Some of you may know that I have closely followed Kara Tippetts' fight with cancer. She was a 39 year old Christian author, wife and mother of four who battled breast cancer. Around December of last year she found that it had metastasized to many other parts of her body, including her brain. At that time, the doctors decided that the fight was over; there were no treatments left to try. A couple of months ago, she was moved home to spend her last days and put under hospice care. On Sunday, Kara went home to be with Jesus.
I first came across Kara on Facebook because several other friends were following her page. Then I learned about her book 'The Hardest Peace', which documented how she dealt with her disease and how she relied on her faith to get her through. As hard as it was some days to read, that book became almost my manual for how to cope with my own cancer fight. She was my inspiration for how to live in faith, not just to talk about it. When I wanted to give up, her words reminded me that I was not in this alone - God was simply waiting for me to lean on him.
Several weeks ago, I wrote to Kara to tell her how much she had helped me and to let her know I was praying for her. To my surprise, she wrote back and said she would also be praying for me. I couldn't believe, in her state, that she was still thinking of others. But from what I can tell, that is just the type of person she was. And so started our connection. We emailed back and forth a few more times and each time she sent me encouragement, love and words of faith.
As Kara's days were coming to an end, I found myself checking Facebook daily to see if she had a post. Each time that I didn't find one, I worried that she had passed. As much as I was worrying about her, I was also worried about myself. In the back of my mind, I really thought there would be a miracle and God would cure her. I just couldn't imagine Him taking someone so pure of heart, love, joy, wisdom and faith. And if He did, what would that mean for me? I kept thinking: if He doesn't save her, WHY on earth would He save me?
On Sunday I learned she had made the trip to Heaven and I was in shock. I just couldn't believe it. What happened to her miracle? She was MORE than deserving of it, so why didn't she get it? For the first couple hours of the day, I was scared out of my mind. Just a few days before we found out my radiation hadn't worked and I was already worried about my own future. And now Kara was gone.....I just kept replaying the same thing over and over in my head: if not save her, why me? What chance did I really have for my own miracle?
And then God gave me the answer. Because He hadn't saved her, I had hope. Bear with me here.....If God had cured Kara of her cancer because she was such an amazing Christian and so deserving and loving and caring, then I truly had no chance. I could never live up to her standards - not in a million years. However, for some reason, He allowed the cancer to bring her home to Him. I won't begin to guess why - it is His plan, not mine. But, in this situation, it became clear that it is NOT about being "good" enough to be saved. No matter how hard I try to do right, act right, be right or be the best Christian in town or the best friend, wife or mother, I will NEVER be perfect. I will never be "better" than Kara or any other person. We are all deserving of a miracle. I am deserving and so was she. But it's not about that. It's not up to me.
Only God can make the final decision, and that decision DOES NOT hinge on how I act. And that one sentence gave me a large amount of peace. It helped lift the cloud that had been hanging over my head since I learned the scans weren't clear. Do I know what my outcome is going to be? No. Do I know if God is going to grant me another miracle? Nope, sure don't. But I DO KNOW that I can stop trying to be "good enough" to be healed. I can stop carrying around the weight of trying to impress Him. He loves me just the way I am. And even if he doesn't get rid of the disease that has set up camp in my lung, it doesn't mean He loves me any less. He has a plan and I have to respect that. And sit back, take a deep breath and see where it leads.
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Keeping control of my emotions and feeling good about it.
I have a dear friend who asked me one day why I tend to write about the things I need to fix instead of the great things about myself. She felt so strongly about it that she wrote a list of the "great things about Vicki" and sent it to me (I blogged about that a few weeks ago). I explained to her that it's much easier for me to make a list of all my faults. Also, isn't it kinda vain to blog about how wonderful I am? I'm not sure who would read that. ;-)
Well, this morning driving into work that friend's voice was in my ear, pointing out something that I'd done right. So, today is going to be a little different. No, I won't be losing all modesty and detailing all the ways that Vicki is awesome, but I am going to take a moment to pat myself on the back. More as a reminder to myself on how to handle similar situations in the future. And maybe, just maybe, there's someone out there who this might help.
Most of you already know that I am an emotional person. A VERY emotional person. This is something I have always known about myself. It isn't something I woke up one day and said, girl, you are REALLY emotional. I've known it most of my life and had it pointed out repeatedly by others. But I used to think: "that's just who I am and I'm always going to be that way." Well, that is true, but up to a point. When I started trying to work on myself and become a better 'me', I decided I needed to change how I looked at that emotional side. Yes, I AM an emotional person and that won't ever change. But I CAN change how I HANDLE those emotions and how I react.
See, I have always been the person that reacts in the moment. I don't have the greatest of filters. If I get upset, that shows on my face immediately. There's no hiding it from anyone. I cry easily and often. I often think back to a Friends episode where Rachel is talking about how much she cries. She said: "I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm mad or upset. I cry when I'm frustrated. I cry when I lose at something and even when I win. I just cry ALL the time." Yes, it was meant for comedy, but that is pretty much true about me. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and the way I show those emotions is often through tears.
Now, I don't really see tears as a bad thing. The truly negative part of how I used to handle my emotions was what I would say in the heat of the moment. I would say whatever came to mind and then want to take it back later. But often that is hard to do. People may forgive what you said, but it's hard for them to forget and most times the relationship is never the same again. Those outbursts have ruined a few good friendships over my 41 years. And even though I would say I was sorry a bazillion times over, who wants to be friends with someone who reacts like that? Some have decided it just wasn't worth the hassle.
So, this is something I've REALLY tried to work on. Like, really, really, REALLY work on. I think it helped a lot when I realized WHERE these emotional outbursts were coming from. The times I would get angry and lash out, it was coming from a place of hurt. When I felt like someone had 'wronged me' or treated me unfairly, I would try to hurt them back. This was subconscious for most of my life, but once I realized what I was doing, I was finally in a place to work on it and change it.
Last week I wrote about an email I received from a friend and how this really hurt me. When I received it, my emotions overtook me. I started crying pretty quickly and just couldn't stop. At the time I just didn't understand WHY it was sent. I couldn't grasp the other person's side of things. I couldn't make sense of the reasoning behind it. When I was removed from the situation for a day, I realized it was more about something I already worried about than what the person wrote. But in that moment, I was pretty devastated.
Luckily I knew (and another person pointed out to me) that this friend has a good heart and would NEVER intentionally hurt me. I also knew that this was a friendship that I didn't want to let go of. So, even though I was extremely emotional and confused, I didn't lash out in anger. I didn't get defensive. Yes, I wrote back and explained how I was feeling and defended myself a bit. But there is a huge difference in defending yourself and being defensive - one that I have only just recently learned. When you defend yourself, you have taken a moment to really think about what the other person is saying. When you get defensive, it's a reaction. It comes from a place of emotion not of thought. It comes from the heart, not the brain.
Yesterday I received a follow up email from that friend and because I hadn't lashed out and made a jerk of myself, we were able to discuss the situation. I was able to see the other side and further explain mine. We were both able to get our thoughts and feelings out. And we were able to move past it...the most important part.
In the past I would have felt JUSTIFIED to have reacted in anger. I would have said that this person had NO RIGHT to say such and such and I had every right to be upset. If we had stopped being friends over it, I would have stated that it was because the other person was wrong. But in the back of my mind I would have always wondered if it was more my fault. And then I would have felt guilty. And ashamed. And embarassed.
But because I took a moment, just a moment, to think and not react, the friendship is still intact and probably closer than before. And today that feels pretty darn good. So, to my friend who asked me to write about something I've done right, this one's for you.
God bless and hope you all have a fantastic day!
Well, this morning driving into work that friend's voice was in my ear, pointing out something that I'd done right. So, today is going to be a little different. No, I won't be losing all modesty and detailing all the ways that Vicki is awesome, but I am going to take a moment to pat myself on the back. More as a reminder to myself on how to handle similar situations in the future. And maybe, just maybe, there's someone out there who this might help.
Most of you already know that I am an emotional person. A VERY emotional person. This is something I have always known about myself. It isn't something I woke up one day and said, girl, you are REALLY emotional. I've known it most of my life and had it pointed out repeatedly by others. But I used to think: "that's just who I am and I'm always going to be that way." Well, that is true, but up to a point. When I started trying to work on myself and become a better 'me', I decided I needed to change how I looked at that emotional side. Yes, I AM an emotional person and that won't ever change. But I CAN change how I HANDLE those emotions and how I react.
See, I have always been the person that reacts in the moment. I don't have the greatest of filters. If I get upset, that shows on my face immediately. There's no hiding it from anyone. I cry easily and often. I often think back to a Friends episode where Rachel is talking about how much she cries. She said: "I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. I cry when I'm mad or upset. I cry when I'm frustrated. I cry when I lose at something and even when I win. I just cry ALL the time." Yes, it was meant for comedy, but that is pretty much true about me. I wear my emotions on my sleeve and the way I show those emotions is often through tears.
Now, I don't really see tears as a bad thing. The truly negative part of how I used to handle my emotions was what I would say in the heat of the moment. I would say whatever came to mind and then want to take it back later. But often that is hard to do. People may forgive what you said, but it's hard for them to forget and most times the relationship is never the same again. Those outbursts have ruined a few good friendships over my 41 years. And even though I would say I was sorry a bazillion times over, who wants to be friends with someone who reacts like that? Some have decided it just wasn't worth the hassle.
So, this is something I've REALLY tried to work on. Like, really, really, REALLY work on. I think it helped a lot when I realized WHERE these emotional outbursts were coming from. The times I would get angry and lash out, it was coming from a place of hurt. When I felt like someone had 'wronged me' or treated me unfairly, I would try to hurt them back. This was subconscious for most of my life, but once I realized what I was doing, I was finally in a place to work on it and change it.
Last week I wrote about an email I received from a friend and how this really hurt me. When I received it, my emotions overtook me. I started crying pretty quickly and just couldn't stop. At the time I just didn't understand WHY it was sent. I couldn't grasp the other person's side of things. I couldn't make sense of the reasoning behind it. When I was removed from the situation for a day, I realized it was more about something I already worried about than what the person wrote. But in that moment, I was pretty devastated.
Luckily I knew (and another person pointed out to me) that this friend has a good heart and would NEVER intentionally hurt me. I also knew that this was a friendship that I didn't want to let go of. So, even though I was extremely emotional and confused, I didn't lash out in anger. I didn't get defensive. Yes, I wrote back and explained how I was feeling and defended myself a bit. But there is a huge difference in defending yourself and being defensive - one that I have only just recently learned. When you defend yourself, you have taken a moment to really think about what the other person is saying. When you get defensive, it's a reaction. It comes from a place of emotion not of thought. It comes from the heart, not the brain.
Yesterday I received a follow up email from that friend and because I hadn't lashed out and made a jerk of myself, we were able to discuss the situation. I was able to see the other side and further explain mine. We were both able to get our thoughts and feelings out. And we were able to move past it...the most important part.
In the past I would have felt JUSTIFIED to have reacted in anger. I would have said that this person had NO RIGHT to say such and such and I had every right to be upset. If we had stopped being friends over it, I would have stated that it was because the other person was wrong. But in the back of my mind I would have always wondered if it was more my fault. And then I would have felt guilty. And ashamed. And embarassed.
But because I took a moment, just a moment, to think and not react, the friendship is still intact and probably closer than before. And today that feels pretty darn good. So, to my friend who asked me to write about something I've done right, this one's for you.
God bless and hope you all have a fantastic day!
Monday, March 16, 2015
I refuse to live by the statistics....
About a year and a half ago, my oncologist called to tell me that I had about six months to live. The latest chemotherapy we had tried did not work and she felt we were out of ideas. We had already tried SO much and she felt like it was time to face reality. At the time, I had several friends tell me how cruel it was that she put it so bluntly. That no doctor should call on the phone and say it as harshly as she did. But I disagreed with them. I knew why she had stated it so matter of factly. Because up until that moment, I refused to believe my cancer diagnosis was a death sentence.
I refused to listen to statistics. I didn't want to hear that a treatment had a certain percentage rate of success. I didn't want to hear how much time I had if such and such medication worked (or didn't work, which was often the case). I kept insisting that God was in control of all this and it didn't matter what the numbers said. I knew this from experience from our infertility journey and I just COULDN'T let the numbers dictate my path.
There was a point in our battle to have our son that the nurse called me with bad news about some blood work. I can remember it clear as day; it's etched into my memory (previously for bad reasons, but now as a reminder of how NOT to react). She was letting me know that my egg quality was very bad and at that point the fertility clinic didn't think there was any chance we'd have our own child. In fact, she alluded to the fact that they were doing me a favor by keeping me on as a patient. My odds were that bad. I lost it, completely fell apart. Sank to the ground and just balled my eyes out. My husband came home from work and that's where he found me - just curled up on the floor with the phone still in my hand. That news from the nurse just about destroyed me. I took it as FACT, not just their opinion based on one number. And I found myself giving up. If they said it wasn't going to happen, well, I guess it wasn't.
As gut wrenching of a memory that is for me, I hold on to it now because I CAN NOT let myself react the same way to my cancer. I'm terrible about looking at the glass half empty instead of half full. If I hear something has only a 50% chance of working, I will hear "that means it has a 50% chance of failing". And when I start worrying, that worry takes away my focus and it takes away some of my 'fight'. And for those that have dealt with a serious disease or illness, you know that your mental state is almost more important than the treatments/medications you take.
But my refusal to hear the statistics of where I was in my cancer battle is what led my doctor to call that day. She felt I needed to know that I only had six months left. She felt it was critical for me to start planning for the inevitable. In her eyes, I needed to get my will done, get my husband all the information on my life insurance, basically get my affairs in order. She felt like I had lived with blinders on for too long and it was time to face the cold, hard truth. Even though I kept telling her that it was God's plan, not hers, she saw that as being in denial. She took my faith as burying my head in the sand. So, she got blunt with me...really blunt.
Instead of believing her and giving up, I contacted my pastor and asked for a prayer/healing service. I posted the news on Facebook and asked everyone to pray. I know I came across as quite hysterical, but I knew it was time to bring in the big guns. Not because the doctor was right but because I knew God and His people could heal me. I'd seen it happen with us being given Alex. And if He could give us a baby, He could certainly clear my body from this disease.
A few months after that prayer/healing service, I found out that I was in remission. Praise God! Unfortunately, as you know, the cancer has returned in a different location. So, does that mean I give up? No. Does that mean I believe God has given up on me? No. Does that mean I need to start worrying about how much time I have left? No. As my pastor loves to quote: "one out of one people die". It's a fact. We all are technically dying from the moment we are born. It's not something we can stop; it's inevitable.
I know some friends and family members believe that I should be preparing Alex just in case the worst does happen. And I absolutely respect your opinion. But it's just not the way I choose to handle this. He does not know his mother has cancer. And until it's ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that the end is upon us, he will not know. I want his childhood as untarnished by this disease as humanly possible. I want him to be thinking about baseball and church and choir and friends and camping and Spring Break and whether or not his hair looks good today. I do not want him worrying about his Mommy. It's my job to worry about him, not the other way around.
So, at this point, do I know what the future holds? Nope. Do I have any idea what my life expectancy is at this point? I have the same knowledge of this as the rest of you reading this blog. I could get killed in a car accident, I could have an allergic reaction to something, I could get hit by a foul ball at the baseball fields, I could fall down a flight of stairs (yes, I'm really clumsy), I could have a heart attack or maybe, just maybe I could pass away from cancer at some unknown time way in the future. I just don't know. And call it denial or call it faith, but I'm completely okay with that. The future holds what it will hold....
Thank you everyone for all your prayers. God bless you and have a fantastic day!
I refused to listen to statistics. I didn't want to hear that a treatment had a certain percentage rate of success. I didn't want to hear how much time I had if such and such medication worked (or didn't work, which was often the case). I kept insisting that God was in control of all this and it didn't matter what the numbers said. I knew this from experience from our infertility journey and I just COULDN'T let the numbers dictate my path.
There was a point in our battle to have our son that the nurse called me with bad news about some blood work. I can remember it clear as day; it's etched into my memory (previously for bad reasons, but now as a reminder of how NOT to react). She was letting me know that my egg quality was very bad and at that point the fertility clinic didn't think there was any chance we'd have our own child. In fact, she alluded to the fact that they were doing me a favor by keeping me on as a patient. My odds were that bad. I lost it, completely fell apart. Sank to the ground and just balled my eyes out. My husband came home from work and that's where he found me - just curled up on the floor with the phone still in my hand. That news from the nurse just about destroyed me. I took it as FACT, not just their opinion based on one number. And I found myself giving up. If they said it wasn't going to happen, well, I guess it wasn't.
As gut wrenching of a memory that is for me, I hold on to it now because I CAN NOT let myself react the same way to my cancer. I'm terrible about looking at the glass half empty instead of half full. If I hear something has only a 50% chance of working, I will hear "that means it has a 50% chance of failing". And when I start worrying, that worry takes away my focus and it takes away some of my 'fight'. And for those that have dealt with a serious disease or illness, you know that your mental state is almost more important than the treatments/medications you take.
But my refusal to hear the statistics of where I was in my cancer battle is what led my doctor to call that day. She felt I needed to know that I only had six months left. She felt it was critical for me to start planning for the inevitable. In her eyes, I needed to get my will done, get my husband all the information on my life insurance, basically get my affairs in order. She felt like I had lived with blinders on for too long and it was time to face the cold, hard truth. Even though I kept telling her that it was God's plan, not hers, she saw that as being in denial. She took my faith as burying my head in the sand. So, she got blunt with me...really blunt.
Instead of believing her and giving up, I contacted my pastor and asked for a prayer/healing service. I posted the news on Facebook and asked everyone to pray. I know I came across as quite hysterical, but I knew it was time to bring in the big guns. Not because the doctor was right but because I knew God and His people could heal me. I'd seen it happen with us being given Alex. And if He could give us a baby, He could certainly clear my body from this disease.
A few months after that prayer/healing service, I found out that I was in remission. Praise God! Unfortunately, as you know, the cancer has returned in a different location. So, does that mean I give up? No. Does that mean I believe God has given up on me? No. Does that mean I need to start worrying about how much time I have left? No. As my pastor loves to quote: "one out of one people die". It's a fact. We all are technically dying from the moment we are born. It's not something we can stop; it's inevitable.
I know some friends and family members believe that I should be preparing Alex just in case the worst does happen. And I absolutely respect your opinion. But it's just not the way I choose to handle this. He does not know his mother has cancer. And until it's ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that the end is upon us, he will not know. I want his childhood as untarnished by this disease as humanly possible. I want him to be thinking about baseball and church and choir and friends and camping and Spring Break and whether or not his hair looks good today. I do not want him worrying about his Mommy. It's my job to worry about him, not the other way around.
So, at this point, do I know what the future holds? Nope. Do I have any idea what my life expectancy is at this point? I have the same knowledge of this as the rest of you reading this blog. I could get killed in a car accident, I could have an allergic reaction to something, I could get hit by a foul ball at the baseball fields, I could fall down a flight of stairs (yes, I'm really clumsy), I could have a heart attack or maybe, just maybe I could pass away from cancer at some unknown time way in the future. I just don't know. And call it denial or call it faith, but I'm completely okay with that. The future holds what it will hold....
Thank you everyone for all your prayers. God bless you and have a fantastic day!
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Guilt, cancer and more guilt
Please forgive me today if this blog is a bit all over the place but I have a lot of emotions from yesterday that I would like to explain. Please bear with me.
Guilt....this is something that has been a part of most of my life. For many years, I could feel guilty over ANYTHING. I say "I'm sorry" so much that it drives my husband bonkers. It could be raining and I think it's my fault. This is something that I am very aware of and have tried very hard to work past. Guilt just wears you down and saps the energy right out of you. It doesn't do anyone ANY good. So, why feel it? I know where mine comes from...a place of insecurity and not feeling "good enough".
As many of you know, when I was 23 I was disowned from my family. I was told I was dead to them and would go to hell because I had the devil living inside of me. My father actually used scripture verses as his reasons for why I couldn't be his daughter anymore. Of course that was a very difficult time and it affected me greatly. Not nearly as much today, but it took a long time to get past. Even though I knew they were in the wrong, you can't help but wonder why you weren't good enough for your own parents. How could they not love you enough? Was I really that bad of a person? Those are questions that will keep you up at night.
Fast forward to Matt and I getting married and trying to have a baby. For about three years we suffered from infertility issues and the doctor we were seeing told us that we most likely wouldn't have a child. Feeling total dispair, we went to see our pastor and asked for his advice. Should we keep trying or should we adopt. Much to my surprise, he didn't have advice either way. He told us that the Holy Spirit was speaking to him very clearly. And he was saying that I still had unresolved issues with my parents that I needed to get past first. That I needed to be able to forgive them before I could move on to be a mother. I was pretty irritated sitting in that office. I had gone there for clarity about our current situation, not to relive the past again. But our pastor was not budging. He insisted that I had work to do.
So, because I had nothing to lose (not because I fully believed him AT THAT POINT), I went to our local Christian book store, bought a book and workbook on forgiveness and stayed up for 48 hours straight working on it. By the end of those long two days I actually was at a place where I could tell my parents I forgave them. Finally. Without reservation. I didn't think I'd ever get to tell them since we weren't in contact, but God had other plans. One day, yes ONE DAY, after I finished that workbook, I received an e-mail from my father. We had hardly spoken in years. I wasn't even sure how he had my e-mail address. At that moment, I knew the pastor was right. The Holy Spirit had been in that office that day. What a gift from above. I can still remember how I felt when I saw that e-mail come across my computer screen.
I'd love to say that there was a happy resolution, but that wasn't the case. I expressed my forgiveness to my father and he refused it. He told me he hadn't done anything to be forgiven for; that I was in the wrong. I started to get upset but I realized that wasn't the point. It didn't matter if my father accepted the forgiveness. The point was that I had given it. And given it freely and honestly.
In addition to the wonderful feeling of releasing that anger, I also remember the guilt I felt. If it was my anger towards my parents that was keeping us from having a baby, that was my fault. I was the one keeping my husband from being a father. I was the one that put him through all those doctor visits and miscarriages. I was the one keeping his dream from coming true. We did end up of course having a happy ending - soon after the e-mail converstion with my father, I went to a prayer and healing service. And three weeks after that we found out we were pregnant with Alex. Praise God.
But still I felt guilty. Yes, we had this wonderful gift, but it didn't change how I felt. I thought for many years that if I had gotten my stuff together earlier, I would have saved us the three years of trying. And maybe if we'd had him earlier, we could have gone on to have a second child. Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Living with cancer also means that I live with the same guilt. It's me that is sick and it's me that needs treatments and it's me that is bringing pain and heartache into the house. I often ask what God wants me to learn from this disease. Why hasn't he healed me yet? Is there something, like with the infertility situation, that I am supposed to deal so I can become cancer free? I've read everything I can get my hands on, I pray, I talk to pastors, I try as hard as I can to "work on myself" just in case this is truly my fault.
No one I talk to suggests that it is my fault. It's actually the opposite. People tell me I'm way too hard on myself, that I didn't choose to have cancer, that I can't "fix" myself into not having a disease, that it's God's plan, that's it's out of my hands, etc, etc.
Until yesterday....yesterday someone suggested that I am actually choosing to have cancer. That my thoughts, feelings, and emotions are what are making me sick. I learned that when I was at the Cancer Treatment Center getting ready for my radiation. And I just started bawling- gut-wrenching, body shaking sobs. Crying where you can't catch your breath. Because this person had touched that tiny place I try to ignore where I still think it's my fault. Because what if that person was right? Had I done this? Had I put my family and friends through three years of hell because I'm that screwed up? The tears weren't so much that the person had said this (although it still confuses me) but the "what if"? What if the person was right? What if I was actually this terrible, terrrible person that God had allowed to have cancer as some sort of punishment?
I reached out to two friends and they tried their hardest to convince me that person was wrong. That many, many, MANY Godly people have had or still have cancer. That I hadn't done this to myself or my family. That I didn't choose this. That I had been doing everything in my power to get past it. And that they admired how much faith I had in God that he would heal me. And as much as I believed these two dear friends, I still cried off and on throughout the day and woke up crying this morning. I'm embarassed to put all that in writing because I hate for people to know I'm such a cry baby (but I don't think it's that much of a secret).
This morning when I woke up still upset about what the person had said, I realized I needed to stop focusing on what was in that e-mail. I needed to focus on my reaction to it. Yes, the tears were probably a combination of a lot of things. Yesterday was the last treatment in this round and there is fear about it not working. The tears were also a culmination of all the stress of these past years, fighting a war that never stops. But I have to be honest that those tears were also about my guilt. Guilt that I still haven't gotten rid of. Even though my friend was wrong - I didn't choose cancer and I can't make it go away on my own - the person hit a nerve where I am still questioning myself. And that's what I have to get rid of. That little (well, probably not that little) nagging fear that I'm somehow to blame, that I'm not a good enough Christian for God to heal and if I were just "good enough" my cancer would be healed. Maybe I need to go find a book and workbook on guilt and stay up for 48 hours straight. ;-)
So, what to do now? Well, for starters, I need to find something to conceal these puffy eyes. Thank goodness I'm working from home. But more imporantly I need to find a way to get rid of this guilt once and for all. And tell myself I am already "good enough", that God loves me exactly as I am, that my cancer isn't a punishment, that I didn't cause this (let alone choose it) and find a way to TRULY believe those things. That will be the hard part. But today I'm up for the task.
Thanks for listening. And thanks to my two sweet friends who helped me get through a rough day yesterday. I love you both to the moon and back again. :-)
Guilt....this is something that has been a part of most of my life. For many years, I could feel guilty over ANYTHING. I say "I'm sorry" so much that it drives my husband bonkers. It could be raining and I think it's my fault. This is something that I am very aware of and have tried very hard to work past. Guilt just wears you down and saps the energy right out of you. It doesn't do anyone ANY good. So, why feel it? I know where mine comes from...a place of insecurity and not feeling "good enough".
As many of you know, when I was 23 I was disowned from my family. I was told I was dead to them and would go to hell because I had the devil living inside of me. My father actually used scripture verses as his reasons for why I couldn't be his daughter anymore. Of course that was a very difficult time and it affected me greatly. Not nearly as much today, but it took a long time to get past. Even though I knew they were in the wrong, you can't help but wonder why you weren't good enough for your own parents. How could they not love you enough? Was I really that bad of a person? Those are questions that will keep you up at night.
Fast forward to Matt and I getting married and trying to have a baby. For about three years we suffered from infertility issues and the doctor we were seeing told us that we most likely wouldn't have a child. Feeling total dispair, we went to see our pastor and asked for his advice. Should we keep trying or should we adopt. Much to my surprise, he didn't have advice either way. He told us that the Holy Spirit was speaking to him very clearly. And he was saying that I still had unresolved issues with my parents that I needed to get past first. That I needed to be able to forgive them before I could move on to be a mother. I was pretty irritated sitting in that office. I had gone there for clarity about our current situation, not to relive the past again. But our pastor was not budging. He insisted that I had work to do.
So, because I had nothing to lose (not because I fully believed him AT THAT POINT), I went to our local Christian book store, bought a book and workbook on forgiveness and stayed up for 48 hours straight working on it. By the end of those long two days I actually was at a place where I could tell my parents I forgave them. Finally. Without reservation. I didn't think I'd ever get to tell them since we weren't in contact, but God had other plans. One day, yes ONE DAY, after I finished that workbook, I received an e-mail from my father. We had hardly spoken in years. I wasn't even sure how he had my e-mail address. At that moment, I knew the pastor was right. The Holy Spirit had been in that office that day. What a gift from above. I can still remember how I felt when I saw that e-mail come across my computer screen.
I'd love to say that there was a happy resolution, but that wasn't the case. I expressed my forgiveness to my father and he refused it. He told me he hadn't done anything to be forgiven for; that I was in the wrong. I started to get upset but I realized that wasn't the point. It didn't matter if my father accepted the forgiveness. The point was that I had given it. And given it freely and honestly.
In addition to the wonderful feeling of releasing that anger, I also remember the guilt I felt. If it was my anger towards my parents that was keeping us from having a baby, that was my fault. I was the one keeping my husband from being a father. I was the one that put him through all those doctor visits and miscarriages. I was the one keeping his dream from coming true. We did end up of course having a happy ending - soon after the e-mail converstion with my father, I went to a prayer and healing service. And three weeks after that we found out we were pregnant with Alex. Praise God.
But still I felt guilty. Yes, we had this wonderful gift, but it didn't change how I felt. I thought for many years that if I had gotten my stuff together earlier, I would have saved us the three years of trying. And maybe if we'd had him earlier, we could have gone on to have a second child. Guilt, guilt, guilt.
Living with cancer also means that I live with the same guilt. It's me that is sick and it's me that needs treatments and it's me that is bringing pain and heartache into the house. I often ask what God wants me to learn from this disease. Why hasn't he healed me yet? Is there something, like with the infertility situation, that I am supposed to deal so I can become cancer free? I've read everything I can get my hands on, I pray, I talk to pastors, I try as hard as I can to "work on myself" just in case this is truly my fault.
No one I talk to suggests that it is my fault. It's actually the opposite. People tell me I'm way too hard on myself, that I didn't choose to have cancer, that I can't "fix" myself into not having a disease, that it's God's plan, that's it's out of my hands, etc, etc.
Until yesterday....yesterday someone suggested that I am actually choosing to have cancer. That my thoughts, feelings, and emotions are what are making me sick. I learned that when I was at the Cancer Treatment Center getting ready for my radiation. And I just started bawling- gut-wrenching, body shaking sobs. Crying where you can't catch your breath. Because this person had touched that tiny place I try to ignore where I still think it's my fault. Because what if that person was right? Had I done this? Had I put my family and friends through three years of hell because I'm that screwed up? The tears weren't so much that the person had said this (although it still confuses me) but the "what if"? What if the person was right? What if I was actually this terrible, terrrible person that God had allowed to have cancer as some sort of punishment?
I reached out to two friends and they tried their hardest to convince me that person was wrong. That many, many, MANY Godly people have had or still have cancer. That I hadn't done this to myself or my family. That I didn't choose this. That I had been doing everything in my power to get past it. And that they admired how much faith I had in God that he would heal me. And as much as I believed these two dear friends, I still cried off and on throughout the day and woke up crying this morning. I'm embarassed to put all that in writing because I hate for people to know I'm such a cry baby (but I don't think it's that much of a secret).
This morning when I woke up still upset about what the person had said, I realized I needed to stop focusing on what was in that e-mail. I needed to focus on my reaction to it. Yes, the tears were probably a combination of a lot of things. Yesterday was the last treatment in this round and there is fear about it not working. The tears were also a culmination of all the stress of these past years, fighting a war that never stops. But I have to be honest that those tears were also about my guilt. Guilt that I still haven't gotten rid of. Even though my friend was wrong - I didn't choose cancer and I can't make it go away on my own - the person hit a nerve where I am still questioning myself. And that's what I have to get rid of. That little (well, probably not that little) nagging fear that I'm somehow to blame, that I'm not a good enough Christian for God to heal and if I were just "good enough" my cancer would be healed. Maybe I need to go find a book and workbook on guilt and stay up for 48 hours straight. ;-)
So, what to do now? Well, for starters, I need to find something to conceal these puffy eyes. Thank goodness I'm working from home. But more imporantly I need to find a way to get rid of this guilt once and for all. And tell myself I am already "good enough", that God loves me exactly as I am, that my cancer isn't a punishment, that I didn't cause this (let alone choose it) and find a way to TRULY believe those things. That will be the hard part. But today I'm up for the task.
Thanks for listening. And thanks to my two sweet friends who helped me get through a rough day yesterday. I love you both to the moon and back again. :-)
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Making decisions as a parent when you and your spouse disagree
Last fall our son, Alex, started playing baseball. We signed him up in our local league for his age bracket. However, he had never played before and by the first practice I learned we were in way over our heads. Not only is he much smaller than boys his age (he's six and I often get asked if he's four or give) but the other parents were WAAAAAAY more competitive than my husband and I are. We went to the league to see about pulling him out and they recommended dropping him down one level. That turned out to be the best decision! Not only did we find a great coach and some other kids he knew but I also made some great friends.
When it came time to sign up for Spring season (which is far more competitive than fall), I wanted to keep him with the same coach. However, I was told by the league that he'd have to move up to his actual age group since the rosters for Spring have to be "approved". I went back and forth and they agreed to let him play down one level this last time. Then came evaluations. I guess Alex played well enough that they kind of pushed me into letting him go up to 6U. My gut was telling me no, but my husband's and my gut were not on the same page.
See, up until a few months ago, my husband worked 80+ hours a week so most of the childcare fell on my shoulders. That included most of the decision making and it was something I'd gotten used to. But when my husband sold his business and was home a lot more, I knew that I needed to step back some and let him have equal say. I knew that it was important for Alex and also important for our marriage. I'll admit it was a bit tough to let go of the reigns, but I have definitely made a conscious effort. We don't always agree but we have found a happy medium (at least I think). When I feel very strongly about something, he tends to give in and vice versa.
Until this baseball situation. I thought we were on the same page until it came time for registration. I thought it was best for Alex to hold him back - he was getting good at the game and it seemed beneficial for his attention, self esteem and focus. I was worried if he moved up too soon that he'd get overwhelmed and discouraged. My husband (I'm paraphrasing on his behalf) felt like I was coddling Alex and we'd have to let him play with his own age group eventually so why not start now. I really, really, really, REALLY disagreed but I could see that he also felt just as determined. So I prayed and prayed and felt like God was telling me to let go of this one. Matt is the head of our household and as his wife it is up to me to support him. So, support him I did. And Alex moved up to 6U.
I've tried to be positive about it in front of Alex, but I STILL feel like it was the wrong decision. I miss the other coach and how he seemed to really care about Alex. Alex doesn't seem to be playing as well and honestly seems way out of his league. Last night at practice, I will admit that I had a bad attitude. It was raining, it was late in the evening and I didn't want to be there. It was all I could do NOT to let Alex see that. Luckily he didn't pick up on it and played like a trooper. Well, he played hard and didn't give up, but he didn't play well. They had to bring the tee out for him to hit off of - something he didn't need in the fall. I could see the discouragement on his face but he made me proud by never giving up.
We came home wet from the rain and I'm ashamed to admit that I brought my negative attitude back home with me. Sitting there at the field, I was sure I was right. We'd made the wrong decision and it was going to be a terrible season. No one was going to convince me otherwise. When I woke up this morning, with the same thoughts, I knew I had to do something. So, instead of continuing to stew in my "I am right and everyone else is wrong" attitude, I decided to e-mail the coach. Not to tell him we'd made a mistake, but to ask his honest opinion. He has a son on the team and I decided to ask him to be honest with me. If Alex were his son, would he want to have him play down a level or keep him where he's at.
Unfortunately I ended up even more confused. The coach said Alex has a great attitude (yeah for that) and he doesn't seem discouraged in his eyes. But on one hand he thought it would be better for Alex to be with kids his own size. But on the other hand, it was good for Alex to be with kids his own age. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't get him to recommend one way over the other.
Is any of this the end of the world? No, of course not. But with Alex's hyperness and tendency to be silly and goofy, I was excited that we had found a sport that seemed to fit him well. Now that the new season has started, I feel like we have lost that and it's just going to be another sport he won't stick with. As an only child, I think it's VERY important that he play team sports. I believe he can learn a lot from playing with the other children and not having everything his own way.
So, what to do, what to do? Today I'm asking for your opinions. Am I making too much out of this? Should I just let it go and get through the season? Should I try again to convince my hubby that I'm right or does that go against my role as a Christian wife? One thing's for sure, I definitely need to do some more praying. Hopefully today God will give me some good direction so I can't stop dwelling on this.
Thanks everyone for listening and for your advice. Love to all!
When it came time to sign up for Spring season (which is far more competitive than fall), I wanted to keep him with the same coach. However, I was told by the league that he'd have to move up to his actual age group since the rosters for Spring have to be "approved". I went back and forth and they agreed to let him play down one level this last time. Then came evaluations. I guess Alex played well enough that they kind of pushed me into letting him go up to 6U. My gut was telling me no, but my husband's and my gut were not on the same page.
See, up until a few months ago, my husband worked 80+ hours a week so most of the childcare fell on my shoulders. That included most of the decision making and it was something I'd gotten used to. But when my husband sold his business and was home a lot more, I knew that I needed to step back some and let him have equal say. I knew that it was important for Alex and also important for our marriage. I'll admit it was a bit tough to let go of the reigns, but I have definitely made a conscious effort. We don't always agree but we have found a happy medium (at least I think). When I feel very strongly about something, he tends to give in and vice versa.
Until this baseball situation. I thought we were on the same page until it came time for registration. I thought it was best for Alex to hold him back - he was getting good at the game and it seemed beneficial for his attention, self esteem and focus. I was worried if he moved up too soon that he'd get overwhelmed and discouraged. My husband (I'm paraphrasing on his behalf) felt like I was coddling Alex and we'd have to let him play with his own age group eventually so why not start now. I really, really, really, REALLY disagreed but I could see that he also felt just as determined. So I prayed and prayed and felt like God was telling me to let go of this one. Matt is the head of our household and as his wife it is up to me to support him. So, support him I did. And Alex moved up to 6U.
I've tried to be positive about it in front of Alex, but I STILL feel like it was the wrong decision. I miss the other coach and how he seemed to really care about Alex. Alex doesn't seem to be playing as well and honestly seems way out of his league. Last night at practice, I will admit that I had a bad attitude. It was raining, it was late in the evening and I didn't want to be there. It was all I could do NOT to let Alex see that. Luckily he didn't pick up on it and played like a trooper. Well, he played hard and didn't give up, but he didn't play well. They had to bring the tee out for him to hit off of - something he didn't need in the fall. I could see the discouragement on his face but he made me proud by never giving up.
We came home wet from the rain and I'm ashamed to admit that I brought my negative attitude back home with me. Sitting there at the field, I was sure I was right. We'd made the wrong decision and it was going to be a terrible season. No one was going to convince me otherwise. When I woke up this morning, with the same thoughts, I knew I had to do something. So, instead of continuing to stew in my "I am right and everyone else is wrong" attitude, I decided to e-mail the coach. Not to tell him we'd made a mistake, but to ask his honest opinion. He has a son on the team and I decided to ask him to be honest with me. If Alex were his son, would he want to have him play down a level or keep him where he's at.
Unfortunately I ended up even more confused. The coach said Alex has a great attitude (yeah for that) and he doesn't seem discouraged in his eyes. But on one hand he thought it would be better for Alex to be with kids his own size. But on the other hand, it was good for Alex to be with kids his own age. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't get him to recommend one way over the other.
Is any of this the end of the world? No, of course not. But with Alex's hyperness and tendency to be silly and goofy, I was excited that we had found a sport that seemed to fit him well. Now that the new season has started, I feel like we have lost that and it's just going to be another sport he won't stick with. As an only child, I think it's VERY important that he play team sports. I believe he can learn a lot from playing with the other children and not having everything his own way.
So, what to do, what to do? Today I'm asking for your opinions. Am I making too much out of this? Should I just let it go and get through the season? Should I try again to convince my hubby that I'm right or does that go against my role as a Christian wife? One thing's for sure, I definitely need to do some more praying. Hopefully today God will give me some good direction so I can't stop dwelling on this.
Thanks everyone for listening and for your advice. Love to all!
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