Twice Two Was Not Four

I'm so excited to tell you this. Yesterday afternoon I told my sister-in-law that I'd asked you to pray for her that morning. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "That's why I had such a sudden relief from pain this morning!" Now, God is so kind that I know He wanted to give her relief anyway, but isn't it wonderful to be part of that miracle? Natural healing, which is itself a miracle, would have kicked in eventually but probably not for another day or two. Thank you, prayer partners, and thank You, God.

Several years ago we were camping in the mountains and a couple from Winston-Salem befriended us. We clicked, and have maintained the friendship. Yesterday afternoon they were walking out their door to come and see us when the wife tripped, fell down a couple of steps to the brick patio, and snapped her femur. By evening she was in surgery having a hip replacement. We're so sad. We hope to be able to go there and see them today or tomorrow. Would you please pray for Jo?

My oncologist called yesterday. He's considering various options for revising my treatment in view of the rising CA 125 numbers, and will have a plan to recommend when we see him Tuesday afternoon. We appreciate him so much and we're praying that God will give him wisdom.

I'm having a wonderful time with Eugene Peterson's book, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places. Last evening I read this: "Because God, and therefore the worship of God, cannot be reduced to the rational, song has always been basic to the act of worship. Music is not added to the words to make them more pleasing; it is integral to the way the words are being used as openings to the transcendent, as windows to the mystery, as joining in the dance of the Trinity. Any approach to salvation that does not eventually become worship, and the sooner the better, distorts and reduces salvation to a concept or a program or a technique that we can master and therefore control. But of course, if we can do it or at least manage it, it is no longer salvation. . . . Salvation is God doing for us what we cannot do for ourselves." (No wonder songs have been so important in this walk I'm taking with God through cancer.) If you go to church tomorrow, as we plan to, I hope the songs we sing will help us "join in the dance of the Trinity."

Love,
Carol

That chewing sound you hear

That chewing sound you hear is me eating my words. A few months ago I wrote that in all my years of editing the magazine, I've never had a designer meet a deadline. Our wonderful designer at Relevant Media Group has beat the last two deadlines by several days each time. And at the same time he's given us a stunning design. The layout for the issue about ministries of compassion has now been sent to the various SIM entities around the world who will publish and distribute it in their own countries--and I can start on the next one, which is about partnering. As soon as I finish eating my negative words.

And now I need to force my mind to spit out some words. As I was waking up this morning, I actually heard my mind saying, "I don't think I'm going to make it." Well, I don't know, actually. But we're not going to waste precious time wallowing in dank thoughts like that. I'm going to live today, by God's grace, pushing all the way out to the edges of His redemption. (I can understand the pessimism; the cough and cold stole the energy and wellbeing I normally expect during the non-chemo week. And disappointing news from the lab has its effect as well. But God's voice is more clear and compelling: "Fear not.")

Please pray for my dear sister-in-law. She can't tolerate most pain meds, which results in nearly intolerable pain from her hip replacement on Wednesday. I'm asking God to make the natural healing kick in ahead of schedule so she'll get some relief.

I hope your day will be great.

Love,
Carol

P.S. More on blood test

That wonderful lab director who called me yesterday must have worked overtime! The report was waiting at the doctor's office this morning. The number by old method, which can be compared with previous tests, is 60.66. That's not the direction we were praying for, but nothing else has changed!

Please read on down.

Carol

Fear Not

Fear not, for I am with you;
Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you,
I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
For I, the Lord your God,
Will hold your right hand,
Saying to you,
"Fear not, I will help you."
Isaiah 41:10 & 13

You will not fear the terror of night,
Nor the arrow that flies by day,
Nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
Nor the plague that destroys at midday.
Psalm 91:5-6

Then His disciples came to Him and awoke Him saying,
"Lord, save us! We are perishing!"
But He said to them,
"Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?"
Matthew 8:25-26

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,
Because he trusts in You.
Isaiah 26:3

The peace of God, which transcends all understanding,
Will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:7

God is our refuge and strength,
An ever present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear,
Though the earth give way
And the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
Though its waters roar and foam
And the mountains quake with their surging.
Psalm 46:1-3

---

I'll admit it. Today's blog is for Chuck and me, and you're welcome to peer over our shoulders. Our hearts want to quake with the news that my tumor marker numbers are rising again. While we wait for clarification from the lab about the scope of the increase, we're tuning our ears to hear God say, "Fear not." What we know so far is in the posting below.

Love,
Carol

CA 125 Frustration

We got the report on yesterday's tumor marker blood test, and unfortunately it shows a rise in the numbers. (Remember this fact: it's only a number. God alone knows what He's planning to do. This is our committed position.)

Following are some boring details; please don't feel you need to wade through this paragraph. The frustration is that this particular lab is the one that switched to a new automated method, and as of September 1 they no longer do an "old method" evaluation as well. That means we don't have a good trend comparison. In August the new method # was about 80 while the old method # was 50. Now the new method # is about 100. That sounds like a huge rise. But the lab director I talked to said it's impossible to extrapolate from new to old method, so she wouldn't even guess how significant this rise is in comparison to the old method numbers that have hovered in the 50s since late spring. She was wonderful, and offered to go find my sample and run it again tomorrow by the old method so we'd have a more accurate comparison.

So all I have to report now is that the number has gone up but we don't know how badly. I won't know by tomorrow morning's posting, and maybe not at all until Friday. At least (assuming she can find my sample) the oncologist should have good comparative numbers before we see him on Tuesday.

God is still our peace and our Rock.

Carol

Great Night's Sleep

We're both thankful for a truly good sleep last night. I'm hoping my cough will clear up soon. When we get the report on the CA 125, I'll post it here.

Jeremy's Monday blog is a poem--so expressive of my desire that I'm quoting it here. I know some of you also read his, so this will be a repeat for you.

My breathing fails
I’m taken away
Brought before God almighty
To hear what He has to say
I’m brought before His throne
He rises from the judgment seat
The elders bow, the angels sing
As he slowly approaches me
I cower in holy terror
His presence is too much to talk
He softly whispers in my ear
“My child! Let’s go for a walk.”
He leads me down the streets of gold
As we walk hand in hand
I tell Him all my hopes and dreams
He tells me His master plan
How it was woven together
Each thread was designed
And not until it was over
Could I see how they were aligned
My body was orchestrated
My life was a symphony
Composed by the Lord himself
Resounding in harmony
Each knot cannot stand alone
It must be blended in the whole
And in the complex score
It resonates in the soul
I can see it all now
Why there’s sin in the world
Why God lets bad things happen
Why Satan was unfurled
It was all to bring God glory
By standing against Satan’s prod
Turning down all of the world
Saying, “No, I’d rather have God.”
Then Jesus whispers in my ear
My soul leaps as I discern it
The words I’ve waited to hear
“Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

Our Sunday School teacher says God's purpose in creating us was so He could take walks with us. Won't that be the day!

Love,
Carol

Alive without breathing?

One more quote about prayer, this one from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr: "To be a Christian without prayer is no more possible than to be alive without breathing." Well, still one more, from Arthur Pink: "Prayer is not so much an act as it is an attitude--an attitude of dependency, dependency upon God." These are lessons I'm learning. "Fully Rely On God."

It's silly, I guess, but when you have cancer small things seem potentially serious. My cough and tiredness led me to call the doctor's nurse yesterday--after I learned that someone I hugged last week ended up in hospital with pneumonia. The doctor sent me for a chest x-ray, and the report quickly came back "all clear, except for scar tissue." Well, it's good to know there's no pneumonia. But scar tissue? I haven't had lung disease or surgery. I think I'll have to call today and ask them to check again. In any case, we continue to pray that the cough will clear up and I'll get my strength back.

Nothing can touch our lives that has not first passed through God's loving, protective, encircling hands. We rest in Him.

Blessings,
Carol

Jeremy's blog address

Jeremy's blog is jeremyinafrica.blogspot.com. A few of you have asked for that. His e-mail is mulletboy17@gmail.com. He'll probably have internet access only once a month.

Almost a year ago we had to say goodby to our much-loved pastor, Charles Page, who went home after nine years of living with multiple myeloma. Yesterday we had to say goodby to his wonderful executive pastor, Tom Crow, and his wife Jackie; they're moving to another city. Oh! We'll miss them! Next week Thursday we'll have to say goodby to Jeremy when he leaves for Niger. Missionaries tell us that saying goodby is one of the hardest things they have to live with. The time will come when we'll say "Goodby" to goodbyes forever!

Several days ago I wrote about my feeling that so far cancer has done me more good than harm, and I said I know I'm going to die some day unless Jesus comes for all of us first. I'm not among those who shrill, "The end is near," because times are so bad. The times have always been bad for some people in some places. Still, He will come and He could come any time. I hadn't realized that one-fifth of the Bible is prophecy, and one-third of those prophecies relate to His second coming. There are 224 Old Testament prophecies still to be fulfilled when He comes again. Jesus Himself spoke 25 times about His return. And In the New Testament there are more than 50 exhortations for us to be ready for His coming. My grandmother lived every day with the hope that He would come that day. She got to make her private journey to heaven 21 years ago and I'm sure she was content with that. She, along with the rest of heaven's occupants, is now surely anticipating the day when God will bring everything together in Christ and set everything right--just as He promised. Now that's a thought to live with today.

I'm not back to full energy yet but feeling pretty well, and I plan to go to the office today. I'm so grateful for your prayers. The CA 125 test I get tomorrow should have a report by Wednesday, and I'll post the result as soon as I hear. Let's agree ahead of time, though, that whatever it is, it's still only a number and God's the one in control here, okay?

Our Sunday School friend with lung cancer has his scan tomorrow. My loving sister-in-law has hip replacement Wednesday. A dear prayer partner needs a job. God, You are able and faithful!

Blessings,
Carol

Darkness . . . Brightness

"The Gift of Suffering." This is one of the readings in the dear little book, Praying Through Cancer. My former pastor's wife, herself a contributor to the book, sent it to me months ago and it continues to bless my dark days. Page 78 quotes Madame Guyon, a deeply spiritual Christian of the 17th century: "I have learned to love the darkness of sorrow; there you see the brightness of His face." May it be so!

My throat is better, my head less "poundy." Casablanca, which we saw on the big screen yesterday, was wonderful. (It's hard to imagine a movie in which marriage is honored above a love affair.) Chuck and Jeremy accompanied me without complaint, and even said they'd enjoyed it.

Today is Jeremy's last Sunday with us. Next weekend he'll make a farewell visit to his home and church, and the following weekend he'll be in Niger. We'll miss him.

Thanks for your prayers.

Carol

Twice Two Not Be Four

Monday's leader at our prayer chapel gave us a sheet of quotes about prayer. She thought this one sounded way out, but the more we considered it, the more we saw its truth. Ivan Turgenev said, "Whatever we pray for, we pray for a miracle. Every prayer reduces itself to this: 'Great God, grant that twice two be not four.'" We were praying for SIM workers, of course, at chapel. She said it's the most natural thing in the world that our workers in South Asia, surrounded by people hostile to Jesus and living in very difficult conditions should become discouraged. That would be 2 + 2 = 4. So when we pray for their encouragement, we're asking that "twice two not be four." I thought about the prayers God has answered over the years, and I saw it was true. He suspended the natural order of things in response to prayer. For example, the terrible mistakes I made as a parent should have produced totally dysfunctional adult children (2+2=4). But God in His grace overruled the math and has made them loving, gracious and growing people (twice two not four). And even though I felt hard hit by kemo this week, I still recognize that God has answered your prayers for me. I've had 14 courses of chemo-therapy, and 2 + 2 should = devastating disabilities by now. Instead, I'm enjoying at least 10 good days every two weeks.

Yes, I'm feeling better this morning. Sorry to say, my throat is a little sore. I didn't want to mention that, but I'm committed to the full truth. So I'll be grateful for prayers that it doesn't indicate a serious problem and will clear up soon.

This afternoon Casablanca is playing at a resort theater in town. I like that movie so much, and never thought to see it on the big screen. My two boyfriends (Chuck and Jeremy) have graciously agreed to go with me. I don't suppose it's their favorite.

Jeremy has been meeting with a lovely French tutor every day this week, and is doing very well. Until this, he's been totally self-taught by computer language program and on the internet. What discipline it takes to make that much progress on his own! He'll be glad to be conversant when he gets to Niger in less than two weeks. Many people in his town also speak Hausa, so he's begun to work on that language as well, and he really likes it. We're having a little farewell for him before Sunday School tomorrow morning, Krispy Kremes and all. We beat him up last evening at Rummikub.

The bleeding in our friend's eye appears to have stopped, and in a couple of weeks the doctor plans laser surgery that should fix his problem. Thanks for praying. A dear friend needs prayer for a job. Our prayer list grows--along with our faith as we see God answer.

Love,
Carol

Friday morning posting

Our computer is having problems with the internet, so I'm borrowing someone else's and putting up Friday's posting on Thursday evening. (In case we're still not up and running Friday morning, I don't want anyone to worry.)

After posting the Thursday morning blog I went back to bed and it turned out to be a not-good morning. I listened to beautiful worship music and I sensed God’s presence, but still I lay in my tousled bed—curled up in a pathetic mess of misery, trying not to vomit and feeling about as low as I felt last December in the hospital. I even wondered if this is how it feels to begin to die. That’s how Chuck found me when he came home at noon. He put up the awning, arranged cushions on the chaise, and persuaded me to move to the patio. Then the mail arrived with a package for me. I’m awed by the timeliness and beauty of the gift.

Our former neighbors worship at University Lutheran Church in East Lansing, Michigan. One of their many ministries is a service group called “Prayers and Squares.” Last Sunday four Prayer Quilts were displayed at the back of the sanctuary, and worshipers were encouraged to stop and tie a knot in a quilt and offer a prayer for the cancer patient named on the quilt. So here I am—wrapped in warm love and prayers, thanks to our neighbors and their church. There are 99 knots, so I think the quilt represents at least 99 prayers.

Included was a deeply moving Presentation liturgy, with a reading from Hebrews 12:1-3 and Philippians 1:3-6. Then this: Carol Wilson, receive this quilt as an expression of love and support by your brothers and sisters in Christ at University Lutheran Church. When you wrap yourself in this quilt may you be warmed and wrapped in prayer.

Let us pray.

Gracious God, source of all healing and comfort, we give you thanks for your gifts of strength and life, and especially for the gift of your son, Jesus Christ. Enfold Carol in your loving embrace and grant her comfort, healing, and peace. Amen. The Peace of the Lord be with you. And also with you.

I have joyful tears as I type this. What a good and perfect gift!

Can you see the bracelet on my left wrist? Another Michigan friend sent one for each of us. The beads spell FROG, and we wear them all the time as another reminder to Fully Rely On God.

So now it's Thursday evening, and I feel better; I hope the worst is past for this time.

We've prayed before for my childhood friend who has so many physical challenges. Her eyes are very bad, and her blood tests now keep saying kidney failure is imminent. Her husband begins six weeks of radiation for his cancer next week. Please lift up a prayer for these dear people. And thanks for your prayers for me.

Love,
Carol

Shiphrah and Puah--new girlfriends

Okay, now, the title for today probably makes you think I've totally lost it. These are the names of the two midwives (in their day, of the lowest social and economic class) who dared to defy the Egyptian king Pharaoh when he commanded them to kill all the boy babies at birth. Imagine! The king had absolute power, life-or-death power, and yet they disobeyed him, choosing life over death for many babies--including Moses and Aaron who would later be God's human instruments of salvation for millions of Israelites. (It's all in the book of Exodus.) I'm still reading Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, by Eugene Peterson, and yesterday I found this amazing tribute to the role of the ordinary and the personal in God's grand action of salvation. I see Shiphrah and Puah also as models of courage in the face of evil, no matter how powerful it is and no matter how marginal and weak we seem.

Weak would be the word right now. I didn't sleep as well yesterday as I normally do after kemo, but I could do nothing but lie in bed. I think today will be the same. God answered prayer and I was able to do some profitable reading and also enjoyed some wonderful worship music. He is good!

I'm having trouble with digestion. Everything I eat or drink feels like it packs up in my esophagus and crowds my throat. It's happened before following kemo, but seems worse this time. By tomorrow I think I'll be normal again. Oh! How I appreciate your prayers for me, and for Chuck too.

Love,
Carol

Searching

I discovered a wonderful artist/poet, and his work is enriching my life. This is his painting titled "Lost Coin."






Here are excerpts from his poem “Searching.”


Searching
James Hasse, S.J.

When I do a painting, I am searching.
When I pray, I am searching.
When I look in the mirror, I am searching.
When I walk down the street, my eyes are constantly searching.
Why?
Have I lost something?
No.
I search because I have found something.
I search to find God more in everyone and in all things.
The more I find of this precious treasure the easier it is to find more,
And so I constantly search.

As I search, I find and am found.
The woman in the Gospel searches for her lost coin.
Or is the parable about God searching for us?
When we are lost, when we try to hide
God gets a broom out, bends over, and searches:
Underneath, behind, between every hiding place until we are found.

Even more important than the paintings produced from my searching
Is what God seems to be creating in me.
God is blessing me with the gift of contemplation,
A big prayer word which simply means
Looking at everything with deep love.

If my art helps me and others to see ourselves
And love each other as God sees and loves us,
Our search has been successful.
We have been found.

Big thanks to you for praying and to God for His help with chemo yesterday. The vein situation is not good, and the nurses and I think it's time to get a port installed. We'll discuss it with the doctor in two weeks. I did finally get "hooked up" and the rest of the afternoon went fine. I'm tired, but not suffering. In fact, last evening I watched the News Hour on public T-V because I was interested in the U.N. General Assembly held yesterday.

You'll probably remember that next Tuesday I'm having another CA 125 test--and praying for a low number. Thanks to all who have posted comments here or have sent personal e-mails of encouragement. When I get some zip back, I'll try to write to you individually.

Don't forget to FROG (Fully Rely On God).

Love,
Carol

Editing Rights

As an editor I claim editing rights, because ultimately I am responsible for the quality of the magazine. But sometimes the original authors don't like that arrangement; once I even had to scrap an entire story because the author so vigorously protested my attempts to fix her confusing style and poor grammar. That's why I was so struck by a quotation given in our morning prayer chapel yesterday:

"God has editing rights over our prayers. He will . . . edit them, correct them, bring them in line with His will, and then hand them back to us to be resubmitted." -Stephen Crotts

I like this arrangement! Not only is He ultimately responsible for the way things turn out, He is also the smartest Person in the universe. I feel safe having Him as the Editor of my prayers.

Sweet Kemo is at 2:00 this afternoon. I'm gathering my favorite CDs and a light-weight book beside my bed, trusting God to keep me mentally and spiritually alert enough to enjoy them. I'd like Him to use the next two or three days of enforced stillness to draw me closer to Him.

May He do that for you too!

Carol

Still I will say . . . Blessed

I mentioned this song yesterday:

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful,
Where the streams of abundance flow, blessed be Your name.
Blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place,
When I walk through the wilderness, blessed be Your name.

Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me;
When the world's all as it should be, blessed be Your name.
Blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering;
Though there's pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.

Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise;
When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say,
Blessed be the name of the Lord, blessed be Your name.

You give and take away, my heart will choose to say,
"Lord, blessed be Your name."
by Matt and Beth Redman

I hope you sing this song in your church or hear it on your radio or CD. I'm glad to have songs like this to remind me where my heart is.

We had a cool answer to our prayer for a young friend for Jeremy for his remaining time here. Saturday he was running, stopped to play with the dog of neighbor friends of ours, and their grandson came out to meet him. He's staying with them for a few months. So we had them all over for lunch yesterday and later in the afternoon Jeremy went back to spend a little more time with him.

I'm reading the biography of Michael Cassidy, the remarkable South African who founded African Enterprise. Again, I'm asking the Lord to give me mental and spiritual alertness following my kemo tomorrow so I can enjoy music and a bit of reading in between the sleeping. Thanks so much for your continuing prayers.

Blessings,
Carol

Knee, Voice, Hands, Feet, and Soul

I've been thinking how "body" relates to soul. God certainly intends all of us--body, soul and spirit--to respond to Him. I got stuck in the second chapter of Philippians for a few days, and once I overlooked the paragraph headings, I found a wonderful sequence of body responses. Verse 10 - every knee will bow to Jesus
Verse 11 - every tongue will confess He is Lord
Verse 12 - put into action God's saving work in your lives, obeying God with deep reverence and fear. (I figure this takes hands and feet and all the rest.)
Verse 13 - For God is working in you, giving you the desire to obey Him and the power to do what pleases Him. (See? None of it is worth a stick unless it comes from the soul, the "desire and power.")

Last night Jeremy and I sang and played our way through his wonderful book, All the Best Songs of Praise and Worship. It was so good! We made up in volume and enthusiasm what we certainly lacked in finesse and accuracy. "Blessed Be Your Name" rang in my mind through the night.

Yesterday I finally called a woman I'd been urged to call way back in January. At that time she was in remission from ovarian cancer. I found out that her remission lasted only 5 months, and by February her tumor marker count was zooming up again; chemo is again bringing it down. Hers wasn't as high-stage as mine to begin with. Her quick relapse reminds me to be diligent in my anti-cancer regimen, and most especially in prayer and Fully Relying On God. And to be thankful! Even if I never achieve a medically defined remission, my life is full and rich. God is good.

Blessings,
Carol

Happy Weekend

We wanted to take Jeremy camping on the Blue Ridge Parkway this weekend. He's so sweet to never complain about how dull life must be for him here with his friends far away, and we thought it would be fun. But Chuck and I simply ran out of steam and time and couldn't do it. Seem like we used to be able to do anything we set our minds to do.

A rousing game of Rummikub last evening kept us up past our usual elderly bedtime. When we finally quit, I was the not-so-gracious loser and Jeremy was closing in on the "basement" spot. It really was fun. Today I look forward to baking a made-from-scratch lemon meringue pie--Jeremy's favorite. And staying in town means we get to go to our Sunday school class tomorrow.

--------------------------
A few years ago, a teenaged missionary kid wrote about her dad's cancer. She has given permission for me to share the piece with you.
So Much in Just SIX LETTERS (by Hannah Guhr, 16 years old. She is now married.)
I smile sometimes when I'm introduced as the "artist." Those six little letters have the power to raise eyebrows and evoke "OHs" f rom perfect strangers who react as if they already know me. I smile and imagine them imagining me barefoot, splashed with paint and gnawing on a chunk of tofu. I smile because the image they conceive is so far from the truth. Actually I think of myself as an artist last, a Christian first, and a daughter, sister and friend somewhere in between. But most people don't get that far. Most people only see the first six letters.

My father smiles because he also has a six letter title attached to his name. An even more potent word with the power to make strangers of friends and friends of strangers. Those six letters are cancer. But my father only smiles, and few can fathom why. They see cancer as a dark shadow that eclipses life, a disease that harms, robs and kills. But to my father, those six letters spell nothing less than a gift. A gift given by the One who will not give stones for bread.
My father has a father that smiles. A heavenly father. And to Him, six letters are a lot. For Him, a word was enough to communicate Himself perfectly to men. And that Word was His Son, sent to bear the six letter title that no one else could bear on our behalf ... guilty. And when He wore it on the cross, that word was enough to buy life for any one who would receive Him. And the Father smiled. The blood of the innocent had paid, once for all, the ransom of the guilty. Jesus, in obedience had fulfilled his father's will.

One day my father, my Savior and I will exchange our six letter titles for better ones. I will exchange artist for saint. And when my Savior returns for his saints He will exchange guilty for glorified...His title by right. And my father? Like the Savior, he will never be a victim. He will willingly offer up the life he owes. And one day he will cash in cancer for crowns, and will have the joy, in turn, to place those crowns back at the feet of the Savior... the Savior that gave me the gift of art, and him the gift of suffering and both of us the gift of eternal life. (Thanks, Hannah.)
---------------

Have a blessed weekend.

Love,
Carol

For God's Sake

Sometimes people say "For God's sake" irreverently, as a profanity. But what if we say it with reverence and awe? We do our work--or our play--for His sake. We pray and love--for His sake. By His grace we patiently bear unpleasant situations--for His sake. I think "For God's Sake" can be a good motto for today.

I read in a missionary's letter about three necessary Ps. They make sense to me!
Prayer
Perseverance
Patience

It wouldn't be a mistake to add a fourth P: People. Exasperating though they can be, this life is meant to be lived in community--and that means People. I need them! (And almost all the people in my life are wonderful, not exasperating.)

Yesterday I waded through a stack of papers on my desk generally classified as "To Do Sometime." What a relief! One more day of that and I'll be free to start working on the next edition of the SIM magazine.

I feel well. Thanks for your prayers. I'm praying--again--that God will keep me mentally and spiritually alert following kemo next Tuesday. He did it last time in answer to our prayers, and I was able to have fellowship with Him through music, reading and praying even when my body was practically shut down for a few days. Come to think of it, it would be wise for all of us to pray to be kept mentally and spiritually alert every day, wouldn't it?

To contribute to our laughter therapy, friends continue to send jokes. I thought this one was worth at least a chuckle: "The new Supermarket near our house has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh. Just before it goes on, you hear the sound of a thunderstorm and the smell of fresh rain. When you approach the milk cases, you hear cows mooing and witness the scent of fresh butter fat. When you approach the egg case, you hear hens cackle and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of eggs frying. So far I have been too afraid to go down the toilet paper aisle."

Love,
Carol

More Good than Harm

I finished sleeping before we had to get up this morning, so I had a good time thinking. I came to the clear conclusion that thus far cancer has done me more good than harm. I may need to think this through more carefully, but for now I can give at least a few reasons:

Renewal of many almost-forgotten friendships

Enforced STOP, which has produced reflection, willingness to accept help, and repentance for the harm I have caused others through thoughtlessness, haste, and busyness

Ever-deepening relationships with Chuck, our daughters and their husbands, our grandchildren, and--may God permit--our new great-grandson who lives way too far away

Closer ties with my siblings and their spouses and with cousins

Multi-sensory appreciation of the lavish gifts of creation

Heightened awareness of the preciousness of each day and the gifts of grace it brings

Amazing fellowship of prayer--and stronger confidence that God answers prayer

Full Reliance On God (sometimes I wonder whether I trusted Him at all before cancer!)

Personal concern of hundreds of busy people in our mission around the world

More compassion in my heart for others who are suffering

Thankfulness for body gifts (breathing, sight, hearing, touch, movement, taste, etc.) which I used to take for granted

I'm sure there are other ways to grow in these areas but for me, apparently, cancer has been the school of choice. I'm not in denial. I know I'm going to die some day--of cancer or something else (unless Jesus comes back for all of us) and death is never pretty. But I'm convinced that God, Who has given so many gifts during this journey through cancer, also has a room full of gifts that are appropriate for the time of death. Although inexpressible joy is waiting on the other side of death, I want and plan to live longer on this earth first, God willing.

We received a somewhat clear explanation of the discrepancy in numbers from the CA 125 test. It appears that we were correct in thinking that the lower count (50.3) was relevant to the earlier test, and therefore reflects a slight drop. Our research shows tht CA 125 is not a very steady test, but in any case we'd rather have it going down than up. The oncologist wants it to drop below 15 before we can claim a remission. We all take it as a miracle that the kemo isn't doing more damage.

Thanks, as always, for your love and prayers.
Carol

Fear . . . or Not

My first thought this morning was, "Thank You for a really good night's sleep." It truly was that. But there were some moments . . .

I woke up before 11 p.m. with fear about something totally unrelated to cancer and over which I have absolutely no control. Still, I was afraid. I prayed, exercising my right and calling to Fully Rely On God. Then, since I was still awake, I prayed for many of you--especially those I know who have trouble sleeping and those facing medical challenges. And after awhile, I fell peacefully asleep. So I meant it; it was a really good night's sleep. And now I'm looking at two verses from the Bible (from Isaiah 41) that speak to our fears:

"Fear not, for I am with you;
Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you,
I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. . . .
For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand,
Saying to you,
'Fear not, I will help you.'"

As an old preacher said, "That's the word of a Gentleman." He will keep His word.

I'm feeling well. We watched a silly old movie last night, ate popcorn, and laughed a lot.

Love,
Carol

What's Really Important?

In yesterday's mail was a card with this: "In the last few years I have found 'stuff' to be more and more of a burden." And by e-mail a friend who serves with Wycliffe Bible Translators sent me a thought from their chapel service yesterday:

I have set the LORD always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body will also rest secure... (Psalm 16:8-9, NIV). "The goal of our mission is that people from all the nations worship the true God. But worship means cherishing the preciousness of God above all else, including life itself. It will be very hard to bring the nations to love God from a lifestyle that communicates the love of things. Therefore, God ordains in the lives of His messengers that suffering sever our bondages to the world. When joy and love survive this severing, we are fit to say to the nations with authenticity and power: 'Hope in God.'" ---John Piper, Let the Nations be Glad

I'm grateful for everything that happens that "severs bondage" to things, as long as joy and love survive and as long as we come to cherish the preciousness of God above all else. He is that!

Thanks so much for praying for my arm. I spoke with the kemo nurse yesterday, and while she will make a procedural change next time to prevent a recurrence, she says if it were becoming necrotic (a danger of one of the drugs we're using) it would be an open mess by now. (It was never terribly painful; it's only knowing what could happen that causes concern. That's probably true for much of life.)

Would you be willing to lift up a prayer for 25-year-old Heather? Her Christian mother and stepdad love her deeply, but she's an angry and sick woman. Diagnosed bi-polar, she doesn't take her medicine; she has abandoned two precious daughters, lives by mooching and stealing, and has physically threatened her parents. God loves her and He's the only one with power to do something and with wisdom to know what to do. Thanks.

Your love and prayers are a daily encouragement.

Love,
Carol

I know today is a day of sad memorial. We pray for those who are grieving losses on 9/11 and since then, and we also pray for honest government leaders everywhere to be guided by God’s wisdom in our very fragile world.

Sunday’s class did not disappoint. (I referred to our assignment in Hebrews 2 in my Friday blog.) Verse 10 is a summation of God’s purposes. “And it was only right that God—who made everything and for whom everything was made—should bring his many children to glory. Through the suffering of Jesus, God made him a perfect leader, one fit to bring them into their salvation.” God made each of us for His pleasure, but since humankind’s plunge away from Him, the pleasure He might have found in us was marred. Nevertheless He still pursued His plan to bring His children to “glory.” In the Bible, God’s glory is defined as His identity, Who He is, what He’s really like. So our teacher made the connection that our glory is who and what we were originally intended to be. That restoration is what’s meant by “salvation.” And it was accomplished by the suffering of Jesus. There’s a corollary here: if Jesus was called on to suffer, why ever should we think we should be exempt? Obviously, our suffering can’t result in anyone’s salvation. But surely it can accomplish God’s good purpose. I’m sorry—that’s not a very good summary. I wish you’d been there.

Sunday afternoon was quiet, except for the excitement of the U.S. Open. I’m thankful to say that my arm is no worse, though it’s still a bit sore. Sometimes I make a mental list of the usual side-effects of kemo that do not afflict me, and I feel like dancing with gratitude. Someone sent this in an e-mail: "Life may not be the party we'd hoped for, but as long as we're here we might as well dance."

Thanks for your prayers.

Love,
Carol

If God Had a Wallet

"If God had a wallet, your picture would be in it." Think about that! I read it in the book Song of Songs by Brian Simmons--his attempt to show just how personal is God's love for each one of us.

On Friday I teased you with a peak at the amazing story of Drs. Tracy and Patty Goen in Nigeria. I should have told you the easy way to find the rest of the story. Simply Google "Dr. Tracy Goen" and select the Christianity Today article.

Yesterday I asked you to pray about a slight problem at the khemo I-V site on my arm. Thank you so much for praying. It is definitely better. If not fully cleared up by Monday, I will call the doctor, but I'm less concerned than yesterday. God is so good!

And now I'll pass along a chuckle that came from a friend in Ethiopia.

One year, at Christmas time, my mom went to my sister's house for the traditional holiday feast. Knowing how gullible my sister is, my mom decided to play a trick. Right after my sister had put the turkey in the oven, my mom said she needed something from the store and asked if my sister wouldn't mind going out to get it. When my sister left the house, my mom took the turkey out of the oven, removed the mixed stuffing, inserted a Cornish hen into the turkey, re-stuffed the turkey with the dressing, and placed the bird(s) back into the oven. When it was time for dinner, my sister pulled the turkey out of the oven and proceeded to remove the stuffing. When her serving spoon hit something hard, she reached in and pulled out the little bird. With a look of total shock on her face, my mother exclaimed, "Barbara, you've cooked a pregnant bird!" At the reality of this horrifying news, my sister started to cry hysterically. It took the entire family almost two hours to convince her that turkeys lay EGGS!! YES, My sister is BLONDE! (For new readers, I'll explain that I switched to blonde when kemo made me bald and I had to wear a wig, and I've been blessed with blonde jokes ever since. Well, I admit I asked for jokes, because we all know that laughter is healing.)

I hope your Sunday is or was blessed.

Love,
Carol

Mystery and Wonder

As I waited for our dial-up to connect, I read the letter we received yesterday from our Sunday School teacher. Now I can't wait for class tomorrow morning. It's about the mystery and wonder of "Why Am I Here?" The assignment is to read chapters 1 and 2 of Hebrews, and focus on verse 10 of chapter 2. Tom says, "It's neither simple nor simplistic. If it were, it wouldn't be worth contemplating. . . . If you can celebrate mystery, including the glory and mystery of existence, love, salvation, and even suffering, join me for a wonder-filled hour Sunday morning." So as soon as I close this, I'm going to read Hebrews 1 and 2. Care to join me? On Monday I'll pass along a bit of what we learn.

As usual, I climbed out of the kemo hole yesterday and went to work for five hours. In the evening we joined some local friends for dinner with Pennsylvania friends who had come to town for a wedding. What precious treasures friends are! Jeremy came too; he's a treasure also.

I have a strange wrinkle from kemo this time, and I realize I should have called the doctor's office before they closed for the weekend. The I-V site is slightly swollen and warm, and several inches of that arm ache a little. It doesn't seem alarming yet. I'd be grateful if you'd pray with me that it all clears up. Thanks.

Have a blessed weekend.

Carol

Our Father

I'm so blessed; yet sometimes I fail to recognize and give thanks for my blessings. One of them is the ability to sleep so well. I understand that many people in kemo (and out of it too) can't. Last night as I was falling asleep, I began to pray through the Lord's Prayer. "Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name." I talked to Him for a moment about His wonderful name, and then a few hours later I woke up again. "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done." Again I talked briefly with Him about that and quickly fell asleep. And so on through the night. When I woke up this morning, I still hadn't gotten through "for Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever." Sounds like I'm not very attentive in prayer. But oh, I'm so thankful for sound sleep!

Yesterday was another bed day. But last evening I was able to go with Chuck and Jeremy to a dinner at which Dr. Tracy Goen spoke. He recounted amazing miracles of healing that God did in southwestern Nigeria in patients who were medically beyond hope. God used him and his doctor wife Patty and a Nigerian evangelist named Babangida to throw wide the doors to evangelize large segments of the Fulani people. (They are the largest nomadic group on earth, about 25-30 million spread across West Africa, who had vigorously resisted the good news about Jesus.) The dinner was sponsored by Project MedSend, a group that picks up med school debts for missionaries so they can get to their work without delay. Brilliant! Sure, I got tired, but it was worth it. And this morning I'm out of the deep kemo hole. I'll go to the office for at least part of the day.

By the way, Dr. Goen's story, including his being crowned as a king of the Fulani, was written in Christianity Today. If you'd like to read it, either post a comment here with your e-mail or e-mail me at carol.wilson@sim.org, and I'll send you the link.

In case you didn't check the past couple of days, I want to say again thanks for praying. I had wonderful hours of listening to great music (in and out of sleep), and read a few pages of good words for my soul. It's a big answer to prayer, because in the past I haven't been able to do that at all after kemo. I have a friend who calls it S.K. (Sweet Kemo). Cute, huh?

By the way, this would be a good time to check out Jeremy's blog. His posting on Wednesday, September 6, amazes me. jeremyinafrica.blogspot.com

Love,
Carol

As Promised . . .

Here's the swan family in front of our lake house in Indiana. We feel so blessed that they continue to stay in our little corner of the lake. The babies are catching up to the parents in size, aren't they?

God answered prayer. I stayed in bed all day, but enjoyed several hours of listening to CDs and about one hour of good reading. It's amazing how meaningful music can be when it's not mere background noise. Here are the words of the final song on Steven Curtis Chapman's album "All Things New."

What can I do / How can I live / To show my world / The treasure of Jesus?
What will it take / What could I give / So they can know / The treasure He is?
And if I can sing / Let my songs / Be full of His glory.
If I can speak / Let my words be full of His grace.
And if I should live or die / Let me be found / Pursuing this prize-- The One that alone satisfies / The treasure of Jesus.

And now I'm tired, so I'll head back to bed. Thanks for your love and prayers.

Carol

Still FROGgin'

This pewter dress pin is Chuck's anniversary gift to me. Another reminder to Fully Rely On God! We are blessed, aren't we, to follow One Who is fully reliable and Whose purposes are always perfect.

Eugene Peterson warns against making God into a mere idol--someone we use to get things done that we want. It's His kingdom that we seek, His will we pursue, His glory we desire. But it's easy to focus on my kingdom, my will, my glory--and use prayer as a genie with which to get my wishes granted. I visited a Hindu temple once, and I can't forget the sights: men rubbing honey and milk on the belly of grotesque images, chanting prayers, hoping to appease the "god" and secure his favor.

I'm tired today as a result of yesterday's kemo. I was somewhat nauseous during the treatment and also last evening, but that's better this morning. I'm sure I'll sleep today, but I also intend to listen to music and do some good reading. Somehow the fax with my CA 125 report never got into the doctor's hands, so he hadn't had an opportunity to figure out the discrepancy in the numbers and is as confused as we are. He said he'd call the lab and ask about it. He is really delighted by how well I feel (most of the time) and by my consistently positive regular blood work. That is surely a gift from God.

You are dear to continue to stand with us in caring and praying.

Love,
Carol

Life

God gave us a safe and pleasant trip home yesterday. We arrived home with energy and time to spare, so we got all unpacked and I prepared meals for the next two or three days since I don’t expect to feel like cooking for awhile after kemo. This will be #13. What a way to celebrate the 47th anniversary of our marriage on September 5! Actually, being alive and together is a big reason to celebrate.

I’m excited to see how God will answer my prayer for mental and spiritual energy to read, listen to music, and use the next few days of enforced stillness for drawing closer to Him.

I’m captivated by Eugene Peterson’s Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, the book I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. Today I read his stunning thoughts on St. John’s account of Christ’s life. One of the key aspects of this gospel is the story of Jesus’ “signs” (that is, miracles). You would think that after such spectacular demonstrations of His God-powers, the whole world would have believed Him and followed Him. But they didn’t. In fact, it was in connection with the “sign” of creating thousands of meals out of one small boy’s lunch that the text says, “After that, many of His followers went away and didn’t travel with Him anymore.”

I have a personal investment in this line of thinking. Sometimes people say that if God heals me (a miracle, in view of the medical predictions), it would build people’s faith in Him. I doubt it. People who have already decided not to believe in Him will probably continue in their unbelief no matter what. And people who are already trusting Him don’t need further proof, but I’m sure they’ll join us in thanking God for whatever He chooses to do. In other words, this cancer isn’t about me at all. Instead, it’s a platform on which God can demonstrate His extreme wisdom, goodness and worthiness—however long He keeps me here in this life. Right now I’m feeling so well that it would be easy to presume that I am fully well. I still pray--and I ask you to pray--that God will drive out every cancer cell in my body. But I don't want us to think He owes us anything, or that we can cut a deal with Him. He gets to choose! I’m thankful for every gift of a good day, and my prayer continues to be that I will fully live each day that I get.

Thanks for all your care and prayers.

Carol

Time

We're wrapping up our vacation today. By 5 a.m. Monday we'll be heading back to Charlotte. Then after we handle some timely things at our respective offices, we'll head to the oncologist's office for chemo Tuesday afternoon. We hope he'll be able to explain the confusing CA 125 scores.

A friend gave me a new book about growing intimacy with Jesus. I'm eager to get into it. So I began to feel sad about the way my mind and soul tend to shut down for about three days following chemo. It's like I crawl into a deep hole and pull the lid down--no interest in reading or even in listening to music. I got the idea of praying that God would help me overcome that dullness this time. I won't complain about being weary. But I'll be very grateful if He will give me some mental and spiritual energy for worshiping Him and reading. Maybe you could help me pray for that. Thanks.

The message at church this morning was about time--cutting back on busyness in order to have time for relationship with God. It was great, as was the singing.

No posting on Monday. I plan to be back in touch on Tuesday.

Love,
Carol

Winding Down

Our time in Indiana is winding down. There's been lots of good interaction with family and friends.

Thursday a friend sent an e-mail in which she mentioned the extreme applicability of Ephesians 4:3 to a situation we both know about. Amazingly, I had read the same verse that very morning. It's been on my mind ever since, and I spent some more time with it this morning. I'll share it, starting with verse 2: Be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other's faults because of your love. Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace.

I confess that sometimes I've "made allowance for the faults of others," because I assumed they were too weak or ignorant to do better. Isn't that arrogant? Here it says to make allowance because of love. Better principle, for sure.

God is continuing to answer prayer and I'm still feeling well. I can't explain why I'm so blessed, but I'm thankful.

We'll be heading home early Monday morning.