Give Praise Where Praise is Due

On Friday I had another doctor's appointment. There have been a flurry of them recently because my doctor is anxious to get me back on my chemo regimen. However, the platelets in my blood count have not been cooperating. It would seem that they hate the chemo as much as I do. I am on a significantly lower dose of chemo than they want me to be, and I have had an extra week to recover from the last round - but my platelets keep dropping, which means they cannot treat me.

This could be frustrating, especially if Krang were to take advantage of this respite to grow larger and take over my brain. Nonetheless as I sat in the doctor's office I felt joy washing over me like a flood. This might sound twisted, but I don't really care. As I received bad news my whole body felt alive and my spirit was overwhelmed with the goodness of God.

I ended up spending close to half an hour sitting and waiting in that office by myself, watching nurses pass in the hall. But as I waited the joy in me grew and grew. I said numerous times lately that I have been waiting for some kind of confirmation of what to do with myself in this season of my life. As I have waited I have pondered a number of different options that interest me. Here are a few:

- focus on music using the "unprofessional" route and taking piano lessons again - then going on to teach (a few months until I'm certified)

- study music professionally by going back to school for a Bachelor of Music (four years...ahh, too long!)

- I already have a Bachelor of Science in Human Nutrition so I could go back to school and get a Bachelor of Education to teach science (two years... easier, but do I really want to teach?)

- I could work at some job (endless...sigh!)

- I could get my Registered Dietitian status by doing an unpaid practicum at various locations around Winnipeg (nine months... do-able, but I have a strong dislike for the way nutrition is applied in North America)

- I could go for my Masters in Nutrition (two years... but the idea of doing research on a single compound or body system for two years makes me shudder. My university doesn't work on development issues so much as scientific research - not my cup of tea)

As you can see, I feel a bit like I just graduated from High School, except that now I know more about myself and my interests.

On Friday as I sat in the doctor's office, something came to me and an overwhelming peace came with it. Something that seems impossible, but would be a step of faith.

Before I go there, let's just step back a minute. I don't know how many people remember the blog entries I wrote back in July and August, shortly after we discovered I have a "Krang". But there was an entry back on July 29 called What is it like to be Grieved? In that entry I outlined the approach James and I felt God was asking us to take. We felt strongly (and have continued to feel), that to deny the presence and (according to medicine) the inevitability of death in my situation would be to deny ourselves the opportunity to uniquely experience God. I believe that if we will seek God, even on the road to death, he will meet us in amazing and unexpected ways that are not open to us in a life filled with health.

This is not just physical death. In the last few months I have seen much death in my life. Death of my dreams and ambitions. Death of my self-confidence and my physical appearance. Death of my likeable personality. Death of "meaningful" occupation of my time.

One of the most difficult deaths in my life has been the death of incorrect beliefs. For example, I see now that I have subconsciously believed that I somehow need less of God's grace because I am a good person and have "succeeded" in life. Well, my "success" was taken away in the blink of an eye. What does it matter that you have University education, a happy marriage, wonderful children, fulfilling work etc, when death looms at age 26?

Other than some nice sounding obituary and a teary funeral, who will think of my successes after I am dead? Will I go to heaven and appear before God and hear him say, "Good job Jessica, you got an A+ in Human Anatomy and Physiology back in 2002." Or how about, "Jessica, because you bit your tongue and did not scream at James when he made you angry, you will make a wonderful addition to heaven." No. None of it. When I go to heaven, God will see me standing before him with my Death Warrant stamped "Paid in Full by Jesus", and that will be my ticket in.

I now realize that I have believed I need less of God's grace than others I know because I have spent my life making the "right choices". I never would have been able to recognize this in myself before. We all know people whose lives seem hopeless because they have made bad choices. It just seems like some people have so many problems that nothing could ever help them. The stripping away of all my "rewards" has shown me that nothing makes me good enough for God--not even spending a lifetime making the right choices! It was altogether too easy to strip me down to the same "level" as those people whose lives seem hopeless. In a matter of moments I had as many problems as they do, despite 26 years of making right decisions. All the things that I worked so hard for have no meaning when death feels so close. I have received many "rewards" for making good decisions, but the I may not have the lifetime I need to enjoy them.

Anyway, all of that was a side note to what I am trying to say (I haven't had a good rambling blog in a while!). If James and I had not chosen to embrace the potential that death lies at the end of this journey, I would have missed out on the Death of Me, as well as the deep revelation that my salvation lies only in Jesus Christ, in whom I live and move and have my being. Life does not come from my successes or my obedience. Life comes from Jesus Christ.

So far, Death has been a huge part of my journey. But in that blog entry back in July, I wrote that there were two aspects to this journey. Death was one aspect that could not be denied, but the other aspect was Faith, Hope and Love. I have talked a lot about Faith and there is a lot of Love, but there has not been much for Hope in my life. As I have walked through the "Valley of the Shadow of Death" these last months I have never been able to bring myself to think about the future.

Friday as I sat in the doctor's office, with sudden and unexpected feelings of joy, peace, and gratitude, I felt as though God had suddenly given me the gift of Hope. He brought to my attention a dream that I have had for the last eight years. I have written it off as impossible, and therefore not pursued it. Naturally, it seems even more impossible now than it did before...

I want to be a doctor!

This is long goal - so long that it exceeds the 4.5 year life expectancy that has been thrust upon me by Krang. This is more ambitious than any of the other options above that I have considered (and I wrote most of them off as too ambitious). But having seen so much death in my life, I see this dream very differently now.

It doesn't matter if I succeed or not - if I become a doctor or not. It doesn't matter if I die somewhere in the process or if medical schools don't accept students who have a "Krang" that might kill them before they graduate. Pursuing my dreams is not what gives meaning to my life. Jesus gives meaning to my life. Whether I believe it or not, he is the force that sustains me. I think that the purpose to pursuing this dream would be to provide a crucial balance to my life. So far it has been important for me to walk the path of death and allow myself to be prepared for death. However, pursuing this dream would be to walk the other side of this journey and allow myself to be prepared for LIFE. Physically speaking, I don't know which one lies around the bend in my near future, but I realized on Friday that I need to ready for both.

I also realized that this is not something that is unique to me. In the Christian life we are called to walk both in death and in life. To die with Christ so that we can live with Christ.

Practically speaking, my Nutrition degree can be used as an undergrad to enter Medical School. However there are a few courses I need to take to get in that were not required for Nutrition. So, we'll leave medical school for later. For now, I will get those courses. When I finish those, we'll look at the next step.

In the meantime, speaking of encouraging developments, some of my hair is starting to come back. Slowly but surely a soft baby fuzz is coming back in the less radiated areas. It is extremely soft and I find myself wanting to touch it all the time. But then I get scared that I'll make it fall out again if I touch it too much. Its like receiving a symbol of restoration. What a beautiful thing.

Bare Headed

I have often thought over the years that if anyone were to read my journals, they would think that I was constantly a basket case... and that was long before I was diagnosed with a Krang! But the truth of the matter is that it is the easiest to spill your guts when your guts are spilling out of you. In a sense, this blog has become a bit of a journal. A number of times I have wished that I wasn't writing my junk out on here, but for the most part it has been a good thing. On a number of occasions it really has kept me from turning into a recluse and it has kept me accountable to others when I feel unable to express myself.

It is tempting to feel embarrassed that I have laid myself out on the table so many times, but I think that this is a pitfall that we often struggle with as Christians, that is, NOT laying ourselves out on the table. Pretending to be okay when we are not okay. Christians are supposed to have it together after all, even with each other. But I think that this encourages a level of hiddeness that makes it easy to keep others out of the more "sensitive" areas of our lives. As difficult as it is, I think that many of our most embarrassing problems would become smaller if only we spoke about them to others. For the record, I don't mean yelling from the roof tops (although I suppose I could be accused of doing that).

I can't describe how much relief I have felt when I speak about what goes on inside of me, instead of carrying the heavy burden and hoping it will go away. I haven't spoken of nearly all of the things that I struggle with on here (then I really would seem like a basket case), but I have a small group of people that I have made the choice to be very open with. One reason is so that I don't become weighted under heaviness, and the other is so that others can speak good things and scriptures into my life. Its like a breath of fresh air to hear words like this: "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day." (2 Corinthians 4:16). These days all the inspiring words of people have nothing compared to a well placed verse, or praying together with people (even if it has nothing to do with me).

Speaking about openness, here are some pictures that I have not wanted to put up on the blog for several months (let's go whole hog). For those of you who have seen me walking around with the classic chemo cap but with some hair peeking out, here is the full image of what my hair looks like right now. Keep in mind that this is a result of the radiation beam and not from the chemo. I only cover it when I leave the house, but there have actually been a few times that I have forgotten. Someone actually complimented me on my haircut and I had to pause to wonder what look they thought I was copying. Friar Tuck? Forest Gump? An army boot wearing feminist?

This bald patch certainly makes for a cold head however. We still don't know if it is permanent or not. Apparently it could take up to six months to reappear if it does. It came out in the third week of my radiation (first week of Sept)... all at once. It was not a gradual process. I was in the shower and when I pulled

my hand away it looked like a bear paw. I kept washing and every time I took my hand away there was more and more hair. The patch got a little bigger over time, but for the most part it all

happened in the space of ten minutes. Now, I plan on letting it grow regardless of whether or not the patch comes back and perhaps the rest of my hair will cover it a little. Maybe someday I'll be rich and I'll get extensions on the fuzzy little white hairs that are still there.

In other news, the boys are getting very pumped for Christmas and they are also really enjoying the snow that has been dumping on us for the last two weeks. Last week when we were at the mall they thought it was quite fun to sit on the lap of the man in red with the huge beard and tell him what they want for Christmas.

They have also discovered candy canes. Everyday, both of them show more and more signs of growing intelligence and take me by surprise.

That's all for today!

Drama Queen

I hardly know how to put to words what is inside of me. I know that I can't express it verbally. People ask me how I am doing and I open my mouth wanting to say what's inside, but the only thing that comes out are reassurances. The truth is that I'm suffocating, but I have no idea how to say it. Something broke in me a few days ago. The dam of discontent came crashing down and I am now churning around in the foamy waters. Very dramatic I know, and somewhat humiliating to know that people who know me are reading this. But I have to write it, because it doesn't work when I try to say it.

Regardless of what I know to be true, I continue to measure my value by what I am doing (or not doing). I long to be a part of the world again, but since I have nothing to do but stay at home, I find myself curling up into a tiny hard ball - away from people, and away from myself. I want to cry but my eyes are dry. Dear God what happened to my life! I don't want to be hard! I don't want to be a basket case! I feel like I'd be happy if I was doing something, but maybe I'm just fooling myself. Apparently I've got years ahead of me... is this really what I am going to do? Nothing?

I can't say what I want to say, so here it is in writing, because I don't want to become a recluse. I feel like I am drowning. Please pray for me. Something has to give.

Murder Mystery!

This evening, James and I sent out the following letter to some friends and immediate family.

Sir James Basswood Yaardley III, 9^th Earl of Hampshire, empowered to speak on behalf of her Imperial Majesty, the Queen Empress Victoria,

Shanghai, November 13, 1880

Dear Respected Person,

A tragic and horrifying event has taken place at the St.Joseph’s Mission in the village of Xiao Dongxi, Zhejiang Province. A priest was found brutally murdered. With regards to the investigation of this incident, you have certain personal vested interests in seeing that the matter is settled “properly”.

This incident has led to grave and exaggerated misunderstandings between the Majestic British Empire and the Imperial Qing Court of China.

In the interest of preventing war and promoting peace and international goodwill, I, James Basswood Yaardley, have been sent to Shanghai to investigate this atrocious event. You, Honoured Person, are invited to attend a dinner party on Her Majesty’s own yacht on the night of December 31. 2010, beginning promptly at 9:30 pm.

Refusing to attend will cast immediate suspicion on your person, and on your ancestors for generations to come. Please confirm that you will be in attendance with my dear wife, Baroness Hedwig of Bremerhaven, at your earliest possible convenience. You will be briefed as to how your are connected to this crime within two weeks before the dinner.

Most Respectfully Yours,

Sir James Basswood Yaardley III, 9^th Earl of Hampshire

That's right! James and I are writing a murder mystery for New Year's Eve. So far we are having a darn good time of making it up! The plot is very mysterious indeed and we have a wide spread of characters. If we could, we would invite more people, however it is already very complex to write a plot for 15 people!

Here's a little taste of our characters! We have a Cardinal sent by the Vatican to investigate the incident. We have a traditional Chinese doctor. We have a Formosan pirate. We have a US Martial. We have a Taoist monk, a peasant washer woman, an American opera singer, and even the Empress Dowager of China herself!

Who done it?

My Life - Handed Back on a Platter

I had another doctor's visit today in which my life for the next two years was outlined for me - five days of chemo per month for the next two years and an MRI every three months. Fairly noninvasive. We won't know anything more about the nature of my tumor until we have had several of those MRI's As for the rest of it... "Don't worry about it!" says my doctor. Resume normal life! No need for constant supervision! Yes of course you can fly on an airplane by yourself!

Of course this is good news, but it does leave me feeling a little lost. Resume my life after so many months of being told to take precautions? The life I had before this doesn't really exist anymore. I can't resume that life, as ideal and pleasant as it was. Truth be told, I'm puzzled and a little angry to be told to resume life after the roller coaster we've been on.

I am very seriously considering looking for some type of paid employment, but I'm not sure what is open to me. "Having my life back" brings up more questions than answers, and I find myself more anxious than I have been for weeks. Its not that I enjoyed being an "invalid", but at least then I knew which doors were open and which ones were closed. I suppose it is easy to put your faith in "knowing", even if that knowledge is not very good. I suppose I just need to get used to the fact that I will never "know", and put my faith in God... yet again.

Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.