Looking Inside to Better Understand the Outside

Here we are a mere two weeks since my last post with another national tragedy plummeting our nation into mourning.  It's difficult to understand how much we can absorb as human beings in terms of death and dying.  The news media though, if one follows it at all, cannot even by will, escape the ongoing intensity of the events of late.  The residents of Toronto are handling this event with grace and dignity which is truly a model for the entire world.  No protests, no lashing out, no hatred or denunciation of any perpetrator, just bonding together in loving, caring peace.

The events sort of remind me of my own harrowing experience with tragedy from over 15 years ago when my first husband Rick died suddenly one Sunday morning getting up to pour me a cup of tea.  A scant three weeks later, my Dad who'd offered to stay with me overnight for a time after Matt went back to university, went into acute heart failure at 5:30 a.m. the second night he was with me.  As it turned out, the same ambulance crew arrived and whisked Dad off to KGH who remained in ICU for a time, moved to a ward for two weeks before being discharged home.  Initially though, they'd said things were 'grim' and he may not survive.  All I could think of was how, before I could even start grieving for my husband I'd been yanked sideways into a whole different calamity.  Keep in mind, my nuclear family consisted of my father, husband, son and brother.  Period.  I remain thankful to this day for the many friends who supported me at the time.  As God would allow, we got to have my Dad around for almost two more years despite increasing frailty.  My husband Mike was able to meet and get to know my Dad for all of six months which was a blessing as Dad said to him while in hospital "I can go in peace now, I know she's not alone."  Whew, didn't realize all that was going to come out just now but come it did and, as I've said before, I rely on Holy Spirit to guide my hands to put out the messages which may be helpful to others.

Last Thursday, April 26th I rang the bell at the Cancer Centre, which you may know, signals the conclusion of a series of chemo treatments.  It was my last session of 18 which I believe has been a positive experience of managing this ongoing illness.  While my energy levels are admittedly low, it's hard to feel down with the actual signs of spring teasing us into exploring outdoors and planning our summer gardens.  

This coming Thursday, a cat scan is scheduled to determine more precisely how effective the chemo over the past five months has been.  The followup review and discussion of next steps will be next Tuesday, May 8th.  It could be anything from going on a maintenance program (of chemo) to simply going back to 'watchful waiting' and taking action only when my body misbehaves.  There was a large two page article in Saturday's newspaper focusing on the Cancer Centre and it was the very last sentence which piqued my interest in saying how cancer can be managed as a chronic illness.  I agree with that while also acknowledging it can also become nasty with little regard to anyone's life situation.  It's what we do with the time in between and, also during, treatment which is most important.

Just after my last post, a thought tumbled down into my brain, raising my spirits in a very airy, light, almost feathery way.  It was how the activity I've been keeping myself busy with can be considered part of my own personal ministry.  Obviously, over the years, dealing with people one on one, face to face, even email or by phone was always the best part of any work I did.  Well now I get to do the same thing only in a much more relaxed way, building it into my own waxing and waning of energy.  I'm being given the gift of being in contact with people while practicing some of the things which come naturally to me.  I quite enjoy sharing ideas and thoughts with others and hope I do so through these posts but also in other ways.  

These days it seems like I'm almost in a period of waiting.  Having said that, isn't most of life about waiting in one form or another?  The secret is to spend that time in the best way we can which brings us peace and comfort rather than frustration and impatience.  Maybe it's the time to spend building up my energy after the constant weekly draining of my body's fast growing cells.  I'm feeling like it's important to relax into this time of healing in order to be ready and willing for whatever God has planned for me in the coming weeks and months.  Have you ever felt a sense of being in a desert or a little boat out at sea, not really knowing when or where you might land?  I've had some of that going on around the edges of my being lately.  It's time to sit quietly, often, and look inside by spending time with myself.

I'm wondering if part of the answer came in the form of an email from Fr. Stephane, a dear sweet friend we've known since his arrival in the Kingston area more than a dozen years ago.  He was only 33 or so at the time but he could give homilies and tell stories to keep the congregation spellbound.  I have been in more frequent contact with the most recent email from him being an invitation to take part in an entire long weekend course in May.  He suggested if God is bringing my health back to me, it is for a mission!  While I whole heartedly agree, I must admit I was somewhat intimidated by having someone else point it out right there in black and while.  It gave me pause to think of what the true, first disciples of Jesus had to decide on, when they left everything to follow Him.  To even consider such a notion on a minute scale is daunting.  I suppose it's a healthy reaction anyone would have to such a challenge.
Without going into detail which I might be guessing about, here is part of the email Fr. Stephane sent:

There is a "Moses", within each one of us.
With our qualities and flaws, we are called by God and sent by Him: to be delivered into freedom for Him, and become the instrument of His liberation of others.

Here I am then, acting in my usual manner of discerning a little bit then jumping in with both feet, trusting this is what I'm meant to do (next).  I'll let you know at the end of May how I made out!  

In the meantime I hope to get some creative juices flowing in terms of planning a little more in the gardens, finally planting some perennials to ward off the invasion of weeds in a long planting row at the bottom of our retaining walls.  One of my very favourite things to do is to nurture a 'friendship garden' with cuttings or divisions of plants from people I know where I can 'visit' them while tending to their individual gifts of life.  

As the weather warms up, I hope you too find something to bring peace into your heart and nurturing for your soul.  Enjoy the wakening of spring and I promise to do the same.

Until next time,

Hugs and God Bless,

Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com

"Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive."

Taking Grace Filled Steps in the Right Direction

I start this post with the same sadness permeating across our entire country right now in wake of the tragedy in Humboldt, Saskatchewan.  It's taken a few days to resonate deep down into my soul and work through my ability to detach in times of deep emotional trials.  Watching how it touched every town everywhere across Canada from the very young to the young at heart.  Having billeted hockey players from the Kingston Frontenacs for seven years in days gone by, those frequent, long distance bus trips were the norm for the young man who had hockey in their hearts.  We pray for all involved and their families.  It's the least, and the most, we can do.

Shifting to the medical update, we're down to two chemo sessions left of the six cycle protocol started on my birthday in November.  While my eyebrows have pretty much disappeared and my hair is obviously thin, I've had fun pencilling in brows to add a touch of colour.  An interesting feeling came up during this time.  When I first had chemo in 2013, I couldn't have imagined going through it without a wig, it truly made the whole situation bearable.  This time, despite the cold and winter weather, wearing my wig somehow represented 'giving in' to the illness.  Perhaps it's because it doesn't matter as much anymore.  Even little Ella, at 6, matter of factly stated a schoolmate was bald because she had cancer.  Our grandchildren have not even noticed, let alone comment on any change in my appearance over the past few years.  What a great way to chip away at feelings of vanity and settle into whatever is coming our way.

This week, I've reduced the hydromorphone again, down from 6 mg. twice a day to 3 mg. so a 50% reduction.  Within a month I should be weaned off completely.  It sure is losing it's grip on my mental state of feeling snowed under, for which I'm grateful. It's been most helpful to separate the aches and pains into compartments.  While my oncologist and symptom doc need to know about any and all  issues, we deal with those related to my illness.  After all, think about it.  Would you ask for a referral to an oncologist for lower back pain?  It almost makes me laugh to even consider it!

A trip to the physiotherapist this week was helpful.  Even through the assessment, he was able to jiggle and jostle some of the vertebrae making them hurt less and move more.  We were in agreement my problems are both muscular and mechanical thereby needing manual manipulation followed by exercises I can do myself.  What a good feeling to know you're on the right track instead of complaining and feel sorry for yourself.  Next week's treat includes a massage and a physio session on the same day!  Once the 'hands on' work is done, I will see a second person to update the exercise regimen.

While I've had to adjust to a much lower energy level, in my opinion anyway, I must say of late, I've felt the closest to my old physical self as I can remember.  

Now on to some of the fun we've had the last couple of weeks!  Easter dinner included Brooke, her mom, 3 kids and our friend Joyce with the rest of our kids doing what they do where they are.  I realize how much I enjoy the grandparent part where there isn't a reliance on us to conjure up all the fun and games on special occasions.  The little top up we provide to the fun is appreciated by all, along with dinner of course.  Is it merely a sign of getting older?  

On Tuesday following, I was relaxing, reading the paper when the door bell rang only to see my friend John (from the pool) at the door asking if he could come in.  He said he'd emailed me (a message I hadn't yet responded to) and with no answer needed to check in to see if I was ok.  I offered tea, he said yes.  He announced he'd brought his accordion and harmonicas to play a little Nfld. music.  What a great time we had for a couple of hours, playing music, drinking tea and discussing how we each begin each day listening to Holy Spirit to guide us through the hours ahead.  He's much further ahead on that than I am with the stories he shared.  I'm going to keep practicing.  

The next day when I went to the pool, one of the usual groups of young challenged adults arrived.  One young man always shakes my hand asking "What's your name again?", repeating it three times.  Not today.  Today he said "Hi Liz. I'm fine" repeating it three times.  I felt a burst of joy that he remembered my name this time.  Making my way across the pool I said hello, by name, as with all of them, to a young woman who takes up her place at the same spot every time.  This time, instead of gruffly acknowledging me, she opened her arms, hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.  It's hard to describe the feeling, even as I type the words. A simple friendly greeting week after week; how nice is that.

Our dear friends Shannon and Tony arrived for a two night sleepover to make time for all the catching up from almost a year of not seeing one another.  We can't go to them because of their resident parrot Tiki, who Tony mimics perfectly to howls of laughter.  Mike's allergies as birds are pretty much at the top of the list of animals.  We played tourist and visited the Kent Monkman exhibit at the Agnes Etherington Art Centre at Queen's.  It was a deeply thought provoking, and troubling, depiction of how our native peoples were treated by the European settlers.  For me, it seemed to pull the whole Indigenous issue together into one compelling story.  All I can hope is many others have had the chance to see the impact history has had. 

As our guests departed, I had enough time to dash into the shower and pack for a weekend silent retreat at Manresa Jesuit Centre in Pickering.  My friend Dianne picked me up and off we went, chatting all the way to drain ourselves of as many words as possible before the cone of silence descended.  You may wonder how I can possibly stay quiet all weekend but it's surprisingly simple.  Why?  The reason is to settle, listen to a director speak, in this case, about seeing ourselves from God's perspective and then reflecting on it long enough to possibly hear God's whispers about what the message means to each of us as individuals.  We were invited to ask to see ourselves through God's eyes and heart.  To remain open to receive the love and mercy of Him.

A few key messages included:

• The love of God for us cannot be changed.  (Luke 15:11-32)
• It's not about how bad we are, it's about how beautiful we are to God.
• God's perspective is true, we are His children, in whom He takes delight.
• Just being close to us brings God joy.
• If we don't put our gift of love through our faith in His hands, we deprive God of His joy, of being loved, of the delight he takes in us.
• Perfection is not the goal or desire of God - it's us, as we are.
• For us to hear, recognize and receive God's love is what He wants.

During the closing session, called 'open circle' we have the opportunity to share with the group of 40 or so participants, what we gained from our experience.  My original comment was 

"Allowing the learning from this weekend to settle in will help in my efforts to stay on track.  I've received the grace of better understanding of how my Best Friend views me.  I have passed another point of freedom in my life".  

For some reason I rewrote my final comment which I shared.  It was, 

"They say when the student is ready, the teacher appears.  Lately I've been practicing a new response to other when I offer something or try to do something for someone and they try to refuse.  I say 'Please don't rob me of my joy'. (and it has gone over very well of late).  Now I can consider the same response from God's perspective and not rob Him of His joy when He offers His love to me."

Thank you Fr. John for giving me the grace to see.

I wish you the grace to see how much you are loved, right where you are and just as you are.

Take care and God Bless,

Hugs

Liz

dobbsjones@gmail.com

"Prayers wrapped in faith and sent with love are the greatest gifts we can receive."