Light of His countenance

When Russell was two he fell off a toy horse, requiring stitches just above his eyebrow.  His cries stopped abruptly when the nurse placed a sterile cloth over his entire face, leaving just an opening over the affected eyebrow.  In the sudden quiet, from beneath the cloth, his small voice asked, “where my face go, I can’t see it?”

I could only hold that chubby little hand until his face was once again uncovered.

Learning what the thrice-weekly injections produce begins a process of “unveiling:” what happens next and what will each day bring? There is something creepy about plunging a needle into your own “pinched inch,” and Chip can attest to the whining that is accompanying the “procedure!” Yet, being the invaluable cheerleader that he is, he both holds my hand and eases the “push.”  And there is a slow “lifting” of the sterile cloth of Interferon’s side effects that has saturated these last many wks.  (Hallelujah!!) Walking is once again an option,  and the extreme fevers are diminishing!

I may not see the months ahead, but the Face that I seek daily is secure and steadfast.   “Faith is being sure of what we HOPE for and CERTAIN of what we do not see.”  Though I am enticed to run ahead and try to imagine what the next 140 injections will bring, God emphatically instructs us to “not worry about tomorrow.”  “I am your answer,” He says instead……holding my hand until I can “see” again….and for as long as that might take.

Meanwhile, the faces and hands that ease each day and bring such comfort and care into our lives has been the Light of God’s own Face that has shone like a beacon through the shadows and quiet. 

The Real Deal

Four weeks, twenty eight days, one month:  A segment of time that arrived with a multitude of unfamiliar afflictions in both severity and steadiness. The fevers, headaches, nausea have been accompanied by a profound sensitivity to light and sound, affecting the ability to read, converse, and at times, even think.  This last week has been particularly fierce with short forays away from what has become a safe haven: my bed.  I hesitate to describe the harshness of what the hours have brought, as if the tenor of each day was colored solely by the tone of such intensity.  Yet, the blunt reality is that an element of these days has afforded me an even clearer vision of who God is, and the security in the joy of His presence.

Wrestling with the honesty of not giving up hope, pressing away the fears, searching for solace in the dark, quiet hours: I have not been alone.  In the rawness of each moment exists the Sovereign Father who will not let me go. Regardless of the depth of the darkness, He is Light. In the booming noise of pain, He IS the sound of sheer silence that brings peace.  Not a vacant hope, but an expectant assurance that He WILL answer. 

Jesus’ brother, James, opens his letter with the gritty advice of “considering it pure joy whenever you face trials of many kinds…..”  For most of us, “Pure joy” is most likely pretty far down the list of reactions to pain and suffering.....maybe even at the bottom of the list. Certainly sounds counter-intuitive!  But without the trials can we even begin to recognize the depth, or begin to grasp the love that is poured out for us.  Christ willingly submitted to a suffering that is beyond my imagination….so that I would not face this alone.  The confidence of comprehending that truth IS the joy that cannot be diminished by any amount of adversity.

The next phase of the Interferon treatment is eleven months of self-injections, three times a week, about half the dosage as what the infusions have been.  I don’t know what to expect; the effects and their gravity remain unclear.  But I am certain of the promise of Psalm 16: “You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

It is a good path, and the joy does not disintegrate with the difficulties. I am so vastly grateful for all those who are enabling the blessings through prayers and countless kindnesses!

Shield of defense

Elementary science taught most of us that our bodies are comprised of both red and white blood cells. We see the evidence of the red cells….maybe not always a pleasant sight, what with needles and such, but blood is certainly a good thing to be running through our veins.  The white cells are less conspicuous, but there are approximately half a million white blood cells in every drop of human blood. They are responsible for fighting off infections and protecting our bodies from foreign particles…..germs, bacteria, viral cells. Physically, we are under attack, but our intricate systems are well equipped to battle the alien organisms due to these cellular soldiers that are constantly at work.

An important segment of this regime is closely monitoring my white blood cell count. The “numbers” plunge during the wk, causing concern; yet each Monday the count has mercifully returned to a more acceptable level. I am thankful for these microscopic warriors that are defending my system against assault from unknown harm.

As impressed as I am to have these minuscule guards protecting my well-being, I am far more grateful for the God who thought this all up in the first place as He “knit me together.” The life sustaining cells, both red and white, vital and essential, are a pale shadow of the greater life  supporting blood that was shed for me and promises an eternal safeguard. “By His wounds we are healed.” Though I pray for those white blood cell counts to remain strong, I rest to a much greater degree in the promise of  Psalm 91that pictures the mightier protection that is ours for the asking, and is even more trustworthy than the miracle of our battling blood cells.

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
       will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
       my God, in whom I trust."
  Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
       and from the deadly pestilence.
  He will cover you with his feathers,
       and under his wings you will find refuge;
       his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
  You will not fear the terror of night,
       nor the arrow that flies by day,
  nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
       nor the plague that destroys at midday.  
  If you make the Most High your dwelling—
       even the LORD, who is my refuge-
  then no harm will befall you,
       no disaster will come near your tent.
  For he will command his angels concerning you
       to guard you in all your ways;
  they will lift you up in their hands,
       so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
 "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;
       I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
 He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
       I will be with him in trouble,
       I will deliver him and honor him.
 With long life will I satisfy him
       and show him my salvation."

Rock of Ages

I endured freshman geology. I could not imagine at the exceptionally mature age of 18 that igneous rocks would EVER capture my interest, much less inspire me to understand their formation.  Their significance dropped off my radar screen as quickly as the final test was filed away.

Or so I thought.  Life has an amusing way of re-introducing matter like bell bottom jeans and platform shoes,  as well previous ideas and thought patterns that might require a second glance. Hiking mountain trails, rafting through the Grand Canyon, climbing over nearly dormant volcanoes, I was suddenly not only aware of igneous rocks, but I became sincerely interested in their substance.  They were relevant because they moved from a textbook to under my hiking boots.

Unlike enduring a class so long ago that I believed to be irrelevant input, each day of these treatments arrive with endurance built on anticipation and expectations.  Anticipation for the moments that are GOOD:  opening encouraging cards and packages, taking a short walk, enjoying the exquisite bouquets of flowers that dress our porch. The expectations that Mary and Joelle, the nurses at the infusion center, as well as the entire staff, are profoundly caring and exude infinite kindness: the warm blankets they wrap around you, the care with which they administer the IVs, their tender attention. It is a triumphant endurance.

An igneous rock is molded from heat and pressure, and develops the strength to be chiseled and polished. Each day of endurance brings an added measure of hopeful confidence in the One who is performing the polishing.  Romans 5:3-5 promises that “we can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance.  And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”

These are GOOD days, and I am thankful for all who make them so and a heart that is filled to overflowing!

A good race

I began running shortly after our first son was born.  My Dad was a runner before there were Nikes, and I would like to say that I was inspired by his endeavor.  However, the motivation had much more to do with Richy Kreme do-nuts and KFC that I had wrongly assumed to be a part of pre-natal care. For well over 25 years running and races were a pleasurable regime.  The goals, the training, the cadence of your own heartbeat become familiar friends.

 This week-end marked the half-way point of this first month of treatment. When running any race, regardless of the distance, the mid-way site is always a welcome mark: you know how far you’ve come, you fathom what it takes to finish.  Although there continue to be a few surprises, the recurring side effects of the Interferon are no longer lurking as unknowns and the pattern of each day is more anticipated. ….and  half way feels like a victory.

Paul ‘s letters  contain various references to races and running.  He was perfectly accustomed to the Greek athletic games of the day and knew well what was demanded of the competitors. He mentions the racers, the prize, the goal, the training, and the rules governing the race.  From Philippians 3:12-14, in “the Message,” Paul states, “I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.”  That echoes why this half-way point feels like a victory……I see the goal, and where God is beckoning, open to the peace and growth that happens along the way…..deeply grateful for the support and encouragement that the countless prayers are providing.  Thank you for being such a vital part of the race!