Running Late!

{image from Ms Ladyred's flickr site}

So, the experience of today has finally caught up with me. Certainly I have had my emotional breakdowns and my moments of frustration, but none have struck me like the experience I had yesterday...I was late for my chemo infusion. I know, in light of everything, this sounds ridiculous - But, this is me...

For those who know me well, I take great pride in my calendar; it is neat, organized, and reflective of a person who has some unnatural needs to be organized with my activities and schedules. I am also the person, who in college, would take notes in class and then return to my dorm to re-write all my notes over again in new notebooks - just so that they were perfectly neat. One of the "normal" experiences since my diagnosis has been my daily review of my very busy calendar.

My calendar today shows my doctor's appts, infusion dates, testing appts and all the various arrangements for the children: the girls in one direction and our son in another. I've had so many people offer to help with this part of the process, but it's the one thing that makes me feel like myself. And, up until now I've take great pride in the fact that everything has moved along rather smoothly, in an otherwise chaotic experience. That is until yesterday...

As we dropped the kids off at two different locations, and headed into my infusion, I ran through the day once more in my mind..."yes! everything is in place" Then, as I checked in at the oncology center promptly at 9:30am, the receptionist looked at me and said "we had you down for an 8:45am infusion". What! how could this be? She was so nice and said, "not to worry. I will just call upstairs and get them ready for you."

Again, I'm thinking "How could this be?" Knowing me well enough, Matt grabs my arm and says, "It's not a problem; don't worry about it" But, that's like telling a writer to not worry about a grammatical error or misspelled word in their work. I'm never late! I'm always on time! My highly, very neat, calendar always ensures that.

As the nurse readied me for my infusion: asking all the questions, inserting the line in my port, etc...I began to cry. In great kindness, the nurse reminded me that each time is stressful and that it's an anxious experience to come in for these infusions. I agreed with what she was saying, but I couldn't tell her that I was actually crying because I was late to the appointment. That would give her too much insight into my neurosis.

But, there I was face to face with that dreaded thought: my humanity. I have a lot going on, and even with all the planning and organizing, things don't always go according to plan.

Oh, what a lesson for life! We can do our best, feeling that all our bases are covered and than we find that we can't be completely in control, nor should we want to be. This little moment yesterday, gave me a lot to reflect on. So often we are looking for a great book, retreat, or spiritual talk to help lead us to a better understanding of ourselves. But, sometimes it is our daily reflections that show us the greatest opportunities in which to grow and become more closely connected with our spiritual energy.

Whenever I have moments like this, it reminds me that I need to still hand a little more over to God, Now, certainly God can't arrange childcare for my children (however, that has all gone along so smoothly, that I can't help but think that his hand is in that), but God can certainly help me better see the moments where I need to let go a little bit more.

Will this keep me from trying to keep my calendar organized and neat - probably not? But, I also want to make sure that I leave open places for God to interject his wisdom and guidance, which so often comes in the form of an unexpected phone call or visit from a friend. God is always presenting us with moments of grace, we just need to be open to them (and realize that they are rarely listed on our calendars).

Even in the midst of our really crazy, busy lives, we can find moments to put our pens and calendars down and look around. Out there...there are people, places and experiences that can grace our lives with inspiration!

What is on your "calendar"? In other words, what takes so much of your focus that you find it hard to slow down? Perhaps today, we can all decide to take a moment and change things up a bit for the purpose of slowing down and exploring the grace that abounds around us.

Until next time, we take a sacred pause...

Back in the Boat

{image from Ms Ladyred's flickr site}

I've written before about "getting in the boat." A group of women that I have the privilege of ministering to have often heard me talk about the trust that it takes to step on board. Oh, here we find ourselves back at that word, "trust."

The Celtic saints had a practice of setting out in coracles, small boats without oars, in complete trust. The idea is that God's will, in the form of water currents and wind, would lead them to the
"place of their resurrection." In other words, they would be led to the place God needed them to rise up and serve those who needed them most.

Can you imagine stepping in a boat without oars and settling wherever the wind and currents lead you? On top of that, can you see yourself then getting out of the boat on new shores ready to serve in God's name? Oh, back to the word "trust!" Did I already say this?

We are all faced with moment that bring us face to face with the opportunity to "get in the boat." Sometimes we feel rooted in a strength that allows us to step in without question. But, more often we've got one foot in and one foot out! This is a more familiar image for me. We want to get in and move forward in trust, but... WOW, that is so hard.

We want to see those shores that we will land on. We want to know how long we will be in this boat. We want to be assured that the sailing will be easy. These are our human demands, and we can't help but be governed by them. Or, can we?

Faith in the journey is fostered by first taking a step forward in trust. When we imagine ourselves getting in that boat and allowing God to lead us, it doesn't mean that we always feel completely confident and assured in our decision. But, rather, we step in and trust that wherever we are led, God will provide us with what we need to handle those shores. The more we practice, "getting in the boat" the more we will experience God's presence on our journey.

I've been led to some rocky shores lately. I would have preferred a nice, white sandy beach aside calm waters. But, there is something along the rocky shores that needs me. This is my statement of trust. This is the belief that helps me get in this boat and be led...not easy, I know. But, it is possible!

Are you being asked to climb aboard today? Can you trust that God will lead you to the shores that are meant for you? Can you put both feet in the boat?

Until next time, we take a sacred pause...

Letting Go!

{image from Ms Ladyred's flickr site}

Those of you who know me well, know that I love my schedule! When I was teaching, my favorite part of the year was getting all my supplies and filling in my calendar for the year. I loved planning my lessons and structuring my classes. I just love to be organized in my tasks. My family wishes I felt that way about my house, but we can't be good at everything now can we?

The closest I get to organizing now is filling in my datebook with my daily doctor's appointments and figuring out where the children will be from day to day. It's a little job in and of itself. But, it gives me a taste of that organization that I love so much.

So, here's the part where I need to just let go...Cancer is not the type of experience that makes you feel the least bit in control. Instead you feel at the mercy of others. There are so few moments to truly make choices, because most are made for you. The best I can do is choose what I will wear to chemo each day. A simple task, but I think my efforts are paying off because I receive nice compliments as I enter the infusion room each day!

What is God saying to me in the midst of all of this? I think he is saying "Let Go!" Let go of the expectations you have for the summer, for the start of school, for the way you think things should be going right now. I think God is, instead, saying let the moments unfold and let me create a new expectation for you: to just be in the midst of this struggle. So, the children's closets may not be organized before school starts; I may not be able to do all the things I like to do in preparation for a new school year. But, I am here!

I am fighting this disease, and moving forward with each challenge - this is a big lesson for me! When I could easily feel defeated, I remember that I have survived 3 months of chaos. And, that those 3 months of chaos have been lined with unbelievable grace and daily reminders of God's presence in my life!

Most importantly, I have survived the last 3 months without my calendar, without my schedules and without all my predetermined ideas about how things should be from day to day. I guess, I am learning that I need to hand myself over to God just a little bit more. I feel that each time I allow someone to do something for me, I am in many ways handing myself over to God, and saying: "I'm letting go!"

This is such a hard part of our human existence, but so necessary as we journey along our paths of faith. I have to begin each day with that prayer: "Let me be open to your will today!"

How do you feel about beginning your day with this prayer? Do you ever feel called by God to let go of some of your expectations and to just "be" in the moments of your day?

Until next time, we take a sacred pause...

The Pail or the Water?

{image from Ms Ladyred's flickr site}

When I was 3, we traveled to Florida to visit my grandparents...



I recall the trip to a Target-like store, to choose a new bright red sand pail; I loved that pail! We packed our belongings and headed to the beach. As my parents watched, I played joyfully in the shallow water, filling and emptying my pail again and again, and again!

As the story goes...all of a sudden my dad saw a large wave rise up behind me, and in a moment - I was gone! My dad rushed to the water's edge and dove into the surf. As the water settled, there I stood...crying! My dad's heart was beating fast at the danger of that large wave on my three-year-old body; I was sobbing because I had lost my brand new pail.

Oh, to worry more about the pail than the water! In so many ways, this is the perfect metaphor for my current experience. At times I wish I could worry more about the hair loss, the nausea, the exhaustion...but, it is the cancer itself that feels like that giant wave approaching me, ready to carry me out to sea.

But, then there is God...not above or below the "water", but within it! So, as I feel at times as though that giant wave is coming, I know deep in my soul that God is in fact in that wave too. So, there is nothing to fear.

I don't think you need to have a serious illness to grapple with those fearful waves that creep up on us. They are the large life forces that knock us off our feet...sometimes it is our children, our finances, our jobs, our relationships, even our spirituality...there are so many experiences that can lead us to feel consumed by fear. But, we need to continually remind ourselves that God is within everything.

I know that doesn't eliminate our feelings of fear, but that knowledge can often helps us remember that we can stand up within the wave and be alright! Whenever I have a feeling of fear that creeps up, I try to remember the past times that I have felt fearful and how I "survived" it. Drawing on that past experience can give me strength in this current moment.

What is your "wave" today? Remember, that God is with you!

Until next time, we take a sacred pause...

A New Path!

I wasn't expecting to begin writing again in the midst of my walk with cancer. But, I don't think we can ever truly know when God will see fit to inspire us to weave together our words. Apparently, this is my time to begin to do that...

I took a break from this blog because, as many of you know, on May 15th I was diagnosed with stage III breast cancer. My dear friend Shelly left a post below that gives a link to the caring bridge page that my husband is maintaining. I know that will continue to be the avenue through which people can stay up-to-date on my physical journey.

My hope is that this may be a place for people to stay up-to-date on my spiritual journey. This process may be more for me than anyone else, but I have always believed that when I feel inspired to write...it is... in many ways, God's way of teaching me something...and...when we hold inspiration, it should always be shared.

I know that this journey I am on is frightening, frustrating and unsettling. So, it might seem funny to say I feel abundantly blessed. But, I do! We have been surrounded by a kindness that transcends any previous understanding of the word.

I think in our "ordinary" days, we see glimpses of the sacred gifts in our lives.

But, we have truly been enveloped in sacred gifts from the moment we heard. I have been "held" in so many ways by sacred words and gestures. At times I truly feel carried along by the stream of prayers and support that seem to extend me beyond this moment in time. I've had my moments, not so much of anger (I'm not so prone to that emotion), but rather to worry and tears (I've mastered these!).

As I began chemotherapy, I knew that the two concerns would be the side effects of the drugs (the possibility of dehydration and fever.) I've had them both, and as I have sat in desert moments physically and emotionally these past few weeks, I still have felt the grace of God. But, the only reason I have felt that is because of the presence of people around me, and their willingness to walk with me in this time.

I think this is the greatest lesson of all experiences: When we open ourselves up to those around us and share our stories, the sacred flourishes!

The community that I live in is amazing. But, I believe that every community has the possibility of being as amazing as mine. The key is sharing in the journeys of those around you. When we sit idle, we run the risk of stalling the sacred.

Of course when someone has a serious illness there is a natural impulse to want to do something. But, in every experience of our lives, we can be called to do something, to share something, to want to be a "part of something", rather than separate from it. What is it in your life that is calling you to be a part of it?

Sometimes we think it has to be a grand gesture, but it doesn't...the simplest action can often breed the most profound emotions.

Be a part of your day today!

Until next time, we take a sacred pause...