I'm having an angiogram in the morning, and it doesn't worry me. I had one almost 4 years ago, and it spooked me that time. But this time I feel quite different, and it's all because of what happened the day of that first angiogram.
The angiogram I'm having tomorrow is a precursor to probable open-heart surgery for me in perhaps a few weeks. I have a couple of heart valves that just aren't up to the job any more. But even the prospect of the open-heart surgery is not daunting to me in the long run, and it's all because of what happened the day of that first angiogram.
Maybe you'd like to know what that was. If so, take a look here: http://takingthering.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-god-started-my-cancer-journey_15.html.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Unknown Future, Known God
This is a scary time here in our country, and even around the world. True, many people have been rejoicing in the last few days over the inauguration of President Obama. But that hasn't made the economic crisis go away. I work for one of the most well-known companies in America, generally regarded as safe and secure: Microsoft. But yesterday, two days after the inauguration, Microsoft laid off around 1000 people, and announced that more jobs would be eliminated in the next 18 months. My job is still intact. But who knows what the future holds?
My husband lost his own job four months ago. The non-profit Presbyterian renewal group he worked for was a victim of the economic climate, and had to eliminate several positions. Now I'm our sole breadwinner, working for a company that is planning reductions in staff. And there are so many other families like us.
The papers are talking about the possibility of a second Depression. We're approaching retirement age. What does that mean for us? What does it mean for our children, for our three-year-old granddaughter, or the other grandchildren still to be born? It's easy to feel fear thinking of this possibly cloudy future.
At work yesterday, the Christians at Microsoft were talking via e-mail about the layoffs. Some of them were among those who had been let go. One of our Christian brothers in India sent the words from a poster he used to have. The poster had said this:
Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.
We certainly have an unknown future right now! But we also most certainly have a known God. His constancy, love, and care for us are known from the Bible. But they are also known from our experience with him. I know from going through cancer a few years ago that I can absolutely rely on him to get me through any hard time, to sustain me and support me and give me what I need to get by. He doesn't leave us when we're in need.
In fact, God's goodness and love are so great that, when I had cancer, I found that he can make a hard time into a time of blessing and relationship with him that can bring joy beyond imagining. It was a surprise; I hadn't expected it. But it was a wonderful surprise! Others have had this same experience. The hardness of the hard time fades away next to the joy--the joy that comes with the deepening of the relationship with God that happens in the hard time.
So, yes, he is a known God, and what is known about him is so wonderful that, when I read that sentence, "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God," it actually gave me a thrill. It made me remember that I don't need to fear. In any future, he'll be there. So even if that future is hard, we'll have him with us, and that will make it good.
My husband lost his own job four months ago. The non-profit Presbyterian renewal group he worked for was a victim of the economic climate, and had to eliminate several positions. Now I'm our sole breadwinner, working for a company that is planning reductions in staff. And there are so many other families like us.
The papers are talking about the possibility of a second Depression. We're approaching retirement age. What does that mean for us? What does it mean for our children, for our three-year-old granddaughter, or the other grandchildren still to be born? It's easy to feel fear thinking of this possibly cloudy future.
At work yesterday, the Christians at Microsoft were talking via e-mail about the layoffs. Some of them were among those who had been let go. One of our Christian brothers in India sent the words from a poster he used to have. The poster had said this:
Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.
We certainly have an unknown future right now! But we also most certainly have a known God. His constancy, love, and care for us are known from the Bible. But they are also known from our experience with him. I know from going through cancer a few years ago that I can absolutely rely on him to get me through any hard time, to sustain me and support me and give me what I need to get by. He doesn't leave us when we're in need.
In fact, God's goodness and love are so great that, when I had cancer, I found that he can make a hard time into a time of blessing and relationship with him that can bring joy beyond imagining. It was a surprise; I hadn't expected it. But it was a wonderful surprise! Others have had this same experience. The hardness of the hard time fades away next to the joy--the joy that comes with the deepening of the relationship with God that happens in the hard time.
So, yes, he is a known God, and what is known about him is so wonderful that, when I read that sentence, "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God," it actually gave me a thrill. It made me remember that I don't need to fear. In any future, he'll be there. So even if that future is hard, we'll have him with us, and that will make it good.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Whatever
Today I was on the floor again.
Syncopal episode is the term that the doctor uses for it. I just say "I fainted." It happened on Saturday evening when I was exercising, and it happened again today after I walked up some stairs at work and sat down at my desk. Today, once again, I found myself wondering why I had lost control of my thoughts, and then I realized that I was actually down on the floor, waking up.
After the first time, I had gone to see the doctor. That was yesterday, and she had ordered an EKG. When the EKG was done, the nurse looked at the results and said, "It's abnormal, but I don't know what it means." Then she left the room.
A year and a half ago, I was going through breast cancer treatment. Now with the nurse's announcement of an abnormal EKG, it looked like maybe I was going to have another health issue. So I decided it would be a good time to pray.
"Dear God," I started, and then paused, and then the thing that seemed right to me to say as I continued was: "whatever!" And what I meant by that was, "whatever the outcome of this is, whether I have heart problems, or something else, or nothing at all, it's in your hands, God, and I'm OK with that. I don't actually need to ask you for an outcome of any kind, because I trust you with anything. I'll just wait and see what happens and try to be your witness to the people I encounter in whatever the situation is." And although I only used the one word, "whatever", I think God knew what I meant.
The reason I was able to pray this prayer, instead of asking God to keep me from illness or harm, was because of the cancer I had just gone through. He had been with me in a strong and loving way throughout that time, and had shown me in many ways how much he cared for me (see http://takingthering.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-god-started-my-cancer-journey_15.html and http://takingthering.blogspot.com/2007/04/dogs-attitude.html). Because I knew this, I had suddenly realized, when I started to pray, that I had no fear of any new illness.
The doctor then came in and told me that the EKG looked identical to the one I had two years earlier, so it wasn't really abnormal after all. However, she wanted me to see a cardiologist. And I was actually in the process of making that appointment when I fainted again today. And Microsoft Security came, and the paramedics came, and off I eventually went to the ER!
Now I'm sitting in a hospital room, admitted for observation and tests, and I still feel the way I felt when I prayed yesterday: I am not afraid. A new illness might even be a new adventure in learning more about the depth of God's love. For what can separate us from the love of Christ? Certainly not illness. "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39).
No, I still say, "Dear God--whatever! I'm with you, and that's all that matters."
Syncopal episode is the term that the doctor uses for it. I just say "I fainted." It happened on Saturday evening when I was exercising, and it happened again today after I walked up some stairs at work and sat down at my desk. Today, once again, I found myself wondering why I had lost control of my thoughts, and then I realized that I was actually down on the floor, waking up.
After the first time, I had gone to see the doctor. That was yesterday, and she had ordered an EKG. When the EKG was done, the nurse looked at the results and said, "It's abnormal, but I don't know what it means." Then she left the room.
A year and a half ago, I was going through breast cancer treatment. Now with the nurse's announcement of an abnormal EKG, it looked like maybe I was going to have another health issue. So I decided it would be a good time to pray.
"Dear God," I started, and then paused, and then the thing that seemed right to me to say as I continued was: "whatever!" And what I meant by that was, "whatever the outcome of this is, whether I have heart problems, or something else, or nothing at all, it's in your hands, God, and I'm OK with that. I don't actually need to ask you for an outcome of any kind, because I trust you with anything. I'll just wait and see what happens and try to be your witness to the people I encounter in whatever the situation is." And although I only used the one word, "whatever", I think God knew what I meant.
The reason I was able to pray this prayer, instead of asking God to keep me from illness or harm, was because of the cancer I had just gone through. He had been with me in a strong and loving way throughout that time, and had shown me in many ways how much he cared for me (see http://takingthering.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-god-started-my-cancer-journey_15.html and http://takingthering.blogspot.com/2007/04/dogs-attitude.html). Because I knew this, I had suddenly realized, when I started to pray, that I had no fear of any new illness.
The doctor then came in and told me that the EKG looked identical to the one I had two years earlier, so it wasn't really abnormal after all. However, she wanted me to see a cardiologist. And I was actually in the process of making that appointment when I fainted again today. And Microsoft Security came, and the paramedics came, and off I eventually went to the ER!
Now I'm sitting in a hospital room, admitted for observation and tests, and I still feel the way I felt when I prayed yesterday: I am not afraid. A new illness might even be a new adventure in learning more about the depth of God's love. For what can separate us from the love of Christ? Certainly not illness. "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38-39).
No, I still say, "Dear God--whatever! I'm with you, and that's all that matters."
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
How God Reminded Me He Would Be With Me
May 15 is an anniversary for me. On May 15 a year ago, I had my last treatment for breast cancer. Remembering this made me think that I would like to tell about how my cancer experience began.
In the summer of 2005 I happened to mention to my daughter that my inner elbows ached whenever I exercised or took my migraine prescription, and she urged me to tell my doctor. This led to an EKG, which looked pretty good, but still my doctor wanted me to see a cardiologist. Meanwhile, I was called back from my routine yearly mammogram because they had spotted something suspicious.
So, I went through two series of escalating tests: stress EKG and electron beam tomography; and second mammogram and ultrasound. Finally a weekend came in September 2005 where, on the Friday, I had a needle biopsy on the lump that had been found. Then, on the Monday, I was scheduled for an angiogram (cardiac catheterization) for my heart.
The cardiologist had told me that there was a slight risk of death associated with the angiogram. Normally I have no fear of death, ever since, at the age of 20, I first read The Last Battle in the Narnia series. What could be better than to go on to a place more beautiful than the most beautiful place on earth, and be with God? But the upcoming angiogram spooked me for some reason. Perhaps it was because our first grandchild was due to be born in November, and I didn't want to miss knowing her. At any rate, I was nervous. The night before, we went over to Seattle (we live in a suburb across Lake Washington). As we crossed the floating bridge, I remember looking at one of my favorite sights, the lights on the other floating bridge, strung across the lake like a mile-long strand of jewels, and thinking that I might never see them again.
The next morning the angiogram went smoothly, and the cardiologist found that my heart was perfectly healthy (so my arm aches are just a mystery). Afterwards as I was recovering from the sedatives they had given me, I discovered that the two nurses who were caring for me were Christians, and that each of them sang in their church choirs, just like I do. I thought that this was an amazing coincidence, because there are not many Christians in the Seattle area. It then hit me that God was telling me something. He was actually saying to me, "You were scared of this angiogram, but you had forgotten how in control I am. I am so in control that I can arrange, in an area and in a time when there are very few Christians, that not just one but both of your nurses will be choir-singing Christians."
Then I went home to recover further from the angiogram, and about two hours later, my doctor called to tell me that I had breast cancer.
Although at first I was a bit overwhelmed by the news, it was not long before I remembered the message God had given me that morning. The striking thing about it was God's timing. He had let me know that he cared about me and was in control BEFORE I got my cancer diagnosis. I still didn't know if everything would be fine or not; I still knew that I could die of this cancer. But I did know the most important thing of all, and that was that God was with me in the midst of it. That set the tone for how I experienced the whole following 8 months of cancer treatments.
As it turned out, the surgery that I had removed all the cancer I had at the time, and with chemo, radiation, and hormonal therapy, I have an 85-90% chance of being cancer-free in 10 years. So I have been blessed in the outcome. But even had it not been so, if I had only a slim chance of survival, I would still be able to go forward confidently, because God has assured me that he is with me and loves me. And I really didn't need a special message from God to tell me that. He has told us that throughout the Bible. He has told us that in the person of his son Jesus. I just hadn't remembered that very well before my angiogram. Since God was kind enough to give me a little extra help to keep it in mind, I want to share it with everyone else. There's nothing so bad or scary that God can't be with us in it and bring joy to us in the midst of fear and pain. That was certainly my experience with God in the midst of cancer.
In the summer of 2005 I happened to mention to my daughter that my inner elbows ached whenever I exercised or took my migraine prescription, and she urged me to tell my doctor. This led to an EKG, which looked pretty good, but still my doctor wanted me to see a cardiologist. Meanwhile, I was called back from my routine yearly mammogram because they had spotted something suspicious.
So, I went through two series of escalating tests: stress EKG and electron beam tomography; and second mammogram and ultrasound. Finally a weekend came in September 2005 where, on the Friday, I had a needle biopsy on the lump that had been found. Then, on the Monday, I was scheduled for an angiogram (cardiac catheterization) for my heart.
The cardiologist had told me that there was a slight risk of death associated with the angiogram. Normally I have no fear of death, ever since, at the age of 20, I first read The Last Battle in the Narnia series. What could be better than to go on to a place more beautiful than the most beautiful place on earth, and be with God? But the upcoming angiogram spooked me for some reason. Perhaps it was because our first grandchild was due to be born in November, and I didn't want to miss knowing her. At any rate, I was nervous. The night before, we went over to Seattle (we live in a suburb across Lake Washington). As we crossed the floating bridge, I remember looking at one of my favorite sights, the lights on the other floating bridge, strung across the lake like a mile-long strand of jewels, and thinking that I might never see them again.
The next morning the angiogram went smoothly, and the cardiologist found that my heart was perfectly healthy (so my arm aches are just a mystery). Afterwards as I was recovering from the sedatives they had given me, I discovered that the two nurses who were caring for me were Christians, and that each of them sang in their church choirs, just like I do. I thought that this was an amazing coincidence, because there are not many Christians in the Seattle area. It then hit me that God was telling me something. He was actually saying to me, "You were scared of this angiogram, but you had forgotten how in control I am. I am so in control that I can arrange, in an area and in a time when there are very few Christians, that not just one but both of your nurses will be choir-singing Christians."
Then I went home to recover further from the angiogram, and about two hours later, my doctor called to tell me that I had breast cancer.
Although at first I was a bit overwhelmed by the news, it was not long before I remembered the message God had given me that morning. The striking thing about it was God's timing. He had let me know that he cared about me and was in control BEFORE I got my cancer diagnosis. I still didn't know if everything would be fine or not; I still knew that I could die of this cancer. But I did know the most important thing of all, and that was that God was with me in the midst of it. That set the tone for how I experienced the whole following 8 months of cancer treatments.
As it turned out, the surgery that I had removed all the cancer I had at the time, and with chemo, radiation, and hormonal therapy, I have an 85-90% chance of being cancer-free in 10 years. So I have been blessed in the outcome. But even had it not been so, if I had only a slim chance of survival, I would still be able to go forward confidently, because God has assured me that he is with me and loves me. And I really didn't need a special message from God to tell me that. He has told us that throughout the Bible. He has told us that in the person of his son Jesus. I just hadn't remembered that very well before my angiogram. Since God was kind enough to give me a little extra help to keep it in mind, I want to share it with everyone else. There's nothing so bad or scary that God can't be with us in it and bring joy to us in the midst of fear and pain. That was certainly my experience with God in the midst of cancer.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Trust
I have been dealing with some worry in recent months. My husband Jim works for a renewal group that has been fixated on by theologically liberal factions in the greater church as the root of all that they consider wrong in the mainline denominations today. They have built up a mythology about his group (IRD) that has taken firm hold among mainline denominational leaders, seminary faculty, the National Council of Churches, etc., and these people believe that Jim and his colleagues are actually not really Christian activists, but instead are ultra-right-wing political operatives bent on destroying the mainline denominations in order to silence their liberal social witness. These false ideas are spreading more and more widely. See www.talk2action.org for many examples.
This has worried me in many ways. I'm afraid that these untrue things will become widely believed and that it will become impossible to refute them. I'm afraid that my friends who are politically liberal will hear about it and will start looking at us askance. I'm afraid that if Jim ever wanted to leave IRD and do something else, such as return to pastoral ministry, he would be unhireable, because working for IRD would attach a stigma to him and everyone would be suspicious of him. And my worries go on.
Yesterday I was thinking about it more intensely due to a letter sent to all SMU faculty in which some other website had been falsely attributed to IRD. We had been to Maundy Thursday service, and I was getting to bed late. I usually read the Bible every night before bed, but last night I thought I might skip it, since I'd read Scripture during the Maundy Thursday service. But I kept getting this nudge feeling that I ought to read it anyway. So I decided that if God was telling me to read the Bible, I would. And here's what I found: I'm currently reading through the Psalms, and in the Psalm I had gotten to last night, the Psalmist was writing about people lying about him, and how God would eventually make sure that justice would be done about that, and that meanwhile God would bless those who had been lied about. Wow! How appropriate was that? I was very grateful to God for nudging me into reading that Psalm and showing me that he cared about our situation.
However, today I was still in worry mode. Tonight, though, during our Good Friday service, during the last of the seven meditations on the seven last words of Christ, our senior pastor was speaking about "Into your hands I commit my spirit." He talked about how Jesus was trusting God, and about how God could be trusted even when the situation felt the least like God was trustworthy. And I started remembering how trustworthy God has always shown himself in my life. He has seen me through breast cancer in a wonderful way, and has done many other good things for me all throughout my life.
I realized that I have been being very inconsistent. All my life, I have always trusted God that I would never lack for anything I really needed, and so I have never really worried about money or jobs. So why didn't I trust him in this situation? And when I started thinking of it that way, the burden lifted. I realized that I can trust him to be with us in this just as much as I have trusted him in any other situation. He's big enough for this problem, too. What a great feeling that was! It's still going to be hard to deal with all these slanders and lies that are being told about IRD. God isn't going to make it easier all of a sudden. There may be rough times in store for us. But I know that I can trust that he is in control, so that it will all come right in the end, and that means I don't have to worry.
Thanks be to God for his great mercy in showing us how he cares for us!
This has worried me in many ways. I'm afraid that these untrue things will become widely believed and that it will become impossible to refute them. I'm afraid that my friends who are politically liberal will hear about it and will start looking at us askance. I'm afraid that if Jim ever wanted to leave IRD and do something else, such as return to pastoral ministry, he would be unhireable, because working for IRD would attach a stigma to him and everyone would be suspicious of him. And my worries go on.
Yesterday I was thinking about it more intensely due to a letter sent to all SMU faculty in which some other website had been falsely attributed to IRD. We had been to Maundy Thursday service, and I was getting to bed late. I usually read the Bible every night before bed, but last night I thought I might skip it, since I'd read Scripture during the Maundy Thursday service. But I kept getting this nudge feeling that I ought to read it anyway. So I decided that if God was telling me to read the Bible, I would. And here's what I found: I'm currently reading through the Psalms, and in the Psalm I had gotten to last night, the Psalmist was writing about people lying about him, and how God would eventually make sure that justice would be done about that, and that meanwhile God would bless those who had been lied about. Wow! How appropriate was that? I was very grateful to God for nudging me into reading that Psalm and showing me that he cared about our situation.
However, today I was still in worry mode. Tonight, though, during our Good Friday service, during the last of the seven meditations on the seven last words of Christ, our senior pastor was speaking about "Into your hands I commit my spirit." He talked about how Jesus was trusting God, and about how God could be trusted even when the situation felt the least like God was trustworthy. And I started remembering how trustworthy God has always shown himself in my life. He has seen me through breast cancer in a wonderful way, and has done many other good things for me all throughout my life.
I realized that I have been being very inconsistent. All my life, I have always trusted God that I would never lack for anything I really needed, and so I have never really worried about money or jobs. So why didn't I trust him in this situation? And when I started thinking of it that way, the burden lifted. I realized that I can trust him to be with us in this just as much as I have trusted him in any other situation. He's big enough for this problem, too. What a great feeling that was! It's still going to be hard to deal with all these slanders and lies that are being told about IRD. God isn't going to make it easier all of a sudden. There may be rough times in store for us. But I know that I can trust that he is in control, so that it will all come right in the end, and that means I don't have to worry.
Thanks be to God for his great mercy in showing us how he cares for us!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
