On being an Easter person...

Easter has passed, in a flurry of rainy weather, food and flowers. With a bit of chocolate thrown in.  At first, I felt a little surprised by the coming of Easter. It seemed like it sneaked up on me while I wasn't looking. I felt a bit lost, because usually the Easter season is a time of reflection for me, aided by liturgical material that helps me draw close into worship and a renewed focus on Jesus's life and power at work within me and my world.  When Easter just seemed to jump out at me this year, I initially felt that I had been negligent, too focused on Mutant to meditate on my Lord.

 I waited for the tsunami of guilt to hit.  What came instead was grace.  And clarity.  I've been clinging to Jesus, like a monkey on her mother's back.  Forget holding onto the hem of His robe, I've jumped into His arms and am clinging to His neck with everything I've got. My face is pressed into His chest, when my hands shake with nerves, He takes them in His own and holds them until I am calm again. He wraps Himself around me at night, in my husband's love.  He responds to the prayers of others with a deep sense of His peace and stillness.  He throws His head back and laughs joyfully with me in the sweetness of my children.  He breathes hope into me in the quiet life of the forest. He speaks into my Spirit through His Word. He is undeniably, powerfully, soothingly, honestly, deeply here. Alive. In me.

Yesterday, on Easter Sunday, I remembered a sermon I once heard that encouraged me to be an Easter person.  Easter people are alive, deeply, extravagantly, spiritually alive.  Easter people live daily filled with the power that raised Christ from the dead, alive and active within them. (Eph. 1:19-20)  To me, in these days, being an Easter person means being brilliantly alive even as Mutant is trying to end my life. It means serving others with the power of gentleness and compassion even as I struggle with pain in my body.  The power of Easter, the power that lives in all those who have welcomed the Spirit of Christ into them, is the power of love, of patience, compassion, gentleness, humility, forgiveness, protectiveness, trust and hope. (1Cor. 13:4-7)  We have access to the power to love, radically, sacrificially, extravagantly, but we don't all choose to live in that power.  Easter people love fearlessly.  Ah, but we have to have common sense.  No, we don't. In fact, Easter is the celebration of what God can and will do when we put down common sense and self interest and embrace love fully.

So, I think the reason the Easter weekend surprised me is because I have been living as an Easter person more and more these days. Thanks, oddly, to Mutant.  Don't get me wrong, I still want her dead, dead, dead.  And to that end, I'll be starting radiation treatments this week. 

Oh, and Grace is coming home this week!!! She'll be here with us on Sunday!  Lately I have literally been pining for her, that aching longing to have her in my arms again.  Oh my goodness, I am happy that I will be seeing her soon!

Peace out!

On Google and overthinking...

Today was a rough day. Mutant is causing quite a bit of pain, as well as messing with me in other ways.  As a chronic pain patient, I am accustom to living with some level of pelvic pain on a daily basis, and often the pain from my IC (interstitial cystitis) is more intense than what Mutant is doing to me now. But Mutant pain is more difficult to deal with emotionally.  I have spent years getting used to the idea that pelvic pain, no matter how strong, is not dangerous.  IC pain has been described as at times equaling the pain of bladder cancer.  It's benign though, always. While I may get irritable and weepy after several days of intense IC pain, I always know that at some point it's going to recede and I'm going to be fine.

Cancer pain is not like that.  It's malignant, threatening.  Cancer pain makes me feel fragile in a way that I am not used to.  It's difficult not to obsess on it. What is Mutant doing? Why is she hurting so much now, why is she bleeding?  Why do I feel so bloated and tired and why do my hands keep shaking? Why does my blood pressure keep dropping, leaving me feeling weak, shaky and dizzy? And what's with my new obsession with scary movies and television shows? And cereal? And super hero pjs?

My mum used to tell me that I over think everything. She was right. When I was younger, I think I used to frustrate her.  Everything was a big deal.  Being an over thinker is rough business when you're young and don't have a lot of perspective.

There's no question that I'm going to totally over think the cancer thing.  I think I need to. I need to know not just what I'm feeling, but why I'm feeling it.  As I've gotten older, I've learned that thinking and talking about life experiences, especially hard ones like death, illness and heart break, serve a purpose.  Talking abut hard subjects gives others the freedom to share as well, if they wish to. It breaks open the lie that we are alone, no matter how we may feel.  To hear someone articulate what we are going through, because they're going through it too, is a powerful thing.  The Bible speaks often about the power of words, about the importance of speaking truth out loud, to ourselves, our loved ones, our communities.

I think I also need to pay attention to the cancer thing because over the years, I have learned to ignore symptoms.  Chronic illness does that.  For a while I was hyper vigilant about my body and symptoms, but who can keep that up for years on end? Now, I'm like, Meh, if I wait long enough, it'll go away.  Enter cancer.  About two and a half, maybe three months ago I started hemorrhaging vaginally at around 11pm and it continued until almost 4am.  My response? Huh. That's weird. It didn't hurt, so how bad could it be? I figured I'm perimenopausal, it must be some kind of freak uterine last hoorah before the whole thing shuts down production at what I hoped was the near future. It made for a long night, but eventually it stopped and life went on. Needless to say, I wouldn't be as blase about something like that now.  Live and learn, huh?

To be honest, I am depending on God to keep me grounded.  To keep me from wandering too far into the future, from borrowing too much trouble from tomorrow.  Because frankly, Google is no help at all.  Google will not only offer me terrifying tidbits from my own future, but from other people's as well!  You wouldn't believe how many of my prayers begin with, "Okay, God? I was just on Google, and..." God is, like, child, back away from the computer...

Yes, God keeps me grounded, and filled with a sense of His care, and love.  And patience. Man alive, does He have patience!

Tomorrow I have a meeting with my radiologist, and hopefully treatments will begin soon. And on a positive note, I did read (yes, on Google) that the hair loss that is associated with radiation treatment is confined to the area being radiated.  So my mop should be just fine.  Woot!

And the beat goes on...