A Superhero's Kryptonite

We are all born wearing a superhero cape.  We come into the world believing we will make a difference.  We cry, expecting to be responded to, expecting to make an impact and change a situation that needs improving (namely, our empty stomach or dirty diaper).

As toddlers and young children, it is no different.  We pretend we are creators of our own worlds, rescuers of bad situations, mothers to babies, builders of towers, makers of gourmet foods and drivers of racing cars.

Moving on to middle school, we begin to have dreams of greatness.  We will one day become rock stars, models, singers, dancers.  We will be playing in the major leagues, the quarterback, the fastest, best looking and we will influence our world.

High school promises once again to prepare us for greatness.  We look to prepare ourselves not for a mere job that will allow us to make ends meet, but for a career, an identity, a chance to make something of ourselves and influence those around us.  We graduate with ideals of doing life differently than the generations before that sadly had to plod behind those before them.  We will go a different route, blaze a trail, be original and thereby, free the world from the norms of drudgery it has so far known.  We will be amazing!

Invincible.

Life begins to settle in a bit more in the next stages, perhaps.  We get married, maybe have children, work on our careers.  But we feel other people becoming dependent on us.  We are needed, we are valued and we are making a difference, even if it is only in the heart of a 2 year old child or as a cog on the turning wheels of a corporation, we recognize need and our superhero capes, though shortened over time, still live on.

But for some of us, there comes a kryptonite.  Cancer.  And I imagine this may not be too different from any number of various diseases people are diagnosed with.  They have this ability to disarm us, rip the capes from our backs, knock the shields from our arms and wrestle our weapons from our hands.  We are left standing helpless against it.  It weakens our immunity, strips us of our power, and makes us one of the very people we were sent into the world to rescue, to help.

There are few other ways to describe the helpless feeling, the suddenly stripped defenses we feel when we receive the news.  And each waiting period for diagnosis, for the next step in the process, for test results, appointments and treatments is a further wearing away of strengths we thought we once possessed.  

Soon we find ourselves operating within a whole new set of rules.  People are telling us to "take care of yourself" and to "take all thet time you need".  They tell us, "I will be praying for you" and "let me know if you need anything, anything at all".  

Wait!  Superheros take care of other people, they don't spend day after day worrying about themselves, or their own well-being.  They go out and do stuff, and help out.  They make a difference by bettering the lives of the people around them.  It feels as if someone has reversed the polarity of our world.  Wasn't I just impacting my world for the better yesterday, and yet today we are discussing surgeries, radiation and medications?

No longer invincible.

And suddenly, we are no longer sure that the good guy will always win.  Suddenly all those dreadful things we hear on the news could just as easily be us.  We now swim in a tremulous ocean of potential disasters, whereas yesterday, we stood securely on the shore.   Fears and worries enter into our minds, that before we would easily dismiss, not giving them mind due to our busy days and plans for moving forward.

I know that one day, I will be there again....working to make the world a better place, moving forward in life and taking an active role as caregiver, friend, wife, mother.  But right now I am still reeling a bit.  I am too close to the kryptonite that continues to weaken.  I can still see my superhero cape torn in shreds and lying before me.  Right now it's too raw, to real to think past it much.

Because I have faith, I believe as it is written that there is power in weakness.  Our weakness, God's power.  What choice do I have?  I do not know how this works, and many moments I confess very little hope.  But I do remember a man who once wore a cape, wore a thorn of crowns on his head, and had  rods of steel put into his hands.  And yet, somehow, in his kingdom of backwards thinking, he changed the world. 

The Crisis Connection

It's interesting how a shared crisis can bring people together, no more than that.  It can bond people together in a way that is unspoken, yet very real and strangely connected.

I have cancer.  No, that isn't quite right.  There is a small lump in my left breast that has been tested positive for cancer.  Invasive ductal carcinoma is what it is called.  But my whole body does not have cancer.  My whole being does not have cancer.  I am a very healthy person.  But this lump, it does have cancer.  And since the moment I found out about this, I was inducted into a special, amazing, and widely varied group of people.  We are people who have experienced cancer.  And unless you have been through it, there is no explaining it.

In the grocery store today, I ran into an old friend of mine.  I had known he had struggled wit cancer in the past and he informed me that his cancer has returned.  I could see it in his face, and the way he talked and even the way he spoke the words.  There was a recognition there of something I am also going through.  There were the slight eye shifts, the gentle tug at the chin and the corners of his mouth that let me know exactly what he was feeling.

So far, I haven't made it a point to tell a lot of people about my cancer.  It's not that I don't want them to know necessarily, but I don't want cancer to be who I am.  People know me as a person who is kind, or funny or whatever.  I do not want to be known as the person with cancer.  But as I spoke with my friend, I felt compelled to let him know that I understood, that I was part of the "in" crowd when in came to the unspoken griefs one wrestles with in this situation.

It has interested me that as people find out, they feel compelled to connect you with other people who have also experienced this unfortunate crisis.  And it is helpful.  It is encouraging to see so many healthy, happy people walking around who have once experienced the same thing you are now going through.  They understand your struggles in ways others cannot and can offer a knowing look as well as a "you will get through this" that becomes much more than a platitude.

I am thankful for the brave men and women who have shared with me their stories and struggles.  And I know there will be more.   I am thankful for the advancements in modern medicine that allows so many people to become survivors rather than victims.  And each day, each moment that grabs me with panic or worry remembrance, I think of these people and it makes it easier to take the next step, knowing I am in good company.

A Process

Today I am upset.  I am in a process of grieving of sorts.  And I do realize it's a process, but today, it still stands that I am upset.

I am upset because of untruth.  I am upset because of people who would rather live in darkness than in light and therefore ruin good things.  I am upset because sometimes it doesn't feel like the Good is really winning and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.

Recently, we made the choice to leave our church.  It was not an easy choice.  And though I do believe it was the right choice to make, it does not make me happy to have made it.  And now there is a time of saying goodbye.  I know the church will continue on without us, as it should.  But I grieve for the good that was left  that we will no longer be able to be a part of.  And I grieve that our leaving may mean things will become more difficult for some people there.

I grieve mostly because it seems that good people, God's people, are being deceived and would rather listen to lies than to truth.  No one can make a person see truth.  No one can make people believe truth.  It is an option.  But when we become so entrenched in lies that we can no longer see truth, we begin to call those lies truth and hang on to them for dear life. 

It makes me worry for my own life sometimes.  What "truths" have I hung on to and defended, not realizing they were really lies?  Some, gladly, I can look back and see how God has brought parts of my thinking into the light.  But there are other parts I wonder about.

So today, I am upset, angry and frustrated.  If I could scream loud enough and people would hear me, I would do it.  If I could give something or do something that would change their points of view and open their eyes, I would.  I love that church and the people there.  What can one do when people would rather walk in darkness than in light?

One person knew what to do.  He let himself be killed in order that people may see and accept the light.  I am not that man.  But I do follow him and wish to be like him.

Lord, open my eyes to any lies I am accepting as truth.  Open my heart to feel what you feel and see what you see.  Give me the strength to die over and over again if that is what it takes for people to see and accept You.

Think About Such Things

Sometimes I forget how important beauty is. I'm not talking about being physically beautiful, although that could be included, I guess. I'm talking about the beauty that is in creation, in nature, in a good moment with your kids, an intimate time with your spouse, the beauty in friendships and laughter and good food. It's the beauty that quiets your mind, warms your heart and gives you hope.

And I've forgotten how much God loves beauty, how he lives in it and desires it for us.

For so long now it seems my life has been about problems - my problems, the kids' problems, my friends' problems, the church's problems. There's always some problem and a question about how to solve it, what to say, what to do about it, how to handle it. There is prayer and trying to seek God's will in handling the problem.

There will always be problems. And there will always be beauty.

It seems you can focus on only one at a time. If you are focusing on the beauty in life, focusing on truth and goodness and rightness, then the problems become little bumps in the road along the way. If you are focusing on the problems, the beauty seems blurred as you rush past it with the singular goal of solving the problem.

I'm tired, so tired of solving problems. I can't do it anyway. I can't fix anything except maybe dinner. So really, living life for the purpose of solving problems, though sometimes necessary, seems fruitless in the end. But living a life seeking beauty - in people, in relationships, in all of life, well, it just seems that eventually you'll find it.

Paul writes: "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Phil 4:8.

I think it's time to switch my focus.

Changing again

It feels like everything is changing again, or it's about to. The kids will be returning to school in a couple of weeks, I'm trying to get a job subbing in the school system, things at church are changing with some people going, some new people coming. I'm getting older, and I can feel things in my body are changing. The weather will be changing soon. Our small group is looking at possibly some big changes coming, so friendships are changing, too.

Amidst all the change, I am learning a longer view of life. Things do change. Life is all about change. All things do have a season. Some are better and more enjoyable, and some take a lot of hard work and endurance. But there are good things about every season and bad things about every season. If you don't like the season you are in, just wait. It will change after a while.

But change is hard. I don't like it. It gives me a bit of a panicky feeling; like I want to hold on to something - some part of the past or present that I fear will be gone forever. I want to move ahead and grow and learn and discover, I really do. But the change, saying goodbye to people, routines, familiar faces and patterns, it's just hard.

Change is coming. There's nothing I can do to stop it, or slow it, or even in some ways, control it. I guess I just need to take a little bit to say goodbye to what is leaving before I'm ready to say a joyful hello to what is coming.

This is that goodbye.

Of Fallen-ness and Salvation

Unedited - sorry, you get the rough draft. Just too frustrated tonight not to put something down.

People. If, in the end, it all comes down to people; it means fighting and pulling and shoving and grabbing and wanting and needing.

And hurting.

It comes down to selfish words and slicing statements meant to harm.
It comes down to hate and envy and wanting revenge - wanting my own way and demanding to be heard and fighting for what's mine and what I think I need.
It's about greed and jealousy and suspicion and treachery.
It's about wanting and warring and being better than you.
It's about me and mine and ultimately - my need.
It is the ugliest, dirtiest thing you've ever seen.

It is the darkness of the soul.

It is vicious and loud and cunning and piercing. It invades and infects and controls and permeates. It pushes and distorts and wrestles and calls.
It is a darkness that makes you wonder if you've ever seen light. It's a filth that makes you question if you've ever been clean. And it comes and picks and destroys and breaks you down until you can no longer stand.

In the end, it is a heavy darkness of a hopeless heart.

But it is not truth. And it is not the end. There is another way - a better way.
A Way that lifts and lives and builds and protects and sees in bright color.
It hopes and heals and restores and reassures and calms.
It speaks peace and climbs and discovers and wills to have all creation rise with it.
It desires and trusts and speaks and sings and shouts. It rises higher and moves onward and outward and upward. It does not stall or pause but pushes forward with the intensity of life and love and goodness.
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be slowed, cannot be diminished. It cannot be hidden or avoided or mistaken. It cannot be misunderstood or forgotten.
It stands.

Always.

Forever.

This is where I choose to stand - where I choose to go - who I choose to be.
I am moved by power not my own, guided by wisdom I do not possess and see things my hands cannot reveal.
I am a witness to the wonder beyond my greatest imagination and formed daily by a hand so mighty, yet unseen. Here confusion becomes clear, and weakness becomes strength, darkness becomes light, and goodness - goodness is a perfect purity that permeates existence.

It is here that I stand.

It is here that I wait.

It is here I believe.

Florida vacation post #1

Naturally, the one vacation I decide not to bring my journal, since I haven't used it the last few times, I really wish I had. So, I'm blogging instead.

We got into Florida last night and down to the keys today. Finally to our condo this afternoon. What a long drive! The first two days were fine, but after about two hours today, we were all going a little nutty.

Over all, though, the drive was interesting. I loved driving through the mountains in Kentucky, seeing the deep gorges and the villages in them. I wanted to stop at the places where they cut through the rock to lay the road. The rock faces were absolutely beautiful. I could have stood and studied the various lines and colors and textures for hours. There were even some with small water falls coming out of them. It was also cloudy that day, so some of the mountain tops disappeared in the clouds and wisps of clouds floated past our van as well. I wanted to get out and stand on the edges and yell down into the valleys to see if it would echo. But, we needed to keep driving. Perhaps that could be another vacation.

It was neat to see the red dirt in Georgia, and even the vegetation here is so different than what we have at home. I love the moss trees - they give the same mood as our weeping willows, but with a softer feel. And of course the palm trees are fun and somewhat whimsical. There are a couple coconut trees down on the beech here, we've talked about buying one down the road and seeing if we can crack it open.

The resort here is amazing - very nice! Our place has two rooms - a bedroom with two queen beds and a living/kitchen room. Two bathrooms and a deck out each room that overlooks the pool area and the beach and the ocean. We'll go out tomorrow and get groceries so we can eat breakfasts and lunches in the room.

We walked around a little bit and I think I could probably just walk around all week and explore and be perfectly happy. The beach area isn't very sandy - it's more made up of broken coral and shell pieces, which makes it even better. We saw two jelly fish that had washed up and one of them had light orange veins running through it - it was very pretty. Saw several blue man-o-wars all ballooned up. Those don't facinate me as much, though. The piles of shells and shell pieces could keep me occupied for days. I'm so weird that way, I guess. There are pieces of things wrapped in the seaweed as well. Pieces of brain coral and clam shell and periwinkle shells and tiger shells and all the rest - too fun. We even found a piece of sponge that was quite nice. The patterns on the shells are endless and I would love to have time to look at every one of them. My guess is that while the kids swim in the pool, I'll be at the water, just bent over looking.

Although, I do look forward to getting in the water again as well. I love swimming and the pool is heated and pretty big.

I could go on, but April wants a turn with the computer and Nathan wants his bed set up.

Hopefully I'll write again tomorrow night.

Goodnight.