On December 29, 2011, our world stopped spinning and we just seemed to float in space with no help from gravity. My friend was diagnosed with ovarian cancer...and time stood still.
It came from as far out of left field as one can imagine. In fact, when Ronnie told me the diagnosis, I told him he was wrong. I told him several times he was wrong. Then I had a complete meltdown. The kind that results in laying down in the middle of the dining room floor and sobbingugly, ugly tears. I have never felt so helpless in my life. Never. When someone you love has cancer, you all carry the burden of cancer. It's a group experience with someone who is individually suffering. Strange. I am a researcher by nature. When I started getting sick with what we now know is Dyautonomia, I researched everything. I am a seeker. I want to know. I want to understand. And I wanted to understand Ovarian Cancer. The hardest part is that Ovarian Cancer doesn't want to be understood. It wants to confuse. It is straight from the devil. It tries to deceive us into believing it's bigger than God. In fact, the more we learn about Sarcoma Ovarian Cancer, the more evil it gets and the more it seems to mock it's victims and even the medical community. Along with being a researcher by nature, I am also drawn to help. I want to actively do something to help get. us. through. this. I'm out of my comfort zone when I am helpless. I suppose we all are. But in times like this, God is at his best. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that God is close to the brokenhearted and those crushed in spirit. It's when we are lying on the dining room floor, weeping until we are limp and dry that God is the close enough to touch. There is a term in Celtic Christianity called "Thin Places". Thin places are described as physical places, experiences and moments in time when the veil between here and eternity is as thin as a piece of thin fabric. I love the term. I have felt many thin places in my lifetime and have also been blessed with some very thin moments and experiences. And even though we have learned about ourselves, our faith, our God, our friendship and the preciousness of life, I would have preferred to avoid this particular thin experience called "Angie's Cancer".
God is so willing to meet with us in our grief and confusion.Yet so many times we are so caught up in the emotion and chaos of trial that we forget to be still and listen. We have the "Cry out to Jesus" part down. It's stopping to listen to what He has to say that baffles us.
I have a text saved in my phone from my friend Terri. It came when I was having a day of melting down. We got bad news again and I was spinning quickly out of control. My text had said, "I DONT' KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Her text was simple and profound "I know...be still." Prior to December 29, 2011, God had been pushing me along a path of prayer. He led me to particular experiences, people and places that called me to drop onto my knees and listen to Him, not talk at Him. I didn't understand why it was happening, but now I see He was preparing me to endure the heartache of watching my friend in the most incredible trial of her life. He wanted me to pray and listen like never before. There are lots of books about being a cancer patient, being a caregiver for the patients, even being a parent to a cancer patient. But I have yet to find one specifically about of how to love a friend who has cancer through the journey. I need a book. Books help this researching side of my personality cope. I have found many scriptures that have been the lifeline to which I've held onto as I have watched my friend suffer quietly. I've found old, time tested prayers that soothe the soul and calm the spirit in times of ultimate chaos. Our Lord promised that if we seek, we shall find. And as always, He has been faithful to do that, especially now.
I've been journaling my experience. I have a book floating around in my mind. I have many random thoughts that have helped me. Bizarre things we have done as friends to try and keep things as normal as possible, even when life is anything but normal.
I cannot begin to put words to Angie's experience, but I can put words to my own. It may never make it to a book. But at the very least, perhaps God will allow me to pray with someone like me, who feels completely helpless in the chaos of cancer.
"A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because her children are no more." Jeremiah 31:15 Yesterday was an odd mix of emotions for me. I got up very early, earlier than usual, to spend the day with my friend who has cancer. Angie had blood work to be completed very early. So in the beginning of yesterdays sunshine, I picked up my best friend and we rode to the cancer center. She felt bad. It's been a rough week. So much time this week has been spent at the cancer center. She has needed blood, fluids, more blood. But riding in the car, next to my lifelong friend, I felt joy. Even if the time was being spent saturated in this cancer world we now live it, just spending time with my friend brought me unspeakable joy. There is no place I would have rather been than with my friend. We found out she needed more fluids and platelets. It was going to be a long day again for my friend. We sat while the fluids entered into my friends body. I quietly thanked God that such fluids exist. We talked about everyday things, punctuated with a giggle here and there. She rested on and off. I crocheted a scarf. It is our now new normal.
After the fluids, we left the cancer center and did some almost normal everyday friend things. We ran a few errands. We tried not to think about the fact that she had on a mask because her white count is low. We did a wee bit of shopping in a decorating store that wasn't too crowded. We walked around like normal best friends who had some Christmas shopping to do. We talked about this beautiful piece and that. Then we happened upon these concrete lambs. I love lambs and sheep. They remind me so much of Ireland and Scotland, the lands of my heart and soul. I loved these little sculptures. The stone cast to look like wee lambs and then the rocks added for texture. Swoon. I was in love. I decided that I'd just have to purchase the smallest wee lamb and put him on my patio. So the lovely staff took the wee one and put him at the register. He is quite heavy, what with being made of concrete and rock. We shopped around some more, spending time together. Then it was time to leave and have a bite of lunch. I stopped at the register to pay for my wee lamb and there sat the larger one. Angie said, "Let me buy him as your Christmas present. The little one would be lonely all by himself." So with a lump in my throat, the staff loaded up my new little set of concrete lamb buddies. They rode in the truck, side by side, keeping each other company as Angie and I rode in the front seat, keeping each other company. We stopped and had a bowl of soup. We talked about friends and family. We laughed. We enjoyed out time together. Then it was time for platelets. So back to the cancer center we went. Our lambs riding safely along in the back too.
As we entered the cancer center at about 1 o'clock, we saw a television for the first time all day. There were the blaring, horrific words AT LEAST 26 DEAD, 18 CHILDREN. We would learn later it was even more children. I stopped and asked someone who was watching, stoned faced and in horror, "What is going on?" They explained it was an elementary school shooting in Connecticut. Angie and I were stunned. We quietly walked to the elevator and up to the blood unit to receive her platelets. She immediately turned on the television at her chair and we watched in silence as the reports were coming in. We didn't say much for a long time. Every once in a while one of us would say "How terrible", "God help them" or "How can this be?". Tears flowed. We talked about her experience being an elementary school teacher. I asked her, "Did you ever even talk about things like this?" "No", she said. It's been 16 years since she was in a classroom serving as teacher. Things were different then. I kept thinking of the scripture in Matthew 19:14 of the Great Shepherd as He said "Let these little children, come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Just wee lambs...let them come to Jesus, the Shepherd. The nurses, the staff and of course the other patients there to receive blood or blood products were all talking quietly about what was going on. Angie drifted in and out of sleep. I read my prayer book. Listened for God and prayed. It hit me like a tidal wave all at once and seemed so crazy. Here I sat in a cancer center with my life long friend. Children had just been savagely murdered. What is happening Lord? While Angie slept I walked downstairs to cry a wee bit alone. It is reverently quiet in the cancer center, somehow holy and sacred. God's presence is heavy there. Psalms 34:18 tells us "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit." It's odd though. The cancer patients, while looking frail and so sick in their recliners as they receive treatments, seem at peace and ready to fight. It's those of us in the small side chairs beside them where I see the brokenhearted look of confusion and crushed spirits. In those side chairs, we struggle with the thoughts of "What do I do? How can I fix this? What do I say? How can I help? Help, Lord Help!" But in these times of brokenhearted confusion and crushed spirits, Jesus whispers. Amongst the news reports of slain children and teachers, doctors reports and cancer scans, we can hear Him. But we must be quiet enough and listen closely. This morning, Adam helped me get the wee lambs out of the back of the car and sit them close to my back door. Side by side. They are not alone, just as Angie said. They needed to be together. Just as Angie said. God's lambs need each other...in the good times and the bad. And sometimes we just need to sit quietly, as quietly as those concrete lambs and just be. I came across this quote this morning. "The friend who can be silent with us in a
moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief
and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing … not healing, not curing
… that is a friend who cares." ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen ~ We just need to quietly care and mourn together. Today in heaven, new wee eternal lambs dance with joy in the sonshine of our Savior along side their teachers. Together. Side by side. No friend or little concrete lamb should ever be alone.
Ambrose is not a name you hear very often. My mother's family, the Ramsey family, is from Scotland and Ireland. My 5xGreat Grandfather James Ramsey came from Scotland to Derrykeighan, Co. Antrim, Northern Ireland and there had at least 3 sons Matthew, John and Ambrose. These 3 sons eventually made it to Chatham Co., North Carolina where all 3 served in the Revolutionary War. My lineage comes from Matthew. From humble, very humble beginnings, they came to America, fought for freedom and became quite successful. This was the hope of all who left Ireland to come to the states.
Today in my devotional reading I came across another Ambrose. St. Ambrose (339 AD-397 AD). He was a layperson who loved his community. At the death of a bishop, the local church was struggling. Ambrose, a local political leader, came in and tried to talk all the church into resolving their differences with peace. Much to his surprise, the people started calling for him to be the new bishop. He wasn't a priest, in fact he wasn't even a baptized member of the church. He was just a man with faith and hope in his heart.
Feeling the calling of God, Ambrose set out to learn quickly. He gave away all his his property, gave himself to prayer and immersed himself in scripture. Within a week he was baptized, confirmed, ordained and consecrated as bishop of Milan. Unheard of.
He was responsible to taking care of many of the poor and needy. He was also responsible for many conversions and baptisms, including a very famous one. He personally instructed and baptized St. Augustine. Here is a quote from St. Ambrose "The difference between good and bad rulers is that the good love freedom, the bad slavery." Wow. The calling of God is strong and sure. We must act when we feel it or hear it. St. Ambrose is proof that amazing things can happen when we act out of faith and hope. Because the name Ambrose means something to me, today I did a little digging to find out more about this man, St. Ambrose. It made me smile when I read that there is a book called "Ambrose-The Early Church Fathers".....written by Boniface Ramsey.
Ramsey. Wow. I love when God gets in the details of my study.
6 years ago today, these wee girls entered into my life....and it's never been the same. To the left is Meredith and to the right is Julia. They are the twin daughters of my closest cousin in the world, Jane, who is more like a little sister to me.
We are both only children and since our moms are very close sisters, we grew up together a lot. I am 7 years old than Jane. In my teens I also took on the role of the so called baby sitter. We had a ball together. Those sweet summers melted our hearts together forever. So 6 years ago, my precious Jane, delivered these two wee girls into our lives and into our hearts. And then Jane asked me to be their Godmother. As previously said, I grew up CoC, so we didn't have Godmothers. I had to do a little research to determine what being a Godmother meant. It's really quite simple, but profound. A Godparent is someone who loves the child and is especially linked to their spiritual life. On the day of their Christening, I vowed to always look after their spiritual life. The best way to do that is to always be there for them and pray. And then pray some more.
These wee ones are always in my prayers and in my heart and thoughts.
Dear God, On this day that we celebrate the birth of the two little souls Jane and John named Meredith and Julia, I ask a special blessing on these precious girls. Please always stay extra close to them. Hold them tight. Send your angels to guard over their little bodies, but especially their wee hearts and minds. They mean so much to me Lord God. I can't imagine a world without the brightness and life of these two sweet blessings. You alone know the joy that surges through my heart when they give me a hug and tell me they love me.
LordI ask that you give me the wisdom to be their Godmother. You alone hold the key to the wisdom I seek. Help me to pray for them as I should. Help me to love them as I should. Help me to know what to do so that my life may not hinder them from becoming the daughters of God that you would have them be.
Help them know how much they are loved. Help them know how dear they are to me. Help them see you. Help them to hear and listen for You in all things.
Lord we praise you for the past 6 years. Those years are a blessing that can only come through you. Help these girls grow strong and healthy. Keep them from disease and sickness. Help their sweet young minds absorb much knowledge so that they can be filled with your wisdom and grace.
Teach John and Jane how to love them best. Guide them as they guide their sweet family. Heap upon this family much happiness and love. Help them see Jesus in each other.
Lord I thank you so much for the blessing Jane and her family are to me. And thank you especially for the blessing of Meredith and Julia.
