When I was walking in the woods the on Saturday I had an interesting experience.  I parked in an area designated for parking.  I was the only car.  I walked a little ways down the river. I saw a rock with a name painted on it and the dates…like a headstone or a memorial stone.  It was on a bed of rocks and I thought it was a nice gesture there on the riverbank, a wonderful memorial in this picturesque place. I continued and crossed a small creek then hiked up to some giant rocks.  I sat on one for a long time just to watch the river and listen. 

Soon, on the road that runs next to the river, there were 8 to 10 cars.  I thought it odd that there what seemed to be a procession in the middle of nowhere.  From a distance, I thought it sounded like they parked in the same parking area where I was parked.  I was not concerned, but I did think I had better head back soon.  I figured I would hear voices since it was a kind of cleared out area with fire pits and such.  Maybe they were having a reunion, or some kind of party.  As I climbed down from my perch and began my hike back, I noticed a crowd of people gathered.  They were drinking beer and dressed all in black.  I figured they were bikers, only without bikes. I was a bit nervous because they were between my car and me. 

As I scoped out a roundabout path, I noticed they were all wearing the same black hooded sweatshirts.  It was unusually quiet for that number of people.  I noticed that they were gathered around the rock I had seen earlier in a semi-circle.  At one moment, five of them threw ashes up in the air and into the river.  There were hugs and tears, followed by toasting.  Evidently, I had stumbled into a memorial service.  It was an odd thing to watch not really knowing what was happening.  However, even from a distance I could feel the sorrow.  I had just been inspired by the nature all around me and then this unexpected event charged in to “my” space.  Only it did not take away from my thoughts, rather added to them. The commonality of death was once again in my face.  It was not morbid or depressing but an urging to look carefully at life and to take nothing for granted.  The ashes blowing in the wind were crying out my motto…live fully!

I love to walk in the woods.  When life is loud or confusing, the quiet of nature calls me to come.  However, today all of nature was crying out as I hiked.  I could see life lessons in every stone, branch, and leaf.  I tried to shut out my thoughts without success. I could write a book sitting in one spot along the river.

I know that all of creation testifies of him.  I believe that is why I am so drawn to it.  It teaches.  The seasons, the storms, the ocean…are all instructors of his nature.  The play on words is intentional.  His nature is revealed in nature.  Please do not be confused by this.  God’s joy is seen in the waters as they leap over the rocks. Trees growing in strength over countless years show us his patience. The delicate wildflowers are evidence of his gentle kindness just as the great roar of the waterfall is a demonstration of his power.  All of nature cries out to us, “Look.  Listen.  The Creator is here.” 

I watched the water flow, slapping the rocks as it went, in such a hurry to get to its destination.  It giggles as it rolls along the banks…rushing towards the ocean as if it was a race. The ocean of God’s love is worth racing towards.  In my life, I desire to flow in joyous abandonment like the water in the river.  I have a longing to give up my self-focus with a joyful heart so I can blend with others as we race towards God.  I want the joy of the Lord to be my strength. 

Along the edges of the river, there are stagnant pools filled with slime. The life of the flow does not reach these pools.  The water is putrid and dirty.  In life, there is no joy in holding onto bitterness, it stagnates the heart just as the pools beside the river.  With the flow of the water, there is forgiveness and without it, there is death.  I want to choose life and flow so I must also choose forgiveness. 

The rocks in the center of the river would seem to impede the flow and yet, the water swirls around them and continues moving towards the ocean.  In fact, the gurgle seems the loudest as it crosses the rocks.  The oxygen bubbles up and whitewater is the result.  The water closest to the rocks is the purist because of this oxygenation. 

Rocks of affliction try to stop the joyful flow of my life but despite the tumbling turmoil, I continue to move towards God’s love.  As I go around or over the rocks in my way, my cries to him become loud like the rushing of the water.  He brings his spirit to breathe life into me.  My heart is the most transparent when I am in this place of hardship.  I am cleansed in some way; having suffered and it deepens my relationship with him.  This allows me to gain compassion for those rock crashers around me.  We share this breaking in a common stream as we continue to move together through the rocky places in life…with joyous abandonment.  The nature of God is a river of joy.

Okay, so Max Lucado doesn't answer his mail directly and his agent is confidential information...I pretty much figured that.  But I DID get a reply from his assistant editor...or something like that.  They are sending me a packet that they send to all the writers that contact them...I guess I am not the only one that wants to write like Max when I grow up.  The packet is a how to get published packet...so we will see if my stepping out continues forward.  

I had a shot yesterday for red blood and had more blood taken.  It is very routine now.  I hopefully will hear good things today about my blood.  I have two more shots for sure, before they reevaluate if I need more.  That is it for now.

I was talking to a friend today about fear and how it holds us back from stepping out into what we are called to do.  I think that it is hard to live fully when you are afraid.  Your passion, that which is desperately trying to pour itself out from within you, is paralyzed by fear.  Panic overwhelms and makes us squirm like a worm on a fish hook  We want out and away from the pressure…but we are caught. 

Fear stretches our faith, it causes us to question and grow. We search for the heart of God when we are afraid.  Once we find him, freedom follows.  We see that he is bigger than our small view of life.  Surrendering our fear becomes possible when our view of God changes.  Then the freedom to move and to pour out what we carry comes.  It is the stepping off the cliff of fear that builds our faith.  He will catch us.  He will set us free.  Standing on the edge causes us to hope against hope and to blindly trust.  The fall into his arms is the freedom we seek.  It is exhilarating and causes us to wish for more.  Each time we are on the edge we wrestle again with the high stakes of the step off.  But freedom brings us to the place where we learn to jump into his arms, like a child to its father.  Then he sets us free to fly by his grace.  We soar high above the pond where we were once squirming on the hook.  We are free to follow our dreams and use our gifts.  Come soar with me!

This past Saturday I went to a literary festival in Dahlonega. My good friend Beth Ann told me about it.  I had no idea what a literary festival was.  I hadn't ever been to one.  I didn't know what to expect...I guess I was thinking it would be a bunch of people that liked books, which I do, buying books.  But it turned out to be much more than that.  It was inspiring.  I heard some internationally known authors read from their work.  They had panels of authors telling how they got published, their steps when writing, how to find a literary agent and publisher...all kinds of helpful things.  I didn't stay for the whole thing, but I did get some very useful information.  I think it was a God thing that it just so happened that I would go to this festival a week or so after I finished the first chapter of my book.  I am going to be published...someday.  But now I know the steps it takes to get there.

It is so great when God keeps on prompting you to move forward with the dreams he gives you.  First he gives you a dream.  Then he gives you the gift to make that dream a reality.  Then you get the idea that because you are moving forward in it that it is up to you to make it happen.  Then he reminds you it was his to begin with and he gives you the exact steps you need to make it come to pass.  Then he pushes and pushes you to keep moving towards that goal. If we could just learn not to give up on his plan.  We well ourselves short so many times...to live fully...that means pursuing our dreams.

I was watching a person at a restaurant the other day.  He had a significant scar behind his ear.  You could still see the stitch marks.  I wondered what trauma he had been through recently to warrant brain surgery.  Last week at the doctor’s office, during my 3-hour wait, we tried to pick out which patients had wigs.  It was a big office shared by other doctors with other specialties so not every one there was a cancer patient.  We thought we were pretty accurate in our count…but you never know.  That is the truth.  Look around you at any given time and you never know what people are dealing with.  To see me walking around at a store or a mall you would never know I have battled cancer.  Most people cannot tell I have on a wig.  The ladies, I met along this bumpy road through cancerland do not always look sick either.  You never know.

I guess my point is that we do not really take the time to notice details.  Our lives are so busy we just go through the motions and never really take stock of the people we come into contact with daily.  That is a sad thing. If you look in their eyes sometimes, you can see the fear or the sorrow.  You can see the battle within or weariness.  Sometimes people are angry and bitter...or lonely.  Our world has such a different effect on each life.  When someone has the joy of the Lord, you can see that in their eyes too.

Next time you are in a public place with many people take a minute to notice.  Look at them and in their eyes.  Then pray for them.  Smile at them.  Talk to them.  You will be surprised at how much it will touch their hearts because…you never know.   

There are only two things that live beyond us…our heart words and our children.  Our contribution to the future is tied up in those two things. When I say heart words, I mean what pours from our hearts.  Some heart words are not actual words, but notes to a song or paint on a canvas.  They are the things that express our hearts in ways others can be inspired.  It is the depth of meaning that our heart words carry that lives on beyond our lives and touches the future.  When we are finished here, whatever we have poured into our children remains.  They carry with them our hopes, and dreams…our heart words.  If we did not have any they carry that as well. They carry what we were about while we were here and they pass it on...empty words or full ones.  

The thing about kids is they have selective memories.  Sometimes they remember our worst moments more than the outstanding ones. Their view of things can be entirely different than ours.  This is where our heart words come in. Our passions can live on for many generations after us.   To encourage someone with words is a great thing…but will they remember?  If you write the words down, record the song, paint the picture, or build the dream, then there is power. Any time they are discouraged, whether you are present or not, they can be inspired by what you left behind.  That is why we still read C.S. Lewis, and Detrick Bonhoeffer.  That is why we love great art or a great symphony.  That is why the bible still touches us today.  God’s heart words created life...his gift to us.  Ours can stir up that life or crush it.  That is the power our words have.

To live fully you have to think…if I died today have I done everything in life I wanted?  That means have I poured my heart words of life into everyone I love?  Is the passion of my life clear?  Have my heart words glorified the one who gave them to me?  Have I done all that he wanted me to?  I do not know how to explain it other than to say, I do not want to stand before the Father without pouring out what he had for me to give. 

Cancer does not give you guarantees.  Right now, it is gone and I have a clean bill of health.  As far as they know, I will live to be 90….as far as they know.  However, I do not know that because cancer does not tell its secrets.  So, if I find out in a year that cancer is back, what will I have done differently?  These are not meant to be morbid thoughts…but practical ones.  Right now…today…I think pouring out into the future is the most important thing…whether it is through my own children, my students or my heart words.  I want to paint a picture with my words so they will live on for hundreds of years beyond me.  I want to inspire someone to do what it is that God has called them to…to live fully, not to shrink back…to pour out their own heart words. Just think of how many people could be changed, inspired, moved, and empowered if just one of us lived like that.  I guess Jesus proved that.   If you do not have any heart words…I know the giver of words. He has some for you, so you can pour yourself out and use them to change your children…and the world.

I went to the oncologist yesterday.  He is the one overseeing my chemo.  He went over my CT scan which was normal and clear in every way!  He released me to go back to my other oncologist...my surgeon.  I will see her once a month for the next few months.  My blood count is still low but climbing.  I will have to have red shots for the next four weeks at least.  He said it would take at least that long for them to get into normal range.  He seemed pleased with my progress.  He said I was the only good case he had all day...all the rest were bad news.  We got there at 1:45 and left at 4:45.  I saw him for maybe 10 or 15 minutes.  He had a long day...God bless the people who do that job. 

I went back to curves tonight.  I made it around the circut twice...  I am taking it slowly but it felt good to stretch and move my muscles like that again.  I have missed the stress relief.  I am recovering.  It is offical.  My hair is growing...kind of...it is white.  This should be interesting...

I wrote this for the newspaper because they have a Mr. Romance contest every year to win a night out.  I am posting it here because I got the date wrong and submitted it a week after the deadline...chemo fog strikes again.  It is short and sweet...there was a word limit. Happy Valentine's Day!

I would like to tell you about a romance.  It is not all about moonlight and roses even though that is how it started 20 years ago.  Nevertheless, somewhere between candlelight and cancer life changed. What started as a friendship between Bill and I, has blossomed into a deep commitment “for better or worse…till death do us part.”  Marriage is never easy, but the trials of life build the bond of a lifetime.  This year, the fiery trials came from an unexpected illness.  I had a bombshell diagnosis of uterine and ovarian cancer that whisked us into the whirlwind that is Cancerland. 

During this journey, Bill has been by my side at every step.  He cried with me when I was afraid.  He held me during the panic following my diagnosis.  He sweated it out in the waiting room when they found more than they had expected.  I could not lift my head after surgery, so he did it for me. He helped me to stand when I could not bear the pain of it.  When my incision came open, he helped dress it daily.  He fed me when I did not feel like eating.  He drove me to chemo and sat for 6 hours by my side each time.  He held my hand when they tried to find a vein.  He comforted me when my bones ached.  He took me to doctor’s appointments and emergency rooms when I had infections.  When my blood was in the danger zone, he sat while they transfused me. The great thing is his smile and jokes made me laugh through the stressful moments. And now, he is helping me to heal and recover.  He is buying me clothes to make me feel pretty again. He going the extra mile to make it to doctor's appointments so he can support me and ask questions. This is an amazing man…God has given me.  He has shown me the love of Christ in an incomprehensible way.

Every teacher has bad days.  Days where you wonder if you are really making any difference at all.  When you hear a former student dropped out of school you can not help but think did anything I did matter. 

Then you have a breath of fresh air.  That happened to me yesterday.  A former student sent me flowers.  A note that said Mrs. Gunnin Happy Valentines Day.  Thank you for helping me learn to read.  I love you.  CB  It had hearts all over it.  I cried.  It is things like this that keep you going as a teacher.  As more and more stuff comes down from the state level that makes teachers jobs nearly impossible to do, it is these moments that I cherish.  I do make a difference after all...whether the state believes me or not.  🙂