I had a tiring day yesterday.  Worked all day, then off to the hospital for a CT scan.  My appointment was at 5:30 and I left the hospital at about 8:30.  Long day.  This is my yearly one…just to make sure there are no changes.  I am feeling good so I am not worried on the surface.  However, down deep I know it is eating at my mind.  I know that there is a word more scary than cancer…it is recurrence.   I do not know when I will have the results.  My doctors appointment isn’t until the 24^th.  That is a long wait…but I also know from experience that if it is bad they call you. 

The procedure itself went well.  Only one stick, and though it was a big one, it went pretty well.  What I didn’t expect was my reaction to this procedure.  I have had a couple of these now and I know what it is like.  I told Bill not to come because I would be fine.  It seemed crazy to me to have him miss class for this.  For the first hour and ½ I was right.  I drank my dye and read magazines, completely uneventful.  It was when the needle was going in that I had a problem.  Not my usual needle issue, but more like a traumatic flashback or something.  Kind of a panic rising up. Like the whole cancer thing and all I have been through was right there on the surface.  I had to close my eyes and really concentrate to not fall completely apart.  Then God…I love it…then God reminded me of my secret place with him. I am not alone, even when I am alone. It was a sweet moment. I was able to rest, even as the hot dye was running through me.  It didn’t take but a few minutes for the test to be over but the lesson was learned.  He is there, yet again, because he will never leave or forsake me.  Now to remember while I wait…

I have heard you can tell a lot about someone from their medicine cabinet.  It is true!  Today I took on the purge of my medicine CLOSET.  Our bathroom closet is the landing place for any and all medication except for our everyday use items that are in the kitchen.  I have been wanting to get into that closet for a long time now and get it straight.  Today was the day.  My kids are gone for the weekend, Bill has a ton of homework for school, so I decided to take advantage of my time and purge.  I emptied it first…just that took 30 minutes.  The junk and mess was embarrassing.  Lets just say I am glad I was alone. 

However, as I began to take a better look, something strange happened.  I walked, step by step through my cancer.  First, I came across the bag of supplies for the wound-vac.  Tossed most of them happily.  Next, was the pain medication and my anxiety pills.  A little later a bottle of nausea medicine.  My scar cream, all the different types of tape we tried, then the estrogen patches, pills and creams.  Gauze, alcohol wipes, stuff to numb my port, step by step a journey through my closet was a journey through my sickness. The insulin I needed after chemo and all the syringes, medicine for chemo induced heartburn, mouthwash for chemo induced mouth sores. Antibiotics for infections. Vitamins to help hair grow, and herbal cream and shampoos for the same.

The good news is that even though it hit me hard how difficult it all was, and how much my body actually went through, I was purging and tossing and cleaning out all remnants of my cancer. Today, I must say, was the best Saturday I have had in a while.  I am clean and cancer free.  Now, so is my closet!

We stand at the foot of a mountian or at the top of a ravine.  We shout..."Hello!"  We wait.  At first there is nothing, only silence, then comes the echo.  Hello, hello, hello.  It reverberates against what stands in front of us.  Sound waves bouncing and returning to their source.  It is a child's dream to shout at the mountain just to hear the return of his/her voice rushing back in sounds that repeat the message sent.  It is a scientific phenomenon to be sure, but in the moment it is sent, that fact escapes the voice of the sender of the message.  In the canyon the message sent brings words rushing to the hearer. 
Now think of God's words shouted...I Love You!  Can it reverberate?  What stands in his way?  Not mountains or valleys...only our hearts.  And his message is sent and there is silence while he waits for our response.  Will his message return to him in  many voices?  Will he hear it?  I love you, I love you, I love you. the voice of the sender returning to his ears. 
Then will we shout his message so that the voices can be many?  Can we share his message so that it echoes to all the hearts around us.  He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.  It is an echo, a message...a scientific principle?  I think not, it is a spiritual principle that is set in action by his voice.

I know a man named Frank.  I say this sentence in present tense because even though Frank’s body died on Monday he is still alive.  I cannot tell you how this man encouraged me during my journey through Cancerland.  Having ALS for years, he has been acquainted with the fact that bodily death comes to every man.  His body has been giving way to it for a long time.  However, his spirit did not.  While his physical body was dying, his spirit was growing.  His love for God is evident to all that know him.  His desire to be with Jesus rules his days.  And now, he is there, where he has dreamed of going so many times. 

Frank loves to worship.  The disease stole the ability to play an instrument, but instead of hindering him, it inspired Frank to find new ways to worship.  For me, he made CD’s of Christian songs for me to listen to while undergoing chemo.  The songs were full of messages of hope and faith.  He knew the toll facing death can take on your mind and he selected the perfect songs to sooth my heart and bring peace.  Each CD was different from the last and each one was perfect for the place I was in my journey.  It is a gift really to help people walk through illness when you know the chances are slim that you will survive yours.  I told Frank to tell Jesus I love him if he got to heaven before me and to dance for me.  Years in a wheelchair without bodily functions that most of us take for granted softened his heart. He is a gentle man whose eyes sparkle with mischief.  Humor flowed frequently and easily from his mouth, an inspiration that God is bigger than any disease. His powerpoint slide presentations inspire with their pictures set to music. An encourager to the end, he always looked up.

I know that he is dancing now.  His arms are free to worship again and that has got to be the most liberating experience.  I am sad that Frank is not here on this planet any longer. I will miss his e-mails of kindness.  There will be one less daily visitor to my blog, and as that number pops up each day I will know that the one less is Frank.  However, the grace that he moved in here, he now LIVES in there.  What a celebration!  His funeral will be evidence of this truth I am sure.  He has had months to plan exactly what he wants…I am sure it will include music, power points and humor…he would have it no other way.  Most of all he will glorify God…both with his physical departure and his spiritual arrival.  His is smiling even now in his new freedom from this body of death.  Frank is a blessing, he always will be.    

Last weekend, I arrived at Amicalola Falls at sunset.  The view from the lodge was breathtaking.  Dusty Blue Mountains outlined in glowing pink rolled like ocean waves.  I was struck by the difference between the mountain and the valley below.  My cabin sits in a forest next to a bubbling creek. It is quiet except for the gurgling of the water.  The mountain top is inspiring, the valley is refreshing.  On the top the view is so clear you can see into forever.  In the valley view is limited to what is right in front of you. 

In the morning, it is dark in the valley as the sun creeps up to the top of the mountain.  The mountains blush in the dawn light.  The wind whips the trees and brings a haunting song.  The valley is tucked away.  No light. No song…just the continued rushing of the creek, rolling steadily along.  On the mountain there is an echo as sound rushes out to greet the day and return back to say good morning.  In the valley, it is silent.

Life is full of mountains and valleys.  We can see the future and all looks bright when we are on the mountain.  Faith is close to the surface as it bubbles up in inspirational thoughts. The wind of the Holy Spirit is blowing and singing to us.  We can hear the song and following it seems as natural as breathing.  The Son shines in our hearts and those around us can see him clearly.  God is faithful and all is well.

Then the high of the mountain top gives way to the depth of the valley.  It is dark here.  There is no voice of the wind to guide us.  We cannot see more than a few feet in front of us.  We have to take stock of how limited our vision is when we are here.  It can be a restful place if we let it.  No faith just bubbling up here… here you have to seek out inspiration.  The consistent roll of the water reminds us that God is faithful even when we cannot see the Son directly.  The echo of good morning does not find its way to our ears, but we know it is a good morning anyway. 

We go to the valley to learn how valuable the mountain is.  We go to the mountain to appreciate the valley.  Life is made up of both.  When you are in one or the other, lessons come that make us take stock of how God uses both.  It is my prayer that you will embrace the valleys in your life, so that the mountain tops will cause you to soar.

I am inspired.  I went to a writer's workshop this past weekend. There were ten of us working with a wonderful author/mentor.  It was great to be with people that have a love for words and especially children's literature.  I haven't written children's stories in a while.  My blog has been my journal through my sickness and all other went on the back burner.  Not any more.  My first love was children's picture books.  I do not plan to limit myself to one type of writing or another.  This weekend we each started with a small idea for a character and, with the help of our fearless leader, developed a complete story.  It was amazing to watch the creative process going on in 10 different brains.  We shared our stories and developed trust.  It was a FANTASTIC experience.  I am still revising my story with the help of my new friends.  If I could just finish this degree I could really have some time to write!  Actually, all joking aside, the process we developed at this workshop is helping me with my research as well. 
I will fill you in on more later, the day after I got back Peter broke his arm, and William has a terrible cold turned infection.  A few days away and the world falls apart.  I had my diabetes doctor appointment today and my blood work was fabulous!  A1C 5.4  She couldn't have been happier with the blood results.  However, my weight is up and my blood pressure too.  Not extreme...I say it is from sitting in doctors offices all day.  I am going to try a different medicine to see if that will help.  She seems to think that the weight gain is a post menopausal thing.  She said she couldn't complain because my blood looked so good.  Another relief...

Have you ever had a day when your world fell apart?  I have had several of those over my lifetime.  I think that they are common to the human condition.  It is what you do in those heartbroken moments that define how the trauma will change you.  I have a friend going through some very rough stuff right now.  The rug has been pulled out from under her and everything she has known is being shaken.  Her determination to let God have his way is admirable.  She is on her face broken before him.

I believe the word when it says God draws near to the brokenhearted.  It has been proven true over and over again in my life.  He uses our brokenness to heal us.  This is another of his wonderful dichotomies. He sees a much bigger picture than we do.  To him the discomfort we experience is momentary.  To us, however, it seems like forever.  When relationships are broken, and the tension is high, we run into his arms for safety and comfort.  It is much like a parent when a child falls and skins a knee.  There is a connection when we know that a parent is there to pick up the pieces and kiss the boo boos.  Boo boos happen. Comfort flows.  God wants us to run to him in dark times.  He wants to hold us and say it will be all right.  It is his secret place where nothing matters but the love of a father for his child.

There is a scripture in Hebrews that I have turned to many times in my life for comfort.  I know that most would not consider this fiery prophesy comforting, but I see it as a statement of God’s faithfulness and his hand even in life shattering events.  See what you think…12:26 “At that time his voice shook the earth but now he has promised ‘Once more I will shake not only the Earth but also the heavens.’  The words once more indicate the removing of what can be shaken-that is created things-so that what cannot be shaken may remain.  Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be THANKFUL and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.” 
     God shakes things!  A calamity like cancer, or wayward children or a broken relationship is not a surprise, but a tool used of God to remove what needs to be removed.  Wonder of wonders…what is left is the solid foundation of Jesus on which everything else rests.  Priorities come into focus.  Mindsets shift.  We begin to think eternally rather than temporal.  When we reach this place, we thank God for the fire.  It is a cleansing fire, consuming all that is chaff.  Does the fire hurt?  You bet.  Is the shaking scary?  More than you can imagine.  Is the result sure?  Nope.  The only sure thing is that if you let him, God will turn what is meant for evil to good…if you let him.  He is in control.  We are not.  That is the rub of this whole thing.  We want to know the end of the story.  He loves a mystery. One foot at a time.  Step. Step. Step.  One day, one hour, one moment at a time.  These heart wrenching life circumstances force us to live moment to moment.  Breath to breath. 

We can trust him and lay it all down, or we can wrestle.  There is peace when we sacrifice control.  Rest, wait.  It is he who does the work in us.  As a speaker at our church said last week, “Apple trees do not grunt and groan to make apples.”  It is true, when we abide in him during a dark time, he does the pruning, the feeding, and the watering.  It is he that grows the fruit.  We cannot rush it or slow it down.  His timing is perfect.  All we can do is sit, in the quiet place while he does his work on our hearts.  It is freeing to release the striving of life and rest. It is not our job to fix everything, and every person in the world.  We were created to worship him and to bring him glory.  (Our top priority) He is our audience of one.  Our father that runs to kiss our boo boo and make it right is the healer longs to touch us and make us whole.  Will we let him?  Can you trust him to bring peace in the fire?   

I remember when I was little that my mom had these friends that would come to our house.  She called it the “bridge club”, but over all the years I only remember them playing bridge one time.  I am sure they played more than that, however, in my memory I do not think that card playing was the point of the gathering.  It was more of a support group, ladies that walked arm in arm through life. Over the years the group changed.  Some ladies moved away, others joined the group.  There were tears and laughter as they helped bare one another’s burdens. Raising children from childhood through adolescence to adulthood and beyond, this group bonded together to cheer each other on. 

I have a group of women like that now.  My own “bridge club,” only we call it a prayer group.  It is the same thing.  We meet when we can, but that is not often enough.  Praying together is only part of our bond.  Our children are teenagers now so much of our time together is venting and seeking advice and guidance from each other.  We rejoice together and weep together.  It is like the scripture describes within the body…we feel each others needs and come together to lift them up to the Lord.

God has blessed me with friends that care about me.  They carried me through my cancer on their prayers.  Now there are family issues that are surfacing within the group.  I plan to carry them as well.  Fellowship with like minded women is a true treasure.  God could have said, “I am all you need” and it would have been a true statement.  We could survive, and even thrive if all we had was Jesus.  However, he created us to fellowship with him, but with others as well.  He knew we would need other women in our lives.  He reveals so much of his nurturing nature through the heart of women.  We may have our weaknesses, but women also have captured the ear of God.  He has a special place in his heart for us, and he hears our prayers.  He sees our pains and our insecurities, because of this he gave us each other so we could remind each other to look to him for answers.  We carry our friends to his feet when they cannot carry themselves.  Friends are a blessing to wonderful to comprehend. So when you see your friends today remember God’s provision for fellowship and encouragement…friendship.

The phone on the wall in the kitchen gave a shrill ring.  I walked from the living room, leaving my tutoring student, to answer its cry.   

“Hello?” I answered.

“This is North Fulton Medical Center calling.  Are you related to Ray Gunnin?”

“Yes,” I replied, “I am his wife.”  I do not know why I said that.  To me my husband has always been Bill and his father is Ray, but for some reason, on that day, I knew the voice was talking about my husband.

“Ray has been in an accident,” the calm voice continued.

“What is his condition?” I wanted to know. Not a very smart question when the hospital calls instead of your loved one.

“He is non-responsive. The neurosurgeon is on the way.”

My knees buckled under me as my world changed.  Tears came to the surface quickly as I tried to keep breathing.

“Mrs. Gunnin are you there?”

“Yes.  I…I am….” I said from my crouched position on the floor.

“Good.  Do you have someone there to drive you?”

“No.  I have a tutoring student here and her mom will be back some time…later I think.” I fumbled for words through my tears.

“Mrs. Gunnin stay on the line with me until you calm down.  Take some deep breaths.  It will not do your husband any good if you wreck on the way to the hospital because you couldn’t see.”   I sat on the floor, and the little girl in the next room came in now eyes wide, knowing something was terribly wrong.  She remained fixed in one spot. Silent, just watching.

This was the beginning of my day 20 years ago.  It did not get better as the day progressed.  In fact, it got much worse.  The accident turned our lives upside down.  It was catastrophic.   Now, looking back I am so thankful for God’s faithfulness.  He brought us through.  He healed and restored.  We still mark this day each year.  A day of remembrance we call it.  Today it was breakfast out as a family.  The kids put aside their schedules for an hour to honor their dad.

I am thinking that we should have more remembrances in our lives.  Not just the catastrophic ones, like head injuries and cancer. What about the beginning of a new day?  Or the memory of a warm family gathering?  We could remember God’s faithfulness on payday.  We could stop right now and think of all of his blessings to us. We do not have to wait for some anniversary to remember. We do not have to wait for Thanksgiving or Christmas to do this…in fact it might be less stressful to do it today…an ordinary day. Daddy’s Alive Day. 

What a week.  The snow last week and then again on the weekend messed up a regular schedule.  I seemed to be on the wrong day all week.  I could get used to working three days a week and then being off!  It was nice to curl up in front of the fire and read.  I also got a lot of research done...yuck.  But I am caught up to some degree.  Next week my big literature review is due and that will be a relief to have over with.  It is keeping me from my real writing here.

This morning I came over the top of the hill at my school, the mountains were lined with glowing red that spread into pinks and purples as the sun came up.  Blue hills stand there each morning to welcome me to work.  Mist, fog, or snow...the mountains are there.  I love it!  It is like a surprise that awaits me every day.  I am so grateful to God that I have such a glorious reminder of his faithfulness.  I do not always notice because my mind is occupied with the worries of the day.  I forget about all that he has done for me as I "get on with life."  It is a sad thing how humans can be so pre-occupied that we miss God's daily love letters to us.  I think he must write many of them each day just trying to get our attention.  Like when a husband sends flowers to his wife, he longs to show us his love.  We just need to open our eyes.  Today's sunrise was too spectacular to ignore and my heart overflowed with the way he loves me with complete abandon.  I want to love him back with as much passion as I saw in the glowing sunrise.  Whew...what a God we have!