Hallway of Hope

I mentioned in my recent post that we are faced with a new "normal" in our family: my husband has cancer. It's a slow-growing, rare form of cancer with no real cure, however there is a chemo cocktail in clinical trial form which promises to manage, and possibly even minimize some of the tumors in his body.

Daunting, I know. However, after tons of research, multiple consultations with doctors and cancer center department specialists, we are cautiously optimistic. We don't have many choices, actually. And so we need to be confident with our decision. Or do we?

My confidence comes from my faith. Confidence is not from the medical decision itself; it's in the fact that I know God is there, all the time, no matter what. I have been focused on a phrase in Phillipians 4 about God's peace. It's God's peace, which is so great I cannot understand it, that guards my heart and mind. Not my peace. Heck, I cannot create a sense of peace about any of these issues. Instead, I simply hold on to hope with a new start each day.

Two full months lapsed between the time of his diagnosis and his first day of treatment. Two months of waiting. With hope. Two months of planning. With hope. Two months of getting ready to get started in his fight with cancer. With hope.

My husband was examined; blood was drawn; papers were processed, and the first step of his actual treatment was prepared, which was in the form of a shot. He was escorted to the hallway where his medicine would be administered chair-side, in a special chair reserved for him. When I walked to the entrance of that hallway, I gasped. There were at least a dozen other patients sitting there, lining both sides of the hallway, receiving their medication, too. All shapes, sizes and ages of people. The unspoken common theme: we were all dealing with cancer. Funny how we all become the same, then. I now call that place the Hallway of Hope. And together we all continue to fight this thing called cancer. With hope.

Barstool, Barbeque or Church Pew?

There’s a local bar in my neighborhood that is directly across the street from a church; I pass it every week when attending my own church which is a bit further down the same road. I recall one day several years ago when my young daughter and I waited in traffic and watched as the people left their church to walk across the street to get to their cars which were parked in the lot behind the bar. She didn’t realize the parking lot was there and asked: “Why does everyone leave church and go to that bar afterwards?” I laughed. Ohhh, so many responses to that one. Instead, I acted responsibly and explained that there was a parking lot there and the people were going to their cars, not the bar.

Some thoughts I read recently on the local bar from Chuck Swindoll’s book, “Encourage Me”:
“The neighborhood bar is possibly the best counterfeit there is to the fellowship Christ wants to give to His church. It’s an imitation, dispensing liquor instead of grace, escape rather than reality, but it is a permissive, accepting, and inclusive fellowship. It is unshockable. It is democratic. You can tell people secrets and they usually don’t tell others or even want to. The bar flourished not because most people are alcoholics, but because God has put into the human heart the desire to know and be known, to love and be loved, and so many seek a counterfeit at the price of a few beers.”

I am reminded of the need for fellowship, bonding, being known and being loved as we near the first holiday event of this summer—Memorial Day weekend. It brings to mind the concept of remembering those who serve our country, but it is also about gatherings, whether they be at the barbeque, the bar or church. Why do we get together? We simply want and need each other—to know and be known, to love and be loved. The gatherings we have in our churches are breathtakingly beautiful when the connections made there are safe, accepting and inclusive. Aware of my bias, I attend my own church, Daybreak Community Church (www.enjoydaybreak.com) because I know these types of connections can be made there. Our church has always worked towards being this type of environment which means more to me than the building or the organ music—because true fellowship and connecting can heal and bring hope in our otherwise busy, crazy world.

Tip of the week:
It’s finally sunny---and taking our workouts outside can be a welcome change. When I enjoy my workouts outside, whether it is to play some tennis or go for a walk, I get a double-dose: sunshine and sweat—a perfect combination!