Showing posts with label the gift of cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the gift of cancer. Show all posts

Monday, September 11, 2017

Thankful For the Anniversary We Didn't Expect to Celebrate!



A year ago we didn't expect to celebrate our 47th Wedding Anniversary. Doctors gave us a grim cancer diagnosis.  "Rapid progression, unresponsive to treatment, low survivability" concluded a mountain of test results.

To our surprise, the peace and presence of God, which other cancer patients attest to, filled us with praise, thankfulness, and humor. We determined to laugh, celebrate each day, and treasure the time we had left together.

If my days were short, I wanted them filled with joy, not sadness.

 Oncologists urged us to go away and have fun. I do what my doctor orders.  Last September we headed for Hilton Head to celebrate our 46th wedding anniversary. For two glorious weeks we enjoyed our love, the blessings of being alive, the treasure of time together.

In December my doctors were as excited as we were to learn a new drug had been approved for my type of cancer.  Take 3 pills a day  (one in the Name of the Father, one in the Name of the Son, and one in the Name of the Holy Spirit) and your cancer progression may stop.

And stop it did! 

Today my blood counts are normal.
 I feel better and have more energy than I have in years. 
Other than my cute chemo curls, there are no side effects.

This week Dan and I celebrate an anniversary we didn't expect to see—our 47th! We're returning to the same Hilton Head condo with thanks to God for the sweet gifts of marriage and time.

Looking back,

 I realize this last year has been the best year of our married life. 

Why? 

Because when we face the death of a spouse, priorities and perspectives change.

We treasure every moment. 

Idiosyncrasies are funny, not irritating.

We dance and sing together. 

We hold hands.

We sit together on the couch. 

We touch—often. 

We do today all the things we talked about, but never made time to do. 

We kiss—over and over. 

We tell each other "I love you"—constantly. 

We stop arguing. 

We treat each other with kindness. 

We let each other have his/her way. 

We go to bed together. 

We look into each other's eyes when we  speak and when we are quiet. 

We smile. 

We laugh. 

We love deeply. 

Cancer was a gift to us. A wake-up call to the treasure of love, life, and time. Don't wait for a crisis in your marriage to begin living love deeply.

"Above all, love each other deeply . . . . " 1 Peter 4:8



Praying for marriages as we splash in the Atlantic Ocean! 


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Friday, February 17, 2017

Life Lessons Learned in a Cancer Center Waiting Room



I'm glad I have cancer. Here's why:

I've met the most amazing people in the world. Why amazing? Well, because they have cancer and cancer changes you from mundane to amazing.

Cancer patients  

Live life to the full. 

Treasure the moments. 

Love deeply. 

Don't worry about the small stuff. 

Don't complain about the lateness of their doctors appt because they know 
(1) the person ahead of them may have gotten awful news, or 
(2) cancer patients aren't eager to hear what could be their own awful news. 

Cancer patients smile and greet everyone. 

They play like little children with little children. 

Cancer patients make each moment a God moment. 

They work at blessing people wherever they go. 

They smile. 

They live in the reality that this day could be their last, so they live full, and well, and joyful. 

They give because they know there is no reason to keep. 

They purpose to bestow a kind word of encouragement to every human they see. 

They don't complain about head colds or hang nails. 

I have never heard a political discussion in a Cancer Center waiting room.
 Their eyes are on the King, not the president.

Cancer patients want to give back all the kindness people gave to them. 

They live each day full.

Splashes of Serenity in the midst of cancer! Thank You, God for this gift.
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