Voice of Truth

Esther led morning prayers at our office Friday, and she played a song on CD as part of her devotional. Friday evening while Sue (missionary in West Africa) was here, she told us that during a difficult time last year the mission team had chosen a theme song. These stories wouldn't be worth telling except for one fact (which you've probably already guessed). Both were about the same song! From the first CD by the group "Casting Crowns," the song is "Voice of Truth." It seemed like a "Godincidence," so I found my CD and played the song many times over the weekend. Now it echoes in my mind; you could say it's become my theme song for these days when my greatest challenge is keeping my mind on the faith track.

Voice of Truth
by Mark Hall & Steven Curtis Chapman
Sung by Casting Crowns

Oh what I would do to have the kind of faith it takes
to climb out of this boat I’m in onto the crashing waves.

To step out of my comfort zone into the realm of the unknown
Where Jesus is and He’s holding out His hand.

But the waves are calling out my name and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times I’ve tried before and failed.
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again, “[Girl], you’ll never win!”
“You’ll never win!”

But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, “Do not be afraid!”
And the voice of truth says, “This is for my glory.”
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of strength it takes to stand before a giant
With just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors,
Shaking in their armor
Wishing they’d have had the strength to stand.

But the giant’s calling out my name and he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times I’ve tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
Time and time again, “[Girl], you’ll never win!”
“You’ll never win!”

But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says, “Do not be afraid!”
And the voice of truth says, “This is for my glory.”
Out of all the voices calling out to meI will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

But the stone was just the right size
To put the giant on the ground
And the waves they don’t seem so high
From on top of them lookin’ down
I will soar with the wings of eagles
When I stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
Singing over me.
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth.

Went shopping with Jeremy on Saturday and picked up some more CDs, including the newer Casting Crowns album. The song "Praise You in this Storm" is the one I want to learn next.

And now a laugh for the day, sent to me in honor of my blonde wig:
Two blondes living in Oklahoma are sitting on a bench rocking, and one blonde says to the other, "Which do you think is farther away........Florida or the moon?" The other blonde turns and says "Helloooooooooo, can you see Florida?????"

I feel quite well and plan to work today. We continue to pray for many friends who are also walking along the cancer journey.

Blessings,
Carol

The Gift of Life

Yesterday we took Jeremy to "A Taste of Ghana" at the African American Cultural Center in uptown Charlotte. Ate some lovely Ghanian food. I love this about the African American people--if they love Jesus, they forgt political correctness and say it right out loud in public. That's what one of the featured musicians did.

Today is Sunday. I hope each one of us will make time for authentic worship today.

"The Gift of Life" by Ken Gire
"It is a great loss that we awake to so many gifts on a given day, not only without opening them, but without even knowing they are there for us to open. When each of us awakes, it should be with a splash-of-cold-water-in-the-face awareness: It has been given me another day to live. To me. To some others, that gift has been withheld. The sun rises, but their eyes will forever be closed to its light, its beauty, its blessings. But to me another day, for whatever reason, has been given.

"Another day to give gifts and to receive them. To love and to be loved. To embrace God through the moments of my day and through those moments to be embraced by Him.

"Each new morning that God’s mercies dawn on us with the gift of another day, we should greet that day with an attitude of expectant reverence, as one kneeling to receive the sacrament of holy communion."

Here's my prayer request for today: that I will focus first and most on God, then on others, and very little on myself. Thanks.

Carol

Waiting and Watching

In Sunday School tomorrow we'll study Habakkuk 2:1-4: "Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, wait patiently, for it will surely take place. It will not be delayed. Look at the proud! They trust in themselves, and their lives are crooked, but the righteous will live by their faith." Our teacher, in his weekly letter, wrote: "Why does God take so long? And while He is taking His time, why does He expect us not only to wait for Him, but also to keep watch? What's the value of watching when God isn't ready yet to do whatever it is He has us watching for? Unless we learn to wait for God, and to watch while waiting, we probbly don't know Him as well as we want to. I'm beginning to catch hints of God's pleasure in our waiting and watching." That's a lesson I don't want to miss! (You'll catch me now and then chafing at all the months of kemo and the waiting to see what God has planned.)

Last evening our dear friend Sue came for dinner. She returned this week from missionary service in West Africa. We go "way back," and although we talked a mile a minute, we didn't get caught up. What a delight to see her!

Pig in a Taxi and Other African Adventures is the title of a humorous memoir by Suzanne Crocker. I received it in yesterday's mail from my college roommate (from 48 years ago). Crocker and her family were missionaries in Togo, and her book reflects a woman who is amusing and transparent, human and likeable. In the interest of my campaign for laughter contagion, I'll pass along a story that had me laughing out loud last night:

"I was tired of standing in the shower and scooping water one meager cupful at a time to pour over myself and scrub. I wanted to submerge at least part of my hot, tired and dirty body into some water and soak. It didn't seem like much to wish for. My sweet husband went to the market and bought a large basin that women use for hauling water, and then he filled it with cool water. I was ecstatic. I submerged as much of myself as I possibly could and settled in for a nice long soak. It was simply delightful--until I tried to get out.

"That was when my problem began. I had not considered the force of suction. I was completely stuck to the bottom of the basin, and no amount of pulling and prying would get me out. I finally had to stand up with the basin still stuck to me and water running all over the floor before John could pry it loose. Needless to say, after cleaning up all that mess, my bucket shower looked a little more inviting." Can you picture it?

Still laughing,
Carol

Need a Laugh?

Someone asked me to be sure to pass along any jokes that come in. Several people uploaded jokes under "Comments," which you can find under Thursday's posting. Here's one that came in by regular e-mail. All of these have had the desired effect: a good laugh.

A visitor from out of town walked into the pro shop at a golf course. In walked four old "geezers" who just finished their round. The pro asked how they played. The first one said it was a bad day. "I only had one rider." The second said he was ready to quit golf, he only had two riders. The third said, "For me it was a pretty good day with 5 riders." The fourth was real happy; he had had 14 riders! Then the four went to get something to eat.

The visitor indicated he had played a lot of golf at a lot of courses but had never had heard of a rider. "What is a rider?" The pro responded, "Well, these guys are just happy to be playing golf, but they don't play very competitively. A rider is when they hit the ball far enough to get in the cart rather than walk to the next shot."

Thank You

Thank you for praying me through another kemo swamp. Yesterday I was able to put in a full day's work. (Well, I came home at 3:00 to rest, and then in the evening I felt well enough to work a couple more hours.) This morning I feel quite well; only the neuropathy in my hands and feet reminds me that I'm in a war.

The theologian Karl Barth, in his very old age, was asked by some of his students to name the most profound theogical truth he had ever encountered. He replied, "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." Yesterday I received a new version of that precious children's song from the friends my mother and I met in Mexico. If you too are past the stage of "little ones," you might like these words:

Jesus loves me, this I know, Though my hair is white as snow.
Though my sight is growing dim, Still He bids me trust in Him.

Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so.

Though my steps are oh, so slow, With my hand in His I'll go.
On through life, let come what may, He'll be there to lead the way. (CHORUS)

When the nights are dark and long, In my heart He puts a song.
Telling me in words so clear, "Have no fear, for I am near." (CHORUS)

When my work on earth is done, And life's victories have been won.
He will take me home above, Then I'll understand His love.

Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me,
Yes, Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so.

And there is hope and comfort for the day!
Love,
Carol

Fatigue so Deep

Every time I get kemo'd I deliberately don't talk myself into hitting a low point on the third day. But the low point comes anyway. A fatigue so deep that sleep brings no relief, yet I can do nothing but sleep. Still, knowing it's only kemo and therefore temporary makes it okay. Today will be better, I'm sure.

Yesterday I found a comprehensive rule for life in 2 Corinthians, chapter 1 verse 12: "We have depended on God's grace, not on our own earthly wisdom." So simple, yet profound. By God's grace, every day is a gift; and by God's grace, we face every new bump in the road and every new choice-point with confidence that He is there.

I said in yesterday's blog that I'm doing everything I know to do, so I can "sleep when the wind blows." But I realize there's one rule for healing that I'm ignoring: laughter. Oh, I grin and giggle often. But I'm doing little laughing out loud (also known as belly laughter) these days. I rented some movies from the humor aisle, but they didn't make me laugh. I don't like humor that insults or is off-color. (Yes, I know I'm old-fashioned in my tastes.) If you've heard a joke that made you laugh out loud, could you scroll to the bottom of this post, click on Comments, and pass it along? Thanks.

Blessings,
Carol

CA 125

I was so eager to learn the result of the CA 125 blood test. Now I’m not so sure. It’s 55.1. That’s the third increase—after several earlier months of dramatic reduction. On June 5 it was 52.1. This is a small rise, but it’s still in the “wrong” direction, from my point of view. You can imagine where my thoughts raced. God quieted my heart with this thought: You’re already doing everything you can do, so just keep doing it. That reminded me of a story our Kansas friend sent, so I looked it up and will copy it below. (Thanks, Ed.)

Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.”Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.”Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!" The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down.
Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew. When you're prepared spiritually, mentally, and physically, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life?

I slept a lot yesterday, and will probably do so again today. But this is kemo fatigue—not cancer symptoms. The doctor wants to continue with the same kemo protocol two weeks from now, and will run another test a week later. Whatever the results, God is good. I know that. Frankly, though, I hope the numbers start to drop.

Thanks for your prayers. I especially appreciate your praying for Chuck and the family; this is their life too.

Love,
Carol

Perspective

Chuck and I went to Providence Cafe for lunch following yesterday's kemo. I savored my fruit plate at our al fresco table. Then, at the edge of my vision, I noticed motion in the parking lot; and I watched as a man in a wheelchair slowly exited his van and finally powered his way up the walk to the restaurant door. I couldn't tell what had caused his paralysis, but it was pretty obvious that he wouldn't be leaving that chair in this life. And I thought, "How blessed I am to be able to walk." My mind kept counting miracles: I can read the menu (my eyes aren't watering these days); I can taste and enjoy my food (many on chemo lose that pleasure); dear friends and family surround me with love (so many carry crushing burdens alone). Today I want us to pray for people we know who live with permanent disabilities and for people who are humanly alone.

Kemo went well. About 2:00 pm heavy fatigue set in and since then I've been pretty much prone. I did get up to help a little bit with dinner and to eat it. I'll be resting today, but I won't be complaining.

I appreciate your love and prayers.
Carol

Kemo

My two youngest grandchildren enclosed personal notes in their birthday card to me two months ago. Both of them referred to praying for my chemo and spelled it "kemo." I'm sure they heard the word all the time but had never seen it written. I was thinking about those notes yesterday, and I decided I prefer their spelling. It's cute and fun, and it ignores the toxic fact that a bunch of chemicals are about to be pumped into my veins in a couple of hours. So, dear friends, thanks for all your prayers through all these months of kemo treatments, and thanks for praying today as well.

Last evening the glorious sounds of the Calvary Church organ, played by John Cleaveland, delighted our minds and hearts. The concert was sponsored by the American Guild of Organists, with whom I was affiliated at an early stage of my life. A lovely variety of compositions from early Baroque to contemporary showed off the exquisite capabilities of that organ, which contains more than 11,000 pipes and is the largest organ ever built all at once. The organist mentioned that many have been praying for him lately, and a friend whispered to me that he has cataracts on both eyes (he's only in his 40s!) and a torn retina. To think of the handicap under which he prepared that magnificent program! Someone had sent him a greeting card inscribed with the words "Be Thou my Vision." So although it wasn't on the printed program, he played a stanza of that ancient and compelling Irish hymn. Since it expresses my prayer for today, I'll quote it as I close:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart.
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Heading out for kemo,
Carol

Yesterday Was too Short!

It's sweet to have Lisa here, and also the 3 cousins. But the time flies, and the day seems too short. They need to leave immediately after lunch today. We treasure every moment...

Tomorrow I get another chemo. We hope for the best, and pray for the cancer to continue to be destroyed. By Wednesday or Thursday we hope to have an update on the tumor marker readings. Up? Or down? A variety of emotions are wrapped up in these few sentences.

Today's devotion in Streams in the Desert is based on Ephesians 5:19-20, "Sing . . . to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything." We choose to do that. An author known only as C.H.P. tells of watching a man draw some black dots on a piece of paper. They appeared totally meaningless. Then the man added a few lines and drew a treble clef at the beginning. "Suddenly," he says, "we realized that the dots were musical notes, and as we began to sound them out, we were singing, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow; Praise Him all creatures here below."

We all have "black spots" in our lives. C.H.P. says, "As we allow God to adjust the dots in the proper way, to draw the lines He desires, and to put rests at the proper places to separate us from certain things, then from the black dots and spots He will compose a glorious harmony." May it be so for all of us! I have known many people who built glorious harmonies out of very difficult black dots. I thank God that they prove it can be done.

Have a wonderful Sunday.

Love,
Carol

Good News

Yesterday's mail brought a card with this message: Good news for today: God is still in charge and in control! He is beside you, behind you, before you, and for you! No doubt about it, no way around it--His plan is good, His power is great, and His best is yet to come! (by Matt Anderson) I agree; that is certainly good news. We can live with that.

Lisa and her cousins encountered terrible traffic last evening and finally arrived just before midnight. She's still sleeping, of course. She wants to prepare panckes for breakfast this morning.

I'm thankful to say that I feel quite well. At the moment, tingling/numb fingers and feet seem to be my only symptoms of chemo. Other things come and go. God is answering your prayers in wonderful ways, and I'm grateful to you and to Him.

Love,
Carol

Risk

The evening before we brought Jeremy with us to Charlotte, he got his first opportunity to wakeboard. He did great until this moment. You can see by the expression on his face that he knows there's nothing he can do to prevent a "face plant." I'm wondering if he's feeling similar emotions now after nearly two weeks of orientation at SIM: looming cultural faux pas; the frustrations of trying to communicate in French, Hausa, Songhai or all three; unheard-of diseases; and especially the spiritual challenges of wanting so much to bring the love of Christ to a very poor and strongly Muslim society. He's having a wonderful time, and I'm sure that God, who called him to do this, will keep him from going under. We love having him with us.

I was sorting through some stored papers, and I found some things from the time of my mother's death 2 1/2 years ago. I read again the large stack of beautiful cards, and realized that about three quarters of them were from members of our Sunday School class--the same people who are now impoverishing themselves by sending endless showers of encouraging cards to me during this battle with cancer. Do you see why I can't stop bragging about that class? Well, they're not the only ones. A dear friend in Michigan hand-crafts a card every week. Yes, hand-crafts! They are true works of art. And there are many others in many places whose ministry of encouragement (by cards and e-mails) keeps us going. The fellowship of friends and family is surely one of the greatest delights of life on this earth.

A full day of writing yesterday (working at home) put me well on track for completing the first draft of the next SIM magazine before the weekend (and before next week's chemo gets a chance to limit my work for awhile). I'm praying that it won't, but I have learned that those "still" times are good for me too.

Lisa and her cousins will be driving from Washington DC starting about 2:00 this afternoon. We pray for their safety.

Grandson Justin told me last night that he has injured his leg (torn muscle?) and the pain is intense, especially at night. He can't see his doctor until Monday. I spent time during the night praying for him.

Note: This is actually Friday's post. I made a draft on Thursday to upload the photo, and I see that blogger insists on using Thursday's date. Sorry.

Blessings,
Carol

A Rare and Wonderful Gift

Yesterday marked 7 months since my cancer surgery. Just before we fell asleep last night, Chuck and I were expressing our gratitude for how good I feel at this point, contrary to all medical expectations. We asked, "Has any other ordinary person ever had such a wide network of such faithful prayer support over such a long period of time?" We can understand why people like our dear Pastor Page or David Jeremiah would receive such a gift. But us? Your prayers are a rare and wonderful gift!

I spent my childhood in a Swedish community in northern Michigan. Our church reflected our Swedish heritage, and our hymns carried the lilting tunes and rhythms of traditional Swedish folk songs. Yesterday I was being thankful for a heap of blessings, and my mind returned to a hymn from childhood memory. The tune title is “Tack, O Gud.”

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,
Thanks for what Thou dost deny.
Thanks for storms that I have weathered,
Thanks for all Thou dost supply.
Thanks for pain and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair.
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare.

I'm working fulltime this week and it feels good. Joy oh joy, daughter Lisa is coming from Washington DC for the weekend.

Thankful for you,
Carol

Flyer? or Catcher?

Many years go my mother and I traveled to Mexico for what turned out to be a final visit to places and people we had loved years earlier. We stayed one night in the home of some teachers who became our friends. I received the following story from them, and when I read it yesterday it was exactly what my soul needed.

What it means to trust God can be seen in the death-defying circus act of the high flying trapeze.

In this circus act there are two players, the flyer and the catcher. The flyer is the person who holds onto a swinging bar high above the ground, gaining momentum as he moves back and forth until he finally releases the bar and does a flip or two while hurtling through the air toward the catcher. Now the catcher is also swinging from a bar high above the ground, but he's hanging by his legs...upside down. The flyer is flying through the air while the catcher is getting ready to catch him.

There's something very important here. While tumbling through the air, in the direction of the catcher, the flyer must not try to catch the catcher. After all the flips and spins, he has only one thing left to do...hold out his arms to be caught. If the flyer panics and tries to grab the swinging catcher, the flyer will fail and fall to the ground.

So what does it take to be a successful flyer? Absolute confidence that the catcher is there. Absolute reliance on the catcher's ability. Absolute dependence on the catcher and no other. And absolute assurance the catcher will catch him. The flyer must trust the catcher with all his heart. (I'm leaving off the sermon. We can all figure it out!)

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13

[Flying and Catching, (Adapted) By: Chuck Graham (A Note of Encouragement of 7/10/2006) A copyright interest held by Ciloa, Inc.]

My heart is still singing from a joyful encounter yesterday afternoon. Sarah, a precious friend from Michigan, surprised me at my office. (She's in town visiting a college friend.) I suppose we talked 1,000 words a minute. And she prayed for me. The sweet encouragement lingers.

"Let hope be the last thing you lose."

Love,
Carol

Patience

Do you remember several months ago when I referred to the story of a woman who got cancer and her niece made a distinction between the "Big C" (Christ) and the "little c" (cancer)? I'm discovering that keeping the "little c" in its place is one of my great challenges these days. I don't want cancer to define who I am or what goes on in my spirit--but some days it does! I woke up this morning wishing it would all go away, and a short sentence popped into my head: "You need patience." Right! I need patience.

I see a monumental promise in 1 Peter 5:10,11. "In His kindness God called you to His eternal glory by means of Jesus Christ. After you have suffered a little while, He will restore, support and strengthen you, and He will place you on a firm foundation. All power is His forever and ever. Amen." Truthfully, it's that phrase "a little while" that raises the need for patience, because sometimes little whiles seem awfully long when you're living in the midst of them! And I feel more and more the need to be authentic, to "lean into" reality, to embrace life fully in all its aspects. I'm thankful to be on my feet, free of many of the chemo side effects that could have happened, and able to cope with those that have. I'm embarrassed to admit, though, how much I wish I could know the eventual outcome. Huh? Who on earth doesn't have to live with uncertainty of one sort or another? So join the club, girl! "We walk by faith, not by sight."

Yesterday afternoon I posted an entry copied from a site a friend told me about on Sunday. It so graphically describes my experiences and feelings as a cancer patient. This journalist blogger writes in far more depth than I take time to do. So if you'd like to know more about this strange journey, scroll on down.

Thanks for your continuing interest and prayers.
Love,
Carol

Learning about cancer

On Sunday a friend told me about "nprmycancer." A journalist, Leroy Sievers, posts daily blogs giving a very honest description of how his cancer affects him and how he feels about it. He's an excellent journalist, and he takes time to write far more in depth than I do. So I thought I'd share a sample of his work, admit that he is telling the truth, and suggest that you check out his site. Google: nprmycancer. Here's a sample:

"Good Days and Bad Days"

On the bad days, I get tired. That's one of the side effects of the chemo: You just feel worn out. I try to fight it and lead as normal a life as possible. But some days, one thing -- just one thing -- is all I can do. One business lunch, a trip to the office, something like that. Afterwards, I'm just beat. I hate that.

I used to walk a lot. On the good days, I go down to the park along the Potomac River and walk five miles or so. Can usually do it in just a little over an hour. But on the bad days, I know I'll never make it that far. My chest feels tight; I just don't have the wind I used to. On the bad days, just walking a couple of blocks can be exhausting.

It's not sleepy tired. A nap really doesn't solve the problem. It's more just physical exhaustion. I tell myself that it's just my body, using its resources to fight the disease. I hope that's true. But there are times where I lie down for what I think will be a short nap and wake up hours later.
But it's more than just being physically tired. You get tired mentally. You get tired of fighting sometimes. Tired of telling yourself it will be OK. Tired of telling your friends that you're fine, and acting like it's true. Just tired of dealing with it all: the doctors, the shots, the pills, the cancer.

OK, so much for feeling sorry for myself. There are good days, too. Those are the days when you feel like yourself. When your body can do all the things it used to do. When the cancer's not weighing you down. Those are the days you treasure.

It's funny -- the hospitals try to prepare you for all this. They give you notebooks of material, there are books and Web sites and meetings... you name it. One of the problems with the books is that they have to be written for all cancer patients. And we are not all the same. Some of you have written in to this blog talking about cancers I've never even heard of. I'm pretty sure you hadn't, either, before the diagnosis.

But we all react differently to the cancer, to the treatments. So the books will say things like "you'll be lethargic, or have plenty of energy." "You'll have no appetite, or you'll be famished." "You'll sleep most of the day, or you'll have insomnia." Sounds pretty much like life to me.

Good days and bad days -- that's what our lives are made of.

A "Grandma Fix"

The best gift of yesterday was the visit of "adopted daughter" Donna and "grand-daughters" Brittany and Lauryn. Well, okay, the adoption was simply between us, not legal, but it surely felt real, and oh how we miss them since they moved away. If only Chad could have come too, the visit would have been perfect. Donna brought a DVD of Chad's and Lauryn's recent baptism, which was pretty special!

This morning I feel ready for a full day's work. I hope it holds, because I surely need to put in a full week this week. Chemo happens again next Monday. It seems like a long journey without knowing what's happening at the cellular level. I'm sure this is part of what's meant by "walking by faith." You keep putting one foot in front of the other, trying to do the right thing (including chemo, nutrition, and maintaining a thankful attitude), actively trusting God to do what only He can do.

Our Sunday School class has a new prayer effort which will result in an additional 24 hours of intercessory prayer to God each week. Seventy members are making a commitment to devote an extra 3 minutes each day to pray for issues that are important to God but are outside their usual sphere of concern. Some of the suggestions: people living without knowing God above the Arctic Circle in Russia, morbidly obese people hiding in their own homes, political leaders we don't like, humility and faithfulness in the lives of Christian leaders, His mercy on our nation, and of course quiet people around the world whose lives are disrupted by the events we see in the news. Three minutes! What a small price to pay for such a big effect!

Oh dear friends, how can I ever thank you for praying for me too? I do want to live.

Love,
Carol

Value

I'm so happy to be at home on Sunday and I'm looking forward to participating in our Sunday School class again.

Yesterday I was reading 1 Corinthians 12 and I saw with fresh eyes the extreme value of every person. "There are different ways God works in our lives, but it is the same God who does the work through all of us." (verse 6) "It is the one and only Holy Spirit who distributes these gifts. He alone decides which gift each person should have." (verse 11) "God made our bodies with many parts, and he has put each part just where He wants it." (verse 18) "Now all of you together are Christ's body, and each one of you is a separate and necessary part of it." (verse 27) As my grandsons like to say, "It's not about me; it's not about you; it's all about Him."

Two very precious neighbors moved away in recent years. One of them (wife and children--the husband is on assignment in Nigeria) came back to spend a few weeks in their vacant house here--what a thrill to have them near again! And another is driving through town today with her 2 daughters and will stop to have lunch with us. The kids all feel like my grandchildren.

Jeremy is spending his leisure time working on French, piano and guitar. We're praying that God will prepare him in every way for his six months in Niger. His blog address is http://jeremyinafrica.blogspot.com.

I still have a funny head (pounding and "heavy"), but oh! I feel so much better than I did a few days ago. I continue to pray that I will fully live each day that I'm given.

Have a blessed day!
Carol

Thank you for praying

By 11:00 yesterday morning, I was feeling alive again and was able to put in a profitable hour of work at the office. That's not much--but what an improvement. Thanks for praying.

Last evening some teenaged missionary kids invited Jeremy to go out with them. Sounds like he had a wonderful time. I'm grateful. I know he's missing his lifelong friends back in Michigan.

Yesterday a friend sent the following in an e-mail. It has the ring of truth. Since I truly want to be strong, human and humble, I believe I need to welcome trials, sorrows and failures. And especially, to rely on God fully and exclusively, who "keeps us going."
Happiness keeps you Sweet,
Trials keep you Strong,
Sorrows keep you Human,
Failures keeps you Humble,
Success keeps you Glowing,
But only God keeps you Going!

I'm heading out for a short walk before the day turns steamy.

I just reread this posting and found more typographical errors. The chemo-induced neuropathy has turned my fingers and feet into clumsy duds. So if you find errors, please forgive.

Love,
Carol

Reflections

When I look in the mirror, I recognize myself. But I do NOT recognize the person who lives inside that skin! No energy, no creativity, no vision. Yesterday afternoon I went out to rescue the ripening tomatoes from the mockingbirds, and had to sit down to rest as soon as I got back inside. Jeremy came home to change his clothes at about 5:00, and I jumped up to greet him, only to say, "Hey, come in and sit on my bed so we can talk; I have to lie down." I know there's a new magazine needing to be written, but my brain keeps stalling. Chemo is an outrage. And this new drug combination hits harder than the original did. I'm now on a bi-weekly schedule, and if it wipes me out for a whole week, does that mean it's robbing me of 50% of my life? These are the musings of the spoiled brat who lives inside my skin.

But then sanity takes over. Even at my lowest, I'm still breathing. I can still see the beautiful flowers and hear the fountain and the birds. Food tastes good, although it doesn't settle very well. I can appreciate the sweet encouragement of Chuck and Jeremy as well as friends who write or call. I can listen to music, or sing it in my head. I can read a little. Best of all, I can talk to God and He can talk to me. So yes, even the days when chemo does its worst are still filled with life.

Surely God's instruction for these days is, "Be still, and know that I am God." A B Simpson wrote, "Just as dew never falls on a stormy night, the dew of His grace never covers a restless soul."

My prayer request is that for the days when my body must be still, my soul will also be still. And we continue to pray that God will eradicate the cancer cells wherever they may be hiding. Thanks for praying.

Love,
Carol

Encouragement

We're up early to say Goodby to Sue and Jeff. Yes, Jeff arrived only 24 hours ago after driving through the night. They both have to work Friday--thus the brief visit. Our time with the DeValves last evening was wonderful. Jeremy is excited about the opportunity God has opened for him to spend a half year in Niger, West Africa. Since their town is still in the early stages of receiving a Christian witness, Jeremy's main job description will be to "hang out" with teens and kids, making friends and living and loving as Jesus would. (The town is more modern than I realized; they have electricity, cell phones and some paved streets.)

I'm heading back to bed. I suppose there are millions or billions of people in the world who wake up every morning feeling worse than I feel after chemo, but I still don't like it. I have no pain or nausea, only a general sense of "unwellness." I'm hoping to feel better by afternoon so I can get some work done at the office. It's quite remarkable that my blood tests are still showing favorable numbers after 9 chemo treatments. They didn't run a tumor marker test (CA 125) this time, so we'll have to wait a couple of weeks for an update on that.

Your love and encouragement mean the world to us.

Blessings,
Carol

Thankful

Yesterday afternoon's chemo hit hard. Chuck says we need to trust that it's hitting the cancer cells even harder than it's hitting my person. Good idea!

I'm thanking the Lord for bringing Jeff (Sue's husband/Jeremy's dad) here safely. He worked all day yesterday, then drove through the night arriving at 5:30 a.m. He's that eager to meet the DeValves with whom Jeremy will be living in Niger. We're all really looking forward to our dinner together this evening. I'm thankful that Sue is here to prepare the meal; I don't think I'll contribute much today.

It was great to get back to the office yesterday morning and re-connect with my colleagues. I was able to check the final product of the magazine layout and get it sent out on CDs to the offices that are waiting for them. I also deleted about 500 spam e-mails. The rest of the work will have to wait until I get some energy back.

A Sunday School friend sent a charming fable. A woman in China walked to the village well every morning to draw water, which she carried home in two clay pots hanging from the ends of a stick across her shoulders. One was perfect, the other cracked. Every day she arrived home with one and a half pots of water. In time, the cracked pot became very down on itself for its poor performance. But the owner said, "Haven't you noticed that the trail is lined with beautiful flowers on your side of the track? I knew from the beginning that you would leave drops of water, so I planted flower seeds along your side. All these years I have enjoyed bouquets of flowers in my home and blooms along my path, thanks to the life-giving water that leaked through your cracks."

I realize that all my life I've probably seemed like a "crackpot" to some people, but now cancer has put large "cracks in my pot." I ask the Lord to allow drops of life-giving water to seep out and nourish those along my path.

Catching up on e-mail brought news of many friends who are carrying heavy burdens. One friend asks prayer for a 9-year-old boy whose brain cancer has returned. Another friend's father now needs round-the-clock care. Can his mother and brother find the stamina to provide it? The only other option is to deplete their modest savings on nursing home care. And our friend with cancer is beginning to feel the predicted effects of his daily radiation. I know that within your circle of friends you also find a number of crushing burdens. May God answer our prayers for them!

I'm thankful for you.
Love,
Carol

Future Mercies

We were happy to see "our" swan family still intact in front of our lake house in Indiana. The cygnets appear to be adolescents already!

God gave us a safe and pleasant trip home Monday, and we thanked Him as we drove into our garage. A dear neighbor had mowed our grass (twice, it turns out) and God had sent rain, so things are looking good. We enjoyed tomatoes from our own plants on our dinner salad.

I read in my collection of Puritan prayers this morning, "Prayers arising from my needs are preparations for future mercies." My prayers during the night and this morning rise out of apprehension over another chemo treatment and whatever the blood tests might reveal. I was awake awhile in the night (peaceably) and this old song by Tommy Dorsey kept singing in my brain and soul:
"Precious Lord, take my hand, Lead me on, help me stand;
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light;
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home."

I'm not feeling especially tired, weak or worn, but still the words resonate; I do want to walk through this day and coming days hand in hand with my Lord.

"When my way grows drear, precious Lord, linger near--
When my life is almost gone;
Hear my cry, hear my call, hold my hand lest I fall;
Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home."

Today Jeremy begins his internship at SIM in preparation for a half year of service in Niger. May God hold his hand too!

Thanks for your prayers.
Carol

So Good so Far

Two final photos from the trip. The first is one of the formations in the Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Directly above is a view of the Avenue of the States at Mount Rushmore in South Dakota, with the carvings of four U.S. presidents towering high overhead.

We are now in Indiana, and will leave early Monday for our 12-hour drive back to Charlotte. Grandson Jeremy and daughter Sue just arrived and will travel with us. Jeremy begins his internship at SIM on Tuesday. Sue is eager to meet the family he will be living with in Niger beginning in October. So is her husband Jeff, who will drive through the night Tuesday in order to be with us on Wednesday when the DeValve family will have dinner with us at our home. (They'll be in Charlotte for only a few days.)

May I ask you to pray for Jeremy? He's only 18, and is beginning a very challenging commitment. Niger ranks as the poorest nation on earth, and the town where he'll live with the DeValves is very far from modern life. He so much wants to serve God and help people. He's the last to leave home, so Sue and Jeff need prayer too.

I can't express how grateful I am for your prayers. I have felt amazingly well. (The only day I needed a nap was the day of the urinary tract infection.) I still have some chemo effects, but I'm positive that the cancer isn't eating me up right now. I plan to spend Tuesday morning at the office, to be sure that the files for the newly designed magazine are safely in the hands of the various offices that will use them. Then I have another chemo scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. I really don't want to be wiped out as I was last time. God is able, and God is good.

Love,
Carol, for Chuck too

Towards the Rising Sun

We're on the way back to Indiana. What wonders we've seen! I'm sorry it hasn't worked out to be in touch for a few days, and I appreciate that you're still checking on us. Thanks.

We got back to the Garden of the Gods for another stroll among those magnificent red rock monoliths. Our day at Mount Rushmore was beautiful and fun. There's a museum where displays show the technical side of carving the massive presidential faces out of solid granite. In the evening we returned to the amphitheater for a ranger talk, a movie about the four presidents displayed (Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Theodore Roosevelt), the striking of the colors, and illumination of the carving. They invited all military veterans present to go to the stage and tell their names and place of service. Very moving! Our last stops in South Dakota were at "world-famous Wall Drug" and the Badlands (they really are "bad").

We finished memorizing Psalm 65 with this:
You crown the year with a bountiful harvest;
[We've been driving through abundant harvests of grain!]
Even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.
The wilderness becomes a lush pasture, and the hillsides blossom with joy.
The meadows are clothed with flocks of sheep,
And the valleys are carpeted with grian.
They all shout and sing for joy!

I'm feeling so well. Thanks for your prayers.
Joyfully,
Carol

Purple Mountain Majesties

Today we visited Pike's Peak. It was Brrry cold at such a high elevation. We should have been able to see in all directions for miles, but for the heavy cloud that covered us and the entire top of the mountain. The road up was exciting, with lots of great views. And on the way down, we were blessed to see a family of 11 bighorn sheep. A park ranger stood beside us taking pictures as fast as he could. He was deeply moved by the sight. He's worked in that park for 41 years, and said it's been many years since the sheep have come that close to the road. What a thrill to be so near to these beautiful animals!

It was after a visit to Pike's Peak that the author of "America the Beautiful" penned the poem containing the words, "For purple mountain majesties above the fruited plain."

After our return to Colorado Springs, we hiked a trail in the Garden of the Gods, a huge park among massive red rock formations. The rain (a typical afternoon occurrence this time of year) came before we were satisfied, so we're going to try to get up early and walk another trail in the morning before we head out for the Black Hills in South Dakota.

Today we worked on this from Psalm 65:
You faithfully answer our prayers with awesome deeds,
O God our Savior.
You are the hope of everyone on earth,
Even those who sail on distant seas.

Now we have only 3 more verses to memorize, and then we'll spend the rest of the trip reviewing the entire psalm. I have to admit that Calli and Gavin master it before I do.

I'm feeling well, thank the Lord. All of us felt the thinness of the air at 14,000+ altitude, but I was no worse than anyone else. My energy level is about normal. Can you believe it?

Thanks for your love.
Carol

Mesa Verde

From about 750 to 1200 A.D. the Ancestral Puebloanos lived among these unique canyons. Today we visited several of the cliffs where they secluded their homes. Karin felt ill all day and had to miss all our touring. She seems to feel better this evening. I'm thankful to say that I'm feeling much better. I thinkI've figured out why the toenail infection progressed so quickly. The day we walked up The Narrows (at Zion), I chose not to remove my wet shoes and socks, because I hate putting wet things back on. So my feet were soaking wet for most of the day. I guess I need to learn to be more careful until chemo is finished. Anyway, I'm continuing to treat both infections and I trust they'll clear up soon.

We're starting the final week of our trip. What a lot of beauty we've seen!

Blessings,
Carol

Back in Touch--at Last!

Here we are wading "The Narrows" in Zion National Park. That was Wednesday. Several people had recommended this hike, and we loved it. Needless to say, the McGraths went lots further up the river than we did.



















Thursday we drove to the Grand Canyon, and we spent Friday there. I'm glad you've all at least seen photographs of that incredible place, because I'm not eloquent enough to describe it anyway. The McGraths hiked 5 miles down the South Kaibab Trail--a challenging hike indeed, but judging by the photos they brought back, thoroughly wonderful. Chuck and I contented ourselves along the rim, including a trip for all of us out to Pima Point at sunset. The wildfires along the North Rim create a pall of smoke that somewhat dims the view, but it's splendid nevertheless.

Now I'm looking out our camper door at the high point of land that is Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado. We have already purchased our tickets for ranger-guided tours of a couple of the best cliff dwellings tomorrow.

All these days among the canyons we've been without internet access. I'm glad to be back in touch. Thanks for caring and praying for us. I've connected with a couple of opportunistic infections (chemo opens doors to such things): a rampant toenail fungus and a urinary tract infection. Thank God, the day I discovered the nail fungus was the day we found a Walmart and got some over-the-counter medicines that relieved the pain almost immediately. And the day of the UTI, we were camped only a mile from the Grand Canyon Clinic; within a half hour we were walking out with an effective antibiotic. We are so blessed!

The day we toured Zion, we memorized the following from Psalm 65:
What mighty praise, O God, belongs to You in Zion.
We will fulfill our vows to You, for You answer our prayers,
and to You all people will come.

Today as we traveled we worked on this:
Though our hearts are filled with sins, You forgive them all.
What joy for those You choose to bring near;
Those who live in Your holy courts.
What joys await us inside Your holy temple.

We'll be here at Mesa Verde tomorrow night, and then we head for Colorado Springs. So from now on we should be in civilization from time to time.

Love,
Carol..for Chuck and the McGraths too