Every weekday I make my way to the basement of the hospital. I smile at all my new nurse friends and wait to be called back for my treatment. Once called, I walk into a room with a table and a huge machine at the head of the table. There is a custom-made mold that I lay down into and then two techs carefully position my body so all the dots on my body line up with the lasers of the machine. We're talking sub-millimeter precision.
Then I sit perfectly still. My legs are strapped together, and there is no moving at all.
As I stare at the ceiling waiting for the machine to turn on, my mind may be wandering.
Then it hits!
It starts small, barely noticeable. Then it builds, like a cartoon snowball rolling into a house-sized boulder! Its insatiable appetite cannot be satisfied. It becomes excruciating, consuming every thought I have to try and control it, all to no avail.
What is this powerful force that puts me into such agony?
An itch. A stupid, tiny, insurmountable itch. Sometimes on my nose, or my cheek, maybe my stomach or even a toe, but always there taunting me.
It knows I can't move and it has no mercy on my soul!
This itch can be a lot like worry. It starts small, almost unnoticeable. Just like I can't move to scratch the itch, most often our worries are about things we cannot control. Before too long, it builds and the more I try not to think about it, the worse it becomes until it becomes all-consuming!
Just writing about this I am itching all over!
So what's a guy to do about itches and worries?
1. Don't not think about - No matter how hard you try to "not think about it", you can't. Just simply trying to block it out of your mind will cause it to fester into a full-fledged concentration monster. It will overtake you simply by existing.
2. Accept your reality - During radiation I can't move. That's non-negotiable. There are many things in our lives that are out of our control. We worry because it may affect us or some one we love. However, we can't be the hero that saves everyone from everything. Sometimes things are out of our control and nothing we do can change that. Scratching the itch is not an option and many times removing the source of worry is also not possible.
3. Think of something lovely -
Philippians 4:8
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.
Instead of just "not thinking about it", think about something else. In order to take thoughts captive I often have to redirect my thinking. As I lay on that table a similar memory comes into my mind as I do my desperate battle against the itch.
It's my grandmother singing the hymn, "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus"
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.
Whatever situation you're facing, whatever your worry is, it is nothing in comparison to the riches we have awaiting us. We can't control when an itch comes, or when a worrisome thought arises. We can control how we respond to it. Are we going to take that thought captive? Will we let it grow and transform into a giant monster? The choice and the power to choose are ours.
Showing posts with label worry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worry. Show all posts
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
A real scare!
Last week I had the joy of doing something I've loved doing since I was a boy. Going to the high school basketball finals in East Lansing with my dad and brother. I've been going since I was 10 years old. Almost always we go and watch four games on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (not to mention the college games at night). It's a time of basketball gluttony. That doesn't include the Melting Moments Ice Cream cookie sandwiches which we've named sin cookies.
This year we arrived and got settled in for the first game. I sat down in the chair and leaned back and felt a sharp pain in my mid back off to the right side.
Right where my liver is.
Instantly I became worried. One of the unintended consequences of cancer is you become paranoid. Every weird feeling, pain, itch, or twitch and you're constantly wondering is the cancer spreading. Is this a new symptom? How serious should I take this? Maybe it's just a stomachache, maybe it's cholangitis. How do I know the difference?
As I leaned back in the middle of the Breslin Center thoughts of emergency rooms, missed basketball games, and unknown futures raced through my head.
I slid my hand up my back under my shirt to see if it was sore to the touch and then it hit me.
IT'S A ZIT!!!!
Whew. I've never been so happy to have a big zit on my back. I know this maybe verging on TMI but I feel like a prepubescant boy again with all the zits the chemo is giving me.
I am not much of a worrier. When difficult thoughts come into my mind I can usually take them captive and move on without being dragged down. It's different when I feel something physical though. For some reason it's much harder for me to have faith that God is in control of my aches and pains as much as He is in control of my future.
Matthew 6:34 “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
As I go through the daily grind of living with cancer for over a year, I've noticed certain patterns or rhythms. One of these is that when I focus on today, what I'm supposed to do today or in the short term, I tend not to worry about it. However when I start dreaming, or thinking about the future and all the what ifs and unknowns, then the worry and anxiety tend to rise. This is completely opposite of what Mathew 6:34 tells me to do. I know that God provides me the grace to deal with today.
2 Cor 9:8-9 "And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work."
When my faith is so small that a zit can derail me emotionally, it ought to be a yellow light flashing in my eyes saying, where is your focus today? Do you have triggers that tend to derail you? Is there a child you worry about constantly? How about the college fund, or retirement? Maybe it is your job or your spouse or (fill in the blank here). What part of your life gives you the opportunity to forget that God will provide the grace no matter what you face? Because some day it might not be just a zit, and at that moment God will show Himself again just like He has done time after time. So forget about the worries of today, and abound in every good work that you can!
This year we arrived and got settled in for the first game. I sat down in the chair and leaned back and felt a sharp pain in my mid back off to the right side.
Right where my liver is.
Instantly I became worried. One of the unintended consequences of cancer is you become paranoid. Every weird feeling, pain, itch, or twitch and you're constantly wondering is the cancer spreading. Is this a new symptom? How serious should I take this? Maybe it's just a stomachache, maybe it's cholangitis. How do I know the difference?
As I leaned back in the middle of the Breslin Center thoughts of emergency rooms, missed basketball games, and unknown futures raced through my head.
I slid my hand up my back under my shirt to see if it was sore to the touch and then it hit me.
IT'S A ZIT!!!!
Whew. I've never been so happy to have a big zit on my back. I know this maybe verging on TMI but I feel like a prepubescant boy again with all the zits the chemo is giving me.
I am not much of a worrier. When difficult thoughts come into my mind I can usually take them captive and move on without being dragged down. It's different when I feel something physical though. For some reason it's much harder for me to have faith that God is in control of my aches and pains as much as He is in control of my future.
Matthew 6:34 “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."
As I go through the daily grind of living with cancer for over a year, I've noticed certain patterns or rhythms. One of these is that when I focus on today, what I'm supposed to do today or in the short term, I tend not to worry about it. However when I start dreaming, or thinking about the future and all the what ifs and unknowns, then the worry and anxiety tend to rise. This is completely opposite of what Mathew 6:34 tells me to do. I know that God provides me the grace to deal with today.
2 Cor 9:8-9 "And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work."
When my faith is so small that a zit can derail me emotionally, it ought to be a yellow light flashing in my eyes saying, where is your focus today? Do you have triggers that tend to derail you? Is there a child you worry about constantly? How about the college fund, or retirement? Maybe it is your job or your spouse or (fill in the blank here). What part of your life gives you the opportunity to forget that God will provide the grace no matter what you face? Because some day it might not be just a zit, and at that moment God will show Himself again just like He has done time after time. So forget about the worries of today, and abound in every good work that you can!
Thursday, February 2, 2012
How do you pray for the Lord's will to be done...and really mean it?
Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for the blessing of another day with my wonderful family. My husband and son are gifts that you have given me, and I know that they belong to you along with everything I own. Lord, I pray that your will would be done in our lives. But while you're at it, can you double-check that your will includes healing my husband? Thanks.
Okay, I have never said that verbatim.
But that's honestly what runs through my head sometimes.
And it's insincere. My lips say "Lord, may your will be done", but my heart fears that He may actually do His will and I won't like the end result.
Even though I have made the choice (over and over again) that no matter how this situation ends, I will trust God to do His perfect will in my life, I still find myself all the time questioning whether or not Ryan dying could really be the best possible outcome. Lord, healing him would bring You glory! Think of all the years that Ryan could live, do ministry, speak truth to so many people, and show people how to have hope in their own lives! Yeah, if cancer is anything like the grieving process (which there are some pretty huge similarities), I waffle between bargaining, acceptance, and denial several times a week.
My father-in-law is much more submitted to God's will than I am (at least so it seems!). He constantly asks people for prayer in this situation, but he always asks "please pray that God's perfect will would be done". Sometimes I want to interject and say, "No, Steve, ask for healing!" I'm almost afraid that if too many people pray for God's will to be done, my husband will surely die. It panics me. It's almost as if I have this constant struggle in my chest between knowing what I want, and knowing that this passage is truth:
8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Isaiah 55: 8-9 (NIV)
So the thought that has crossed my mind this week (and Ryan's too) is how do we ask for the Lord's will to be done and really mean it?
So there we have it. Even the son of God prayed for "this cup" (the crucifixion) to be taken from Him. Of course He knew that it would transpire, and why. After all, He was/is God: He planned this. But for one moment, we see an example of Jesus' humanity. And yet still in spite of the momentary glimpse of human frailty, the end of verse 39 remains: "Yet not as I will, but as you will."
Jesus trusted in the plan. As painful as dying on the cross was going to be, He knew that the outcome would glorify God and provide redemption for the rest of us scallywags. Here's some different about me, though: I don't know the outcome of Ryan's cancer. I don't have the same luxury of knowing the future as my Savior did.
Regardless of not knowing, do I trust Him?
Do I trust Him, that whether my husband lives or dies, that is the best outcome for God's Kingdom?
Praying for God's will to be done is SCARY. That completely takes the control out of our hands (ha, like we really had any to begin with) and places our future squarely in the palm of our Lord. And I know that is the best place for me to rest, is in the care of my Lord who loves me.
So like so many other choices that I've had to make for the last ten months, I am forced to make a decision of whether or not I am going to trust God:
So what decision will you make when you pray for yourself or even for us? Do you trust that God's will is perfect, or are you still focused on what you think is best?
Okay, I have never said that verbatim.
But that's honestly what runs through my head sometimes.
And it's insincere. My lips say "Lord, may your will be done", but my heart fears that He may actually do His will and I won't like the end result.
Even though I have made the choice (over and over again) that no matter how this situation ends, I will trust God to do His perfect will in my life, I still find myself all the time questioning whether or not Ryan dying could really be the best possible outcome. Lord, healing him would bring You glory! Think of all the years that Ryan could live, do ministry, speak truth to so many people, and show people how to have hope in their own lives! Yeah, if cancer is anything like the grieving process (which there are some pretty huge similarities), I waffle between bargaining, acceptance, and denial several times a week.
My father-in-law is much more submitted to God's will than I am (at least so it seems!). He constantly asks people for prayer in this situation, but he always asks "please pray that God's perfect will would be done". Sometimes I want to interject and say, "No, Steve, ask for healing!" I'm almost afraid that if too many people pray for God's will to be done, my husband will surely die. It panics me. It's almost as if I have this constant struggle in my chest between knowing what I want, and knowing that this passage is truth:
8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the LORD.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Isaiah 55: 8-9 (NIV)
So the thought that has crossed my mind this week (and Ryan's too) is how do we ask for the Lord's will to be done and really mean it?
Hours before Jesus was arrested, he spent time praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew, as he was both fully man and fully God, exactly what was about to happen to him. Despite knowing the end result (i.e., resurrection and atonement for the sins of all people), Jesus was clearly not looking forward to what was about to transpire:
Matthew 26 (NIV):
36 Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. 38 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
39 Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” So there we have it. Even the son of God prayed for "this cup" (the crucifixion) to be taken from Him. Of course He knew that it would transpire, and why. After all, He was/is God: He planned this. But for one moment, we see an example of Jesus' humanity. And yet still in spite of the momentary glimpse of human frailty, the end of verse 39 remains: "Yet not as I will, but as you will."
Jesus trusted in the plan. As painful as dying on the cross was going to be, He knew that the outcome would glorify God and provide redemption for the rest of us scallywags. Here's some different about me, though: I don't know the outcome of Ryan's cancer. I don't have the same luxury of knowing the future as my Savior did.
Regardless of not knowing, do I trust Him?
Do I trust Him, that whether my husband lives or dies, that is the best outcome for God's Kingdom?
Praying for God's will to be done is SCARY. That completely takes the control out of our hands (ha, like we really had any to begin with) and places our future squarely in the palm of our Lord. And I know that is the best place for me to rest, is in the care of my Lord who loves me.
So like so many other choices that I've had to make for the last ten months, I am forced to make a decision of whether or not I am going to trust God:
- to pray for His will to be done and truly mean it (trusting Him with my/our future),
- or continue to only ask selfishly for Ryan to be healed (not trusting Him entirely).
So what decision will you make when you pray for yourself or even for us? Do you trust that God's will is perfect, or are you still focused on what you think is best?
Monday, October 31, 2011
The scans, they are a-coming!
One week.
One week from today, Ryan will undergo PET, CT, and MRI scans in Zion. We will get the results in approximately 184 hours (noon CST on Tuesday, Nov. 8th). My stomach is returning to that familiar flip-flop state, where I go between taking comfort in the fact that Ryan has seemed absolutely normal and healthy lately, and fearing the worst that could happen. It's a weird place to be, not knowing what the near future looks like. I don't like it. I don't even know for sure how many days to plan to be gone from school. I'm planning for three, and hoping for only two. If anything significant happens with Ryan's progress, then it's entirely possible that we might stay some extra time. (Gosh, I hope not...)
I had the thought the other day on the way to work, "This really is just the beginning." I know that things are going to get worse before they get better. It just isn't feasible that we are going to continue to stay in this lulling, comfortable rhythm of Ryan having treatment, a short recovery time, and then two weeks of feeling completely normal. Even if miracles come about, there would be serious, debilitating, life-altering surgery before Ryan is healed. If the worst happens, then things would get very, very ugly. I have had some people share with me what "the end" is like, and it makes me want to throw up and then punch a wall when I hear those stories. I love my husband so intensely, and sometimes I go crazy with worry and sadness even when he has a bad reaction to chemo. I can't imagine what it is like to go through what some people have already been through. I just can't enter into that.
But I was thinking about these things, and how there are tough times ahead, and I felt overwhelming peace in spite of these scary thoughts. I contemplated how I have been able to move from a shaking, sobbing mess in April as I sat at a friend's kitchen island and declared that I would not be able to handle getting more bad news if Mayo didn't say things that we wanted to hear, to someone that by October can think about the toughest of times while being accompanied by a peace that transcends understanding. And it struck me.
It's as simple as making a choice that I made.
"I am going to do this well. I am going to trust."
And then you have to stick to that choice. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of your choice 10 times a day.
I am a very emotional person by nature. I love big, I can cry at the drop of a hat, and I have a seriously quick temper. But somewhere along the way, emotions have been (somewhat) overruled by logic. I learned an equation this summer, thanks to Beth Moore and beautiful, soul-penetrating Scripture.
If "x" happens, then God will still be good. Solve for x. Answers will vary.
(That is the most helpful equation I've ever learned. I never really had much use for math class.)
I knew last week as I was driving to work, that even if God takes us through the valley of the shadow of death, His goodness will not change. His provision will not falter. He will give us grace for THAT moment. And I just knew very, very deep in my heart that no matter what happens, I was going to be okay. Leaning on Him is what I will choose to do at that time, and therefore I. Will. Be. Okay. This is a wonderful feeling, and unlike anything I have experienced in my life.
Lest I come across as some sort of superhero again, this is not by anything of Kendra that this assurance has come. This is a result of the heart surgery God has performed on me for the last seven months, prayer from thousands of people, and a strength and resolve that is completely not characteristic of me - that's how I know that it's not my own power. Additionally, this is not something that I'm even close to perfect at. I still have my moments of weakness where my focus wanes and I panic. But in my moments of greatest clarity, I know the truth. And it sets me free.
Free from worry.
Free from anxiety.
Free from reliance on Kendra (who is decidedly unreliable).
One week.
Your will be done, Lord. And help me be okay with that.
One week from today, Ryan will undergo PET, CT, and MRI scans in Zion. We will get the results in approximately 184 hours (noon CST on Tuesday, Nov. 8th). My stomach is returning to that familiar flip-flop state, where I go between taking comfort in the fact that Ryan has seemed absolutely normal and healthy lately, and fearing the worst that could happen. It's a weird place to be, not knowing what the near future looks like. I don't like it. I don't even know for sure how many days to plan to be gone from school. I'm planning for three, and hoping for only two. If anything significant happens with Ryan's progress, then it's entirely possible that we might stay some extra time. (Gosh, I hope not...)
I had the thought the other day on the way to work, "This really is just the beginning." I know that things are going to get worse before they get better. It just isn't feasible that we are going to continue to stay in this lulling, comfortable rhythm of Ryan having treatment, a short recovery time, and then two weeks of feeling completely normal. Even if miracles come about, there would be serious, debilitating, life-altering surgery before Ryan is healed. If the worst happens, then things would get very, very ugly. I have had some people share with me what "the end" is like, and it makes me want to throw up and then punch a wall when I hear those stories. I love my husband so intensely, and sometimes I go crazy with worry and sadness even when he has a bad reaction to chemo. I can't imagine what it is like to go through what some people have already been through. I just can't enter into that.
But I was thinking about these things, and how there are tough times ahead, and I felt overwhelming peace in spite of these scary thoughts. I contemplated how I have been able to move from a shaking, sobbing mess in April as I sat at a friend's kitchen island and declared that I would not be able to handle getting more bad news if Mayo didn't say things that we wanted to hear, to someone that by October can think about the toughest of times while being accompanied by a peace that transcends understanding. And it struck me.
It's as simple as making a choice that I made.
"I am going to do this well. I am going to trust."
And then you have to stick to that choice. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of your choice 10 times a day.
I am a very emotional person by nature. I love big, I can cry at the drop of a hat, and I have a seriously quick temper. But somewhere along the way, emotions have been (somewhat) overruled by logic. I learned an equation this summer, thanks to Beth Moore and beautiful, soul-penetrating Scripture.
If "x" happens, then God will still be good. Solve for x. Answers will vary.
(That is the most helpful equation I've ever learned. I never really had much use for math class.)
I knew last week as I was driving to work, that even if God takes us through the valley of the shadow of death, His goodness will not change. His provision will not falter. He will give us grace for THAT moment. And I just knew very, very deep in my heart that no matter what happens, I was going to be okay. Leaning on Him is what I will choose to do at that time, and therefore I. Will. Be. Okay. This is a wonderful feeling, and unlike anything I have experienced in my life.
Lest I come across as some sort of superhero again, this is not by anything of Kendra that this assurance has come. This is a result of the heart surgery God has performed on me for the last seven months, prayer from thousands of people, and a strength and resolve that is completely not characteristic of me - that's how I know that it's not my own power. Additionally, this is not something that I'm even close to perfect at. I still have my moments of weakness where my focus wanes and I panic. But in my moments of greatest clarity, I know the truth. And it sets me free.
Free from worry.
Free from anxiety.
Free from reliance on Kendra (who is decidedly unreliable).
One week.
Your will be done, Lord. And help me be okay with that.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
School daze
In just two days, I will begin a new school year. Only a couple of months ago, the thought of me working anywhere this fall was laughable, and by the grace of God I landed on my feet again in a fabulous district. I'm super excited, but this school year is slightly overwhelming to think about - at least in terms of 180 days. I'm especially worried about the commute. If I go straight from our house to Grand Haven, it's only 35 minutes on fast roads (we live very close to US-31, and my school is right off US-31). However, three days a week I still have to drop off Colton in Montague - and that adds quite a bit to the drive (especially in wintertime). So if anyone that lives near us is interested in a job dropping off my son at daycare three days a week, let me know! I'd be glad to pay you for it. (No, I'm being totally serious. Let me know.)
I am having to do some serious retraining of my mind throughout this process. Truthfully, I struggle all the time with looking too far ahead in the distance. It's something that I've always done. I probably come across as way too scattered to keep a planner, but I meticulously enter in events into my Google calendar (otherwise I would forget them - because of the scatterbrained qualities that I have). I have my Google calendar filled out to at least Christmas, and several events from now to the end of the school year. But lately I've been having to push out thoughts like, "What will I do if I lose Ryan? Where am I going to live? Will I sell the house? Can I keep up this property on my own? Which school district will I end up in? Will I ever be a school counselor? Where is Colton going to go to school? Who will help me take care of him? Will I be alone for the rest of my life? How am I going to do this?" Friends, these are not easy thoughts. I can spend forever and a day thinking about these things, freaking out. Meanwhile, the worst has not even happened. So what's the point of worrying about this now? Answer: nothing. There is no point in worrying.
"Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
We are given grace for this moment. Not tomorrow, or next Tuesday. This moment. My worrying about tomorrow and what will happen is directly a result of a lack of faith that I have in my Lord providing what I need for tomorrow and five years from now. I have no idea what God has in store for Ryan and I. By some miracle, our lives might return to a semblance of what they were prior to April - in high definition instead of standard def. That is my deepest, most aching desire. But it's very likely that life as we know it will never be the same. I can either worry myself into oblivion, or buckle up my seatbelt and give God the proverbial steering wheel. He has our lives headed in a direction that is not easy, but full of promise and meaning.
Meanwhile, I count my blessings that I again will have the chance to impact lives this year. Working with students has always been my highest calling. I like Spanish and French alright, but getting to connect with students who are figuring things out for themselves and being able to be a positive role model for them - that is what fills my cup. Thank you, Lord, for the blessing of being able to do what I love!
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