The Backstory

 I have no indications that I would have ever developed breast cancer.

I have never smoked.

Used birth control pills in the 70's for only six years.

I have never drank alcohol. (Thank you parents.)

I never had an abortion. (Controversial, I know)

I never worked in a toxic environment.

I have eaten a whole food diet and eaten clean for seven years.

I drink copious amounts of water daily.

I use non alum deodorant since the warnings came out.

My dabble in 'social' drugs lasted only a few years in the 70's

I recently replaced a bottle of Tylenol that had expired in 2014, so it's rare for me to partake in medications.

I sleep a solid eight hours most nights since menopause.

In short, I am the LEAST candidate for cancer according to health standards and recommendations.

So why? Why did my careful utilization of my life, curve off the plan? Was it a random, crazy run of bad luck? Was God's wrath upon me? Am I being cursed for the judgmental life I lead? Is God a punisher, ready to walk away from me? Is He an unfair God? Why me?

No, no and NO!

My God, my LORD is a Sovereign God. He is over all and in all, whether we like it or not. He is Creator, Healer, Shepherd, a God of order, not chaos. When the diagnosis hit my brain, my thought was, 'okay LORD. I see. You have this in my life. I pray you use it. Use it for Your glory. Use it for Your mighty work. Use me. I have this one life to live and I'd rather live it for Your work than for any other reason. 

Do you think this is a foolish rant of a sick, delusional old lady? Are you ready to see all that I'm learning in this amazing journey my LORD has placed me on? The days where my thoughts drifted toward despair, then inexplicably, He sends a messenger. He speaks to me in His Word. He sends a bluebird. He sends a text with a verse. He awakens my senses because He knows I see Him there. He sends a Shepherd in the form of a breast cancer survivor. Countless stories of His provision and I'm only into this journey four months! And you know what the kicker is in all this? This cancer could consume me and that would be okay too! For I know where I'm headed and that has been prepared for me before I was born. The moment I was reborn, it was sealed. Now I just want to follow Him while I'm here, even if it's where I thought I'd never go.

Stay tuned for more works of His presence, provision and power.

(ps. The photo above is an antique item that has been passed back and forth between my Kindred Spirit Friend during times of distress in our lives. I'm assuming that she will allow me to keep it for now.😉 It makes me smile.)

Here We Go

 It's been a minute.

Years have passed since I last appeared on this forum.  The things that have been documented on this somewhat archaic platform are precious to me and I was glad to share them. My life in a small town, the newness of grandmotherhood and all the fun of creating and sharing my craft, was covered on this site for years.

Things have changed a bit.

I am entering my 70th year. I have attained 50 years of marriage to my best friend. I am on the cusp of celebrating the arrival of my 12th grandchild. I have lived in the big city of Indianapolis for six and a half years. I have enjoyed watching my grown up children become solid adults with beautiful families. There have been highs and lows, troubles and joys but through it all, I have my Jesus. I have life now and eternal.

And I have breast cancer.

I found out while checking my phone on my My Chart Page. I was on my way to my grandson's soccer game, so it came into my head but got pushed aside while I attended his game and chatted with my son and his wife. Light things. Just those, well, now; that's something, kind of talk. I shared with my children as soon as I received the news and then we all processed it. We still are processing. Processing as each new surgery and each new testing. It's been a part of my life for four months now and it's as startling today as it was then. But not impossible and not overwhelming. Because, you see, I have my Jesus.

These blog posts shall be the journey. Some of you will be interested. Some will be scared for me. Some will ignore it but there are those that might wonder how I'm doing and how Jesus is revealing Himself to me through it all. It is all about Him you know. I'm old enough to realize that you don't get through this thing called life without something! And if you are walking with my Jesus, you will see just how He works in situations like this  and how you can be a part of this wondrous thing called hope that He provides. 

I start chemo this week. There will be times where I will be absent from all the ramifications that chemo brings, but on the days that I can, I will share with you all that I'm learning so that you too, can have hope. Maybe not for a perfect cure but for grace in the journey and hope for eternity. 

Please know that I'm not archiving this for any pity or sadness but only for God's glory. He wants me to share all that He is teaching me and I am humbled to be called upon to do this.

I appreciate and welcome any and all prayers for me during this time. Let me know how I can pray for you and your concerns and trials. I have to not be consumed with me at this time so I would be honored to pray for you.

Ready? 

Here we go...

House Sounds

A house spoke to me last night.
At first I thought that it was the smell of the summer night or the cicada serenading, that brought me to such a receptive state that is needed when listening to the sounds of life.

We are vaguely familiar, this house and I,  but yet she wanted to share with me.
It seemed she had so much to say and needed to spill it all out to me because she knew I was interested.

So many things she shared with the lifts of excitement and heaviness of grief.  Childhood giddiness  and elderly woes- it all came out...

This house will celebrate it's fortieth year this summer.  I clearly remember it being built and the excitement of watching it unfold as each crossbeam structure lifted into place and rooms became clear.  I remember Move In day and all the joyous chaos that it brought. But there was so much more that the house had to recount.

The House stated that many children tromped up and down the stairs.  Sometimes the cry of a newborn in the night made the house sigh but how she enjoyed the giggles. She told of merry holidays and the aroma of many menus.  The House wondered at her strength when groups of people would gather, warmed by her hearth and welcomed by tables laden with food.  There were so many words spoken, much laughter and the inevitable tears when a family of seven dwell together.

This night, the House wanted to share it's heart.  She gave me a glimpse of every day life, some of which I was familiar.  I do remember when babies came home from the hospital to this home.  I do remember family gatherings.  I do remember remodels and updates.  The normal stuff of life this house, this night, she let me feel.

But then, she reminded me of the Sad Day.  She spoke of the time when grieving came in torrents and silence.  When the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and unalterable change, came to her.  The horrible day when the house stopped it's normal function and it paused as it's family, as it knew and loved and protected, would be forever changed as it's owner left this earth to his eternal house.

That day had a profound affect on the house and all who entered it in the days and weeks and now years to come. No amount of tears seemed to compensate the loss.  The weeping and pacing and comforting absorbed into the very wood of the home and remains to this very day.

But the House wanted to remind me to keep remembering the joys that made up the majority of the forty years that the house let them call her home.  She told me clearly that so much life took place within her walls, that it was hardly fair to draw such attention to the Sad Day.  Still, she needed to speak of it, needed to make sure we knew how much it took out of her and those she called family.  She wanted me to feel the void.

So, I laid in a bedroom of some child, teenager, young adult, who dwelt there for years, reflecting the sounds, smells, sights of a house well lived in and viewed, ever so briefly, the silent days when grief was born at the speaking of a single word: Cancer.

I drifted off to a dream filled sleep, accompanied by the history of the house and it's story, the sounds of summer and the comfort of family.

Bless and keep all of us as we expose our homes and our hearts to this thing called life...

P31 March for Humility

 



I have a thought.

I am going to start a Virtual March for Humility; Proverbs 31 Style.
What with all the marching that's been going on of late, I believe I can get my idea to fit in nicely.

There will be no traveling, no hotel reservations or for that matter, you might as well stay in your jammies.  Agoraphobics will not be excluded since they can accomplish this march in the safety of their own home.  In fact, everyone, from sexual orientation, race, gender and political leanings can join in.  No hats required either.


Here's what's involved:

We shall take all the biblical admonitions regarding womanhood, all the downright practicalities of Proverbs 31, and march it right into our hearts and see what we can do with it in our day to day.  See what we can do to accomplish a life modeled on peace, confidence, strength, humility, respect, hard work and family care.

Let us assume that you have read and maybe reread Proverbs 31.  It's the last Proverb in that particular book.  Saving the best for last, let us say.  Before you sign on to the P31 March for Humility, let me zip through some of the principles that we will march in our hearts for:

Verse one shows us that a king's mother taught him about women and which ones could be detrimental to his reign.
Verse two through seven, lets us know that to get drunk might get you in trouble with the press.  Keep the heavy stuff for those that really need consoling, like the dying.

Verses six through nine has been a driving force in much of my ministry and just in general moral living:  Speak for those that can't.  Take care of the poor and helpless.  Plead justice for all.

Ten through the end gives us some guidelines for being a wife and mother.  In general, womanhood.
What can we learn from these verses?
This:

A great wife is more valuable than anything else.  Beyond riches.
If she is trustworthy, she will enrich others.
She will bring others no harm in any way.  Always.
She's busy.
She works hard and long.
She owns a business and runs it with dedication.
She has helpers and treats them well.
She invests and reaps the rewards of that.
With her talents, she helps care for the needs of others.
She is no dowdy chick.  She dresses well.
She is respectable and makes sure that her husband is respected by her actions.
She sells things she makes.
She is fearless.
She is confident.
People listen to her because she has a proven record of wisdom and kindness.
She makes sure the cat is fed and the dog is up to date on his shots.
She knows when it's her turn to speak at her children's class and when to make cookies for the Christmas party.
Without prompting, her kids and husband, sing her praises.  They really like her.
She will grow old gracefully and will not embarrass her family by not.
At her funeral, the lines will be long and their will be many testimonies of her amazingness

Not too much to ask, right?
Simple.  Be kind.  Treat others like you want to be treated.  Know we will have differences and get over it.  Pray for others in so doing, you keep from getting overly consumed with your own concerns.
Be respectful to everyone, including yourself.

Can your heart and spirit march to the rhythm of the good sense mentioned in this dear chapter of this Great Book?  If so, then do this.  Watch how you respond to the next controversial thing that pops up in your news feed. Heck, for some of you, this post could be a pot stirrer. How does it make you feel?  How does it make you want to react?  Search out our hero, Proverbs 31 Woman, and see how this lady would respond.  Chances are, if you wish to emulate this well respected woman, you might reflect just a bit longer, sieve your thoughts another moment and speak as if your daughter was hanging on to every word.  Because she is.

We have a very brief time on this earth, relatively speaking.  Let's make it kindly count in our little square.

Thirdsie Launches

It never ceases to amaze me how unique each person is.
It never ceases to continually amaze me how different children born forth from the same womb can be.
I shall always rejoice in the individual imprint that each child possesses.

That said, let me relay a Story of Individuality of one of my progeny.

My thirdsie, my younger son of two, third of four, has always had a distinctive mark upon him.
He was the one that challenged my patience as a mother, the one whose bent was a bit left of center.  He was the one that wrote his own script amongst his siblings and caused me to shrug my shoulders when others would ask questions as to his own drummer kind of thinking.

It took me awhile to adjust to his own way but once this was accepted by his father and I, we grew to appreciate and enjoy his unique way.

This son eschewed the usual way.  Not one to enjoy 'normal' childhood activities, I remember distinctly the day that I gave up on Little League and organized sports in general.  He joined teams in junior high merely because his brother was involved in the same team and he was at an age where that was important.  I know he would have gotten along quite nicely without the experience however.  YS would beg me to remove him from AWANA and Sunday School.  He would point out, rather accurately, that they were places of noise, i and organization that he, as a matter of fact, did not need.  After informing him that he would have to attend our adult Sunday School class, sitting absolutely quiet without the entertainment of drawing or match box cars, he seemed rather pleased.  Turns out, he enjoyed our class and was often raising his hand, answering questions, usually accurately.  I knew then that his level of intellect might someday challenge my own and it looked like it might happen soon.  He stood by as a toddler, listening to the home school instruction of his two older sibs while seemingly playing with the assorted super hero, G I Joe kinda figures.  To my amazement, when the day came to begin him on phonics and number assignments, he was able to zoom ahead as he had heard it before and equipped with an audio modality, he was already entrenched in the basics.


This interesting young boy spent lots of hours reading encyclopedias.  A fount of trivia knowledge began to build up and soon his conversations could broach the span of generations, completely able to speak well with most age groups.  As a teeny guy, he would carry a large copy of Wind in the Willows around with him, stopping and perusing the book for hours.  His love a books grew and expanded and currently the walls of  his tiny cottage are covered in books.

Once he left us for college, we knew that he would probably experience it differently that others. This is a fearful and wonderful thing.  We knew his bent could border on the dangerous so we spent many an hour praying for God's protective hand upon him. Once graduation was completed, he parked himself nearby while he considered his future.  We observed him contemplate several different options and plans, all while keeping him close and relatively comfortable.

Over the last seven years as he contemplated, we had the pleasure of sharing his life as an young adult.  We have shared many meals, long walks, evenings in the garden, watching the most interesting movies and sharing our ideologies and philosophies and political leanings  Respectful and smart, he knew not to be forward about our differences since a home cooked meal and laundry service is something always handy to have near by.  Many times I knew I was being played but it didn't really matter much - his company is just that lovely.

The time has come.  YS has accepted a teaching job in another town and his time of launching has arrived.

It was his slow revelation of something that I have seen in him for a long time.  Even when he chose a non teaching degree, I knew in my heart of hearts, that it wouldn't be long before he would see what he was designed to do.  His enormous heart and generous spirit coupled with a vast knowledge encased in his no nonsense frame, has prepared him for the task of mentoring, teaching and caring for high school students in the important subject of literature. Unlocking doors of the mind and heart by teaching them the importance of reading and writing, will aid beyond the year that he will have them in his care.

As a mama of a nearly thirty year old man, I am over the moon that his time has come.  As merely a mama who has had the most delightful companion/son so nearby, I would be a liar if I denied that he will be sorely missed.

I can only imagine where this journey will take him.  He shall never get rich as a teacher, but I believe the richness will be in the hearts of the children that he inspires with his heart and his knowledge.  Years from now, I can picture his students referring to sophomore year English, and that eclectic, fun (but stern) teacher that they had in Mr. Cory.

And my heart shall be blessed....

The Tenacity of Quilts

In the early 80's, God provided for this Young Mama, a neighbor, a confidant, a helper, a friend in the shape of an older mama, (just two years older than I am now), to come along side me to help me adjust to being away from my family for the first time.  Due to a job change, my young family packed up and moved three hours north from my home town.  I had a three year old and a nine month old in tow and felt lost, discombobulated and overwhelmed.  At the exact same time, my neighbor had just retired and was wondering how to fill her days.

My, my.  Did we ever cover that nagging question!

This needy young mom clenched onto her loving, caring ways with a firm grip.

This Wonderful Woman babysat my children, taught me how to paint on china, shared her vast life learned wisdom and encouraged my creativity.  I was known to ask her over for supper and have her bring the main course.  And she did with a great deal of entertainment and enjoyment. 

 

 Wonderful Woman had a plethora of friends that she introduced us to as we entangled ourselves into her life.
We were embraced readily as her buds could see what a blessing our rag tag group was to her.

 One friend in particular was an excellent crafter.  She could fashion huge wool rugs out of strips of old coats.  She could quilt like no other.  And she promised to share these crafts with me.  A stroke robbed her of much of her capabilities and as dementia took over her life, my opportunity to learn from a master evaporated.
However.
Before she met her devastating fate, she handed off to me, a legacy of her talent.
As a young woman in the 1930's, she pieced a quilt top and like most of us quilters, she packed it away, 'for another time'.
Why she deemed me worthy to complete this quilt, I have no idea but I am ever so glad she did.

 My skills were undeveloped at that time so I folded it carefully and refolded it on occasion, plotting and planning for the day that I would complete it.  Pregnant with my fourth child in 1987, I decided to attempt the quilt.  I began adding appliqued hearts to the white spaces because my fourth child was destined to be a Valentine's baby.
I probably got through two rows of hearts when my Baby Girl arrived and the reality of caring for four children prompted me to, once again, fold up the quilt and store it for another time.

 Fast forward to 2012 and my Baby Girl announced the arrival of her second child, a daughter.  With her first child, she had a clear plan of a quilt  that she wanted her firstborn to possess from her Mimi.  But the second one came before the second birthday of the first and quilt planning was less important to a very busy young mama.
Then I remembered the very vintage quilt tucked away in my stash and my memory.
I showed Baby Girl the unfinished attempt at the heart applique that I attempted for her and she liked it.  She acquired fabric scraps from her mother in law's fabric stash from her grandmother and added some checked flannel from BG's grandfather's pajamas, and we were set to begin. 

Last fall, as we awaited Baby Girl #2, I cut and sewed (enlisting the help of Most Loving Friend during a weekend visit) and prepared this long ago quilt.  Kindred Spirit friend donated fabric to me while on a visit last summer, that would work perfectly as the backing.  I added some free form black stitched embroidery to the borders, to make it more me.  I embroidered flowers, pumpkins, swirls and leaves and her lovely name, Della James, as we traveled this past October to Kansas City to visit their new location.  The heavy weight of the near completed quilt provided close quarters in the front seat of the car as we journeyed the many miles to their new home.
There was just enough fabric from the stash to complete the bindings on this quilt.
I pieced what I could salvage, determine to use the memorable fabric to it's fullest.
Then, this week, this holiday week, I worked on hand stitching all the bindings to finalize this long awaited project.
Last night, Thanksgiving Evening, seated amongst my dear ones, in front of the fire, I completed this quilt, started over 80 years ago by a woman who entrusted me to the task.

Quilters, keep an eye to legacy when creating a quilt.  Quilters, understand that your talent has merit and the memories created with a quilt is worthy.  Remember to entrust others to projects that will be seen to fruition....someday... and that your story will be told years from when you started your project and that is okay.

Quilts are stories in fabric and quilters weave the story.
See to it that you find or create your story for yourself and your family.

A Most Serendipitous Birthday

If you have been patiently following this blog, you might notice that I am quite enthralled with the kismetian aspect of life.  I enjoy those 'chance occurences', those 'coincidental oddities', those 'only we could have this happen to' moments.

And this past birthday has proven, once again, that my little family certainly flies close together while we are miles apart.

Many years ago, my sisters and I would laugh, long distance, about how we managed to send our parents the same or very similar card for some important occasion.  We often sent each other the same cards for holidays.  Fun, family stuff.

But my little gang really did it this time.

 This past summer, during one of our rare visits as a group, Eldest/Administrator and Baby Girl and I, stumbled upon a most delightful booth at our local Farmer's Market.  Pam Voorhies  http://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/LittleRedPorch has put together a 'little' business of making signs with all sorts of heartfelt, whimsical sayings on them, expertly combining colors and fonts to please the eye and to decorate your abode.   Needless to say, E/A, BG and I were smitten.  E/A found a sign perfect for her Hazel Jane's bedroom and I. Found. Mine.

Those that know me, know my love for my porch.  ALL of my porches from each stage of my married life.

  I plan each winter as to the layout of each year's porch, that important summer room. I have utilized the tiniest of screened in porches, rejoiced in a windowed in porch in my first married apartment and now glory in my broad eaved veranda that has been our seasonal perch for fifteen summers now.

Life slows down on the porch. 

 You are out there for only one reason: to relax.  There are no dishes to do on the porch.  There are no bathrooms to clean on the porch.  There are only cooling breezes, books and magazines to read and people to draw into this lovely.

 The conversations that have taken place on my porch, go deeper than most.  Secrets are shared, hearts are exposed and burdens are lifted.  Magical.  Spiritual.

At the time of the discovery of  Little Red Porch and it's goodness, I could not justify the expense for such a treat that I really didn't know where it would even go in my already overladen walls.  And E/A so wanted a sign as well.  I sighed, put my little covetousness on the shelf and went on my way.

But I kept thinking about the porch sign.

  Every week at Farmer's Market, I visited 'my' sign.  One week, I saw where she had come up with another one that stated, 'Life is Better on the Farm'.  PERFECT for BG's in laws.  I quickly messaged BG and her MIL and let them know that they had to get that sign toot sweet.  And they did.  And I was just the teensiest bit jealous at their good fortune.

Several times, I visited LRP's etsy and several times I was tempted.  But Hubby and I are on limited income these days since Retirement visited our home.  So I would acquiesce.

Then one day, I had a brilliant idea.  As you know, my family has a Code Word that is just for us.  LYSMICETY will show up on our notes, cards and banners. (http://sonowiknow.blogspot.com/2012/02/lysmicety.html ) Love You So Much I Can't Even Tell You is our slogan, our motto, our family solidarity.  I thought it was highly appropriate, for Christmas, to tell each of them and their families in solid, colorful, wood.  Something that will survive the years and remind them each of their importance in this family.  I could envision cousins being comforted in knowing that they belonged to each other as they visited each other's homes...

Quick as a bunny, I sent LRP and the lovely Pam a message and the process began.  I told her I was in no hurry as Christmas was many weeks away.

MEANWHILE,
 in lands far away, some Birthday Gift Planning was taking place, unbeknownst to me.

The time came when the signs were dry and ready to be picked up at Pam's Little Red Porch in a little town nearby.  I looked at my burgeoning schedule and tried to figure out how to pick up all of the signs in a timely manner.  (I do not drive and thus the arrangements.)

LRP contacted me that she was going to be headed my way and would I prefer to just meet her at the local MickyD's to make the exchange of goods and services.  I was gleeful at the ease of it and the prospect of viewing the ordered signs.

Halloween Night came with a chill, so Hubby and I decided to kindle the fireplace so that we could roast hot dogs for supper as we answered the door to the ghoulies and ghosties of Halloween.  We informed Youngest Son that this was commencing in the Big House and he could not resist a good inside weinie roast with the prospect of viewing costumed little ones at our door.

In the course of our fireside chat, I mentioned that I had an early morning meeting at McDonalds.  YS was very intrigued as to the reason: 1 Why  I would have an early morning meeting.  2.  That it would be at McDonalds.  I noticed that for a fireside chat, he was awfully interested in his cell phone, but in this day and age, it's not terribly unexpected.  I also couldn't help but notice that he asked me Three Times why I was going to McDonalds at 9am.

Being the kind of mother that I am, I replied to his queries, 'None of your business.'

When I refused to tell his nosy self, he responded to me (after much consulting to his cell screen, communicating with E/A, that I really needed to tell him since HE had a 9am meeting at McDonalds as well......

The roar of laughter that emitted from me was epic.
I could not believe the coincidence regarding the whole situation.
I could not believe that two orders headed to the same house without any pre planning, landed at the same early morning drop off by the same innocent artist who HAD NO IDEA THE TWO ORDERS WERE IN THE LEAST CONNECTED! 

What fun it was to pick up the orders and have a good giggle with Pam as to her unsuspecting complicity!
What fun to see my children ban together to get their poor mama the sign that she kept referring to and whining over!
What fun to see what the whole scenario means to us!
What fun to see O'Henry sacrificial giving in action!
What fun to now have my beloved sign on my wall and all the fun filled meaning that it has to me!

Thank you Pam at Little Red Porch for your talent and time!

Thank you, dear children, for making your mama's 60th memorable and sweet - you all are the best....

(ps.  Baby Girl's birthday card came in the mail today - compare it to E/A's...Similiar?  I think so....Love. It.)