I have a friend who is newly 5 years old, and is fighting a cancer that is spread throughout his body. His mother is a woman of great faith, and - as the family is in the throws of a full-on battle with this cancer - has the fortitude to be an inspiration to others. This is her latest journal entry. I a humbled by her faith, humbled by this little boy's faith, and humbled by all of their strength.
Friday, November 27, 2009 11:21 PM, EST
We are headed into the hospital Monday for another week, more chemo.
It’s not easy for any child to be in the hospital. Early in Everest’s hospitalization, I shared with family/friends that I was concerned about him managing the hospital and all it entailed with his sensitivities. Has the cancer, pain, and the extreme month of tests, transition and treatment escalated how he sees his experience and responds to it? Yes. Yet I’ve been realizing cancer or no cancer, Everest is who he is…loving, creative, restless, strong, sensitive, driven, challenging, brave, curious, stubborn, thoughtful, and always beautiful….He’s our Everest. We give thanks.
Such thanks in this light allows me to recognize that the traits I first worried about when looking at “How do we get him through treatment???” are likely the exact traits required of him to climb this mountain. Sensitivity makes him extremely aware of what is going on around him. Even though sometimes he may not have the words to address things, he is a participant in all that is happening and his being will not allow him to be anything else. Awareness brings strength. Stubbornness means it takes a heck of a lot to get medicine down him at times, but it’s that same drive that will fight, fight, fight. Giving thanks for all parts of him I am reminded where we each need to be, about ourselves and in how we see others.
In our home we talk about being a child of God and celebrating that we are God’s children. In everyday activities and with our congregation, Good Shepherd, (who bless their hearts accept we don’t always make it there every Sunday, or with two young kids roll in late!) Everest sees gifts in each person he meets. While enjoying stories and pictures sent from many of you he asked, “How do they ALL know I am here?” We talked about how it was important for us to tell people who love him that he wasn’t feeling well, so they could share prayers for him to get better and good thoughts to help him feel comfortable in treatment. My words came out, “Because you are a very special child of God.”
His response was immediate and strong, “BUT MOM…EVERYBODY IS A CHILD OF GOD!” I tried to be a bit more specific, only to be met with the same response even louder. “EVERYBODY!” To Everest, every life is special and valuable. If only we could package that and sell it, but I know it spreads….It spreads.
So, as we pack bags to head back in, and my mind knows all of this I have shared with you, please send prayers, warm thoughts, and peace our way. The minute we get on the floor, my heart will again need reminders to keep celebrating every day, every person, every part….even when I am tired and not seeing as clearly. I thank God for Bill as well. He brings me back when needed and holds a caring, calming strength. We are a team.
(Also, though Grandma Sandy is as strong as they come, she has been ill and receiving treatment for an intestinal illness. She is on the mend, but has struggled as all she wanted to do is be here and play with her Everest. Please keep her in mind as well.)
Finally, thanks to friend Ruth (the Elder) for the hymn reminders. I have been in prayer in a very meditative sense; seeking quiet spaces, walks, chapels. But yesterday I sang in the tub! It was full of spirit and needed.
Here we go! Everest is strong, like a mountain. He’ll again climb another stretch of his journey as only he can. -Liz
The “tub hymn” for those who wish to raise their voice for Everest…
Earth and all stars! loud rushing planets sing to the Lord a new song!
Oh, victory! Loud hosts of heaven sing to the Lord a new song!
Refrain:
God has done marvelous things.
I too, I too sing praises with a new song! (repeat)
Hail, wind, and rain! loud blowing snowstorm sing to the Lord a new song!
Flowers and trees! loud rustling dry leaves sing to the Lord a new song!.....
(Refrain)
Trumpet and pipes! loud clashing cymbals sing to the Lord a new song!
Harp, lute, and lyre! loud humming cellos sing to the Lord a new song!.....
( Refrain)
Engines and steel! loud pounding hammers sing to the Lord a new song!
Limestone and beams! loud building workers sing to the Lord a new song!.....
( Refrain)
Knowledge and truth! loud sounding wisdom sing to the Lord a new song!
Daughter and son! loud praising members sing to the Lord a new song!.....
( Refrain)
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
An Encounter
Odd, what happens in the check-out line at Walmart sometimes. Today, as I was loading my groceries on the belt, I noticed a book on angels and miracles amongst the People magazines and National Enquirers. I picked it up briefly, glanced at it, and then put it back on the shelf, going about my business. A few minutes later, an elderly gentleman behind me did the same thing. Then, he tapped me on the shoulder.
"Do you mind if I tell you a story about a REAL angel encounter?" I told him I didn't mind at all.
He then proceeded to tell me that he was a crisis chaplain for the military. He was counselling a man who had been in the elite forces in Cambodia years ago, a group of 31 men sent to capture Pol Pot. They never got him, but captured (and beheaded) several of his hench men. Upon their return to the states, all but 5 of those men died from self-inflicted injuries - suicide, drugs, alcohol. This man that he was counselling was one of the last five left, and he had contacted this chaplain because he wanted him to preach at his funeral. He was planning on committing suicide in the near future, and was making his arrangements. The chaplain called a friend, and together they prayed that angels would protect this man from harm until he had a chance to know God. Two days later, he received another call from the vetran. He said that he had been out in his field, riding his tractor, when the tractor went over an embankment and rolled. Twice. On top of him. It was heading for a third time - a blow that would surely have killed him -- when a large, bright figure stopped the tractor. Just as it was about to crush him. This man was not a believer, and he was afraid to tell anyone about what had happened to him, afraid he was going insane. So he called this chaplain - the one he wanted to preach at his funeral. The one who had prayed not two days earlier for angels to protect him. And the one who is now leading this man to know his Father.
The man behind me in the Walmart check out line had tears in his eyes as he told me this story. I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. So I muttered something about "WOW", and then kept unloading my groceries. There was awkward silence on both our parts, but I kept feeling like I needed to say MORE. After a few minutes had passed, I turned to him.
"Well, I believe in angels, too. My son was miraculously healed. His kidney." And then I had tears in my eyes, too -- talking to this perfect stranger about precious, private things. He just looked at me, and said "I don't normally talk to people about this stuff, but the Holy Spirit prompted me to talk to you. You are a believer?"
"Yes," I said. He nodded.
"This world needs all the believers it can get right now."
I agreed. And then there was nothing more to say, and I paid the cashier, gathered my children, and left.
One can truly encounter God anywhere. Even in Walmart.
"Do you mind if I tell you a story about a REAL angel encounter?" I told him I didn't mind at all.
He then proceeded to tell me that he was a crisis chaplain for the military. He was counselling a man who had been in the elite forces in Cambodia years ago, a group of 31 men sent to capture Pol Pot. They never got him, but captured (and beheaded) several of his hench men. Upon their return to the states, all but 5 of those men died from self-inflicted injuries - suicide, drugs, alcohol. This man that he was counselling was one of the last five left, and he had contacted this chaplain because he wanted him to preach at his funeral. He was planning on committing suicide in the near future, and was making his arrangements. The chaplain called a friend, and together they prayed that angels would protect this man from harm until he had a chance to know God. Two days later, he received another call from the vetran. He said that he had been out in his field, riding his tractor, when the tractor went over an embankment and rolled. Twice. On top of him. It was heading for a third time - a blow that would surely have killed him -- when a large, bright figure stopped the tractor. Just as it was about to crush him. This man was not a believer, and he was afraid to tell anyone about what had happened to him, afraid he was going insane. So he called this chaplain - the one he wanted to preach at his funeral. The one who had prayed not two days earlier for angels to protect him. And the one who is now leading this man to know his Father.
The man behind me in the Walmart check out line had tears in his eyes as he told me this story. I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. So I muttered something about "WOW", and then kept unloading my groceries. There was awkward silence on both our parts, but I kept feeling like I needed to say MORE. After a few minutes had passed, I turned to him.
"Well, I believe in angels, too. My son was miraculously healed. His kidney." And then I had tears in my eyes, too -- talking to this perfect stranger about precious, private things. He just looked at me, and said "I don't normally talk to people about this stuff, but the Holy Spirit prompted me to talk to you. You are a believer?"
"Yes," I said. He nodded.
"This world needs all the believers it can get right now."
I agreed. And then there was nothing more to say, and I paid the cashier, gathered my children, and left.
One can truly encounter God anywhere. Even in Walmart.
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