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We’ve Got a Complication

“Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

As I waited for my lung biopsy, the doctor entered my cubical, leaned his shoulder on the wall, and introduced himself. His next statement stunned me.

“We’ve got a complication.”

I furrowed my brow. How could we have a complication? I just draped myself in a hospital gown and climbed onto the gurney. They hadn’t done anything yet to complicate.

“The pet scan you had yesterday,” he continued, “showed fluid on your right lung. It has hidden the spot I’m supposed to biopsy, which means we’ll do two procedures today. First, we’ll tap the fluid from your lung, then we’ll do the biopsy as planned.”

Well, knock me over with a feather. Seriously, talk about a plot twist.

Gene asked the next obvious question, “Where’d the fluid come from?”

The doctor said, “The tumor is growing rapidly, demanding the blood vessels feeding it to grow rapidly as well. Blood vessels in adults aren’t supposed to grow. So when they do, they develop leaks through which the fluids, not the blood, in the vessels drain.”

This is serious, I thought.

As though he read my mind, the doctor confirmed my thoughts, “This is very serious. We need your cooperation. When I say stop breathing, I need you to stop. Do not take a deep breath or exhale. Simply stop breathing.”

He explained more of the complications that could arise if I did the wrong thing, which made more nervous. I felt like I was going to take a major exam that I hadn’t studied for. I was sure to fail. So for the next 30 minutes or so, I practiced.

Breathe. Stop. Breathe. Stop. Breathe. Stop.

My stomach twisted into knots. I prayed, “Lord, if I ever needed your peace, I need it now.”

The nurse came for me. Gene kissed me and walked in the opposite direction. Double doors open. Ceiling lights glittered. More double doors open. And I prayed.

We finally reached our destination. I scooted from the gurney to the CT scan table. They positioned me then rolled me into the machine for a preliminary scan. They marked the spot to go in.

I prayed and found myself so relaxed that I almost fell asleep before the gave me the sedative. It was a mild one to relax me. They wanted me awake for both procedures. I only felt a cold sensation when they rubbed a numbing agent on my side and pressure when they inserted the needle. I was so relaxed the doctor never asked me to stop breathing.

God was definitely with me through those procedures that day, as I put into practice Joshua’s command to his army: “Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

The Lord’s faithfulness never ceases to amaze me.

How about you? How has God answered your prayer for peace?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

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Remission—a Time to Rest

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken (Psalms 62:5-6)

 

Rest, Dream, Refresh

I’ve been in remission for nine months. Seems odd to say. I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around having been diagnosed with cancer. It’s weird really. I have no pain, other than the neuropathy I acquired from treatment. I don’t feel sick. I have no restrictions.

I do tire easily. I’m told my body is still recovering from the chemo. I am also getting older. So who’s knows if my mild fatigue is from chemo or aging?

All I know is being in remission doesn’t feel much different than not having cancer.

There’s one small difference. I have a lot more appointments to contend with now. Every six weeks, my medi-port needs flushed. Every three months, blood work, a CT or PET scan, and a nice chat with my oncologist fills my calendar.

Wow! I never thought any of those terms would be part of my norm, especially an oncologist. But here it is. And I’m adjusting. I’m in remissions. I’m at rest.

On Wednesday, I go for another CT scan. The following week, I visit the oncologist for the results. Am I a little nervous? Yes.

Every time I go through the process, my nerves rattle a little bit. Will something show up this time? What treatments will they recommend? How long will the treatments last? How will my system react this time? Will the neuropathy worsen? And on and on my mind whirls with concerns. There’s always the possibility cancer will show up somewhere else, sending me back to the clinic as a regular.

Those thoughts might disrupt my rest, but they never jerk me out of God’s arms and the true rest He gives.
I hope the cancer never rears its ugly face in my body or in anyone else’s body for the remainder of my life. But the doctors can’t guarantee it won’t. That’s okay. My hope doesn’t rest on the doctors’ word. My hope rests in God. Even if the disease returns, my hope rests in God. He never fails, nor does He sleep. He took me by the hand and led me this far. He promised to stay with me, protect me, provide for me, and comfort me. He was proven faithful.

How about you? How has God proven faithful to you?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

A Firm Foundation

For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 3:11)

 

Hands are amazing.

A few days ago, my two-year-old granddaughter fascinated herself with my hands for about 30 minutes. She bent my fingers ever-so gently this way and that. She flip-flopped my hands at the wrists and patty-caked them. She hid her hands in mine and pretended she didn’t know where they were. It delighted me to watch her. Hands have always fascinated me too. Just think about all the things we do with them.

Feet, however, haven’t been so interesting to me. Yeah, I can pick things up with them, or at least I could, and wiggle my toes. Other than that, my feet carry me from here to there. Nowhere near as mesmerizing as my hands. I never really thought too much about my feet until now.

Now, I realize they are my foundation, and my foundation currently feels as though it’s crumbling. Wiggling my toes has become a blessing. A couple of months ago I could barely move them. Like I said in a previous post, it’s the little things that become huge when you have gone through a crisis. Still, walking is difficult. I’m reminded many times a day how important my foundation is.

Unlike my physical foundation, my spiritual foundation is built on the firm foundation that cannot crumble—Jesus Christ. The prophet Isaiah foretold of God’s plan to build a foundation using His Son. So this is what the Sovereign Lord says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who relies on it will never be stricken with panic” (Isaiah 28:16). I trust that promise as I rely on the Precious Cornerstone.

I may be stricken with health issues. But I am not stricken with panic. I rest in the assurance that God is in control of every aspect of my life. That doesn’t mean I don’t have moments of despair when irrepressible tears flow. It means I’m damaged. I need help from the only one who is truly capable of restoring my physical foundation. It means my Firm Foundation is still intact and holds me up and will never let me fall.

How about you? On what foundation does your faith rest?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

Time Out!

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)

It’s been three months since my last post! Hard to believe. I went through six months of chemo treatments with little discomfort or anxiety, like super woman or something. About one week after being told I’m in remission, I crashed…mentally, physically, emotionally. I was done.

Apparently, my system had had enough, and that’s totally normal. I couldn’t do much, other than sleep and eat. To make matters worse, I didn’t really care. Sure I wanted to do something, feel productive in some way. But honestly, I didn’t have the energy to care enough to move my body from the couch or to form coherent thoughts. People told me it was part of the healing process and I should relax and allow my body time to heal. So I did right through Christmas shopping, baking, and decorating … guilt free. It’ll be a Christmas easily forgotten. Not meaningless, just uneventful.

Yet, God arranged some pretty amazing treats for our family over the Holiday. We were able to go to an Aaron Shust concert, which was even more special because my older daughter went to college with him. He remembered her, making her super mom in her sons’ eyes (and even her mother’s) for the weekend. Our grandson was accepted into his two top-choice colleges. What a decision he has to make. But what a Christmas blessing. Among the normal Christmas goings-on, there were peace and joy that we rarely experience. Or maybe, we just don’t recognize them. I can’t explain it. I barely noticed it until just now while I was pondering the past month.

There are times we need to rest. Simply rest. Jesus provides that time when we fail to notice our need. He says sit by my side, breathe, trust, heal. That’s it. That’s what He wants us to do … sometimes.

How about you? When was the last time you basked in the Savior’s peace and joy?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

No Rest for the Weary—or Is There?

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

“Get plenty of rest,” they say as they pump my body full of steroids. Personally, I don’t see how the nurses can keep a straight face while doing so. Anyone who’s been on steroids knows rest is NOT part of the package. Those meds wire you, make you think you can run a marathon—and win without any training.

They also give you Benadryl, which does make you sleepy. Perhaps that’s how the nurses are capable of wearing that straight-faced mask.

Regardless, upon returning home after treatment, I’m fall-asleep-on-my-feet tired. I lie down on the couch with the intentions of sleeping off the effects of the meds. My legs, arms, and mind suddenly kick into high energy mode. I get up. I walk into another room and want to fall asleep on my feet again. So the war between Benadryl and the steroids begins.

Unfortunately, I don’t get enough energy to actually accomplish anything…just enough to stay awake into the wee-hours of the night. I toss and turn until I can no longer lie in bed. I retreat to the living room and, stretching out on the recliner, open the Bible. I read for an hour or so before the steroids concede defeat. When I wake a short time later, I dodder drowsily back to my bed. The steroids seize the opportunity to regain their control. Then I remember Jesus promised to give me rest if I come to Him. Then I pray. He’s faithful. I sleep.

How about you? What motivates you to claim Jesus’ promises?

See you in a twinkling,

Brenda K. Hendricks

When God Puts Us in Time Out

 

When my daughters became annoyingly overactive, it told me they needed rest … a nap … TIMEOUT. Or maybe I’m the one who needed the break. Regardless, the correction slowed them down, gave them a new perspective on their surroundings, and usually, offered time to come up with a quieter or more productive activity.

Come sit on my deck and enjoy the weather.

As adults, we become overactive with life, rushing here and there, always busy doing, never resting. Occasionally, the Lord says, “Enough. I’m putting you in timeout.” At least that’s how it feels on snowy days like today. The most of Central Pennsylvania has come to a halt. Schools are cancelled. Businesses are shutdown. Few cars are on the road. It’s so quiet. We have time to think, time to reevaluate our lives, time to commune with our Creator. Sometimes, He just wants us to stop and reflect on His goodness.

When the roads are cleared, it’s business as usual. But we feel refreshed, ready to face the hectic life we’ve grown accustomed to. And we realize how much we needed to listen to our Father, to set at His feet and be comforted … to be still and know that He is God (Psalms 46:10).

How about you? How has the storm affected you?

Follow Me!

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12)

Follow Me!

Follow Me!

Follow me on Facebook. Those words have become commonplace in our society. When we meet someone, whether an old acquaintance or a new friend, our departing words are often follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Good Reads or a half-dozen other social media sites. Social media has gotten so big, businesses entice us to follow them by offering discounts on their products if not free merchandise.

To some Jesus’ call to “Follow Me” sounds as inviting as following a business on Facebook. He offers rest (Matthew 11:28), the light of life (John 8:12), and peace (John 14:27). Ah, yes, let’s rush over to His page and click the follow button before the offer expires. We accept the deal with great expectations of a life of ease. We treat Jesus’ call the same way we treat 99% of the people we follow on social media. Sure we read His posts … occasionally … when Bible verses pop up on Twitter … if it’s a convenient time. We even like and share Scripture on Facebook, along with those catchy little sayings that make our spirits say, “Yes and amen.”

That’s all fine and good—except when we get right down to it

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Next week:

We’ll look at breaking with the past. Please prepare by studying Ephesians 4:17-32.

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks