The 2-year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis is quickly approaching. Technically, I’ve been cancer-free since my surgery in 2014, but I have only been cancer-free, on paper, since February of this year.  Having a test result saying there is “No Evidence of Disease” (NED) was like breaking through the tape at the end of a grueling marathon. It’s done, it’s over, and you can breathe easy and relax.

However, in my head, my belief in my “no cancer” diagnosis comes and goes with each new ache and pain that hangs on for too long. The chance that my cancer will show up again somewhere else in my body is a forever possibility, and faced with this reality I have two choices: give into a crippling fear, or live with my eyes continuously on Jesus.

In all honesty right now I can only imagine the latter, but the crippling fear creeps in every now and then. However, when I allow the ‘what-ifs’ to collect in my brain Dave reminds me that I am alive and that is what matters!  I have a hope for tomorrow that is born of gratefulness for today, and gratefulness for today comes by the grace of God.

James 1:2-4 says “Consider it pure joy my brothers when you face trials of many kinds, because the testing of your faith develops perseverance and perseverance must complete its work if you are to be mature and complete not lacking anything.

Pure joy seems like an impossibility when faced with the trials of cancer but by the grace of God I can always find the silver lining to every cloud.

I may have some unsightly scars, but I’m thankful for the skilled surgeon who cared about what I would look like. I have a “fat arm” as one side-effect of treatment, but am thankful for the cumbersome arm pump that is a crutch for my lymph system. I’m on medication for the next 10 years and even though I don’t like how it makes me feel, I am thankful that I have a long term treatment plan.

Radiation has irreparably damaged my skin and will continue to for years to come but I am thankful for the technology that killed the cancer cells.  And the hot flashes, well, I haven’t found a reason to be thankful for those yet but maybe… someday.

When I dwell on all the reasons I have to be grateful and joyful, there is little room left for fear. God knows the future He has for me and that security is the silver lining to everything.

In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.                                      Proverbs 16:9

Today Dave and I planted a small, slow-growing, Japanese maple. Will I be here to enjoy its beauty when it is big enough to give shade? Only God has the answer to that but I will choose to keep on just living the thing with a hope for the future that only Christ can give.

HAPPY EASTER FROM THE TEAM AT JUST LIVING THE THING!

Can we begin to think we know what God is doing, how He is doing it, or why? Can we fathom when He will answer a prayer, or how, or who He may use to answer it?

I saw a Facebook post this week that said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” “That’s a good one,” I thought, but the truth of the matter is; I do it all the time.

You see at a very young age I began to believe that I was the only one who could hold it all together. If I didn’t then everything around me would fall apart. Tall order for a child, but I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders.

This went with me into adulthood, marriage, and parenting. Only in the last ten years have I been able to let go and allow my Lord to take that huge burden and surrender it all to Him. This has been so freeing. Not that I really ever had control, but I had the illusion of control, and some habits die hard.

Being the parent of adult children ages 18 to 20 is very stress-inducing.  They can make so many mistakes that could affect the rest of their lives in positive and negative ways. I mostly seem to focus on the negative ways.

But I pray.

When I feel the need to control rear its ugly head, I give it all back to the Father and ask Him to parent my children.

… “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man. The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9

I look at the verses above and wonder, “What am I thinking?”  I do not have the mind of the Lord. I do not know His ways, His thoughts. They are so much more than my teeny tiny little brain could ever comprehend. So, why do I obsess, ruminate, or worry. God’s got my kids. I just need to lift them before the Father who calls them His children. Did you catch that? His children.

Just tonight during a great conversation with one of my kids, I listened as they told their story, but at the same time I watched the beautiful tapestry I could see being woven right before my eyes, by the hand of the Great Creator. Wow, what a masterpiece!

God used some strands of my life, some good experiences, and some painful experiences, but He used them and wove them in a way that was so beautiful and amazing that I cannot look at some of those experiences in the same way ever again. He is answering all  my prayers, He is in control.

So amazed by God’s wondrous faithfulness as I am just living the thing!

Recently I felt compelled to obey God in a small, but annoying way.

I was taking a break from an activity and wanted to zone out. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I just wanted to be quiet and regroup. I pulled out my phone to play a game. I don’t like playing boring games on my phone, but there is safety when I stare at my phone. It is an unspoken sign to people that I don’t want to talk. Please, you know this is form of nonverbal communication. If someone is on their phone, you don’t try to start a conversation with them, show some respect!

Well, I had been feeling like God wanted me to talk to someone.  I see her around the same time every day; the exact time that I’m trying to have peace and quiet. One day last week we were in the same room, no one else was there, and since we were both on our phones there was no obligation to talk. It could have been a perfect situation, except I kept hearing that little voice telling me to put down my phone and start a conversation with this lady I didn’t know. It was really irritating.

I finally… partially… obeyed, and while looking at my phone, noncommittally asked how her day was going. It was fine. And there was awkward silence. I held out for about 20 seconds before I was finally all in, obeyed that little voice, put my phone down, and tried to engage some sort of conversation. I had no idea what I was doing or where this was going.

After several awkward starts and stops and long silent pauses, out of nowhere she started talking about her daughter’s health problems, problems with her ex-husband, and all that had been going on in her life for the past year. It was like someone took their thumb off the garden house and her story was rushing out like water that had been held back.

I just sat there and listened.

I don’t know how this fits in to God’s big plan, but I do know that I wished I had cared enough to put my stupid phone down sooner. It’s crazy how technology can save lives, but also distract us from souls. It seemed like this lady didn’t have many people to talk to, and don’t we all know what it’s like to feel alone? And the feeling is amplified when going through something difficult, isn’t it?

In my experience sometimes all it takes to relieve some of that weighty feeling of ‘aloneness’ is to have someone give you their attention, to care, to listen. Often, that’s why we are willing to pay therapists so much for an hour of attention, right? I learned (again) this week that I’m not often called to do “big” things, but that sometimes living this thing means listening and obeying in the seemingly little things. Someone’s heart may depend on it.

I have been facing what seems like an impassable river; one needing to be parted by God Himself. He asked me to cross this river years ago, but I pulled back, afraid and insecure because of all the “what ifs”.

The children of Israel faced two impassable rivers during their exodus and if I were to place myself in their story I see two different ways I can pray as I face my own river.

The Red Sea is the place of panic prayer. The Israelites were angry, afraid, and thinking they were better off in Egypt. I’m no different. All I see are enemies, and no visible means of escape. I cry out to God, but my prayer is laced with fear, anxiety and, unbelief. I know He can, but will He?  God parting the waters should have removed all doubt but they continue to wander for forty years in unbelief.

Fast forward to the River Jordan, overflowing its banks, and as impassable as the Red Sea. Even if they could cross, enemies await on the other side.

This is the place of risky prayer.

Do I dare ask God for that much help? Am I somehow overstepping my faith boundaries and imposing on His good graces? After all, I’ve been wandering in unbelief over this issue. Why should God make a way into the Promised Land for me?

As I read the two stories, I notice a distinct difference in their attitudes. At the Jordan, I don’t see the complaining and chaos characterizing the Red Sea episode. There are no bold proclamations of faith; just a subdued group listening for Gods instruction. Their focus is not on their enemies, the raging river, or the lack of a bridge. They are fixed on God, determined to obey this time.

These are the children of the ones who died in unbelief in the wilderness. They are a new generation of believers, allowing God to strip away their reproach. God doesn’t say throw yourselves into the water and it will part, He says wait for the Ark. It will go first.

The Ark of the Covenant going before the children of Israel at the Jordan River is a beautiful and tangible symbol, representing the holy place where God and man come together in prayer and covenant and purity. It holds all that is holy, and is in essence, the image of Emmanuel – God with us. The Ark represents His presence.

My choice for the future seems risky, but hopeful. Old patterns tell me to be anxious and afraid of new ground, reminding me of my past; my failure to step out in faith. But those accusations don’t take grace into account. Believing prayer changes things. And grace gives do-overs.

Emanuel goes before me. He steps into the water first. I am choosing to believe He is able to part rivers and take down walls. I’m trusting Him. This time I will say yes and go forward…just living the thing.

Helpless and hopeless!

One of my close friends describes it as feeling adrift in a vast ocean with absolutely nothing in sight.  Another said it was like being surrounded by miles of desert in blazing heat with no sign of relief, and I will never forget my favorite DIY genius friend telling me she felt like a speck in the bottom of an empty, blindingly white, 5-gallon paint bucket…and I totally got it!

I only wish my picture of ‘Helpless and Hopeless’ was as sanitized, artistic, or even poetic.  But even now what I see is me, face down on threadbare carpet, wailing like a wounded animal, tears streaming down my face, and rivers of snot pouring out my nose.

There were bills I could not pay, my children had legitimate needs that I could not provide, and wounds from years of verbal and emotional abuse were still exposed, raw, excruciating, yet invisible to the world.  The sting of betrayals piled on for good measure, and a stamp big enough to cover my entire life reads “FAILURE!” in blood-red letters, and the largest font-size possible.

Fast forward about a decade and one child is facing surgery, my six year-old stove is dead per PG & E, the car needs hundreds of dollars of repair and a chance encounter triggers memories of the abuse, but… I’m still standing; no tears, and not a drop of snot.   Instead, all I feel is quiet confidence. That’s how I know… that I KNOW.

“But now says the Lord, He who created you, … ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you…’” Isaiah 43:1-4.

I know that every word of God is true because every time I have relied on it for direction, searched it for revelation of who God really is, thrown my life on it in desperation, or leaned into it for comfort, I have never been disappointed or come away empty.

I know that God is my healer, because while the internal scars remain, silent witnesses to all I have experienced, every debilitating pain is gone.

I know that God provides because every need has been met, not on my panic-driven timelines, but often in ways I would never have imagined, and with the kind of creativity I could only wish for.

I know that looking back over my life I am overwhelmed by the concrete evidence that God is faithful, He does not have a measuring stick, He loves me beyond all logic or explanation, and what He wants is for me to love Him back, and keep on…just living the thing.

A couple weeks ago my husband Dave and I visited a local Wildlife Refuge about thirty minutes from our home. Friends said we would be amazed by all the birds and the beauty.  Well, we must have gone at the wrong time because we saw the beauty, but no birds.  Not one.

I had to laugh at Dave because he said he would rather have a shotgun with him than a pair of binoculars.  Apparently the landscape is ideal for hunting pheasants.  I reminded him that it was a wildlife preserve so the birds were protected.  Pointing to the refuge he said,

“They stay there and they’re safe, but over here,” pointing to the next field over, “they are dinner.”  Such a fine line between safety and danger.

That made me think of the provision and protection we have from God when we stay within His refuge.

Years ago, when our kids were little, one family devotion talked about the following verse:

Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. “Honor your father and mother” – which is the first commandment with a promise – “that it may go well with you and that you will enjoy long life on this earth.” Ephesians 6:1-3

Our son Jacob was about 5 years-old and our daughter Kelly was 3, so to help them understand this lesson a little better, I made this poster that I hung in the hall outside their bedrooms.

I wanted them to know that because God loved them He set boundaries to keep them safe. When we choose to obey God and live within those boundaries this brings blessings.  Choosing to live outside them was what we called the danger zone.

Learning to live with rules and self-control is hard for a child and it doesn’t always get easier just because we grow up.  Our sinful nature thinks we know what is right for us, but let’s ask Adam and Eve how that turned out.  From the beginning God set limits for his children because he wants what is best for us. For those who love him, his commands are not a burden but a gift that gives freedom.

“For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments; and His commandments are not burdensome.   1 John 5:3

What freedom and peace there is in knowing the path you are following brings life and the very best that God has for you.

“I am the door; if anyone enters through Me, he will be saved….I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”  John 10: 9-10

For some years we used that poster to help them think about their choices and God’s protection. It was a great visual.  Actually it still hangs in the hallway right at eye level for a 3 and 5 year-old.  They have grown some since then but I pray they always remember the lesson of God’s protection and love for them while they are… just living the thing.

I think I may be succumbing to a chronic case of ‘Sappy’!  I’m not talking about maple syrup kind of sappy, but the quick-grab-me-a-tissue Hallmark channel kind. While this may be frowned upon by today’s society, (and I must admit I have been guilty of that as well), the older I get the more I am leaning right on in to it, running mascara and all.

When I first moved to Modesto, I knew no one. We had moved from a city in the Bay Area where I had lived since Junior High. I knew people, and people knew me. It was not uncommon to run into people I knew at Target or the supermarket, or to see acquaintances while driving around town.

When I first moved here people were kind and friendly, but I didn’t know them. Fast forward 19 years, and the other day I ran into two people I knew (well enough to give hugs to) at Winco, and then driving down the street recognized another couple in the car behind me.

So here’s where the sappy part comes in. It made me tear up a little when I saw the familiar faces in the car behind me (don’t judge!). You see, it made me think about how grateful I am to know people, to be a part of a community. It reminded me of the days when I first came here and longed for a time when I would see someone I knew in the grocery store.

I remember praying, asking God to give me new friends and a new community. And, I remember the first time I ran into someone I knew at the store, there was probably a tear or two at that recognition as well. It was happening, I was building a community. Sappy huh?

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25

It also caused me to think of my relationship with God. There was a time when I thought He was nice and all, but I didn’t know Him. When I got to know Him, I would begin to see Him more and more wherever I went and that made me feel like I belonged. Guess what? I’ve known Him for so long that know I see Him everywhere and that is as it should be.

I am embracing my sappiness as I cry at coffee commercials, as I cry when I see other people cry, and, well, sometimes for any old reason. I guess I am taking literally Romans 12:15 where Paul says to,

 “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

I think it is the Lord living in me softening my hard old heart as I am… just living the thing.

I woke up with huge, painful bags under my eyes this morning. Why? I have been tasked with living authentically, so I confess that crying has recently become a normal part of life.

Also included in this delightful authentic-life package is lack of sleep, no direction, intense hurt, and a dab of hopelessness. Can someone please start playing a violin? But we have all been there, or will be there, right?

Sometimes I experience pain because of what someone has done to me, but sometimes the hurt is compounded when I believed God gave direction, and then didn’t come through for me. Abandonment. So how does one trust God? Who do I really have if the One who lead me down a path seemingly abandoned me? Trust issues are so hard to deal with.

I had a really good friend recently Vox with me (get the app, it will change your life) and she said something profound that gave me peace:

“Adrienne, I think you need to accept two truths right now:

First, you did hear God.  Second, what you heard is not happening.”

Contradictory, right?! But it gave me freedom from having to understand everything. I don’t understand God’s ways. He gives and he takes away. He knows the future, I only know a fraction about this moment. He gives free will, but He also predetermines what is best. I don’t know how that all fits together, but I give up demanding to understand everything in this moment. And in a few minutes when I try to recapture my “right” to know, I’ll have to surrender again.

Last week I was hanging out with a young teenager in our local juvenile detention center. We were talking about Jesus and the subject came up about how Jesus was betrayed by a kiss from a ‘friend’, and even while He was being betrayed, He still healed the ear of one of the men capturing him.

The kid shook his head in disbelief and amazement. How could a man who did so much good, continue to do good after He had been betrayed and abandoned, by those closest to Him? I wondered the same thing. Jesus had been abandoned, and soon after, He cried out on the cross,

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!”

This tells me that Jesus can empathize with heart pain. Do you hear me?! Jesus, Savior, King, can feel my pain because he experienced it to the ultimate extent.

While I have breath, I have reason to give thanks. I have chosen to follow a God that has experienced hurt too, and I will choose to trust him with mine. It is a daily, often hourly, choice. And believe me, sometimes I have to say it out loud, as a declaration, “I choose to trust You right now!” Because while I speak it out loud, my thoughts cannot contradict me. And for today, that’s what it looks like when I’m… just living the thing.

Last month I fixed dinner for some long-time friends. The house was clean, decorated, and the food just needed to be prepared.  Without warning, I could almost hear that foreboding music from a B movie, and a food mutiny took place before my eyes.

Pasta over-cooked itself. Lettuce and tomatoes refused to stay in my hand. Pots with clanging lids jumped out of the cabinets just to rattle me. Italian dressing escaped its bottle and seeped all over my counter. Inanimate objects, like pirates in cahoots against me, headed for the booty of my demise. Being the courageous culinary expert that I am, I wilted on the couch, ready to cancel dinner, and turn on Food Network.

God, I love my friends. What is sabotaging our evening? 

In His kind and gentle voice, Jesus spoke some things I needed to hear in that moment;

“Colleen, you are too worried about the food, you are worried about the conversation.  Truth is, you are actually upset about not being invited to those two weddings, and no friends’ Christmas parties this year, but we will talk about that later.  Basically, you are carrying the weight of self-imposed expectations I never put on you.

You fancy yourself a Mary – sitting at my feet, serene and unmoved – but right now you are acting just like Martha. Stressed, bothered, irritated, and distracted from Me. She came to me in an emotional meltdown over her imaginary what-ifs, and completely lost sight of why I was there. Is this sounding remotely familiar?”

Yes Lord, it is.

I still had 20 minutes, so in an attempt to get off the ledge, I took a moment to read the passage so vividly before my brain. In Luke 10:38-42, Jesus didn’t say:

“Martha, stop everything and go lie down. You deserve a break!”

Rather, He pointed to the real culprit.

“You are worried and bothered about so MANY (unnecessary) things! Just a few things are necessary. Actually only one. And Mary has discovered it.” 

You are right Lord! I have been behaving as though you are not present. I have been more concerned about how I am perceived than about You and the people I love. 

Timidly, I ventured back to the helm of my kitchen. Things didn’t look as bad as they seemed before. I methodically reclaimed each portion of my meal; scraping burnt garlic bread, corralling wayward condiments, and praying for the people that would grace our home in a matter of minutes.

As I did, the meal took its rightful place on the back burner, and our friends became real people with real needs and no checklists.

When they arrived, apart from my slightly askew hair, no trace of drama remained. We had an evening free of marauding intruders and bad music (Pandora helped). At one point while we all were laughing and reminiscing, I sat back in my seat and smiled, inwardly thanking Jesus for each person, and for straightening my priorities…just living the thing.