Pulsing--but Not Flowing--the Stubborn IV

Yesterday I went to Pierre for an IV Vitamin C. Two nurses set up at a charming little venue called Magpie's Gathering Place in Ft. Pierre where they offer supportive IVs to people like me.

"You have good veins!" IV nurses tell me all the time. They can see them, they can feel them, and so can I.

I also feel the poke. Usually I can manage the pain without a big problem, but last night, something was different. The pain was radiating clear down to the tip of my left thumb. Although the needle had accessed the vein and the catheter was in place, the blood was merely pulsing, not flowing. The IV line was gravity fed, otherwise a pump would have been strong enough to move the IV fluid into my vein. 

"I've only had this happen one other time," the nurse said. "It was a big, muscular man with big veins. It just pulsed instead of flowed for him, too!"

I was not big and muscular, but inside my elbow had been this extra large bit of vein that was easy to poke and access. I let the nurse know I was okay with pulling the needle out and poking my other arm which she had to do. There! That was better! 

 

I sat there trying to stick stamps and address labels on thankyou letters while one arm was having to remain almost still, while IV fluid dripped.  

I deleted unnecessary old photos from my gallery.

And, since I forgot to bring my journal, prayed for names as I paged through my contact list, including Connie.

I didn't just pray for her. I called her. She's the lady who goes to my daughter Crystal's church in Missouri who got rid of her cancer in 6 months by simply taking fen ben dazole and using a little frankincense and myrrh and peppermint oil topically. I've called her different times to ask questions.

She lived 2 1/2 years longer when her doctor said she had only 6 months to live.

But now the cancer came back with a vengeance and she doesn't have long to live again.

We chatted like old friends.

Then I called Jonathan's dad, who lost  his brother Wednesday, Jonathan's uncle.

Our lives have been filled with both sad and happy news.

Sad--about people who have just made the crossing like my brother-in-law Kenn's stepmom and Jonathan's uncle George,

and others about to make the crossing like Kezia's mother-in-law RuthAnn Jackman,

or a friend's daughter and pastor's wife both just diagnosed with diabetes.

Or happy news, such as Rose's wedding plans and the miracle God did when Brad Dendler, husband of Sharon who was in my graduating class at AWC, was able to be resucitated when he was found dead of electrocution at 480 volts,

and two days later woke up from sedation, completely fine!

If that isn't a miracle, I'd like to know what is!

Here's a picture of him that my sister found on FB. 

But anyway, last evening it took a long time for the pain to ease in my first arm. It was still hurting significantly when I arrived back home last night, and I could hardly go to sleep. 

Jonathan says I was scared in the night, hollering "Stop! Stop! He's coming after me! Go away in the name of Jesus!"

And at that, Jonathan woke me up, and my imaginary enemy in my dreams disappeared. 

I got up to discover this photo our Tim sent of his log truck in the mountains this morning.  

And this one of Rose and Carrie and Sam after a work day playing games with Tommy, Robbie, and cousin Pearl Morley who flew in to Colorado for a very full week with Rose and Carrie.

Jonathan has been busy working full time now for SIM. Last week he was helping at Martin, repairing an issue up at the eaves in the church and putting up shelving for the Poffs. 

I'm helping Hannah with her school, paying bills, getting thankyous out to many who have contributed to the medical fund SIM set up for us, keeping tabs on what I must do for my cancer protocol each day, preparing meals for the family, and sometimes just trying to survive.

There are times I do feel like I'm just pulsing, not getting anywhere or accomplishing much of value, fighting stubborn temptations to grudge at something or someone,

feeling a bit stuck.

But then there are the times that I sense the flowing of the Spirit through me. 

And I must remember that in the spiritual life, it's not about feeling, but about faith.

At times, something seems to be wrong.

There's unexpected things happen, pain radiating clear to the depths of your heart, and life just pulses for a while.

There doesn't seem to be that flow of unhindered grace and beauty and joy.

You are caught in a current of grief or pain or anxiety or circumstances that are beyond your control.

It's okay to switch gears, to move the IV catheter to the other arm, to compartmentalize something that you can't otherwise process right now, to simply change your mind and look at a situation with a totally opposite perspective. 

I can let the Spirit flow in my heart and life again. I can let go of circumstances and people I can't control. 

I can let peace and joy flow freely--not pulse hopelessly but flow freely and hopefully and patiently and sweetly,

quite unstuck despite everything around me. 

PET scan results and Doctors Call

Monday afternoon I received a call with voices I recognized from the Arizona clinic. It was both doctors on at once, and they had gotten my PET scan results. We were rejoicing together that the PET scan confirmed no sign of the former metastases in my liver, lymph, or anywhere else in my body, just the original tumor spot that still had some small "hot" spots, but with numbers that were low.

 I had been trying to prepare for the worst. (What if???) And the one morning in Arizona last week, I had been thinking about the verse in Romans where it talks about giving our bodies a living sacrifice.

"Living or dead," I said to God, "my body is Yours."

"But," God seemed to reply. "I didn't say for you to offer up a dying sacrifice."

"A living sacrifice," the verse says.

I thought of that, and just like that, the soggy fear left. For me, it seemed, at least for now, God is asking a living sacrifice.

My body is His, to serve Him with, not to serve myself but Him. 

And God has brought healing to much of my body. There is still a ways to go, and the doctors want me to keep getting herceptin now that my lungs are back to normal. 

I felt a little like the kitties above, that Jonathan discovered when he stopped at a fellow missionary's home, soaking in the warmth of the sunshine of encouraging news, while at the same time knowing that I cannot rest on my laurels, but must keep working at the job of completely getting rid of the cancer. 

For now, since the South Dakota clinic has still not heard from from the pharmacy, I must travel every couple weeks to Arizona for a few days at a time to get herceptin, which includes necessary bloodwork, IVs, etc.  

I was feeling bad about all the travel, packing, unpacking, planning travel meals, leaving again and just the hassle, but after unloading on Jonathan's broad shoulders on the phone a bit (he was at ACE hardware buying weather stripping for around the door at mission headquarters) I felt better. I've learned to manage--sort of. Even by myself, which is how it will have to be because of expense and Jonathan obviously has to work.

As I got off the phone, I started to go through our basket of Christmas cards, thinking to have us choose cards every evening worship time to pray for the senders. Didn't I find one I had somehow missed opening! And a $50 bill fell out of it.  I thought how I had just given a $50 bill to Gospel Center in Arizona for letting me stay there last week during my treatments. God gave it right back to me!

 As I checked through the cards again, I found another check! It seemed like God had allowed me to miss a couple checks so that just when I was feeling down about all the travel, stress, packing, and expenses, He would show me that He cared and was providing right on time! There was enough in that check to cover my trip down plus some. Then wouldn’t you know it, during family worship as Hannah reached in to pick a card and sender to pray for, a third check fell out! How on earth did I miss that one,too? Was God creating lost checks out of thin air?

Or letting our children in on the way He was providing? The timing was so special! This was definitely one time it “paid” to pray!  

 

So next weekend, Jonathan already has a ticket for me to fly back to AZ, this time from Sioux Falls, since we'll be in the Sioux Falls area that weekend for a missionary rally and clinic visit. 

I will try to make the best of the week ahead here in SD--even if it is to be bitterly cold!

Happiness in Her Voice

I feel so blessed tonight, this mother who seemed to have children in line waiting to call me! 

Sam wanted to just call and chat, but he wanted to run by me the idea of traveling to Zambia, Africa, this spring, with a medical mission team. Unless a door opens to someway go to Ukraine on a mission or aid trip.

I am as happy with that as if he got some big promotion at work.

And Crystal had tried to call while I was occupied, so I called her back.Happiness was in her voice. She had just attended a service held in the home of one of the families of her church, where the video on a big screen was shown of the Petersons in Africa. She, too, was dreaming of serving once again in Africa someday, remembering how Glenn Gault had told her if she ever wanted to come to Africa, there were opportunities there. I heard the excitement in her voice, an excitement I hadn't heard in a long, long time. 

I think she needs to be a missionary. That's what she really wants.

And then she remembered to tell me that Rose had called her last night. 

"She asked me to be a bridesmaid!" Crystal said. 

She was so happy!

And I was glad for her happiness.

Rose wants teal and brown for western wedding colors, and I found these pearly brown bows on clearance after Christmas, for decorating something at the wedding. Rose wants a simple but beautiful wedding. And clearance items are fine with her!

This same evening, our Danny had talked with Keith Lavery about what age a young man could join the volunteer firemen, etc. 

That makes me happy, too. 

He's the son that is working hard to finish details in our house, build special things, and organize our garage, as well as start paying work tomorrow--helping neighboring ranchers. 

I can't believe this is happening to me--this much joy, this much happiness, this much fulfillment as I watch my children grow, stretch, mature, and reach for new things in God's will.  

I am in awe at the happiness God allowed in my life tonight, and the happiness in the voice of my children as they call to talk.

Autumn in January in Arizona

 Down here in Arizona, it's like autumn instead of winter. 

I'd left snow behind from a week earlier,

snow that filled in our driveway and covered the children's cars.

Down here at Gospel Center in Arizona, the mandarin orange tree is producing lush fruit right in sight of a palm tree. 

Grapefruit are hanging on a new little tree in my yard, just planted a year ago. 

The pastor's wife said I could pick a few mandarins if I wanted.

I'll try to remember before I fly out tomorrow. 

The fig tree is still shedding its huge leaves--as if it were only autumn. 

It's a different world down here, unfamiliar to me, but I am becoming more used to it as I spend time here month after month and watch the changing of the seasons in a new way.

 Something that seems to remain the same, though, is the beautiful Arizona sunsets--at least in the evenings when there are clouds. They are simply out-of-this-world stunning. There was a gorgeous one tonight as I arrived home to Gospel Center after this long day.

Up in South Dakota, Jonathan and Danny have been busy all week working with the Shermans, the Hunts, and a couple native men as they trim windows in the Shermans' parsonage, put in a gas line, and more. It's winter up there, and there's lots of work to do. 

I'm going back tomorrow, but whether it's winter in January in South Dakota or autumn in January in Arizona, I am learning like Paul to say, "I have learned in whatsoever state I am to be content."

Even in Phoenix, God Provides

 It's been a bit of a whirlwind trip--flying down here to AZ Monday, getting labs drawn on Tuesday morning, doctor consultation Wednesday as well as lung x-rays, several IVs on Thursdays, including finally herceptin for the first time in six weeks, since the x-rays showed my lungs almost miraculously back to normal. They had been showing "hyperinflated" a  month ago; hence, the stopping of herceptin for a month.

 

Today after the PET scan,  I hurried back to the clinic to get another Vitamin C IV to chase out the radioactive medication I got for the PET scan. I had eaten an organic banana, blackberries, and organic cottage cheese with flaxseed meal for a quick breakfast at one o'clock in the afternoon since I hadn't eaten any breakfast earlier.  And an hour later, I was still hungry. So I had my salad along, but I had forgotten to include my little jar of homemade dressing. Oh boy! I get to eat salad without dressing again, like a rabbit. 

But no. Just before I started eating my salad, a clinic lunch was brought to the patient next to me, including not just one but two little cartons of cashew milk and dill dressing. The lady insisted that I taste it. I liked it very much and admitted I'd forgotten my dressing!

"Take one!" she urged. "I got two!"

 

It was a little thing, but it meant so  much to me--the way God looks after me. Others might think it happenstance, but I feel God tenderly watching over me, sending a second dressing along at just the right time so that I could not only enjoy my raw salad a little more, but so that He could be praised in the middle of the cold clinic and a lonely day for patients and short-staffed nurses alike. 

A Little Spot of Country in the Big, Big City

Going back to the clinic from my PET/CT scan in Mesa, which is a suburb of Phoenix, I was astonished to see cows by the busy street!

Were my eyes tricking me?

No, right there along a busy, 4-lane street lined with mobile homes, apartment buildings, and businesses was a little citrus orchard snuggled into someone's property. It was right across the street from a big Calvary Baptist Church.

And behind a cattle gate and  barbed wire fence were these cattle of all colors and sizes, including some cute little calves!

I was so charmed by this scene that I had to pull into the street by them to take a picture.

It was like a little spot of joy and gratitude in the middle of a hard time--

 

such as when you are sitting, hungry and a bit weak from fasting before the PET scan, feeling sad and uncertain as radioactive medication pulses through your veins for an hour.

I was thinking about my daughter Rose's joy in starting to plan a wedding, and how instead of joining her joy, I am sitting in an imaging center in Phoenix waiting for a scan that will tell my doctors who-knows-what. 

I'd rather be choosing my mother-of-the-bride dress---and I realized I had an hour to be sad--or to be grateful. Suddenly, I thought, "Well, why not go online on my phone and see what I can come up with for a modest mother-of-the-bride dress?"

 

Suddenly it seemed like the Lord slipped up beside me and whispered that I needed to not be sad.

That He was giving me this delightful event to look forward to and plan for right while I'm sitting waiting for a PET scan. 

Maybe none of the dresses I looked at were quite the right style or color, but it was a fun thing to do, and the hour went by fast.

Then there I am lying still as a fawn inside the yawning tunnel with noises whizzing around, my arms up above my head as I was told to do. 

Not as scary as last time in April, but just uncertain. Airports and clinic and hospital walls are becoming more familiar, the being told what to do and where to go and to disrobe and rerobe and put your arms here or there.

The big city is becoming a little less scary, too, and a little more familiar, a place where I still discover doves and sparrows and cactus wrens...

and lemon trees right near SimonMed Imaging Center. 

It was just such a beautiful sight that I parked my Honda Pilot in the fire lane spot for a moment to take a picture!

When I first arrived here on Monday night, or should I say the wee hours of Tuesday morning, it took me some time to wind down enough to sleep. I was alone again. On purpose I pulled out a mug that had music notes on it, because "the joy of the Lord is my strength." 

Even in Phoenix, God provides. There were happy mugs and my good herb tea.

There was this Christmas card that my hubby gave me a little late for Christmas, but just in time for my trip. I took it with me, a little piece of my hubby to cherish while I am down here alone. I pulled it out while sitting in the clinic, too. I just wanted to hold it and look at it once again, just have it near. It was a card of warm love in a cold clinic. 

Like a little spot of country in the middle of a concrete city like Phoenix.

Rose Is Engaged!

 

I had wondered if it would ever happen to our family--and last week it happened!

Our beautiful Rose got engaged to a fine young man, Tommy Hagerty, who has been dating her for a year and a half.

We've known the family for about six years, and have been good friends most of that time, with their six children and ours getting together at any possible time for Bible studies, games, horseback riding, roping, special events, and more. 

He stood out to me, and he stood out to Rose.

Ever since February of two years ago, they have been serious about each other, beginning to officially date in June of 2022. But they have patiently waited, working hard to prepare financially and in every way for marriage. 

Tommy called Jonathan a couple weeks ago, asking permission to marry our daughter, a step we both greatly appreciated. We don't consider it totally necessary for a young man to ask our permission to marry a daughter if he has already asked permission to date her. But when he has that much respect and courage, his reputation goes up a couple notches in our esteem.

Tommy also asked if he could come up for Christmas and surprise Rose!

Of course, we were delighted! He pulled it off perfectly while we all dutifully kept our mouths shut from letting on anything, although I was trying to clean up extra since company was coming. 

I kept thinking Tommy was going to pop the question--maybe Christmas Eve, maybe Christmas Day. He kept working and helping around the house with butchering, electrical issues, and other projects, and I kept wondering.

He played lots of games with the boys, especially Axis and Allies, and pulled up "Ultimate Cowboy"  and I kept wondering. 

Rose kept working hard, helping sew new curtains for the kitchen and livingroom, as well as sewing a pretty song bird cover for a seat mat for my hard wooden kitchen chair.

With my skinny frame, I need a cushion for sitting on. 

But when Tommy decided to take a late afternoon walk to the river with Rose near sunset, several of us had our suspicions that something was about to happen.

"Do you think he's going to propose?" Hannah asked.

I got Jonathan, who was inside momentarily in between clearing our long, snowy driveway with a borrowed skid steer, to take a couple pictures of the happy couple starting out for the frozen river.

I loved how our Christmas star was the perfect frame through the kitchen window.  

A star of hope, of joy, and of guidance. 

And sure enough, something happened down there! I never did ask yet exactly how it happened, but when they came back, Rose's face was glowing as brightly as a thousand Christmas lights! I didn't dare turn around from washing up dishes before supper, but Rose caught my eye once with a huge grin on her face, and I wondered when they were going to make their announcement. They had to wait till after supper when Jonathan finally returned home after dark after finishing clearing the driveway. When he had finished eating, the two of them stood holding hands in front of the wood stove, and we knew the moment had come. 

It was obvious they were about to say something, so I got the attention of a couple sons in the living room, and Crystal asked, "Do we need to sit down?" promptly sliding onto the bench at the kitchen table. I sat down by Jonathan, and Tommy said something, and then Rose said simply, "We're gonna get married!"

And that is how it happened at the Lucas home three days after Christmas--the beautiful thing that I had wondered if it would ever happen.

And it happened so beautifully, so simply, and so wonderfully.

No restaurant, no roses, and nothing big.

Just a simple walk to White River, and they came back engaged!

Just like Rose and Tommy!

I loved it! 

It sounds like they would like a wedding in May or June, so now we have a lot of happy plans to make!