Hope

As the end of the year approaches, deaths of women around me has been the constant reminder that today is ALL I have.  And what I have is good.  What I have is really enough.  Never have I felt so content in all my life.  Never.  And what a blessing to have this sense of contentment and deep gratitude living inside me. The knowledge and understanding that this life is the only one we are guaranteed. Today is all we are gifted.

So what does it take to recognize the fragility of life if losing Ofie,  Sandra, Jen, or Meg wasn't enough?  These four are just in my personal circle of acquaintances and the truth is there are so many more who have been called home too soon.  And yet still some of us live as if we have all the time in the world. December 27th burns bright in my memory because it is the anniversary of my grandma's death.  Pancreatic cancer ate away at her and she went quickly.  Yet years later, cancer would return to haunt her only daughter at fifty-one and the battle that ensued was life changing and life giving.  Thank God for new treatments and doctors who know their craft to concoct a plan that would ultimately give me more time with my mom. She's nine years cancer free.  Praise be to God!

Earlier this year, a former student of mine succumbed to death weeks after a lung cancer diagnosis.  She was fit and smart, a radiant light snuffed out too soon.  There was such a deep grieving taking place in that church at her funeral.  But as I looked around, I was filled with a sense of hope. I was hopeful her untimely and unfortunate death would speak life giving words into the lives of lost teenagers. They would live their life well because Sandra's life was lost when it was on the brink of new beginnings with graduation looming in her future.

Just weeks ago another acquaintance in her late 30's died from lung cancer.  She was not a smoker.  But she is gone, leaving a husband and two small children to do life without her and it is tragic.  It is untimely.  And I'm mad about it because it just doesn't seem fair.  It isn't.  But it happened and it will keep happening.  We need to be more acutely aware of taking care of ourselves from the inside out--fueling our bodies with real food, nourishing our hearts and souls with the word. . .and being proactive when it comes to our health!  We can not afford not to be!

But no matter what we are going through. . .we must always choose hope.  And that is where Heather Von St. James' story comes in.  Like Sandra and Jen, she too was diagnosed with lung cancer. My woman warrior heart and my mama heart collided when I heard her story. And I knew I had to share it.

When she was 36, just after her first baby, Lily was born, she was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a form of cancer caused by asbestos. People that young aren’t supposed to get mesothelioma, but she did. When she was a girl, she wore her dad’s work coat all the time. It was covered in asbestos from his construction job. People who get mesothelioma aren’t supposed to live for very long. She was told she had 15 months.  Nine years later, holding on to hope, she is still here. Praise be to God! She is using her voice to tell her story, to spread hope and raise awareness about mesothelioma.  

Let's do our part.  Life is fleeting, hang on and live it well.  Live it with eyes wide open that YOU matter and your voice is listened to. Let us be a voice for those who have been silenced by this disease. Let us raise our voices and declare that with hope the odds don't matter!! 

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you HOPE and a future'."--Jeremiah 29:11

Here's to a hopeful 2015 filled with blessings and good health!!!

Death's Door

I remember one particularly trying year, hearing something about things coming in threes.  It was a season where funerals were one after another.  That was a long time ago, but recently three women I know of have succumbed to some kind of cancer or complications from the devastating disease.  Two of these younger than me.  Talk about pausing you in your tracks; taking stock of your life; and just plain questioning why bad things happen to good people!  It hurts my heart that each woman has left behind two kids.  Young kids.  Some of whom aren't even old enough to talk.  That breaks my heart because every child should know their mama's love. It should be tangible.  It should be readily available.  It should be on earth until they are old enough to know how to grieve, shouldn't it?

Exhale.  Recently my little health scare was enough to shake me up to really take stock of this life that I am blessed to be living.  I'm a bit of a pessimist, I must admit because in my head I thought to myself, why not me?  I've been privileged enough to live the life of my dreams, married to my best friend, with kids who are just amazing. . .so maybe my time here will be brief.  God has given me the best, spared my mom, and I will be the one we say good bye to early.  Not exactly joyful thoughts one should spend time dwelling on, so luckily I've moved on to more positive ones and counting my joys.  Thirty-three a day to be exact, which means by the end of this month, I will have a thousand.  A thousand gifts to reflect on His goodness in my life.  A thousand gifts to symbolize so much ordinary activity that is extraordinary only because of the way I choose to live it.

And that right there is what living is all about.  We all are living to die. And in dying because we believe, we know the story doesn't end in our death.  We believe in life after death with our Father who loves us most BUT it's how we live in the meantime that matters most.  It's the choices for how to live we make today that influence our tomorrows.  And while life here on earth with our families is what matters most, we sure don't always show it in our actions or through our words.  Let me say it again, how we live today is a choice that influences our tomorrows.  We don't want to live in regret, having wasted too long carrying burdens that weighted us down. We don't want to live with  anxiety breathing down our necks, or fear clouding our views.  We want to live today, while we still  have the chance.

Run if you can, don't just walk.  Feel the wind through your hair, the sun kissing your skin.  Breathe in deep gulps of gratitude, fresh, crisp November air because your lungs work, and it's lung cancer awareness month-and Jennifer can't anymore.  Notice the rise and fall of your chest.  The natural rhythm of what He created.  Stretch arms and eyes wide to the sky, paying attention to the leaves of trees changing colors in that moment.  When your little one talks, get down to their level, look deeply into their eyes so you can really get to see their heart.  Hug longer.  Linger over the ordinary moments and make them extraordinary--whatever that means to you because life is fragile.  And this is the only one you're given here on this earth, so live it.  Run the race of each day strong and finish well because only God knows when your race is over.  So, better to be ready, to love well  and well lived.  The choice is yours.

Lost too Soon to Lung Cancer

This week was a heavy one.  I attended the rosary for a former student.  In seventeen years of teaching, I've encountered over a thousand students easily. . .and when I first heard this student was sick, I knew just who she was.  I could picture her.  Usually, I can recognize some former students by sight--names might or might not come to me--but this one?  I knew who she was.  She was the kind of student you thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated.  She was attentive and well mannered.  She was inquisitive and encouraging. She was quiet and conscientious, actively involved on campus and just an overall good girl.

From what I heard and read, the traits she had while in my eighth grade Language Arts class followed her to the high school.  Of course they did!  She was THAT kind of person:  4.5 gpa, cheerleader, hospital volunteer, aspiring surgeon. . .who at 17-years-old was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Tragic.  It's hard for me to wrap my head around the idea of her suffering and being sick--this girl with such strong work ethic, and pride, such a promising future.  It breaks my heart for her family, and for her friends.  

And it makes me take pause and love on my littles a little longer. Tucking them in at the end of an exhausting day was relished as a gift instead of a chore.  I looked into their eyes and listened when they were talking to me.  We held hands and picked flowers.  We hiked and explored just because we could.  I read aloud a whole chapter a night instead of cutting it short. . .It's amazing how death, especially that of someone so young, can expand your mama heart to look past the drudgery and embrace it all.  It's the realization that another mom a city away is wailing into the night for what used to be normal--and just like that, it's gone. She's gone.

I absolutely positively do not understand how people come through crisis without their faith.  I realized in church Thursday night, as we prayed the rosary aloud in a church filled to capacity, my prayers and my faith in God and the promise of heaven is all that could get me through. Heck, my faith is all I could think of as I walked up the aisle to pay my respect for her family and a constant stream of prayers were uttered silently in my heart for their comfort and healing.  

Lung cancer. Seventeen.  Sandra.  Those words just don't belong together, yet there they are.  And all I can offer is my prayers.  And all I can ask is that you might do the same please.  

2 Corinthians 5:6-8 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.