Brain, On-the-Rocks

3 05 2018

 
Day two and I’m already second-guessing my decision to share more personally during Brain Tumor Awareness Month. My natural inclination is always toward more privacy, not less, but mostly I’m worried that my posts will sound like whining, and that is not at all my objective. I’m sharing because I can, while many, many more cannot. 

 I can still work, see, access resources, walk, hear, learn, communicate; live. That makes me one of the very fortunate. I interact regularly with others in the brain tumor community who would give every possession they have to be living my reality instead of the one they must navigate. So because I can, and they can’t, I’ll share pieces of our story in the hopes that greater awareness will move treatment, resources, and prevention forward. Thanks for listening, and hopefully seeing a place where you can advocate for the 700,000 Americans living with a brain tumor. 

Living with a brain tumor is a little like having a really self-absorbed, uninvited house-guest who refuses to leave. Once they’re in, there is no way to add-on space (brain real estate is a tightly closed market) so if you can’t kick them out, you spend a lot of time trying to manage them. 

 At some point, pretty much every day/night, I’ll need to ice my brain to turn down the pain signaling a bit. The top drawer of my freezer is a rather impressive collection of ice-hats, packs, and sleeves to wear, drape, wrap, or insert into pillows. The community shares new ice discoveries, we are always looking for something that’s just a little better, so I’ve got stuff from the UK, from Canada, and from around the US hanging out in my freezer. Fortunately, there is plenty of space in there since since I don’t do much of that cooking thing.  One brain, nicely chilled. 😉





Dissonance

22 03 2017

   
There are some days when pieces of life seem egregiously out-of-tune with one another.

 Last night we received word that the daughter of dear friends had lost her extended battle with a particularly vicious disease. As I have sat in my home throughout this morning one of the pairs of cardinals that make their home in the trees along our property line has been vigorously, relentlessly singing. I thought to myself, they cannot know that today is not a day for song; their song does not fit with the anguish of the loss of a daughter, mother, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, aunt, and friend.  Today, they should be silent.

 As the morning has progressed, and the cardinals have continued to sing I began to wonder if perhaps their song is being sung across a wider expanse than our current, physical line of sight allows us to view. Perhaps there is, on this day, a hope that has been realized, a wholeness that has been reached, a peace that has been found, a life that has been finally and forever restored. Perhaps, in the unknown and indefinable space through which we move from this life into eternity the hand of Immanuel, God with us; our ever-present help in time of trouble reached out again, and was grasped with joy. Perhaps that is why the cardinals are singing today; perhaps they are in tune with an eternity that we cannot yet see.  Perhaps, on days like today, their song is the evidence of things not seen.

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”  Hebrews 11:1





Equality – What if we weren’t afraid?

8 03 2017

 We as humans have a tendency to live from a position of self-preservation, we are fearful that anything gained by, or given to, another will occur at our expense so we carefully protect the things we already have; things like possessions, positions, places, power, rights and security both real and perceived.  On days like today, International Women’s Day, when we take a closer look at gender-based differences in that list of things I wonder how much of those differences continue to exist because of fear.

As a woman in a male-centric vocation, and as mother to three daughters I live with a very present awareness of gender-based inequalities.  I had a whole bunch of statistics bearing testimony to the actual inequity that is real-life for women in America in spite of all the right things we say on paper; the stats for the majority of women living outside western democratic cultures are even more profoundly sobering; but you can see those numbers easily in lots of places today if you choose to look so I won’t list them again here.  And, if you believe we as women are misrepresenting or exagerating the inequality we experience daily, my handful of words added to the others is unlikely to change your mind.

However, if we do recognize the continuing inequality that exists between genders, knowing that inequality enacted between people is out of alignment with the model Jesus gave, what if we truly acted from what we say we believe?  What if we stopped guarding what we already have?  What if we viewed our rights as resources to be shared?  What if giving has less to do with money and more to do with privelege?  What if we thought about generosity as it relates to our power?  What if we really were as concerned about others as we were ourselves?  What if we were willing to risk everything for someone else?  What if we weren’t afraid?





AdventPhotos2016 – Promise

10 12 2016

Quick; what were you doing in 1971? I was listening my way through Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory in Mrs. Dunlop’s Kindergarten class reading circle. Now, think of everything that has happened in-between then and now. Yeah, I know. I can’t remember it all either. 41 years is a pretty long time; almost 15,000 new days. So many days. So many details of life. So many changes.
Paul is part of the Life Link Community Church family. Every Sunday he’ll be sitting in the back row, on the left side of the sanctuary, quietly present week after week. Paul’s life came to a crisis moment back in 1971, and he made a promise. He promised to stay sober and for 15,000 morning he has woken up to a day where he has had to decide whether or not to keep that promise. There have been days with sickness, days with no money, days when someone he trusted violated that trust, days when unreasonable demands and expectations were heaped onto his shoulders, days when someone he loved died, days when he knew fear, days of celebration, days when it would have been easier to not keep that promise. No one makes him keep that promise – he chooses to keep his promise, every day. Making the promise wasn’t the hardest part. It undoubtedly felt huge in the moment, but the hard part has been in keeping the promise on all the days that followed. Those times when no else is there; no one is looking; one would ever even know if the promise were broken. No one but Paul. And he chooses to keep his promise.

On Thursday evenings, if you stop in to Life Link you’ll find Paul there again, but not in his usual spot in the sanctuary. On Thursdays he leads a recovery group, and he’ll be downstairs in the kitchen with a pot of coffee, waiting for others to trickle in and join him around the table where he will challenge them to make a promise. But more importantly, he will encourage them to keep their promise, sitting there with them, a gracious and gentle testimony to the powerful beauty of a promise kept.

Advent marks the beginning of a new year on the church calendar. A time when we evaluate, take stock, recognize what can and should change, and make promises about what will be true in our lives going forward. No one will make us keep those promises, but there is One who has chosen to come and sit with us; not only in the sanctuary moments of life, but in the basement moments as well. He made and keeps the promise of His Presence with us, every day.
 From Him, we can be empowered and equipped to live a life of promise; if we chose it.  

  





AdventPhotos2016 – Hope

9 12 2016

My health issues have given me a challenging couple of days and as I was pulling out a particular medication this evening I said to myself, “Oh, I hope this helps.” While I am certainly thankful for the measure of relief afforded through medical science, I am so very glad that my hope is not limited to what can be held in a box or a bottle. In this Advent season, as I wait in the mystery of the already and the not yet, my ultimate, unwavering hope is not in something, but in some One. 

Hope is a powerful thing. It is what holds our spirit steady in the place of anticipation for what is yet to be. 

Hope is what looks into the future and sees an estranged relationship brought close again; poverty being met with provision; mourning journeying through to joy; oppression humbled by justice; brokenness made whole; sickness defeated in healing, and hatred vanquished by love.

Psalm 39:7 “And now, Lord, what wait I for? My hope is in thee.”

  





AdventPhotos2016 – Commit

6 12 2016

Well, I did it again. I bought another book. I’m too embarrassed to even count the number of books in my ‘to-read’ stack(s) – to say nothing of the ones in-progress. In an attempt to control the rate of expansion of my library  I have a rule for myself; I will not buy another book without getting rid of one.  But I’ll be reading one of my books and the writer will reference another book that gives more detail or depth on the topic at hand, and it would be fantastic to have that additional material, so I buy the next book and I fudge on my rule. I’ll remove one of my digital books from one of my devices, because I still really need all of my printed books. I like my rule, in theory. I like the way it would control the sheer volume of bound matter in my tiny house. I like the way it would save me money. But when it comes right down to it, I don’t like it enough to follow through with my rule. Despite my internal dialog, and digital dodging, I won’t commit to that particular discipline in my life; my actions demonstrate an attitude of “I might” rather than “I will.”

As I walk through this Advent season, I find fresh encouragement in God’s commitment to relationship with humankind being met through the gift of His Son. He said He would send a Messiah, and He did. And as I look with anticipation toward the continued fulfillment of His promises in my life I am so very grateful to know that He is not an “I might” God.

  





AdventPhotos2016 – Touch

5 12 2016