Star throwing

Thanks for your prayers for our "doctor day" yesterday. Chuck is wearing a pretty large bandage, and I know he's uncomfortable, but he and his surgeon are confident the cancer is all gone. It'll be sent to a lab to confirm that, of course.

My oncologist visit didn't result in any new information. They drew blood for an iron panel to see whether an infusion of iron might be called for, which would probably relieve some of my fatigue. I'm not in serious trouble here--only less energetic than I'd like to be. The X-Ray taken on Tuesday shows that some fluid is again collecting in my lung cavities. Again, not serious yet. The resulting shortness of breath and coughing were the starting signal for this whole cancer journey more than three years ago, though it wasn't diagnosed until December 2005. Next Wednesday I'll start another 2-week course of Hexalen pills. Please pray I can manage my digestive challenges effectively.

I still don't feel comfortable with any of the cancer centers that I've investigated, and I'm certainly not going to jump in any direction until God guides me clearly. It's not that I've uncovered anything wrong about any of them, only that I'm not experiencing the settled peace that would indicate this is for me.

At work I'm in the final stages of making corrections to the magazine text per responses from the people out in the field. Our wonderful photo editor has, again, done a fabulous job of gathering dynamic images to enhance the stories. I really do love my work.

Have you heard of the star thrower? Author and scientist Loren Eiseley came upon him early one morning on a beach in Costabel, hurling into the sea the huge numbers of starfish that had been stranded by the previous night's high tide. The rising sun would kill them, and Eiseley concluded, "Death walks hugely and in many forms." But this man, the star thrower, was doing his best to restore hope for all the stars he could. "It may live," he said, "if the off-shore pull is strong enough." Eisely concluded, "The star thrower is a man, and death is running more fleet than he along every sea beach in the world." Still, the star thrower kept at his task. His choice was to reduce despair rather than give way to cynicism. "Hope," wrote G K Chesterton, "is the power of being cheerful in circumstances which we know to be desperate." May God help us all to be star throwers, choosing hope over despair. (I found this illustration in The Leadership Secrets of Billy Graham, which I referred to a few days ago. Several years ago the people who introduced us to the concept of "paradigm shift" used the star thrower to illustrate one of their points--I don't remember what.)

Have a great day.
Love,
Carol