After 27 years of marriage my husband just had cable installed in our home! He said we need it to save money on our phone and computers. I wasn’t too happy about it, because I want our children “doing” instead of watching. We’ve never been big TV viewers, though we enjoy movies. I knew we’d have to set boundaries especially for Josh and the Disney channel, which increases our parental work load, but I discovered a whole new world!
I found myself alone for a few days, because most of my family was at Camp Agape, and some were working their summer jobs. (Camp Agape is a free family camp for kids who have or have had cancer run by the Greek Orthodox Church) Being alone in a quiet house I decided to check out this “new to me” cable. As I flipped through channels I found Discovery Health. I was instantly hooked. Here were dramatic stories from the ER, mystery diseases and strange abnormalities. Though often gruesome, I thought it all fascinating as it depicted real people, families, and children fighting, living, thriving and suffering through HUGE medical difficulties.
One story fascinated me so much; I was up until 1 AM when it concluded. It was about a family in Florida, whose second child, a daughter, was born with a very rare, genetic disability. She literally had no face. It was an incredible story of LOVE. Her father impressed me as he commented that when he was finally able to see her for the first time, she pulled out her intubation tube. He knew then, she was intelligent, strong and had an attitude. The very qualities she would need to survive. This mother and father took their baby home and cared for her, loved her giving her the best life they could. She’s now 5 years old and has had 29 surgeries trying to make her face functional. At first I struggled to even look at this precious child. Her disfigurement so severe it was heart wrenching. Yet, as I watched, her personality, her loving spirit, the essence of whom she was shone brightly through. Her older sister was incredibly loving and accepting of her. Her parents gave their unconditional love. Her father was a military man and the mother often had to go through the many surgeries with their daughter on her own. She’s been mainstreamed into the public school. And the kindergartners have accepted her. As time goes on, though, she will begin to really understand her deformity and children can be cruel. Her parents worry about her future, but do their best for her now.
I was disappointed to realize Discovery Health was interrupted with commercials, so I would flip the channel and I started viewing an entertainment type show featuring the wedding of a Playboy Bunny to the “love of her life”. The couple was definitely in the “beautiful people” category. Thousands of dollars were being extravagantly spent on this wedding. They showed clips from the bride’s bachelorette party, complete with male strippers and lots of talk about sex and sexual jokes. The bachelor party was surprisingly serious and emotional as the groom and his buddies seemed more bonded than the bride did with her bridesmaids. Interesting, I thought. He gave each groomsman a watch with their nicknames engraved on the back. One of the groomsmen actually began to tear up
They were surrounded by beautiful people; everywhere you looked were perfect people with their entire fixation on self: cosmetic surgeries, perfect teeth, perfect hair and skin, breast implants, nose jobs. The wedding day was filled with airbrush make-up artists, hair dressers and people hired to dress everyone. At one point the bride commented, “We are just “real people” living our dream.” I literally laughed out loud! Here was “plastic world” at its best filled with the shallowness that only Hollywood can bring. Here was the perfect example of image and outside appearances trumping character and substance. There was no depth, no truth, no genuineness only a superficial surface for show. Marveling at the stark contrast between these two shows, these two worlds, I continued flipping channels between them.
A couple days later, I drove up to Camp Agape to join in on the last night. I enjoyed the traditional Greek dinner they serve and the Greek dancing afterward. But the last campfire is what I treasure most. Family after family steps forward willing to share from their heart what camp means to them as they toss a stick in the fire. Many newly diagnosed cancer families were present, as well as families we’ve bonded with over the last 5 years. Some families are still fighting this terrible disease and as they stood before us open, vulnerable able to share their tears, their dreams, their hopes; their depth of spirit was revealed. This was real life filled with real people. There was no shallowness here.
What a dichotomy these two cable shows portrayed. Give me real life; give me real people in challenging situations with depth of character and substance any day.
Discovering cable TV…
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Summiting Mountains and Oasis...
I’ve climbed two mountains so far this summer and I just finished facilitating a woman’s summer Bible study group called Oasis using the book A New Kind of Normal by Carol Kent. What does summiting mountains have to do with leading a Christian book group? Well, they were both extremely challenging, totally rewarding creating new growth in my spiritual, physical and mental life.
I summated Mt. Shasta (14,162 ft) on July 2nd along with my brother, Timmy, friend Torree and her friend, Glen. This was followed by Mt. Adams (12,281 ft) on July 23rd with my Summit Sisters: Laura, Susan and Linda. These adventures have buoyed up my soul in ways I never imagined. Reaching the summit of Shasta brought me to tears as I thought about Jackson Hill, Amanda King, Gage Dole, Lesly Foster and of course, my son Joshua. These children are my heroes as they have battled cancer, some for years, some for months. Some have lost the war and are finally whole in heaven. Some are still waging war with haggard parents, neglected siblings and broken dreams. I wrote each of these children’s names in the summit book realizing how repeating their names over and over again in my mind propelled me to the top just when I thought I couldn’t take another step.
Mt. Adams was a little different summit story. My mental struggle was because of emotional fatigue. I had just experienced a few extremely tumultuous days navigating through multiple stresses each of which took their toll. The most significant stressor had to do with figuring out which risks are acceptable in my son’s life and which are not. How do you allow a boy with a tracheotomy to float down a river knowing if he fell in, his life would most likely be over? I wasn’t sure I was psychologically ready. But deep down, I knew I needed to climb, so I set out with my Summit Sisters and discovered I had the strength to accomplish the task due to Susan’s encouraging words. Just when I was ready to say, “This is good enough” she pushed me onward and upward. “We haven’t come this far to give up now”, she gently coaxed. I also found myself praising God by repeating a mantra of “Thank (step) you (step) Jesus (step)” during the steepest part of the climb. I speculate my soul chose these words as I was grateful to be out in His creation, on His Mountain. The crazy thing was we had decided to do the ascent and descent in one day instead of the usual two days. And 15 ½ hours later we arrived back at the trail head, where we had begun the trip in the dark guided by our headlamps. The feeling was indescribable.
Climbing mountains can be seen as a metaphor for life in many ways. We must persevere, never giving up, pushing forward, “running the race set before us” as the book of Hebrews so clearly reminds us. We all have “mountains” in our lives we desire to someday conquer. And people are key to this, key to our lives. People spur us on, motivate us, inspire us, and encourage us. God often speaks through people as we limp along, buoying us up with hope. Certainly the children of cancer have done that for me just as Susan did. I imagine the end of my life to be similar to reaching the end of the trail. My feet hurt, my body aches but my heart is soaring. I knew I had done my best with the help of others, people God has placed in my life just at the right time, children who have endured such suffering and yet continue to smile.
That first night of the book group at Oasis was heavy as eight women sat around a rectangular table introducing themselves. Tears streamed down each woman’s face as they shared their story, stories of their worlds turning upside down. I felt so overwhelmed hearing their heartache, knowing I couldn’t fix their lives just as I couldn’t fix mine. Childhood cancer, lifelong medical complications, the impact of cancer on my other children, an unexpected grandson and a daughter with a broken heart are the reality of my life. The loss of dreams, rebellious children, bankruptcy, the sudden death of a child, a hurting marriage, a severely disabled child, an abused child and much more were the realities of these women’s lives. “What did I get myself into?” I thought as I drove home that first night. “What can I possibly do? There is so much hurt in this world, Lord. Help me. Help these precious women.” The second night was better as we forged into Carol Kent’s book. She has a way of pointing us to Jesus telling many shocking stories along the way. She herself has suffered tremendously, but has never given up, never walked away from God. She brought to light Mary the mother of Jesus in a fresh new way for me. She helped us realize we are not alone.
The women in my Oasis group amazed me. Their strength, wisdom, hope and tenacity have spurred me on. I bonded with each one thrilling at the knowledge of God working in their lives, gleaning from them the deep knowing and joy that comes from those who suffer. As we completed the book we vowed to survive, persevere, be vulnerable, forgive, trust, hold those we love with open hands, be thankful and choose purposeful action just as the book had taught us to do. By our last gathering I realized Jesus is active in their lives, seeing them through, helping them run the race, helping them accept their “new normal” finding new purpose which enables them to summit their mountains.
Summiting mountains and Oasis…
I summated Mt. Shasta (14,162 ft) on July 2nd along with my brother, Timmy, friend Torree and her friend, Glen. This was followed by Mt. Adams (12,281 ft) on July 23rd with my Summit Sisters: Laura, Susan and Linda. These adventures have buoyed up my soul in ways I never imagined. Reaching the summit of Shasta brought me to tears as I thought about Jackson Hill, Amanda King, Gage Dole, Lesly Foster and of course, my son Joshua. These children are my heroes as they have battled cancer, some for years, some for months. Some have lost the war and are finally whole in heaven. Some are still waging war with haggard parents, neglected siblings and broken dreams. I wrote each of these children’s names in the summit book realizing how repeating their names over and over again in my mind propelled me to the top just when I thought I couldn’t take another step.
Mt. Adams was a little different summit story. My mental struggle was because of emotional fatigue. I had just experienced a few extremely tumultuous days navigating through multiple stresses each of which took their toll. The most significant stressor had to do with figuring out which risks are acceptable in my son’s life and which are not. How do you allow a boy with a tracheotomy to float down a river knowing if he fell in, his life would most likely be over? I wasn’t sure I was psychologically ready. But deep down, I knew I needed to climb, so I set out with my Summit Sisters and discovered I had the strength to accomplish the task due to Susan’s encouraging words. Just when I was ready to say, “This is good enough” she pushed me onward and upward. “We haven’t come this far to give up now”, she gently coaxed. I also found myself praising God by repeating a mantra of “Thank (step) you (step) Jesus (step)” during the steepest part of the climb. I speculate my soul chose these words as I was grateful to be out in His creation, on His Mountain. The crazy thing was we had decided to do the ascent and descent in one day instead of the usual two days. And 15 ½ hours later we arrived back at the trail head, where we had begun the trip in the dark guided by our headlamps. The feeling was indescribable.
Climbing mountains can be seen as a metaphor for life in many ways. We must persevere, never giving up, pushing forward, “running the race set before us” as the book of Hebrews so clearly reminds us. We all have “mountains” in our lives we desire to someday conquer. And people are key to this, key to our lives. People spur us on, motivate us, inspire us, and encourage us. God often speaks through people as we limp along, buoying us up with hope. Certainly the children of cancer have done that for me just as Susan did. I imagine the end of my life to be similar to reaching the end of the trail. My feet hurt, my body aches but my heart is soaring. I knew I had done my best with the help of others, people God has placed in my life just at the right time, children who have endured such suffering and yet continue to smile.
That first night of the book group at Oasis was heavy as eight women sat around a rectangular table introducing themselves. Tears streamed down each woman’s face as they shared their story, stories of their worlds turning upside down. I felt so overwhelmed hearing their heartache, knowing I couldn’t fix their lives just as I couldn’t fix mine. Childhood cancer, lifelong medical complications, the impact of cancer on my other children, an unexpected grandson and a daughter with a broken heart are the reality of my life. The loss of dreams, rebellious children, bankruptcy, the sudden death of a child, a hurting marriage, a severely disabled child, an abused child and much more were the realities of these women’s lives. “What did I get myself into?” I thought as I drove home that first night. “What can I possibly do? There is so much hurt in this world, Lord. Help me. Help these precious women.” The second night was better as we forged into Carol Kent’s book. She has a way of pointing us to Jesus telling many shocking stories along the way. She herself has suffered tremendously, but has never given up, never walked away from God. She brought to light Mary the mother of Jesus in a fresh new way for me. She helped us realize we are not alone.
The women in my Oasis group amazed me. Their strength, wisdom, hope and tenacity have spurred me on. I bonded with each one thrilling at the knowledge of God working in their lives, gleaning from them the deep knowing and joy that comes from those who suffer. As we completed the book we vowed to survive, persevere, be vulnerable, forgive, trust, hold those we love with open hands, be thankful and choose purposeful action just as the book had taught us to do. By our last gathering I realized Jesus is active in their lives, seeing them through, helping them run the race, helping them accept their “new normal” finding new purpose which enables them to summit their mountains.
Summiting mountains and Oasis…
Friday, June 12, 2009
Living in No Man's Land...
When I was 16 years old I spent the summer in a small border town between Austria and Hungry. One country was free the other was not. And in-between the two was No Man’s Land, a space belonging to neither region. It was a barren place seen clearly by both countries, yet unclaimed by either side. And now I live there.
It’s odd living in No Man’s Land a world between. A place guarded on both sides by those who KNOW what it means and those who DON’T. Each side equal in value and goodness, but one area much harsher than the other, a tougher place to live, ripe with heaviness. The other side is more untroubled, care free, lighter. The liberated side doesn’t understand the heavy side, always hoping they never have to cross over. Everyone who lives in the difficult area remembers when they existed on the easier side, but they can never go back. Eventually, they too will end up in No Man’s Land.
Just like me living in No Man’s Land a world between…
Somehow I’m able to step into each region for a time, connecting with both sides. Just this week I walked beside moms and children struggling, confused as they navigated their journey trapped for now on the heavy side. I gave out hugs; I cried with the moms and put on a loving smile for the children, their glowing beauty dazzling my heart. I listened feeling the burden, but knowing it wasn’t completely mine. Then it was time to enter the lighter place and I sat laughing, joking, listening to the silly talk, but the underlying hollowness ruined the lightness. I don’t fit into this world anymore. I never will again. But I don’t entirely fit into the weighty side any longer either. I cross the borders at will and join in moving around each region, never fully present. I’m in-between, isolated from both districts.
Living in No Man’s Land…
It’s odd living in No Man’s Land a world between. A place guarded on both sides by those who KNOW what it means and those who DON’T. Each side equal in value and goodness, but one area much harsher than the other, a tougher place to live, ripe with heaviness. The other side is more untroubled, care free, lighter. The liberated side doesn’t understand the heavy side, always hoping they never have to cross over. Everyone who lives in the difficult area remembers when they existed on the easier side, but they can never go back. Eventually, they too will end up in No Man’s Land.
Just like me living in No Man’s Land a world between…
Somehow I’m able to step into each region for a time, connecting with both sides. Just this week I walked beside moms and children struggling, confused as they navigated their journey trapped for now on the heavy side. I gave out hugs; I cried with the moms and put on a loving smile for the children, their glowing beauty dazzling my heart. I listened feeling the burden, but knowing it wasn’t completely mine. Then it was time to enter the lighter place and I sat laughing, joking, listening to the silly talk, but the underlying hollowness ruined the lightness. I don’t fit into this world anymore. I never will again. But I don’t entirely fit into the weighty side any longer either. I cross the borders at will and join in moving around each region, never fully present. I’m in-between, isolated from both districts.
Living in No Man’s Land…
Friday, June 5, 2009
It's been a while...
...Since I updated.
Life has been full and challenging and more. Tonight I'm alone sitting here at this kitchen table thinking many different thoughts:
The Sports Outreach Institute fundraiser golf tournament today raised more money than we ever dreamed possible for the poorest of the poor children in East Africa...ONLY GOD.
Amanda King, a precious 18 year old is taking her last breath on this earth surrounded by her loving family...ONLY GOD.
My oldest has moved into an apartment with her husband and baby, yet they struggle in their marriage talking about co-parenting...ONLY GOD.
My second is dating a wonderful young man and I'm hoping no hearts are broken...ONLY GOD.
My third is facing the SAT yet again tomorrow morning...ONLY GOD.
My fourth has a life full of fun, drama and fun...may her spiritual life grow...ONLY GOD.
My husband sleeps in the Tree House with our son, exhausted yet feeling fullfilled again knowing God's blessings...ONLY GOD.
Joshua sleeps beside him, ready for his Lego class tomorrow, hoping the kids won't point or ask him questions ignoring the tracheostomy he lives with...ONLY GOD.
Two of my dear friends struggle against the monster that threatens to devour their only children...ONLY GOD.
And I marvel at my life with a grateful heart...ONLY GOD.
Life has been full and challenging and more. Tonight I'm alone sitting here at this kitchen table thinking many different thoughts:
The Sports Outreach Institute fundraiser golf tournament today raised more money than we ever dreamed possible for the poorest of the poor children in East Africa...ONLY GOD.
Amanda King, a precious 18 year old is taking her last breath on this earth surrounded by her loving family...ONLY GOD.
My oldest has moved into an apartment with her husband and baby, yet they struggle in their marriage talking about co-parenting...ONLY GOD.
My second is dating a wonderful young man and I'm hoping no hearts are broken...ONLY GOD.
My third is facing the SAT yet again tomorrow morning...ONLY GOD.
My fourth has a life full of fun, drama and fun...may her spiritual life grow...ONLY GOD.
My husband sleeps in the Tree House with our son, exhausted yet feeling fullfilled again knowing God's blessings...ONLY GOD.
Joshua sleeps beside him, ready for his Lego class tomorrow, hoping the kids won't point or ask him questions ignoring the tracheostomy he lives with...ONLY GOD.
Two of my dear friends struggle against the monster that threatens to devour their only children...ONLY GOD.
And I marvel at my life with a grateful heart...ONLY GOD.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Healing has come to my home...
It’s very difficult to put into words what has happened over these last four days, but I will attempt it. My husband works for a Christian non-profit and two of his national staff came to visit us from Uganda, Africa. Aloysius and Esther Kyazze work in northern Uganda with war traumatized children, adults, HIV mothers and child mothers. I cannot express in this short space all they do for their people. But I can tell you they have both been gifted by God to see into the hearts and souls of hurting people, bringing healing and peace.
Our time together was short, but full of many meetings, speaking engagements and times of sharing. One morning we asked Aloysius to enlighten us with how he reaches out to these African children who have known nothing but war. Many of the children have been abducted by the rebel army and forced to become child soldiers. Many of them have been forced to butcher their own parents. Many have been forced to become sex slaves of the adult rebels. After escaping they are left emotionally, physically and psychologically damaged. The HIV mothers have been infected through rape or unfaithful husbands. The child mother’s have been tricked by unscrupulous men to have sex for food or a small treat then abandoned by the man and even their own families when they become pregnant. These girls are as young as 13 years.
Because they have known nothing but war for 25 years, this community of people have forgotten how to farm, how to raise livestock, how to be self sufficient. The NGOs in the area have handed out food and aid, but are now closing their offices as the crisis is over leaving these people with no knowledge of how to take care for themselves or how to get on with the business of living. The government is telling them to go back to their villages when their villages have been destroyed. Aloysius and Esther along with their staff and volunteers help teach their people the tools and skills they will need to begin again. They also walk along side of them to help bring emotional healing.
As Aloysius began to teach us how he encourages a traumatized person and helps them begin the healing process, my husband and I realized how broken we had become through Josh’s cancer diagnosis, treatment and continuing medical issues. We had already known this, but it became clearer as Aloysius was sharing with us. The trauma has also impacted our four daughters in various ways. If you have read this blog at all, you will know through my writings of our pain, heartache and struggles. Just the confirmation by Aloysius of our brokenness was enough to begin softening and covering our hearts with the balm of healing. I know we have not endured the atrocities these poor people in northern Uganda have, but our trauma is just as real, just as painful and just as much in need of help as theirs. In my world there are many hurting families due to childhood cancer and I desire to acquire the tools to be able to reach out to them with love, compassion and hope through the Holy Spirit.
Late last night, Esther spoke intensely and from her heart with our two high school daughters imparting an African Mama’s perspective and wisdom on life and God. What a special time that was! As I crawled into bed late in the evening, tears filled my eyes and a song I hadn’t sung in a long time filled my mind. It is titled “There is a Balm in Gilead”. I looked it up this morning and low and behold, it’s an African American Spiritual! I have copied the powerful words below. Aloysius and Esther left early this morning leaving behind a husband and wife who now feel a wholeness returning. Our focus, energy and purpose have been revived.
The healing has begun…
There Is a Balm in Gilead
By: African American Spiritual
Sometimes I feel discouraged and think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus and say, "He died for all."
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
Don’t ever feel discouraged, for Jesus is your friend;
And if you lack for knowledge, He’ll never refuse to lend.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
Our time together was short, but full of many meetings, speaking engagements and times of sharing. One morning we asked Aloysius to enlighten us with how he reaches out to these African children who have known nothing but war. Many of the children have been abducted by the rebel army and forced to become child soldiers. Many of them have been forced to butcher their own parents. Many have been forced to become sex slaves of the adult rebels. After escaping they are left emotionally, physically and psychologically damaged. The HIV mothers have been infected through rape or unfaithful husbands. The child mother’s have been tricked by unscrupulous men to have sex for food or a small treat then abandoned by the man and even their own families when they become pregnant. These girls are as young as 13 years.
Because they have known nothing but war for 25 years, this community of people have forgotten how to farm, how to raise livestock, how to be self sufficient. The NGOs in the area have handed out food and aid, but are now closing their offices as the crisis is over leaving these people with no knowledge of how to take care for themselves or how to get on with the business of living. The government is telling them to go back to their villages when their villages have been destroyed. Aloysius and Esther along with their staff and volunteers help teach their people the tools and skills they will need to begin again. They also walk along side of them to help bring emotional healing.
As Aloysius began to teach us how he encourages a traumatized person and helps them begin the healing process, my husband and I realized how broken we had become through Josh’s cancer diagnosis, treatment and continuing medical issues. We had already known this, but it became clearer as Aloysius was sharing with us. The trauma has also impacted our four daughters in various ways. If you have read this blog at all, you will know through my writings of our pain, heartache and struggles. Just the confirmation by Aloysius of our brokenness was enough to begin softening and covering our hearts with the balm of healing. I know we have not endured the atrocities these poor people in northern Uganda have, but our trauma is just as real, just as painful and just as much in need of help as theirs. In my world there are many hurting families due to childhood cancer and I desire to acquire the tools to be able to reach out to them with love, compassion and hope through the Holy Spirit.
Late last night, Esther spoke intensely and from her heart with our two high school daughters imparting an African Mama’s perspective and wisdom on life and God. What a special time that was! As I crawled into bed late in the evening, tears filled my eyes and a song I hadn’t sung in a long time filled my mind. It is titled “There is a Balm in Gilead”. I looked it up this morning and low and behold, it’s an African American Spiritual! I have copied the powerful words below. Aloysius and Esther left early this morning leaving behind a husband and wife who now feel a wholeness returning. Our focus, energy and purpose have been revived.
The healing has begun…
There Is a Balm in Gilead
By: African American Spiritual
Sometimes I feel discouraged and think my work’s in vain,
But then the Holy Spirit revives my soul again.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul,
You can tell the love of Jesus and say, "He died for all."
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
Don’t ever feel discouraged, for Jesus is your friend;
And if you lack for knowledge, He’ll never refuse to lend.
There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul.
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