Mantle cell lymphoma, five year mark and I am living life

I am living life!

I am learning to let go of things in my life that I have absolutely no control over. I was given the permission to not have to fix everybody. I am allowing myself to feel emotion, all of that emotion I pushed down believing it was the right thing to do because I am a Christian. I am finding out about me and who I am and what I need and what I want. And somehow shouldn’t my cancer fit into this process? Do I just shut the door on it and say “good-bye” (and good riddance)? Or do I welcome it to come forward and incorporate itself into my present self-exploration?

I continue to read with interest an online mantle cell lymphoma forum. This forum is probably my only contact with the at large cancer world. I continue to write on this blog and over a year’s time I have made some wonderful blogging contacts who are inspiring as they face cancer either as a caretaker or patient. And three of my fellow cancer sojourners lost their battle with cancer.

I continue to facilitate a small Christian cancer support group. Many folks say this is a good service. I attend the local hospital’s women’s cancer support group and this group has gone through a lot this past year in losing two members and another one nearing the end of her life. And with our loss comes members who have relapsed and are in treatment again.

I could stop doing all of this and move on with my life. But if I withdrew from the cancer world whether through the net or locally or both, would I miss it? Would I be missed? As I am in this self-exploration and personal development of my hopes and goals for my future (now that I am pretty confident I have many years ahead of me) how does it all fit together? Should it all fit together?

I know some personalities naturally don’t think about or even spend time analyzing events of their past, others are, well, like me. I suppose the “easiest” way to analyze this is to not analyze at it at all but live forward. So if I take that advice in living forward then I think I would be doing exactly what I am doing.

I don’t want to live selfishly for myself (egocentric) but I want to live outwardly from within and give what I can to others; like I wrote, I don’t have to “fix” others, the key is simply being there for others.

When I think of fixing others, only Jesus Christ can do that. I don’t have those miraculous insights into people’s souls and neither can I heal people’s hurts, only Jesus Christ can do that. I think my only obligation is to listen, to hug and to compassionately assure those who God places in my life. I can not see myself NOT doing this.

So here I sit this morning thanking God for what He has given me, life.  I have changed from a self-centered person who felt “safest” in an environment I controlled (or so I thought), I am more empathetic (isn’t that what cancer does, helps us to empathize with others going through difficult times?) and I want to live life fully (there is a lot to live for and do both for others and myself).  I am thankful I can imagine and plan months and years out from today.

When you hear that cancer doesn’t define you, how does that make you feel?  I can’t help believe that hearing the words, “You have cancer”, is like a sharp knife piercing every aspect of a person’s being; physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  I don’t care what kind of cancer you are diagnosed with, I feel pretty safe to say everyone questions their mortality and wonders if cancer will lead to their death.

Cancer does leave a scar on our soul; the size of the scar is different for all of us but it is still a scar.  Cancer is part of our definition because somehow and in some way you responded to it and it changes you; yes, you remain you but there is a newer definition of you.

I am nearing my five year mark.  I look back on this journey and I am  thankful for every high and  low I experienced.  I was strong and focused all through treatment; I was fragmented and lost, lonely and isolated in my first years of survival.  Today I am impassioned to come alongside you as you face your battle.  I sincerely want to be your example of “you can do this and there is life beyond cancer.”  How can I do this for you?

Living the rest of my life.  Glacier National Park, Montana

I had cancer.  I survived cancer.  I am living life.

A new love – hiking in God’s creative wonder.  Would you like to join me?

Levi and Lenya, a special message ~ Fresh Life Church

The unexpected loss of a child, I can’t imagine the shock and disbelief of your little one waking up in the morning and gone by the evening.  We live our daily lives with the pseudo security that the routine of today will be like yesterday’s and tomorrow’s routine will be like today’s.  We take for granted the every day predictability of our days, weeks, months and years; mortality is not in our vocabulary.

Fresh Life Church pastor, Levi Lusko is from my hometown, Kalispell, Montana.  He moved here about seven years ago.  He started his church above a restaurant on Main Street.  They quickly outgrew that facility and moved to an old movie theater and quickly outgrew that so they purchased another movie theater and so the story goes.  Fresh Life Church now reaches from the west of Montana to the east and every where abroad via the internet.

Levi has had an amazing impact in our area; his love for Christ and his call to evangelism is his utmost priority and lived out on a daily basis.  In my opinion, he turned our valley upside down in more ways than one.

Levi and Jennie Lusko’s daughter, Lenya, died due to an asthmatic attack five days before Christmas.  Levi said his wife, Jennie, was wrapping Christmas presents in the next room and had no indication that Lenya was in trouble.  By the time Levi got to Lenya she was unconscious and died in his arms.  He had no time to tell her good-bye.

By God’s amazing grace and power, and in honor of Lenya’s prayers and excitement for the upcoming Christmas Eve service, Levi gave the Christmas Eve message to the church.  I was told there wasn’t a dry eye in the building.

This is an amazing testimony as to how God can take a seemingly horrible, heart wrenching situation and turn it to good in every way.  Yes, Levi and Jennie feel the incredible loss of their daughter and their grief  knows no limit.  God has taken a tragedy, the loss of one little one and in turn, many from all over the world have rededicated their life to God or have confessed their need for the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ.  Little Lenya’s life ended at five years old but many lives are just beginning, a redeemed life secure by the sacrifice of God’s son, Jesus.

Will you take a moment to listen to this powerful story?

Can I pray for you? Walking the tightrope

Life is tenuous and unpredictable.  We have our expectations in how our life should evolve and see ourselves growing older into the twilight years.  But I am in a world where that expectation is no longer.

Life and longevity is like walking a tightrope; the name of this tightrope, or highwire for some, is called cancer and one must walk across as in a dance.  My friends are not carrying the balancing tool either but are walking “freehand” using only one’s body to maintain this feat of balance.  It is definitely mind over reality; a determination to take the next step hoping not to fall and you must not look at the ground nor look at the final destination but walk straight ahead by faith in believing you will get across.

I went to my cancer support group last night.  I came  home discouraged and sad, I learned another fellow sister in the fight relapsed with breast cancer but this time it is in her stomach and possibly bones.  I sat across the table from four women who are in recurrence; I sat across from four brave and courageous women, three who are in treatment in hopes of defeating this beast and one who has resigned and decided quality of life outweighs the alternative, another go at chemotherapy.  I sat at a table with four in recurrence, two who are not and one was told by her oncologist her cancer will come back, it is a matter of time.

I wrote about this before and I write it again, I can walk away (or run away) from this cancer world, I am well.  But I am choosing to remain in it because maybe in some way I can be of service to another.  Little did I know this choice would involve me with friends and acquaintances who have died and may die.  I wasn’t equipped for this but I say “yes” to God in hopes that He can use me somehow and in some way.  I feel inadequate for this task; one, in that I can not empathize with the emotions of relapse and two, I don’t know what it is like to be that much closer to death.  But in my weakness God will use me for his purpose and I know there is one thing I can offer all the time.

“Can I pray for you?”  Prayer.

I sat across the table from my sister who chose to not continue any more treatment.  She doesn’t come right out and say this, but she knows she is dying.  She shared with the group that her days consist of sitting in her lounge chair and either watching t.v. or sleeping or sometimes reading and she said praying is a part of her day, too.  I didn’t know she prayed.  I am glad she prays.

What is prayer?  Prayer is different from meditation, meditation is quieting yourself and focusing in on something.  Prayer is talking to God; prayer is admitting there is a God and he listens to you.  Prayer is hoping and prayer is peace provoking.  Prayer is asking for help or hope or peace and comfort.  Prayer is powerful, too, especially when you ask others to pray for you.  Praying is an action of submitting to some one greater than yourself and believing or having faith that God hears you and that he cares for and about you.  Prayer is not a sign of weakness but of a spiritual strength  and it is from that platform that I ask, “Can I pray for you?”

I am watching my friends walk the tightrope and one is on the highwire.  I stand below them encouraging them along in this daunting task of placing one foot in front of the next without looking down.  I gasp when they wobble and from the ground I shout, “Come on! Come on!  Focus.  One more step!”  On this walk across the wire my friends have nothing to hold on to but determination in persevering and a hope found in prayer.

The cancer world I live in is a heart ache.  I can’t run from this!  I need to come along those who are aching and I need to, no I must!, without hesitancy ask them, “Can I pray for you?”

And the woman across the table looked straight into my eyes and said, “Pray for me.”

image: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tightrope_walking