often do YOU pray for yourself or ask others to pray for you when there is not a crisis? We often see the need in others as superior to our own, don’t we?

The truth of our faith is this: Jesus died for ME too. Jesus died for YOU too. He did not just call others His beloved; He called ME His beloved. He loves YOU as much as He loves the hurting person in your life that has a situation breaking your heart. He loves me that much too.

But we do not often live that way.

It is easier to encourage someone else than to be encouraged myself.

Here I am in the hotel room…feeling a strange peace with zero resolution or revelation. I confessed to the Lord that I was sorry I accept MORE from Him than Him. That I desire His gifts and not that He is the Gifter.

I opt to take a bath (another out of the normal thing for me to do).

As I was preparing the water, I stood in front the mirror. You know how those hotel mirrors can be: UNFORGIVING.

Enter in the self-loathing.

As I stood there, for whatever reason, I touched the top part of my left breast (not my right). I felt the lump in that moment.

Suddenly, the memory of what the technician had told me on the phone when we rescheduled my mammogram rushed to the front of my mind: we need to reevaluate the LEFT breast. I could see the paper with the initial mammogram result that had been mailed to me in my mind: a “mass” in the left breast.

I looked into the mirror and made eye contact with myself.

That Scripture came back to me~

DO NOT FEAR

WHEN you pass through the waters

WHEN you pass through the rivers

WHEN you walk through the fire

This was not an IF situation. This was a WHEN. And the WHEN was NOW. And the “you” was ME.

As I stared into the mirror at my reflection, I said to the Lord, “This is really going to happen isn’t it? I’m going to have cancer.”

What a strange reality to settle over a person prior to the biopsy even happening, yet it was there. A certainty.

I opted to not say anything to anyone. I took a bath with those instrumental hymns soothing me. I went to bed and slept extremely well in the Lord’s embrace.

The wind had just been knocked out of me.

In the morning, I knew it was time to tell my husband.

Figuring It Out

August 7, 2024 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

Psalm 18 has always been a favorite of mine! I can identify with so much of what David was writing…

Reading it in the Message translation offered a different perspective I hadn’t experienced before~

Psalm 18:20-24

God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before Him.

When I got my act together, He gave me a fresh start.

Now I’m alert to God’s ways; I don’t take God for granted.

Every day, I review the way He works; I try not to miss a trick.

I feel put back together, and I’m watching my step.

God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to His eyes.

The 15th anniversary of the biggest moment that forever altered my life is almost here. THAT is what “August” represents for me…

15 YEARS is a long time.

5,478 days (with a few Leap Year days added in).

Through heartbreak, I saw the mercy of God and experienced His comfort like nothing I have ever known from any other source – before 2009 or since.

As the psalmist writes, “God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before Him.”

Life feels like PIECES at times… like a puzzle, not all put together yet or like a shattered piece of pottery.

The pieces of a puzzle offer hope. There’s an expectation that it will all come together somehow, some way.

The broken pottery? That’s totally different. It was put together at one point; all the parts formed together to complete a purpose. Then it broke. It shattered.

All that is left is fractured pieces lying on the floor. Its original purpose will probably never happen again in the way it was initially designed…it certainly won’t look the same even if it can be melded back together.

Regardless, both are pieces (the puzzle and the pottery) that need to be placed before God as an offering.

And that’s what I did.

August of 2009 shattered me.

In the winter of 2010, I began the process of handing those broken pieces of who I thought I was and who I thought I should be over to Him.

That decision put me on the path to “get my act together” and God “gave me a fresh start.”

My life started to look different when I decided to put my trust in the Lord and His plan for my life.

It certainly didn’t get easier though…In fact, life seemed to get harder and more complicated.

But that fresh start? It gave me a new way to cope through the challenges.

“Now I’m alert to God’s ways” and I have learned over these 15 years to “not take God for granted.“

In fact, that is the thought that has me reflecting this morning. I’m sitting in my quiet living room with the morning sun streaming through the (dirty) window. I can hear the birds chirping as a cool, August breeze blows. I’m sipping on coffee (of course) that is flavored with (my favorite) Peppermint Mocha zero sugar (zero guilt) foamed (luxury!) creamer.

I’m watching my dog (old man of 16 years) settle onto the couch beside his cat-sibling while the adult-kids are still sleeping in their beds.

I’m tired because I was up “late” last night after a Bible study offered a beautiful prayer and song ended at 11pm.

I’m sitting here in complete thankfulness for the bounty of blessings the Lord has revealed to me.

As the musical “Oklahoma ” declared: “Oh what a beautiful morning… Oh, what a beautiful day… I’ve got a beautiful feeling, everything’s going my way!”

God is good, folks.

Is life perfect? Not even close. Yesterday was filled with heartbreak and tears, and today is taking me to the hospital to visit a close friend recovering from a lung transplant.

But this morning, my heart sings praise.

“Ever day, I review the way He works, and I try not to miss a trick.”

In these last few years, I have felt so much pain. Heartache and heartbreak. I have been confused. Angry. ANXIOUS.

But, today, I’m reminded that “I feel put back together.”

It’s a good thing to be reminded of: I gave those pieces of me to God – over and over I have handed me over to Him through these 15 years.

Those pieces are safely tucked in His hands, and He is making a masterpiece with them… He’s just not done with it yet.

I love this quote:

“If it’s not GOOD, then He’s not done with it yet.“

The conclusion of this is that “God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to His eyes.”

15 years ago, I drank WAY too much alcohol WAY too often. I neglected my children. I lived selfishly. I put me first. I became hopeless after the unexpected death of my sister in law. I fell into despair while being tormented by anxiety.

I handed the pieces of my life to God – the Potter to my broken pottery- and the story He has rewritten has been unexpected and beautiful.

I’m amazed over what God has done.

If He did it for me, He can do it for you.

Will you hand your life pieces over to Him?

When life gets hard, when you are discouraged or disillusioned, when sickness knocks at your door or death crosses your threshold, will you keep handing your life pieces over?

If you do, He will be faithful to complete what He has started in you.

Hang on. Have hope.

PRESSURE

May 12, 2023 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

I am feeling the PRESSURE!

I am feeling PINCHED and PRESSED for time!

I am feeling the ANGST of the end of the school year.

I am feeling the bittersweetness of GRADUATION SEASON.

How did this….

And this…

Turn into THIS…

And this…

My Young Master is GRADUATING high school, and I am not ready for it.

Have you been here??

Have you had BIG moments creeping up on you, and YOU AREN’T READY??? Either emotionally or physically?

I’m preparing for a sermon delivery on Sunday… while writing a sermon for next Wednesday… and I stop to wrote a blog about TIME MANAGEMENT?!

I’ve gone off my rocker folks… but, yeah; that’s exactly what is pressed onto my heart to do.

Right now, apparently.

The Message translation says this perfectly:

Oh! Teach us to live well!! Teach us to live wisely and well!!
Psalm 90:12

Have I lived well, Lord?? Am I living well?

What does that even mean: to live well?

I guess it depends on the person.

Hopefully, you’ve questioned it yourself a time or two over the years and made adjustments depending on the answers.

Living “well” is more than earthly riches and success…those things will wash away as easily as sand on the seashore.

In this season of living, for me, living well looks like

Being wise with my time

Spending quality time with others

Being obedient to what the Lord is calling me to do

Staying connected to Jesus

Staying in the moment

Leaning not on MY understanding

I have so many things to do, but do I need to be doing so many things?? That’s the hard question of life, right?

Just because it should be done doesn’t mean it NEEDS to be done, does it? I must factor in if it (whatever IT is) gets in the way of those things I listed above…

Everything is permissible for me, but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible for me, but I will not be mastered by anything.
1 Corinthians 6:12

That’s some wise counsel there, folks.

Everything is permissible-allowed- but that doesn’t mean me doing it will benefit me.

Teaching me to live well means teaching me to be wise… knowing what will benefit me or not IS wisdom.

The NIV changes that Psalm passage to help us discern the guidance encouraged differently~

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom
Psalm 90:12

What do you want to see happen in your life? What small step can you take to make that happen?

Help us to be wise, Lord….wise with our time for that time is limited.

Back to sermon writing, I go.. with graduation and Open House planning swirling around in my head….trusting that the Lord will continue to provide His wisdom for me to apply in the days ahead.

And when we’re feeling pressed with the pressure of life to do more, be more, move faster, have more…

REMEMBER

We are pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
2 Corinthians 4:8-9

Why??

We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us!
Romans 8:37

Used for Good

January 22, 2023January 22, 2023 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

After an amazing three years of stability and growth we were forced into the wilderness.

Would one ever CHOOSE to go into a time of wilderness? I highly doubt it. We would much rather stay where that stability and growth had become a rather comfortable place to reside, wouldn’t we?

After all, we had experienced peace and healing there…certainly not perfection, but definitely peace, healing, and spiritual growth.

Yes, we may have had some things that were stagnant as well, but the benefits of comfort were still many.

Why make a change?

Needless to say, in our situation all those years ago, we did not see the job loss coming.

Working for a company for twenty years as a valued employee usually MEANS something, right? Apparently not to Big Corporate.

The wandering in the wilderness of unemployment was painful for us. It was filled with uncertainty. We were sad. We were angry. We were afraid. Our pride had been severely damaged.

We were brought to our knees before the feet of Jesus. We had nothing. We felt we were nothing. And there was nothing that felt SECURE anymore.

BUT GOD.

That time of wilderness brought to us an awareness of the PROVISION OF GOD we had never known before: we were positioned to learn what leaning on the Lord really meant.

When God had placed a question on my heart the year prior of “Do you trust Me”, I had NO idea how my resounding YES was going to be tested!!

Could I trust the Lord with our provision when our employment would no longer be what WE expected?

Could I trust the Lord with my marriage and my husband’s sobriety now that he had been stricken with unemployment?

Could I trust that the Lord LOVED us and that we were NOT being punished?

Could I keep claiming the promises that I KNEW to be true even when life was not looking at all like how I imagined it would look?

Five years prior to this time, I had the opportunity to share my testimony of how the Lord had revealed His mercy and comfort to me in my grief. My unexpected encounter with Jesus during a grief support class TRANSFORMED my life- similar to Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus.

Once I had SEEN the living Christ and KNEW I was loved by Him even as I was, there was no turning back for this prodigal child!

After I shared my story I had a side conversation with a lifelong servant of Jesus: a woman I now proudly call my friend (and who is the inspiration for the name of this Blog!).

I told her that I believed the Lord had great things in store for me (that sounds lofty, I know… but it was what was impressed upon my heart). However,I also told her, I knew that my husband was the KEY: he required salvation and then doors would be open for us to do “something” for the Kingdom that I knew we were called to do.

Pretty bold a claim, huh?

Even more so if you knew my husband at that time in our marriage.

Interestingly enough, a person from our past recently “rose up from the ashes” to remind us of how REAL our lives were during that time. It’s not exactly pleasant to be reminded but, in a way, necessary to remember certain details just the same. I won’t say I am thankful for that particular “resurrection of memories,” but God used the painful reminder in the days to come as He has everything else we have gone through.

What happened was that within a year of my bold proclamation to that precious servant of Christ, my marriage entered into a crisis I never anticipated could happen. I felt betrayed, and my husband was left to decide if he was going to “stay or go” in our marriage.

That is a brief synopsis of a time in hell, but I hope you can understand the pain I am not ready to publicly express regarding those days.

I had CLAIMED IN FAITH the declaration that my husband would find salvation in Christ, and a year later, my marriage was at a crossroads instead.

How does that happen?

To fast forward the story to the good part: my husband chose me…chose us…chose our kids…chose our life together.

And then, after MUCH more time, he chose to have a relationship with Jesus and found himself to be a new creation in Christ.

That was when those three years of stability and growth began.

It was BEAUTIFUL.

But, as the story resumes, three years into that time of growth we found ourselves in the wilderness trying to decide HOW to trust the Lord when we had been doing “everything right” and this STILL happened.

What were we to do now?

What were our lives going to look like from this point forward?

The details of that journey are massive in proof of how GOOD our Father in Heaven loves us (not just me and mine, but YOU too).

The relationship between me and the Lord, my husband and the Lord, my husband and I together in the Lord grew deep as we leaned into God with all our uncertainties….our dry and parched, desperate roots reached out for water and found it to be LIVING…refreshing…restoring… revitalizing.

After almost three months of unemployment, my husband accepted an offer to work at the company where he is currently employed to this day eight years later.

It felt like an answer to prayer. Until it didn’t.

You know what I mean by that? Ever been there?

You pray for something….then you get it, but out nowhere, you aren’t so sure it was what you wanted after all because it doesn’t exactly fit the model you thought you prayed for.

You see, we had young sons who were entering into the very busy season of after-school activities while not being able to be home alone yet nor transport themselves to and from places….and my husband’s “answer to prayer” job wanted him to TRAVEL

Out of state.

For a week at a time.

At least twice a month.

He was CERTAINLY not stagnant in his career anymore, but I was INCONVIENCED by his job satisfaction.

I was angry…again. He found his dream job while I convinced myself that I was left home alone to manage our household

I was afraid…again. The list of house issues we had while he traveled were many, and I felt incompetent to handle them.

“Do you trust Me” echoed as my husband and I quarreled toward acceptance of our new reality.

“Do you trust Me” to help figure out childcare concerns?

“Do you trust Me” to find independence when left alone to manage our home?

“Do you trust Me” to protect your husband that I have given back to you?

“Do you trust Me” to take you to the future that I have planned for you?

My “yes” had been resounding in the past…it may have been more hesitant, but my memories of the wilderness allowed me to submit to the answer to prayer I had been given.

This job was going to look this way….and God was going to use it for His glory.

I dug my heels in and softly claimed that promise while asking for confidence to be given in my belief of what I had been told in the Bible.

That leads me, here, to today….eight years of traveling…of learning a new way to trust and communicate in a marriage.

And today is a place of thankfulness.

I am grateful for the continued provision of the Lord as that job he accepted all those years ago was not what we expected or wanted… but was what the Lord knew we needed…what I needed.

Here is my truth: over a year ago, an amazing woman and a most wonderful friend died after a warrior’s fight against colon cancer. I am not “over” my sorrow and missing of her. My grief for losing her is heavy on my heart as there have been recent, tangible reminders of what died with her.

One year ago, my son left our home to join the US Navy. Perhaps I keep the “apron strings too tight,” but I MISS him. I am excited FOR him, but I am officially watching his life from a sideline that is THOUSANDS OF MILES away. I am still adjusting to this new way of living without him in our day to day lives. I find that I feel guilty moving forward “without” him: taking pictures, celebrating holidays, planning vacations hurt.

Four months ago my Crohn’s disease decided to take a turn into its own direction once again. I continue to battle fatigue and discouragement over a war with an autoimmune disease that I cannot control or predict, let alone see.

Finally…my job: healthcare has been forever changed by COVID, and therefore, my career as an RN looks incredibly different than it has in almost thirty years of working at a patient’s hospital bedside. The strain of work is a heavy burden with no ease in sight as financial concerns and major staffing issues plague all medical facilities.

I find I am still asking: am I doing what You want me to do, Lord?

There have been many things in my life, in my marriage, that had been intended for evil…that could have brought about our destruction or hardened my heart with such bitterness that thankfulness would never have been a welcome emotion.

Have I done well?

Am I doing enough?

I am tired, Lord.

I am weary, Father.

But also, I hear this echo from deep inside me~ I am so so thankful, Jesus.

That job? It has brought me rest.

His travels? I have been brought along, not left behind.

He works and I recover.

He labors and I am restored.

He provides and I am rejuvenated.

Am I talking about just Dan here?

No. The Lord has simply allowed my husband to be a beautiful allegory:

HE works, my God works, so I can recover.

HE labors, my Savior and my friend Jesus, so I am restored.

HE provides, my Father who loves me, and that rejuvenates me.

Exodus 14:14

The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.

I am thankful that this job that I argued against and was ungrateful for -even though I had prayed for it- has provided me an opportunity to be still.

Psalm 46:10

Be still and know that I am God.

In being still, by being given an opportunity to be still, I have found rest.

Matthew 11:28

Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

BUT GOD.

Genesis 50:2

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.

Romans 8:28

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.

Keep claiming the promises!

Keep turning to the Lord for His rest.

Stay thankful…even when you don’t understand.

Be surprised by how God uses what was a discouragement, an irritant, a disappointment, an inconvenience for GOOD.

And don’t forget to rest.

Being_Thankful: Day 4

November 5, 2022 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

In Ephesians 5:20 we read these words from the apostle Paul to the church in Ephesus:

Always give thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

I worry about the smallest of things as well as the biggest of deals. Those smaller things can sure take up as much time as the big things though…

I waste time being worried about things that just don’t matter.

I don’t take enough time being thankful for the things I take for granted.

Have you ever thought about saying thank you to God for creating you to live where you live? To be born where you were born?

Sometimes that detail of your life can make a huge difference.

I live in the greatest state in the United States: Michigan. I live in the middle of it where we have snow but are not buried under it most winters. We have four seasons. We have humidity that comes and goes. We are surrounded by wonderful Great Lakes that are as beautiful as the oceans but are salt free. We have “big city” living and “country gal” rural options.

Our weather is moderate in its severity. We have had our tornados, ice storms, and floods…but, economically, we’ve been alright as a state- as far as I have seen anyhow.

We bought a camper about a decade ago and used the tar out of it for most of that time. As our children got older, the frequency of our camping adventures has gotten less and less.

I am sad to confess that we have not used our camper in two whole years. It sits in my driveway… empty but nowhere to go and no one to take it.

I worry about what we should do with it. I hate that it just sits there. I hate that we would never get “what we owe” for it…so it keeps sitting there unused.

My husband is in Buckhorn, Kentucky right now. In July of 2022, there was a rainstorm that caused a river to rise over 12 inches in 3 hours. That rushing rising water crushed towns in its path.

The high school in Buckhorn had water as high as its ceilings and is now destroyed from the aftermath. It is filled with mud, ruined desks and walls, rotten books.

My husband is there to help with Nazarene Compassion International. He is with a team of people to help out in one house for the weekend. One house.

They’ve laid subflooring and flooring in a kitchen and put in drywall.

He sends me pictures of what he is seeing and doing while there.

I asked him where the people are? Where did they go to live now that everything they own is completely gone? Where do the kids go to school? Where do they work to earn a living to repair the damage to their lives and put things back together??

He said many have left to live with families on the higher ground. Others live in campers at the campgrounds. The kids ride four hours on busses to get to and from school each day.

All because they were born and raised in Kentucky. They did nothing wrong but live there.

They are dependent on the help of neighbors, Christian organizations, and the government to clean up their communities.

They are helpless on their own.

And I have an unused camper in my driveway.

My heart aches for the mom of a senior in high school who didn’t get to play his senior year of varsity football for his high school team.

My heart aches for those who are so overwhelmed with where to start fixing this that they are paralyzed.

My heart aches for those who lost their wedding albums, their baby pictures, their pets, their favorite pair of jeans, their grandmother’s china dishes that they didn’t want in the first place…

Their grief must be so heavy.

But with help comes hope…and that is what I pray people like my husband are to them.

Our verse says to ALWAYS give thanks to God for everything .

I need to be thankful that I live in Michigan. I need to be thankful that our weather has been mild and that I don’t live near the water. I need to be thankful for what I’ve been blessed to be a steward over.

I need to learn what to do with the things I’ve been given: when to keep and when to let go. Thankfulness will help me with both sides.

We have so much to be thankful for. I pray we remember that and not take what we have been given for granted.

Being_Thankful: Day 3

November 4, 2022November 4, 2022 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

Forever is a long time.

Supposedly nothing lasts forever.

Waiting can sure feel like forever.

I wonder how to measure “forever”. In years? Decades? Centuries?

Eternity?

Depending on what it is taking forever probably is the tool used for measurement.

This next verse to keep me in the thankfulness mindset has “forever” in mind.

1 Chronicles 16:34

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good; His lovingkindness endures forever.
AMP

Who doesn’t want lovingkindness to last forever? Be it love or kindness or both of them together or even the alternative word mercy .. I’ll take it.

Too much of life is not good.

Sickness is not good.

Death is the worst.

Pain is terrible.

Guilt is miserable.

Anger and jealousy are not fun.

Resentment and bitterness steal joy.

Discontent is horrible.

Disillusionment is the pits.

Discouragement takes time off the clock.

But goodness and mercy?

So sweet.

Pleasant.

Enjoyable.

Peaceful.

Relaxing.

Valuable.

Precious.

Encouraging.

Inspiring.

Revitalizing.

Healing.

But do we spend enough time reflecting on what is good?

Do we spend enough time reflecting on who is the giver and author of all good things?

When I’m downcast it is not easy to try to name, state, declare, or claim what is good in the middle or somewhat around my situation that is so bad.

If I’m being honest- it is almost darn near impossible.

However, that is where that intentionality in choosing an attitude of thanksgiving comes into play like we discussed yesterday…

Imagine this: imagine if I did make a decision to declare God’s goodness in the middle of my troubles, trials, and burdens.

What kind of difference do you think there would be?

Pause on that thought for a minute. Think of a person in your proximity that is going through some hard stuff….Imagine if they found something good to focus on even though life was quite the opposite.

Do you think they might respond even a smidge differently if they could do that?

I use the example of another person because it is WAY easier to look at someone else’s problems and think “if only they do such and such…” Right?

Now imagine it’s you.

What if you focused on the goodness of God when you are swirling around in the middle of a a life tsunami?

Could you do it?

Would you determine to try at least?

The mercy, lovingkindness, of the Lord that endures forever is truly something to be thankful for.

Have you felt His mercy?

Has there been time when you should have been crushed but you weren’t? Has there been a time when you should have fallen apart but something held you together?

That’s mercy.

It looks like a blue sky or a gorgeous sunset when you desperately needed to see one.

It sounds like the right song on the radio or your playlist at exactly the right time.

It feels like running into the perfect person to give you a perfectly timed hug when you least expected it but oh-so-needed it.

It smells like fresh air when you’ve been locked inside the hospital for far too long as you sit at your loved one’s bedside.

Mercy is good…and it endures forever.

When your eyes are suddenly opened to God’s goodness and lovingkindness you will keep seeing more and more of it in your life and around you – no matter what your circumstances are like.

A blatant refusal to see God’s goodness and grace will not place you in a position to receive or recognize His mercy. You won’t see it. You won’t feel it. You will not benefit from it.

I would rather receive what is being freely offered to me…. something that will not run out or end…. especially when times are hard. Even if it means I need to offer up a sacrifice of praise through thanksgiving.

But….I need to acknowledge the goodness of God first so I can be thankful for it.

Acknowledge. Give thanks. Receive.

Why not give it a try today?

Being_Thankful: Day 2

November 3, 2022November 3, 2022 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

Colossians 4:2

Be persistent in prayer, being alert and focused in your prayer life with an attitude of THANKSGIVING.
AMP

Persistent in prayer??

Is it just me or does anyone else feel like a complete and total failure when it comes to that recommendation??

Let’s see a raise of hands:

Have you ever fallen asleep while praying?

Has your mind ever crazy wandered while praying until you realize you aren’t even praying anymore?

Has the day come to an end and you’re all snuggled up in bed with a TV show on and you realized you haven’t prayed officially yet today? And now you kind of don’t want to because the TV show has started?

Do other people talk about their prayer life -listing books about prayer or websites that offer formal prayers- and you have zero idea what they are talking about?

Upon reflection, has it seemed like your prayer life consists of “help me”, “I want”, “I need”, “give them”….and not much about listening?

Ugh.

Me too.

All that pretty much blows the whole “be alert and focused” while praying right off the table too.

Want my two cents?

If you don’t, I’m not so sure why you’re even reading this!

My feelings of being a “praying failure” is certainly NOT helping with maintaining my attitude of thanksgiving.

In fact….my personal criticism keeps the focus much on me and NOT focused on God.

Now I’m not being thankful or focused which will not help me with this be persistent challenge.

Therefore, I think the key is being focused.

What am I focused on in my life?

Am I fixated on my day? How work went? Was traffic bad? Was a person nice or rude to me?

Am I zeroed in on how I’m feeling? Do I feel “well” or “sick”? Am I hungry or full? Frustrated or fulfilled? Tired or well-rested? Bored or content?

Am I concerned about what is going on around me? The political climate, social issues, and injustices of this world are running rampant these days.

Am I worried?

Am I scared?

Am I deleriously happy to the point that I can’t see anyone’s pain anywhere near me?

Or …

Am I thankful?

Thankful of this beautiful fall weather we are experiencing in Michigan.

Thankful for technology that connects me to my traveling husband and my Navy son.

Thankful for my job as an RN and my coworkers that I thoroughly enjoy and care for.

Thankful for my animals that provide unconditional love and entertainment.

Thankful for my belly full of Chicken Piccata – even if it is frozen from Costco (totally delicious! I highly recommend it!)

Thankful for medical treatments that point me in the direction toward remission or healing.

Thankful for the opportunity to visit with my precious friend’s family tomorrow- even though I wish it were her I was visiting instead.

Focusing on what I am thankful for changes the trajectory of my thoughts. It is an intentional act…it takes effort to find reasons to be thankful when life is just plain hard.

When I am intentional, I suddenly become alert to my surroundings.

I am more aware of a bigger picture going on…I am more able to see a different perspective than what is going on inside me or near me.

Choosing to have an attitude of thanksgiving is no small feat. In fact, it could truly be one of the hardest things a person could do…. especially in certain circumstances.

Choosing an attitude of thanksgiving takes being both alert and focused.

My attitude is my countenance. It is what I project to this world around me. It can either be controlled by how I feel or how I want to be.

My attitude could be one of a grumbler….a bitter person who has been hardened by the hurts of this world…a grieving person with a broken heart…a victim who never gets what I feel I want or deserve…a fearful person…a lonely soul…an unforgivable sinner…an angry person who is desperate for justice or revenge…a prideful, self sufficient, independent woman who doesn’t need anyone.

OR- in the midst of all that pain and partial truths- I could choose an attitude of thanksgiving.

When I’ve been wronged? Trust me…I don’t want to find something to be thankful about.

When my heart is broken? Trust me….I don’t feel anything to be thankful about.

When I’m angry…lonely…scared…closed off due to my self sufficient independent pride? I would rather sit in it than choose thankfulness.

And yet …that is what I am called to do: to be persistent in prayer, focused and alert, and choosing an attitude of thanksgiving.

The reward?

Focusing on God brings His peace.

Focusing on God through prayer brings me into His presence.

Persistent prayer helps me to CHOOSE an attitude that goes against my situation.

When my attitude changes? My outlook changes. My behavior changes. My perspective changes.

Being thankful brings hope alive inside of me.

Hope for new things to occur. Hope for God’s promises to be fulfilled. Hope for restoration and healing to happen. Hope for brighter days to come. Hope for goodness to abound.

Being persistent in prayer is not something that should stress me out or make me feel like a failure. Instead it is nothing more than maintaining a continuous dialogue with the One who created me; loved me first and saved me second; transformed me; softened my heart and opened my eyes to His wonder.

A continuous dialogue.

That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? After all, a dialogue means a conversation. It’s a continuous conversation meaning we have a relationship. In this relationship we both talk and both sides listen.

If formal prayers are your thing- keep doing them. If being on your knees at bedtime or before each meal works- don’t stop. If a scheduled time each day is beneficial – maintain that appointment.

But if that’s not you…keep talking to Him anyway.

Small prayers, big prayers: God hears our cry.

Be persistent.

If you don’t know where to start…then try choosing an attitude of thanksgiving and go from there.

What are you thankful for?

Being_Thankful: Day 1

November 2, 2022November 2, 2022 thischicksinpeaceLeave a comment

What a difference a year can make.

Who on earth was it that first said that? Why did they say it?

Were they coming out of rough year and is noticing how much more improved things are?

Was it a really great year the year before and suddenly their world is all topsy-turvy now?

Did they not see the writing on the wall of what could possibly happen leading them to the place they currently reside a whole year later?

Perhaps they did see the obvious foreshadowing of what was to come….and are simply staying the obvious: what a difference a year can make.

A year ago my heart was broken over the death of my friend.

This year? I’m broken but mending.

A year ago I was on top of the world with physical motivation and energy; my Crohn’s seemingly well controlled.

This year? Let’s just say, “welcome back my old friend sluggishness. Hello to increased treatment plans for chronic illness management.”

Last year? My precious family of four was still under one roof where this year we are sans one as the darling first born has left the nest to serve in the Navy.

What a difference a year can make.

Life can often seem like we are on the edge of a precipice…a big change…a journey into the unknown is about to happen.

Well…my life, anyway, can feel that way. At least it is feeling that way and has been for a little while.

The winds of change are blowing. My sons are both almost grown. My husband and I are winking at the age of 50. Opportunities to serve the Lord are becoming more evident as my body continues to force me into humility while I succumb to His grace.

All the more reason to be thankful. To stay thankful.

For what?

For what I have. For what has been withheld.

For where I am and where I did not end up.

For who is around me, who was around me, and who will be around me as I live this life I’ve been given.

For the One who has given me life.

Why not try to be intentionally thankful for the next 30 days?

One whole month…a new Scripture every day… representing and reminding me -us- to be thankful.

Let’s do this!

Isaiah 12:4-5

Give thanks to the Lord and call on His name in prayer. Make His deeds known among the people; proclaim to them that His name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord for He has done excellent and glorious things!
AMP

Make His deeds known among the people

When was the last time you did that? When did I do that last? How often do we really declare the glorious wonders of our God and King to others?

Revelation 12:11 states that is is in the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony that people overcame their enemy.

I wonder if their testimony was about the blood of the Lamb?

My testimony is nothing without Jesus.

All I’ve gone through…all I’ve suffered…all that “didn’t kill me but made me stronger”…is nothing and empty without my Savior.

Yes. I’ve been sober for almost 10 years.

That’s great. Absolutely great stuff.

Yes. I’m no longer ruled by anxiety and the overwhelming urge to control everything and everyone so my world seems safe.

Truly fantastic.

Yes. My husband and I have been able to get our marriage back on track and learn to trust through continuous obstacles.

Beautiful.

But if you really think I accomplished ANY of that on my own strength than you do not know me at all.

I’m not capable of maintaining my sobriety on my own.

I’m not able to let go and breathe instead of caving in to the panic that waits at the front door of my mind.

I’m not capable of being ok with my incredibly handsome husband traveling 2 weeks out of each month knowing that temptation of all kinds lurks in every alley and hotel lobby.

You may think I’m a “strong woman”, but you would be foolish to think I’m that strong.

If I were? I wouldn’t have needed saving.

But boy…at the end of that rope I found my hands were slipping….all I thought I could manage was slipping away…and I was falling.

Right into the arms of the Savior.

All that I thought I knew…all that I thought I was….all that at I thought I wanted….all that I thought mattered was nothing. I was nothing. I was empty. Incapable. Insignificant.

Until.

I heard Him call my name.

He called me Beloved. Forgiven. Chosen. Wanted. More than enough. Loved.

How can I not be an overcomer of all that wants to overwhelm me, destroy me, paralyze me when I declare what the Lord has done for me??

I am overwhelmed with THANKFULNESS and want to sing His praises for He HAS done great things!

Now you try.