Looking Above The Waves

I promise this isn't a lame surf analogy.  Just hear me out....

This week, I've been thinking a lot about what is eternal and what is not.  Why do we often care so much about the little things we do?  Why get stressed about some of this stuff?  In DC, we are often surrounded - or bombarded really - by the obsession of impression management.  People scurrying about to do the best they can to impress, wanting everyone to think highly of them, pouring over their social media accounts to post (or not post) the right opinion, or photo, about something, spending hours over the perfect new chic outfit, prizing their own opinion, scanning for opportunities to insert their intellectual prowess to prove their value, constant name dropping and boasting of a plentiful roll-a-dex to show the value of being 'in-the-know'.  I'm certain there isn't a person within the DC beltway that hasn't been subject to this, or hasn't fallen victim to it themselves.  But why?   Who are we actually serving when we do these things?

Recently, I've been reading "Spiritual Depression" by Martin Lloyd-Jones, and no - I'm not depressed.  It is an incredible read.  If you pick it up, and you decide to read only one chapter, I direct to the chapter Looking At The Waves.  (Now, if you love surfing, like me, undoubtedly this will get your attention!)  The story is about Matthew 14:22-31, NIV:

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. When evening came he was there alone, but the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's  ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." "Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." "Come," he said. The Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus.  But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?"

In this, Peter took his sight off of Jesus, and he quickly came into deep trouble.  Peter took his eyes off of Jesus and began looking at his circumstances - he saw the wind, and undoubtedly, he saw the tumultuous waves around him.  He took his focus off of what IS eternal, and he began to sink.  As a result, fear gripped him - a fear he didn't have before, while he was looking at Jesus and stepping out onto the waves.  Jesus was what Peter saw, his gaze above the waves and looking at His savior.

What is also beautiful as Martin Lloyd-Jones writes in the chapter:

"We see Him, Himself, walking upon the waves, though they were stormy and turbulent, and we see Him likewise enabling His servant, the apostle, to do the same." 

The Lord has given us the ability to survive the storm, to survive the turbulent waves.  We need only keep our eyes above the waves and on Him.  When we began to stare at the circumstances around us, the trials we may have, the people we strive to impress, the boyfriend/girlfriend we want, the high opinions of others, the inadequate ways we view ourselves, our raging and jagged pride, even the unfolding of horrific events around us occurring in the world - we take our eyes off of Jesus.  We begin to fret, to toil, to peddle, to worry, to fear, to grow angry, to obsess about worldly things, to manage our image, to grow anxious, to get restless, to take control instead of trusting God - and the results are that we sink, we become overwhelmed just as Peter did.

"...we ourselves produce our own doubts....[Peter] produced his own doubts by looking at the waves...We often lead ourselves into depression, we lead ourselves into doubts by dabbling with certain things which should be avoided," Martin Lloyd-Jones goes on to say in the chapter.

I need this reminder daily, maybe even hourly.  As we go about our day, we are constantly tempted to look down around us; to take our gaze off of Jesus and onto ourselves, or onto our circumstances or both.  This week, I found an old quote on a Christian blog I had read, it said this:

"God has not commanded you to be admired or esteemed. He has never bidden you defend your character. He has not set you at work to contradict falsehood (about yourself), which Satan's or God's servants may start to peddle, or to track down every rumor that threatens your reputation. If you do these things, you will do nothing else; you will be at work for yourself and not for the Lord." - Author Unknown

As I read that, I feel relief wash over me.  A sting of conviction and admission that I have often been the one to jump head first into the trap of impression management before.  But there is the relief that to serve the Lord, I must not look down at the trap - I must keep my eyes above the waves, on Him.  A relief that comes with resting in His sovereignty, trust God wholeheartedly with everything - my life, my work, my reputation, my family, my relationships, my basic needs, my everything.  He is worthy. Anything less would be to dethrone Him as the King over my life.  No one or no thing is worthy of sitting upon the throne of our lives except Jesus.

Martin Lloyd-Jones goes on to write, "That was Peter's fatal error; he looked away from Him. It is 'the fight of faith', you are walking on turbulent waves and the only way to keep walking is to keep looking at Him."

So as we face the news of tragedy in Paris, we face the storms of our lives each day, we face the temptation to serve ourselves over Jesus in our own pride and impression management, we face illnesses, we face a host of fears, and any kind of turbulent waves - we can have confidence in keeping our eyes above the waves.  We will not fall with Him as our constant.  We can be certain, as Jesus said to take courage and not be afraid, we do not need to doubt - our eyes can stay fixed on Him.  We can learn so much from Peter.  We can walk through any storm with our focus on Jesus.

Lord, let us serve you, and not ourselves.  Let us look only to you, and not to any distractions around us. Let us fix our gaze on what is eternal, what is lasting, and what we carry with us from earth into eternity.  Let us look above the waves, at you, our only true Savior.

How It Started Three Years Ago

I didn’t recognize the phone number, but answered it anyway.  It was 4:45 pm on an idle Tuesday afternoon, and I was looking forward to getting out of work to meet a girlfriend for dinner.  It was my physician, “do you have a minute?”  For a second, I couldn’t think of why on earth she was calling me.  Then it registered, maybe something was wrong with my biopsy from six days ago.  She asked me to get a pen to write down what she was about to tell me.  It was a blur, more like hearing white noise.  Phone numbers, measurements, wait, what?  Oncologist. Surgeon. Those are serious words, I was thinking to myself.  Tears started to well up.  My mind flashed to danger of doubting God, and I closed my eyes to silently pray, “God, I never want to doubt for one second that you are good.”  The talking, or white noise, on the other end stopped.  I asked, “so what does this mean exactly?”  The doctor replied following a weighted sigh, “it means you have cancer.”

This was it.  It was that phone call that you never, ever dreamed you’d get.  Especially not at age 30.  I sat back, put down my pen.  I stared at what I wrote, having absolutely no idea what any of it meant.  Tears were streaming down my face at this point.  I had to tell someone.  But wait, should I?  I mean, this will likely freak out some people.  And my parents, how on earth do I tell my parents?  Who do I tell first?  Is there a rank?  Telling everyone sounded incredibly overwhelming.  What if I’m overreacting?  What if this is nothing at all?  Wait, she said cancer.  She said oncologist.  She said surgery.  That’s kind of huge, I think.  I absolutely cannot do this without prayer, from anyone who would offer it.  I needed prayer. 

I told my boss.  He sat with me while I cried.  He sat with me while I picked up the phone and called the hospital phone number that my doctor just gave me.  No answer.  They closed at 4:30 pm, I had just missed them.  He told me I had all the support I needed, to take the time I need, and was incredibly supportive.  The next two conversations were my Mom and Dad, I don’t even remember the order or what I said exactly.  I just remember saying, “I have cancer.”  And wondering, did those words just really leave my mouth?  Am I in a bad dream?  This can’t be real.  I’m too young to be saying that.  It’s not real.  I have no idea what lies ahead, but I know I need God and I need prayer.

That was September 25, 2012.

It’s been three years.  I wish I could tell you that cancer doesn’t impact the rest of your life, but it does.  You can try to compartmentalize it, but that’s like trying to clean up an oil spill with a paper towel.  It doesn’t stay neatly on it’s side of the table.  However, the lasting impact doesn’t have to be bad.

Are there lasting negatives?  Sure.  I have lots of physical scars (and I’m sure some emotional ones too), lungs that have been through way more than they needed to be at my age, lots of scarred tissue, and been on way more drugs than I can possibly remember.  Not to mention that “lab rat” feeling you get after a while.  Oh, and the tremendous shattering cancer places on a number of your relationships, and your career.  The unknown fertility outcome, because let’s be honest, when you set off a nuclear bomb in your body – even your doctors aren’t sure what happens for years to come.  The list goes on.

But…..

I can rejoice.  God is sovereign, and because He is sovereign I can trust that His hands are at work for my good and His glory.  I can trust that my suffering has had a purpose.  I can rest in Him knowing that He is making sense out of what seems like it has no sense.  Birthdays have way more meaning now, not everyone gets to have them.  Small things like traffic, dirty dishes, and getting groceries no longer seem like an annoyance.  Going for a run or a workout now seems like a privilege.  The desire to be right for the sake of being right doesn’t matter anymore.  The definition of “stress” takes on an entirely new and adjusted meaning.  Getting your hair done is way more fun, and a privilege.  You want to love people better.  Failure no longer seems as fatal as you once thought it was, you realize God is there to catch you and sustain you. 

Purpose, with God, your suffering has a purpose.

I had felt convicted back then as I still do that I never prayed for my own healing.  I only prayed for God to be glorified.  I gave my life to God a long time ago, and it is up to Him how He uses it.  Whatever He determines that is, it is my privilege to live it out.  I serve a God that can be trusted, and who loves far beyond we can measure.  Today, there are still risks and tough statistics to live out.  According to the instrument they used when I was 30, I have a 58 percent chance of seeing my 40^th birthday.  (One friend of mine recommended writing a letter to myself to open on my 40^th birthday, I might just do that!)  Every day is a gift.   Embrace it, and embrace God’s unfailing kindness.

If you want to see a glimpse of what my first year with cancer was like, this is a short video (so crazy that it now has over 22,000 views!) that was put together for DC Cancer Consortium:  

Someone who saw it recently asked me, why are you smiling in most of these pictures?  I never noticed it before, but when I thought about those times I remembered that I just knew it was always up to God.  Don’t get me wrong, there were definitely bad days.  But, my grasp of truth never wavered only because my God never waivers. 

It’s been a messy but beautiful three years.  Thankful for every piece of it.  Some of the memories come and go.  Each time I go for a checkup, I know I’m only one test away from being right back in that same chair in the chemo room.  Now to the cancer patient who just got a diagnosis, I would tell you this:  Hold on.  Just hold on.  Hold on to God, as tight as you possibly can.  He will never, ever let you go.  Know that in the midst of circumstances you may not ever understand, you can trust that He will use this for good.  You are directly in His care, and it is so much bigger than you can imagine.  So, hold on.  Hold to His truth, hold on to His grace and mercy, hold on to His wisdom, hold on to Him in your good and bad days.  But, just hold on. 

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. – James 1:17, NIV 

Explaining Veins

I survived.

I showed up for my MRI bright and early this past Thursday, and I had a male nurse named Kokeb there to help me.  He was from Ethiopia, and hoped to take his medical skills back to his home country one day where he could use MRI technology to help people.  (I thought that was cool)  I digress.....  Turns out, my MRI ordered contrast.  I'd never had contrast in an MRI before.  This means they needed to test my kidneys, and then run an IV (womp, womp).  My kidneys were in excellent shape after he tested my blood and creatnin levels.  This mean Kokeb could start an IV.  This was going to be difficult.  You see, since I've had 18 lymph nodes removed and do not have a lymphatic system in the upper left part of my body anymore, everything has to be done on my right arm.  Vaccines, IVs, blood pressure, you name it.  I have only three veins able to take an IV on my right arm, and they are pretty small.  One is on a nerve, which hurts like you would not believe.  One on top of my hand has been by far used the most and is under layers of scarred tissue (it has been stuck over 150 times, I lost count a while back).  The third is where I bend my arm, so it is too easy to bend the catheters.  Kokeb was up for the challenge.

You see, every time I get an IV, I usually have a new nurse and I have to explain this history to them.  Most of the time they get nervous, some freak out and won't do it.  Those nurses usually call their senior counterpart to do it.  Explaining veins is always just a part of the process.  Kokeb went on top of my right hand, off to an even smaller vein (unusual when inserting contrast) and got it on the first try!  We went in the room, I laid on the table.  He put my head in the cradle, closed the top so it was in front of my face now.  He added a mirror for me to look up, like a rearview mirror sort of, so if I looked up at it, I could see him in the exam room.  This actually made me feel a little better!  He gave me these really thick headphones that played classical music (it was actually more like tunes straight out of Gone With The Wind, haha!).  One cool thing about hospital blankets, is that they are usually kept in these heater like things you would have for loaves of bread at Subway!  He tucked me in with two of them, which was awesome because the room is so cold.  I just breathed easy, laid back, closed my eyes, and prayed.  I thought of this verse immediately:

The Lord Himself will fight for you; you need only to be still.  - Exodus 14:14, NIV

And still I was.  I had to be.  After about 15 minutes or so, Kokeb came back in and injected the contrast into me via the IV, which felt cold going in.  I've learned that contrast, while harmless on the most part, still can take a lot out of you.  I always feel pretty tired for a day or two after having contrast.  The doctors encourage me to drinks lots of water after having it, so I'm slamming back full glasses of H2O for the next couple of days.  It felt good to rest over the weekend, even though I was largely unproductive.

I woke up on Saturday to a message from my oncologist.  I knew that was a good sign.  When it's bad, they always call you.  He said my brain was normal.  (A relief to those that had any doubts or questions!  haha!)  yay!  Now I could go on with life for the next year, not worrying about any brain lesions or intracranial metastasis.

So here we go, another work week.  Another week to take on by His grace.

I was talking to my roommates recently, and I think one thing I've started to notice about myself is that I have this great fear of not using every second of my life for a purpose.  Like not the micro-managey type, but wanting my life to count.  Wanting my time to be towards a purpose.  That sounds kind of exhausting, doesn't it?  Maybe it's healthy, but when I think to what the next chapter of my life will look like, I have no idea what to expect.  In some ways, it's good to be open and malleable.  I don't like to get ahead of God, I want Him to align my steps by opening doors and closing others.  I just want to love for His glory.  Then I realized, I'm going to fail at this.  We all do in some way.  None of us are able to love perfectly, we're not God.  Only God is able to love perfectly.  In a way, it's a relief.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.  - 1 John 4:18a, NIV

We love because he first loved us. - 1 John 4:19, NIV

These verses are etched in my heart, and help me to realize it is only by God's help that I can love others with a selfless, radical love.  I'm so thankful God's love is perfect, and He is there to provide wisdom to us and help us to love like Him.  It is so easy to feel like we fail at this constantly.  We're human beings, prone to sin over and over.  God accepts us and loves us not because we earn His love, we are completely incapable of earning His love.  But....He loves us out of His own grace.  Because He chooses to love us.  Despite how we turn our backs on Him each day in each sin, He still reaches for us, He still loves us, He still wants His best for us, He still provides for us, He still chooses to forgive us, He still wants our hearts.   It rocks my world that God still never lets me go.  God welcomes me not because of any good deeds I've done, but because of what He has done on the Cross.  Game changer.

Failing at loving others doesn't feel good.  It feels a little like having a heavy wave (like Mavericks in Northern California....80 foot wave) crashing on you, pushing you deep down into dark, freezing cold water and you can't even figure out which way to swim up.  And as soon as you make it to the surface and catch your breath, you get another wave in the set coming down on you almost as worse as the first.  You're in the impact zone.  BUT......

There. is. hope.

We can follow the One who does love perfectly.  God washes us new each day, as His word says:

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. - Lamentation 3:22-23, NIV (emphasis added mine)

I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you. - Isaiah 44:22, NIV

Literally, I thank God for these beautiful, amazing promises.  Everyday we get a new start with God.  Everyday.  I sincerely pray that I can love like He does, even just a little bit.  A move closer to being less of myself, and more full of Him.  We serve a God who never gives up on us.  With His help, we only get better over time.  He is that kind, that loving, that patient.  Not a minute or second wasted.

A Celebratory MRI

Here comes year three.  On September, 25, 2012, it will be three years since I was originally diagnosed with malignant melanoma.  A deadly, aggressive cancer for those of you just tuning in (I mean, I didn't know what it was even when I was told).  Though in number, three years doesn't seem like a long time ago, that day feels like a blur to me now.

I just had a round of check-ups consisting of CT scans, blood work, skin exams, the full round.  All came back "nothing concerning" (thankfully!) and I *finally* signed up for MyChart, after my oncologist asked me for like the ninth time.  MyChart is this online portal through the Johns Hopkins Hospital network where you can exchange messages with your doctors, see your results after they are posted, keep track of your progress, etc.  I guess that's better than carrying around my piles of medical history in a pink Vera Bradley shoulder bag!  However, it appears one test remains outstanding - the MRI.  I haven't had one since December 2012.  At the time, I think mine was ordered to ensure no cancer cells had skipped my lungs and went to my brain, which is the general progression of melanoma.  Also, they had wanted the test to assess restless leg syndrome possibilities by prescribing me with Mirapex, as it turns out chemo increases your chances for restless leg syndrome.

Anyways, this Thursday at 7:45 AM ET at Sibley Hospital, I will get my MRI.  Now, I'm not too concerned about results.  Sure, its been almost three years since I've had one, and I'm sure someone in my medical team somewhere will find that unnerving in some way.  But to be honest, the tube they stick you in is so darn small and if you are at all claustrophobic, it will drive you crazy.  It's the worst part.  Last time, the MRI was the test I was most nervous about because you are slid into this narrow spaceship-looking, LOUD machine for about 20-30 minutes.  The entire time, I repeated this verse:

But now, this is what the Lord says - he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. - Isaiah 43:1-2, NIV

(Of course, you are robed in none other than the riveting 'hospital gown' look, which is always in season around that place.)

That verse has been a comfort to me time and again.  What a promise!  Comfort takes on an entirely new meaning in an MRI.  I'm constantly remembering what Charles Spurgeon had said:

"When you go through a trial, the sovereignty of God is the pillow upon which you lay your head." - Spurgeon

It really IS such a comfort.  If God is not in control, what hope is there?  Thankfully, we can acknowledge that with God at the helm, our trials are for a purpose - a purpose far beyond what we can even fathom.  Without that hope, what are they for?  To "make us stronger?"  Ok, then what?  My hope is that through trials, I can take comfort knowing that my God can be trusted and it is my sincerest prayer that others can see that God can be trusted.  My hope is that by going through trial, it isn't wasted and that I could somehow have a deeper dependence on God Himself.  My hope is that trial, though painful, could help me learn how to love better and live my life more like Him.  We often have to get outside the box, stretch beyond our limited view of the tiny horizon we see.  God sees the entire horizon, He sees the summit, He sees the beginning and the end.  These trials serve a greater purpose than I can see.  It's in God's hands.

I'm thankful that over the last couple of weeks, I've been able to spend precious time with family and friends.  To me, this is really living.  It's funny how our definitions change over time as they weather life circumstances with us.  As you may remember, in the midst of chemo a couple years ago, I was getting somewhat stressed out every time I'd see another cancer video or commercial about young adults who were dying and would go out and buy their dream car, climb Mt. Everest (or some insane mountain), surf a 25 ft. wave, etc.  Who are these people?!  I was too sick! I physically couldn't do it.  Not even close.  Then my pastor told me a truth I would never forget, he said, "Kristina, you live for so much more than that."

As I sat in the chair in his office, the words sank straight into my heart.  Relief could be felt at my core, a proverbial elephant was lifted from my shoulders.  The pressure I was putting on myself to "really live it up" and what was beyond my physical means, was sliding away.  What a comfort!  Simply loving God, abiding in Him, this was living!  Loving others was the overflow, and a sincere privilege.  Focusing on what is eternal, what has eternal value, changed my perspective entirely.  I wasn't living for myself or for self-indulgence anymore.  My life was given to me by God, and loving Him with it is a sweet gift.  As I turn the corner into another year, I'm excited to see what God has in store - and Lord knows I need Him every step of the way.  Knowing and loving my God better, and learning how to love the people in my life even better awaits another year as long as God keeps giving them to me.  

Maybe Love Is Blind, Not Blond

It's been ages.....and wayyyyy overdue for an update.  Life has been running at full tilt, the type of full tilt where you don't even realize how spiritually dry you are and you are certain there are things in your life that are falling through the cracks (but you can't even remember what they are you're going so fast!).  So let this be my "take a moment and breathe" update.

Over the last few months, I've been racing around doing life and its so easy to become exhausted, forgetful, and half-hearted.  You begin to forget birthdays, emails, voicemail messages, fixing things that are broken, updating finances, and the list goes on.  Your list of "when I have more time, I will do XYZ..." gets longer and longer.  All of this, I can handle with some level of haphazard balancing act, BUT......the one vulnerability that plagues me is how this impacts those around me.  Often times, I think I'm going so fast (and probably what the enemy wants) that I cannot even survey how long its been since I've talked to this family member, or that friend.  I absolutely love the people in my life, and I'm a feeler....so I want to be there for every time that bubbles with laughter, every heartbreak, every milestone, every bad workday, every victory, every well cooked meal, every fun little idiosyncrasy that chimes in throughout the day.  It's sweet, it's the full breath of knowing and being known.  And I recognize, this is how I should live my relationship with God first and foremost.  I could be failing everyone, but if I'm failing Him, my cup runs dry to a point where I'm only running on my own flesh.

We all have sin in our lives, sure, and God knows that makes it so much more difficult at times to love each other well.  To truly, live out:

By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. - John 13:35, NIV

....we need the love of God.  We need His love, vast as the ocean, to wash over us, to equip us, to make us whole, to redeem us, to change us, to well up in our hearts, to strengthen us, to bring us to Him - so we can be poured out to others.  God has a lot to say about love in scripture, and out of our own pride, we often spring to what we think we are not getting or how much we are giving as our eyes flow over His precious words.  It's our human reaction.  A struggle we may battle till God calls us home, how to love others well?  What does it mean to "love one another" so we may be known as His disciple?  What does it look like to be completely poured out, denying of self, so that He may be honored?   I'm inclined to think answers to these questions aren't simple, or maybe they are, but without a doubt - we need God's wisdom to do it for His glory.

Last weekend, I was on an airline flight across the country.  There were three seats in the row, and I sat near the window.  A young couple, maybe in their early to mid-20's, stopped to sit next to me.  The young woman, slender but not skinny, wearing jeans and a white fitted shirt.  She was wearing a backpack, and had beautiful brown hair in pig-tail braids.  She wore glasses, and as I looked down, I noticed she had a white cane guiding her steps.  She was blind.  Her boyfriend, a guy with an athletic build, wearing a windbreaker and khaki shorts, gingerly helped her get settled into her seat.  I was glued to watching this display of care and compassion.  Throughout the flight, they played a game on their tray tables, then chatted, and all the while he would take care of her by helping her put on a light jacket, then opening her small bag of pretzels, and neither of them never complained or looked annoyed.  It was so sweet.  Now, I don't know these people, I don't know if they love Jesus or what, but I was thankful that God allowed me to watch this selfless display of love and kindness right beside me.

This young woman couldn't see.  She couldn't see if her boyfriend was a handsome guy or if he had ten zits that day, she couldn't see if he had been working his biceps at the gym everyday or if he had gray hair, she couldn't see if he had ten scars or yellow teeth.  And he was incredibly taken by her, it was obvious.  To her credit, he was a very handsome guy.  She would rest her head against his shoulder, he would reach to hold her hand.  Then I knew, what she COULD see was this guy's heart, she could see how he cared for her, she could see his patience with her, she could see how he can be trusted, she could see his kindness and gentleness, she could see his selflessness and self-denial, she could see how he loved her, she could see how he truly valued her, and she could see that her ability to not see didn't stop him from being enamored with her affection.  I was absolutely fascinated.

I immediately thought to the classic verse:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, NIV

I know so many times we read over that verse as most of us have read it a million times.  But to stop, and soak in each word, each implied meaning, to marinate in each trait of love....it's world changing.  It changes everyone's world, and everything about the world.  Sure, it may be a tall order, a tough description to strive for, but incredibly worth it.  What is a world without this type of love?  Simultaneously, it is a world without Jesus.  We can know this love by knowing His love for us.  We can live this out only through Him, and because of Him.  It's a beautiful display of His love shattering the small, meager worlds we often create for ourselves.  His is so much  better, it is of a love that promises SO much better.  I want to live out this love, I want to live out His love.  And Lord knows, I am incapable of doing that perfectly everyday.  I desperately need His love.  I desperately need His grace.  What we sign up for is no small task, to love in the way that others will know we are His disciples.  But an eternity of freedom in Christ, to experience this type of love forever, is completely and utterly worth it.

Disclaimer:  I'm blond.

I Was Lost At Sea....(Kind of)

I'm not joking.  Now, I know some of my friends have been waiting for this story to finally pop up on this blog, have a URL of its own, and to hit the internet.  Well, the day has arrived.  The following is a true story, maybe some minor embellishments, but wholly true nonetheless.

In June of 2014, my friend, we'll call her Reba, and I, flew down to the Florida Keys to visit my Dad who lives on Summerland Key, just above Key West.  I have a handful of family that lives in the Florida Keys, and I love going to visit them!  Bringing friends is added element of fun to getting to hang with my family, and of course participate in water sports.

We woke up on Saturday morning, put on swimsuits, cover ups, and hopped into the car to head down to Key West for lunch and to see my cousins (who are more like brothers to me).  We have a sandwich, a pina colada, and decide to stroll down Duval Street looking at the shops.  We visit my cousin Zak at the La Concha where he worked, then decided to get in on the watercraft fun by renting some jet skis down the street.  Reba recommended going for 30 minutes, but I immediately interrupted in this #YOLO moment by insisting on the full fledged 60 minutes per person.  Kindly, Reba was up for an hour of wielding "fun" on the open waterways of the Atlantic.  We slathered down in sunscreen, ditched our shoes and cover ups, put on a life jacket, and climbed aboard our sturdy jet skis.  My Dad decided to sit tight on land, though he is a major water sports enthusiast himself (a water skier, fisherman, surfer, snorkeler, boater, kayaker, he's got it covered!), he couldn't be convinced to join us this time.  A nice guide named Luke from England gave us some pointers on how to operate the jet skis, we circled the inlet and away we went.  Luke led us out to an open area beyond the intercoastal where there was open ocean.  Open water.  (Yea, you remember that movie right?  Don't ever see it, trust me.)

So, we jet around.  Reba was fearless.  Racing around up to 60+ mph, doing tight spins and turns.  I was gaining my bearings, a self-proclaimed adrenaline junky, I was revving up and plowing into wakes and waves.  We raced over to one area where the water was greener.  We stopped, basked in the sun for a few minutes chatting and looking at the sea life underneath our jet skis.  Then we decided we wanted to see more, and we darted over to where this island was located carried by the thought we could see more fish in shallow water.  There was a small inlet on one end of the island, we cruised the jet skis on through at a slow pace of 2 mph looking for fish.  I saw a fish or two.  Reba was cruising around, and I noticed the water was getting rather shallow.  I could only see brownish water to my right (I was facing the island at this point), and then the water was dark for as far as you could see out to the open ocean and past the channel.  My jet ski started beeping and smoking, it was overheated.  Then within seconds, Reba's did the same.  Gah!!!  Sea grass everywhere.  We floated past the island ever so incredibly slowly.  Reba was about 50 feet to my right at this point, both of us floating at the same pace.  I was about 40 feet or so from the island, which stayed in front of me.  It was WAY to shallow to fire up the jet skis and get out of there.

To this day, and I swear, and everyone gives me a hard time for this, I swear, I heard a Florida panther or something in that small island.  (I quickly recalled a story where my Dad had told me those things swim from island to island in the keys....or maybe that was deer, either way, I was convinced I heard it growling in there!)  So at this point, I start to panic.  There was no way I was getting out of there, and NO chance the sea grass would end.  I was convinced that if we could only get to deeper water, we could get the jet skis started again.  I confessed to Reba that I was......strongly concerned.  Ok, I was totally freaked out.  (I'm laughing at this now as I write it!)   I managed to float over to her, and we kept our jet skis together.  What does she do?   She snaps off her life jacket, tosses it on to the front of the jet ski and says, "well, I'm sure someone will be a long soon to rescue us.  I might as well not get any tan lines while we're out here!"  I kid you not!  Sunshine bathing beauty was calm as ever, meanwhile, I'm hyperventilating and near throwing up!  Both of us had no cell phone, the lady at the dock convinced me that they'd get wet and that we should leave them behind.  Terrible advice.  We had no food, no water, we were TOTALLY stuck.  And we were only TEN minutes into our jet ski rental.  You got it, at this point, I'm kicking myself for insisting on renting these dumb things for AN ENTIRE HOUR!!!  What on earth was I thinking?  There we sit.  Jet skis totally overheated, low tide rapidly approaching, in the shark infested waters of the Florida Keys, just waiting for rescue.

Time creeped on, seemed like eternity.  I was supposed to go to dinner that night with my cousins, my Dad and his wife Nancy.  Knowing my Dad was an experienced waterman, I was certain he'd find us before dark.  It was about 3:10 in the afternoon at this point.  No one knew where we were, how would they find us?  Growing up in Florida, I had heard so many times about people who got stranded and waved for help, never getting help because so many people come and go through the channels.  Were we going to just float out to sea?   Did we need to start swimming toward shore?  But there are loads of bull sharks, hammerhead sharks, and barracudas in these waters.  LOADS.  I'm a goner.  I tried flagging down boats strolling by, no luck.  I saw a boat out in the channel, I thought if we could float over to them, we could make it.  Then, the situation got worse.  Low tide struck, we hit the bottom and we stopped moving.  No more floating.  We weren't going anywhere.  The jet skis caught the low tide, and all the sea grass and sponge was super shallow.  We were completely out of control of the situation.  Reba was entirely calm through this entire ordeal so far, purely confident we'd be found.  I was not so confident.  I mean, I couldn't even Google "how to fix overheated jet ski" without an iPhone!  We were doomed.

I needed to pull it together.  Ok, I gave myself a pep talk.  I was going to get off the jet ski.  We were never going to make it to that boat in the distance if we weren't floating and at this point, it was 4:00 pm, our rental was over technically.  So I get down off the jet ski, I could care less about sharks at this point (though dusk is their feeding time), and I decided to drag this massive Yamaha over the sea grass and sand bar over to the deeper water channel.  Reba pleaded with me not to do it, said she'd stay there while I go get help.  I wasn't going to leave her out there!  So this turned into me being calm, and her having a meltdown.  So, minor detail, I had had major surgery about two weeks before this event.  I had about 40 sutures in my chest wall and all other sorts of trauma, I actually wasn't even supposed to be jet skiing.  BUT....water adventures got the best of my temptation.  So there I was, dragging this Yamaha jet ski across the ocean floor and then I decided to drag my friend on hers too.  Reba couldn't bring herself to get off her jet ski in fear of sharks, so I pleaded with her.  I actually said, "I AM BEGGING YOU!"  (which we find hilarious to this day!)  So that did it.  She got off her jet ski, into water that was crawling with sharks at feeding time.  It was nearing 4:30 pm.  Almost 90 minutes that we'd been lost at sea.  So as we're dragging our jet skis over to the channel (they still weren't starting up), I see a guy on a jet ski coming toward us.  I hop on the jet ski and start jumping up and down, waving my arms while yelling.  "HEY!!  OVER HERE!!"  The guy saw us and sped past us.  My heart sank.  He came back around staying in the channel.  He SAW US!!!  We were going home!!!!!!!!!!!  We were rescued!!!  We weren't going to be a sequel to Castaway afterall!!!

The guy was slightly unenthused, evidently this type of thing happens a lot.  He said, "ok ma'am, you need to reach under your jet ski and take out the sea grass."  I did that, hopped on, and it started just fine!  Reba's did the same.  As soon as we were started up, I looked at her, burst out laughing and gave her two thumbs up and said, "Mai Tais are on me!"  She laughed and said, "Bonded for life!"  We survived.  We were lost at sea, for 90 minutes.  While she was thinking of scenes from Unbroken, I was thinking of scenes from Open Water.  Two drastically different outcomes.  Ironically, almost the same exact thing happened to us the next day out at Sawyer Key on my Dad's boat.  It wouldn't start, engine failed.  His cell phone died, his radio died, and all we had were my two cell phones.  We called Tow Boat USA and made it out of there, alive, at dusk.

So, moral of the story is, just trust the Lord.  Half the time we worry about things that don't happen, we think the worst.  We catastrophize outcomes in our minds.  We freak out, panic, get anxious, but the Lord is sovereign.  Often times, we find ourselves in situations - like stranded on a jet ski in the middle of the ocean in shark infested waters - where He is literally all we have, and we find that He is all we need.  I'm still really glad He sent the rescue guy, and Tow Boat USA though!

This Thursday I have a oncological check up and a blood draw.  My four month check up, and I anticipate it will go smoothly.  Of course, prayers are always appreciated, and I'm thankful for each and every one.  

The Aftermath of a Second Chance

I haven't written in a long while, I know.  I'll save a more practical update for the end, but here goes my attempt for an entry.  These entries often end up like random color samples of paint splashed on a wall, and I pray it makes into some kind of art.

About six months ago or so, I watched a movie, did I mention this already?  I watched "A Fault In Our Stars" which is about young adults with cancer.  I don't know how to share this without ruining the movie, but long story short - the main character is dying, throughout the whole movie the viewers know this.  She goes to a support group full of young adults with cancer, they talk, some end up hanging out (because where else do you find immuno compromised people your age to relate to?), and she ends up dating one of the guys in the group who was recovering from a sarcoma.  The guy ends up finding out his cancer has returned in full force, and they have to process the dying part of life together as young people.  She writes his eulogy, and he passes.  Anyhow, I absolutely bawled watching this movie......even for like three hours after it was over.   That's how I knew something was wrong, I think.  At least I thought, but now, I question it.

Have I become softer?  And is this God's design, or do I just really need healing?  I was telling a friend who is recovering from cancer as well this week:

It has also shown me what a way I have to go in emotionally healing from such a trauma.  You just don't realize it in the midst of it all, the reality of addressing thoughts like, "well, this is what the doctor said, I know that it isn't good news and I haven't had good news for a while, but what's the next step?  Let's get on with it."  Seems like in the midst of it we just address the physicality and thankfully just trust God's sovereignty, but there's something surreal about letting words like "surgery" and "cancer" and "clinical trials" and "chemotherapy" and "hospital"  and "oncology" and "nuclear medicine" and "tumor" just fly by you with the speed of light.  We take it on as though it can't phase us, God is sovereign, and He is.  But after the words stop flying by for a while, after you peak your head up out of the trenches to survey the battle raging above you - you begin to realize the weight of the bombs disguised as words flying by you.  It's all a lot, and ones you'd never dreamed you'd hear.  Not now, not in this stage of life.  It takes time to heal.

Maybe, just maybe, cancer is a good thing that happened to me after all.  I've noticed I'm way more hesitant to judge, quicker to give grace;  by God's grace, I have more patience with people who don't understand;  I get less frustrated with others;  my heart hurts for those without jobs or being pushed out of jobs;  my heart hurts for people who have to put their life on hold because illness, divorce, loss, unemployment get in the way;  gossip hurts my heart way more than it used to with a stronger conviction;  my distaste for sin in general has grown;  my thirst for God's word and for prayer has only grown exponentially;  I want to celebrate life's moments more - new babies, engagements, marriages, birthdays, anniversaries, old friends, laughs, smiles, new homes, new recipes, etc.;  I just want my life to count, count for God first and foremost.  I don't know how people do it without Jesus.

Anyhow, so this is what I'm working on.  It's crazy to read about the recent loss of Kara Tippetts, and how she slipped out of this world and into eternity in the arms of an everlasting grace in such a beautiful way.  What's crazy and seemingly more traumatic is that I remember the inklings of those thoughts beginning for myself just a short 1.5 years ago.  A legitimate moment, at my mother's home while in bed (because I was too sick and too weak to be out and about for long) still on chemotherapy with two spots on my lungs, staring the grim statistics in the face.  In those moments, you have to give yourself the permission to go ahead and cry.  You're not victimizing yourself, you're not weak - it actually takes strength to accept the moment you're in, and just grieve.  Half the time you won't even know what you're grieving, I didn't in the moment, still don't half the time.  But it does bring me freedom to know that Jesus wept (John 11:35) too.

For some unknown reason, God gave me a second chance.  The time where I had to ponder, for real, where I had to look life in the face and actually ask the tough questions - at an age I never thought would occur.  What is REALLY important?  In fact, the girl in "A Fault In Our Stars" could have easily been me, or you, or anyone.  Like her, I had a good friend that I had met in oncology at the hospital.  Brandon was his name, I've written about him on here before.  He passed away last May, and I still can't believe he is gone.  Seems like not that long ago both of us were riding horses while on treatment and waiting for CT scans together.  He was only 33 years old.  Watching him have to mentally process the unthinkable, unfathomable, dying.....knowing you just won't get better.  For Kara, she would say:

"When you come to the end of yourself, that's when something else can begin."

"The only way we ever really die with dignity - is to have lived with dignity."

I could go on and on, but read her story.  You won't regret it.  Have Kleenex nearby.  All that to say, I don't know each day if I'm going to do things right, make mistakes (because I make way too many to count, seriously, especially these days), or how the day will end up.  God is sovereign, and I trust He uses all things for our good.  I can't control how people will treat me, but I can control how I treat them.  I can love them as best I can for God's glory (1 Corinthians 13), I can choose to be patient with them, be kind with them, I can decide to not be envious or prideful or condescending, I can decide not to be arrogant or rude, I can decide to not be self-seeking, I can decide to not be irritable or resentful, I can can decide to not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoice with the truth.  I can love them, with God's help, to bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things.  I can pray that God equips me with His unfailing love, so I can point people to a Love that never fails.

I'm incredibly blessed to have a number of friends and family who have weathered all of this with me, and it is a privilege to weather life with them.  A blessing God allows me to live out, and I never want to waste it.  God continues to refine me day by day, and I only hope that out of His grace, it is to be more like Him and to love more like Him.  Even if He had to use cancer, the end result is worth it and eternal.