beauty...having qualities that delight the senses, especially the sense of sight, having beauty; delighting the senses or mind...definitely not me. no...i'm not full of beauty, but he tells me i am. every single day of our lives together, he's told me that i am beautiful...even when i know i'm not, when i know the inside of me doesn't match up with the outside of me, when i'm broken inside and unlovely...when i can't even look at myself in the mirror. he sees past the countless number of bruises on my body from failed needle sticks...my last visit to the emergency room. his eyes don't focus on the ugly, angry red burns from radiation...he chooses not to see the massive, screaming scars across my chest...instead, he looks me right in the eyes and says, "do you know you're beautiful?" he does this several times a day and each time he asks me the question, i always say, "no," as i hold my head down in shame. what does he see that i don't? sometimes i think he sees straight into my soul...his gentle hand holding my chin steady as my lip quivers and tears stream down my face. he's seen my pain, he's seen my hurt, he's wiped away my tears. i am so touched that he chooses not to see only the outside of me, but the inside of me that is wounded, too. my heart is covered with scars that have healed over from past hurts, rejections, and pain...though they are healed over, they are still there...etched permanent reminders. i don't deserve such love...he is so giving, so kind, so loyal, so tender, but i am so thankful that he's mine. he loves me unconditionally, always. even though he knows the real me, the one who is often unlovely, unlovable, unacceptable...he loves me anyway. i don't even remember when he started to tell me i was beautiful...it must have been even before we were married but this i do know, he's never let one day slip by without reminding me...not...one...day. hearing something thousands of times doesn't make it believeable, but oh, how i want to believe...maybe one day, i'll be able to see what he sees. maybe one day, my heart will be completely whole and all the scars will be erased....forever. maybe one day, when he takes my face in his big, manly, hands and forces my eyes to catch his, i'll hear his words, "do you know you're beautiful?" and i'll be able to finally say, "yes...yes, i know....yes i believe...yes...yes...YES!" maybe, just maybe that day will come...i am hoping it will because i desperately want it. i want to know that i am full of beauty inside and out. i want to be able to see what he sees and i want to believe...
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
Friday, October 10, 2014
Thursday, October 9, 2014
On death and dying
Yesterday I received a phone call from the Newnan Times Herald asking to do a phone interview with me on my struggle with Breast Cancer. For over an hour, I listened as the journalist asked me one question after another. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was a young man in his late 20's or early 30's. Each question he asked allowed me to share my story. As I was speaking, I could tell he was quickly jotting down notes because I could hear the distinct sound of pen set to paper. I tried to speak a little slower so he wouldn't have to struggle to write so fast.
I was honored that the journalist wanted to include my story in the series for October. October is Breast Cancer awareness month and the paper was trying to include true life accounts of women going through different phases of treatment. I think I shocked the young journalist when I told him I didn't like the way celebrities glamorized Breast Cancer and I referred to the recent People magazine cover done by Joan Lunden. I'll be curious to see whether or not that comment makes it into print.
As the interview was winding down, I couldn't help but think of the people I've known in my life who have succumbed to one form of cancer or another. Sweet people who struggled valiantly. Christians who chose to use their faith as their primary method of fighting. Some of the bravest women I know include my Great Aunt Myra and my grandmother. Both of these ladies died from brain cancer. Then there are two other women I was honored to know, Rachael Ross and Debbie Jackson. Both of those women were fairly young when diagnosed. Both of them fought hard to live. Both of them carried their faith with them on each step of their journey. Both of them died a painful death.
All over the Internet and in the news has been the story of another young woman, Brittany Maynard. A 29 year old woman dying of brain cancer who plans to take a pill given to her by her doctors as she wants to choose her own death and avoid hospice and the suffering her brain-tumor cancer may entail — Her story-gone-viral speaks of her plan to swallow the pill and choose death on her own terms in her own bedroom with her husband beside her and her favorite music playing in the background. Her story is raw — and she has all our love and prayers…. Before she dies by assisted suicide, Brittany states that she wants to use the rest of her time on earth to lobby for every American to have access to assisted suicide services.
That story greatly disturbed me. I wondered, when I read it, whether or not she was a Christian. I think she probably was not. How can someone who has faith in a loving, kind, and merciful God usurp His authority over her own life? How can she not trust that He has a plan for her as she goes through this trial? And even if He chooses not to heal her, why can't she trust Him to carry her through the valley of the shadow of death?
After I read Brittany's story, I read another story. A story that spoke to my heart. A sister in Christ was so moved by Brittany's lack of hope and direction that she chose to reach out to her through her own painful journey with cancer. This story is of Kara Tippetts. Kara is dying, too. Read the email she wrote to Brittany:
"Suffering is not the absence of goodness, it is not the absence of beauty, but perhaps it can be the place where true beauty can be known.
In your choosing your own death, you are robbing those that love you with the such tenderness, the opportunity of meeting you in your last moments and extending you love in your last breaths.
As I sat on the bed of my young daughter praying for you, I wondered over the impossibility of understanding that one day the story of my young daughter will be made beautiful in her living because she witnessed my dying.
That last kiss, that last warm touch, that last breath, matters — but it was never intended for us to decide when that last breath is breathed.
Knowing Jesus, knowing that He understands my hard goodbye, He walks with me in my dying. My heart longs for you to know Him in your dying. Because in His dying, He protected my living. My living beyond this place.
You have been told a lie. A horrible lie, that your dying will not be beautiful. That the suffering will be too great.
Today my oncologist and I spoke of your dying, of my dying, and of the beautiful partnership I have with my doctors in carrying me to my last moments with gentle care. For two thousand years doctors have lived beside the beautiful stream of protecting life and lovingly meeting patients in their dying with grace.
The doctor that prescribed you that pill you carry with you that will hasten your last breath has walked away from the Hippocratic oath that says, “first, do no harm.” He or she has walked away from the oath that has protected life and the beautiful dying we are granted. The doctors agreeing to such medicine are walking away from the beautiful protection of the Hippocratic oath.
There are also people who are speaking in ugly tones that make those of us who believe in Jesus seem unsafe, unkind, or unloving. Will you forgive us for the voices that feel like they are screaming at you from a heart that isn’t loving.
But in my whispering, pleading, loving voice dear heart- will you hear my heart ask you, beg you, plead with you — not to take that pill. Yes, your dying will be hard, but it will not be without beauty
More importantly, will you hear from my heart that Jesus loves you. He loves you. He loves you. He died an awful death upon a cross so that you would know Him today that we would no longer live separate from Him and in our death. He died and His death happened, it is not simply a story.
He died and He overcame death three days later, and in that overcoming of death He overcame the death you and I are facing in our cancer. He longs to know you, to shepherd you in your dying, and to give you life and give you life abundant- eternal life.
For everyone living knowing death is eminent- that we all will one day face this it – the question that is most important. Who is this Jesus, and what does He have to do with my dying? Please do not take that pill before you ask yourself that question.
It’s a question we all must ask, as we are all dying.
I recently wrote a book, The Hardest Peace, and I also blog about my journey of my living and my journey towards my last breath. It is not simply a story of dying of cancer, but of living this breath. It’s a book for each of us that has breath still to breath, to embrace our living, and to look upon our dying with grace. Living in BIG LOVE and meeting my end in love. Stunning, important, love.
But more than my book, I would jump on a plane tomorrow to meet you and share the beautiful brokenness of my story and meet you in yours if you would ever consider having me.
I pray my words reach you.
I pray they reach the multitudes that are looking at your story and believing the lie that suffering is a mistake, that dying isn’t to be braved, that choosing our death is the courageous story.
No – hastening death was never what God intended.
But in our dying, He does meet us with His beautiful grace.
My heart hurts that they have decided to swim from the shores of grace that it protected in our living and dying.
I get to partner with my doctor in my dying, and it’s going to be a beautiful and painful journey for us all.
But, hear me — it is not a mistake —
beauty will meet us in that last breath."
Do you see the different perspectives? Brittany has no hope. She thinks she's making a wise decision, planning her own death, taking matters into her own hands. She wants to be in control on the last days of her life. She's chosen exactly how and when and where she wants to leave this earth. Kara, on the other hand, has chosen to take one moment at a time. To trust God every step of the way even when the way is unclear...and in her trusting, she has peace...she has hope...she knows her Savior loves her and wants the best for her...even if that means dying.
I hung up the phone from the interview and went into the living room to talk with my husband. I told him I didn't know how I really felt about the notoriety I'd receive from the newspaper article when it was published. Yes, it was an honor to be asked to share my story and hopefully, the journalist will include the statements I made on my faith. I want others to know that I, like Kara Tippetts, am choosing to trust God with each step of my journey and no, the steps aren't easy. They are steep, and hard, and burdensome...but I choose to trust. Unlike Brittany Maynard, I am choosing to continue on with my battle. I would never presume to know God's will for me by planning to take my own life.
I can understand Brittany's desperation. I can understand that given her prognosis, of terminal stage 4 brain cancer, that things seem bleak...but on the other hand, I know the power of my God! I have seen Him completely heal and I have seen Him allow people to die. His will is His alone. His ways are not our ways and if Brittany could understand that, I'm sure her story would be very different.
In the days ahead, I will be praying specifically for Brittany. I will be asking God to become so real in her life that she can't help but know Him personally. I will be praying for her to make a radical change in her life and to cancel her plans of taking her own life. I will be asking God to give her a clear understanding of His plan for her. If He so chooses, God could completely, in an instant, heal her body and remove every speck of cancer from her life. I have faith to believe this because I know God's Word to be true. I am thankful that I don't have to walk in darkness, as Brittany does. My God is bigger than my cancer and I am so very grateful that He is!
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
I was honored that the journalist wanted to include my story in the series for October. October is Breast Cancer awareness month and the paper was trying to include true life accounts of women going through different phases of treatment. I think I shocked the young journalist when I told him I didn't like the way celebrities glamorized Breast Cancer and I referred to the recent People magazine cover done by Joan Lunden. I'll be curious to see whether or not that comment makes it into print.
As the interview was winding down, I couldn't help but think of the people I've known in my life who have succumbed to one form of cancer or another. Sweet people who struggled valiantly. Christians who chose to use their faith as their primary method of fighting. Some of the bravest women I know include my Great Aunt Myra and my grandmother. Both of these ladies died from brain cancer. Then there are two other women I was honored to know, Rachael Ross and Debbie Jackson. Both of those women were fairly young when diagnosed. Both of them fought hard to live. Both of them carried their faith with them on each step of their journey. Both of them died a painful death.
All over the Internet and in the news has been the story of another young woman, Brittany Maynard. A 29 year old woman dying of brain cancer who plans to take a pill given to her by her doctors as she wants to choose her own death and avoid hospice and the suffering her brain-tumor cancer may entail — Her story-gone-viral speaks of her plan to swallow the pill and choose death on her own terms in her own bedroom with her husband beside her and her favorite music playing in the background. Her story is raw — and she has all our love and prayers…. Before she dies by assisted suicide, Brittany states that she wants to use the rest of her time on earth to lobby for every American to have access to assisted suicide services.
That story greatly disturbed me. I wondered, when I read it, whether or not she was a Christian. I think she probably was not. How can someone who has faith in a loving, kind, and merciful God usurp His authority over her own life? How can she not trust that He has a plan for her as she goes through this trial? And even if He chooses not to heal her, why can't she trust Him to carry her through the valley of the shadow of death?
After I read Brittany's story, I read another story. A story that spoke to my heart. A sister in Christ was so moved by Brittany's lack of hope and direction that she chose to reach out to her through her own painful journey with cancer. This story is of Kara Tippetts. Kara is dying, too. Read the email she wrote to Brittany:
"Suffering is not the absence of goodness, it is not the absence of beauty, but perhaps it can be the place where true beauty can be known.
In your choosing your own death, you are robbing those that love you with the such tenderness, the opportunity of meeting you in your last moments and extending you love in your last breaths.
As I sat on the bed of my young daughter praying for you, I wondered over the impossibility of understanding that one day the story of my young daughter will be made beautiful in her living because she witnessed my dying.
That last kiss, that last warm touch, that last breath, matters — but it was never intended for us to decide when that last breath is breathed.
Knowing Jesus, knowing that He understands my hard goodbye, He walks with me in my dying. My heart longs for you to know Him in your dying. Because in His dying, He protected my living. My living beyond this place.
Because in His dying, He protected my living. My living beyond this place.
Brittany, when we trust Jesus to be the carrier, protector, redeemer of our hearts, death is no longer dying. My heart longs for you to know this truth, this love, this forever living.You have been told a lie. A horrible lie, that your dying will not be beautiful. That the suffering will be too great.
Today my oncologist and I spoke of your dying, of my dying, and of the beautiful partnership I have with my doctors in carrying me to my last moments with gentle care. For two thousand years doctors have lived beside the beautiful stream of protecting life and lovingly meeting patients in their dying with grace.
The doctor that prescribed you that pill you carry with you that will hasten your last breath has walked away from the Hippocratic oath that says, “first, do no harm.” He or she has walked away from the oath that has protected life and the beautiful dying we are granted. The doctors agreeing to such medicine are walking away from the beautiful protection of the Hippocratic oath.
There are also people who are speaking in ugly tones that make those of us who believe in Jesus seem unsafe, unkind, or unloving. Will you forgive us for the voices that feel like they are screaming at you from a heart that isn’t loving.
But in my whispering, pleading, loving voice dear heart- will you hear my heart ask you, beg you, plead with you — not to take that pill. Yes, your dying will be hard, but it will not be without beauty
Yes, your dying will be hard, but it will not be without beauty
. Will you please trust me with that truth.
More importantly, will you hear from my heart that Jesus loves you. He loves you. He loves you. He died an awful death upon a cross so that you would know Him today that we would no longer live separate from Him and in our death. He died and His death happened, it is not simply a story.
He died and He overcame death three days later, and in that overcoming of death He overcame the death you and I are facing in our cancer. He longs to know you, to shepherd you in your dying, and to give you life and give you life abundant- eternal life.
For everyone living knowing death is eminent- that we all will one day face this it – the question that is most important. Who is this Jesus, and what does He have to do with my dying? Please do not take that pill before you ask yourself that question.
It’s a question we all must ask, as we are all dying.
I recently wrote a book, The Hardest Peace, and I also blog about my journey of my living and my journey towards my last breath. It is not simply a story of dying of cancer, but of living this breath. It’s a book for each of us that has breath still to breath, to embrace our living, and to look upon our dying with grace. Living in BIG LOVE and meeting my end in love. Stunning, important, love.
But more than my book, I would jump on a plane tomorrow to meet you and share the beautiful brokenness of my story and meet you in yours if you would ever consider having me.
I pray my words reach you.
I pray they reach the multitudes that are looking at your story and believing the lie that suffering is a mistake, that dying isn’t to be braved, that choosing our death is the courageous story.
No – hastening death was never what God intended.
But in our dying, He does meet us with His beautiful grace.
But in our dying, He does meet us with His beautiful grace.
The Hippocratic oath matters, and those that are choosing to walk away from it need to be challenged.My heart hurts that they have decided to swim from the shores of grace that it protected in our living and dying.
I get to partner with my doctor in my dying, and it’s going to be a beautiful and painful journey for us all.
But, hear me — it is not a mistake —
beauty will meet us in that last breath."
Do you see the different perspectives? Brittany has no hope. She thinks she's making a wise decision, planning her own death, taking matters into her own hands. She wants to be in control on the last days of her life. She's chosen exactly how and when and where she wants to leave this earth. Kara, on the other hand, has chosen to take one moment at a time. To trust God every step of the way even when the way is unclear...and in her trusting, she has peace...she has hope...she knows her Savior loves her and wants the best for her...even if that means dying.
I hung up the phone from the interview and went into the living room to talk with my husband. I told him I didn't know how I really felt about the notoriety I'd receive from the newspaper article when it was published. Yes, it was an honor to be asked to share my story and hopefully, the journalist will include the statements I made on my faith. I want others to know that I, like Kara Tippetts, am choosing to trust God with each step of my journey and no, the steps aren't easy. They are steep, and hard, and burdensome...but I choose to trust. Unlike Brittany Maynard, I am choosing to continue on with my battle. I would never presume to know God's will for me by planning to take my own life.
I can understand Brittany's desperation. I can understand that given her prognosis, of terminal stage 4 brain cancer, that things seem bleak...but on the other hand, I know the power of my God! I have seen Him completely heal and I have seen Him allow people to die. His will is His alone. His ways are not our ways and if Brittany could understand that, I'm sure her story would be very different.
In the days ahead, I will be praying specifically for Brittany. I will be asking God to become so real in her life that she can't help but know Him personally. I will be praying for her to make a radical change in her life and to cancel her plans of taking her own life. I will be asking God to give her a clear understanding of His plan for her. If He so chooses, God could completely, in an instant, heal her body and remove every speck of cancer from her life. I have faith to believe this because I know God's Word to be true. I am thankful that I don't have to walk in darkness, as Brittany does. My God is bigger than my cancer and I am so very grateful that He is!
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Total darkness
At 5:35 this morning, I jumped out of bed. I remembered this morning, the second — and final — total lunar eclipse of 2014 would be starting soon. Quickly I got dressed, grabbed my camera and headed outside in the dark hoping to get a few good shots of the moon in all it's glory. It was eerily quiet outside. As I looked at the sky overhead, I was amazed with the spectacular view of thousands upon thousands of brilliant stars. The nighttime sky was so beautiful.
I set up my tripod and got two cameras ready. I was going to take photos with both my Nikon and my Canon and compare the two later. I glanced at the moon and saw the eclipse was just beginning. A small sliver of a shadow was covering the left side of the moon. It was hard to get a clear view from my backyard. There are so many tall trees that obstruct the view. If only there was small patch of high ground I could get to for the shot, but there was none.
I sat in my folding camp chair waiting for the eclipse to progress. I felt a little nervous sitting all alone in the dark on my patio. As I waited in the dark. I listened. There was a crunching sound just off to the right of me. Quickly, I turned my head only to see a deer grazing in the woods. The night sounds are so amplified early in the morning and I was jumpy.
The earth's shadow was beginning to slide across the moon now and I stood up to take a few photos. I knew I wasn't going to get the shot I wanted when I looked through the viewfinder because of all the trees. I resigned myself to not taking any photos and chose to just sit down and watch this spectacular event with my eyes. I sat for a long time before the surface of the moon was completely covered and it began to turn a bright, coppery red. This is another blood moon. (It looks red because of all the sunsets and sunrises from the Earth that will reflect onto the lunar surface. During the eclipse, although it's completely in the shadow of Earth, a bit of reddish sunlight still reaches the moon.
The Sun, the Earth and the full moon form a nearly straight line so that the full moon passes through the Earth's shadow, called the umbra.)
Earlier this year, I read a book called "The Four Blood Moons" by Pastor John Hagee. In it, Pastor Hagee talks about Biblical prophecy and how the blood moons correlate with Jewish holidays. It was a very interesting book and gave great insight into the coming days. Pastor Hagee mentions scripture that points to "signs in the sky" that are given by God. As I thought about some of the information I'd read in that book, I wondered about the future. There have been so many strange things happening in the world this year. The Ebola virus has been spreading like wildfire in many African countries, taking the lives of men, women and children. An Enterovirus has put hundreds of children in hospitals all around the United States. Isis has become the topic of dinnertime conversations while beheadings continue to take place all in the name of the Muslim's Allah. Weather changes have been erratic and unpredictable with droughts, flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, and earthquakes popping up unexpectedly in various places. Surely we are living in the end times.
The eclipse is complete now and the stillness of the night is overwhelmingly quiet. I wonder if the animals are affected in any way. Do they stand like statues in the dark wondering and waiting? I look around and try to adjust my eyes to the pitch black darkness. I'm glad the eclipse will soon be over. Although it's a beautiful, mysterious thing to watch, it's a little creepy too.
I gather my photographic equipment and go back inside the house. It's a little after 7:00 a.m. now. The eclipse has been over for a little while and the sun is starting to rise. I'm so thankful to see its light on the horizon...the dawning of a new day...but what if the sun didn't come up one day? What if we had to face a day of complete darkness? How would we react? Would crime increase? Would people become paralyzed with fear? I shudder when I think about it.
There's an old saying "it's always darkest before the dawn." Although I'm not sure who gets credit for it, a man by the name of Thomas Fuller appears to be the first person to commit the notion that 'the darkest hour is just before the dawn' to print in his religious travelogue A Pisgah-Sight Of Palestine And The Confines Thereof, 1650. That statement not only refers to the physical realm, it can also refer to the spiritual realm. To me, the statement provides hope. In my circumstance, I have found that when I am going through a very trying or difficult time, I am reminded of the dark...where I can't see what's coming next...where the shadows are eery and scary. But as I pass through the trial, just like an eclipse, I begin to see a glimmer of light...a sliver of hope. Then, before I know it, I've passed completely through the ordeal and I'm coming out on the other side of it. It's just as if I've had a personal eclipse in my life! The darkness doesn't last very long and soon the light will come.
As I wind down my radiation treatments, I am realizing as each day passes that hope is just around the corner. Soon all of this will be over and I can begin to live again. I can't wait for the day that shines bright to get here. I keep holding on and waiting. I know it will come, just as I know the night will turn to day and the cycle will repeat. I'm so grateful I don't have to face a lifetime of darkness...one trial after another with no end in sight. Without hope, there would be nothing to look forward to in life and we have to have hope.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
I set up my tripod and got two cameras ready. I was going to take photos with both my Nikon and my Canon and compare the two later. I glanced at the moon and saw the eclipse was just beginning. A small sliver of a shadow was covering the left side of the moon. It was hard to get a clear view from my backyard. There are so many tall trees that obstruct the view. If only there was small patch of high ground I could get to for the shot, but there was none.
I sat in my folding camp chair waiting for the eclipse to progress. I felt a little nervous sitting all alone in the dark on my patio. As I waited in the dark. I listened. There was a crunching sound just off to the right of me. Quickly, I turned my head only to see a deer grazing in the woods. The night sounds are so amplified early in the morning and I was jumpy.
The earth's shadow was beginning to slide across the moon now and I stood up to take a few photos. I knew I wasn't going to get the shot I wanted when I looked through the viewfinder because of all the trees. I resigned myself to not taking any photos and chose to just sit down and watch this spectacular event with my eyes. I sat for a long time before the surface of the moon was completely covered and it began to turn a bright, coppery red. This is another blood moon. (It looks red because of all the sunsets and sunrises from the Earth that will reflect onto the lunar surface. During the eclipse, although it's completely in the shadow of Earth, a bit of reddish sunlight still reaches the moon.
The Sun, the Earth and the full moon form a nearly straight line so that the full moon passes through the Earth's shadow, called the umbra.)
Earlier this year, I read a book called "The Four Blood Moons" by Pastor John Hagee. In it, Pastor Hagee talks about Biblical prophecy and how the blood moons correlate with Jewish holidays. It was a very interesting book and gave great insight into the coming days. Pastor Hagee mentions scripture that points to "signs in the sky" that are given by God. As I thought about some of the information I'd read in that book, I wondered about the future. There have been so many strange things happening in the world this year. The Ebola virus has been spreading like wildfire in many African countries, taking the lives of men, women and children. An Enterovirus has put hundreds of children in hospitals all around the United States. Isis has become the topic of dinnertime conversations while beheadings continue to take place all in the name of the Muslim's Allah. Weather changes have been erratic and unpredictable with droughts, flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, and earthquakes popping up unexpectedly in various places. Surely we are living in the end times.
The eclipse is complete now and the stillness of the night is overwhelmingly quiet. I wonder if the animals are affected in any way. Do they stand like statues in the dark wondering and waiting? I look around and try to adjust my eyes to the pitch black darkness. I'm glad the eclipse will soon be over. Although it's a beautiful, mysterious thing to watch, it's a little creepy too.
I gather my photographic equipment and go back inside the house. It's a little after 7:00 a.m. now. The eclipse has been over for a little while and the sun is starting to rise. I'm so thankful to see its light on the horizon...the dawning of a new day...but what if the sun didn't come up one day? What if we had to face a day of complete darkness? How would we react? Would crime increase? Would people become paralyzed with fear? I shudder when I think about it.
There's an old saying "it's always darkest before the dawn." Although I'm not sure who gets credit for it, a man by the name of Thomas Fuller appears to be the first person to commit the notion that 'the darkest hour is just before the dawn' to print in his religious travelogue A Pisgah-Sight Of Palestine And The Confines Thereof, 1650. That statement not only refers to the physical realm, it can also refer to the spiritual realm. To me, the statement provides hope. In my circumstance, I have found that when I am going through a very trying or difficult time, I am reminded of the dark...where I can't see what's coming next...where the shadows are eery and scary. But as I pass through the trial, just like an eclipse, I begin to see a glimmer of light...a sliver of hope. Then, before I know it, I've passed completely through the ordeal and I'm coming out on the other side of it. It's just as if I've had a personal eclipse in my life! The darkness doesn't last very long and soon the light will come.
As I wind down my radiation treatments, I am realizing as each day passes that hope is just around the corner. Soon all of this will be over and I can begin to live again. I can't wait for the day that shines bright to get here. I keep holding on and waiting. I know it will come, just as I know the night will turn to day and the cycle will repeat. I'm so grateful I don't have to face a lifetime of darkness...one trial after another with no end in sight. Without hope, there would be nothing to look forward to in life and we have to have hope.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Reckless words
“Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” (Proverbs 12:18)
The Bible says that harsh words stir up anger. Although my words had not been harsh, they had been hurtful. Had I intended to cause hurt feelings? No! But had my words inflicted pain? Yes. What was I to do now? The only thing I knew to do, apologize. The Bible says a gentle answer turns away wrath. It was my hope that my apology would be accepted. I'm not sure it has been, but I hope it will be.
I've learned the hard way that words are powerful. They have the power to heal or to destroy. Once spoken, they can never be recalled. I've asked God to set a guard at my lips keeping hurtful words from ever coming out of my mouth and I've asked Him to guide my hand protecting it from writing words that may inadvertently affect someone else in a negative way.
We are all human and we all make mistakes. I'll admit that I've definitely made my share of them. The Bible tells me that love covers a multitude of sin so I am hoping that the person I've offended will find it in their heart to forgive me and know that I am deeply sorry because I love them. There's nothing that makes Satan happier than to cause dissension in relationships. Wherever he can get a foothold, he will do it. It is our job to realize when he's at work and call him on it.
The Lord knows the intentions of our hearts and He holds us accountable for our actions. We we admit our faults and ask for forgiveness, He forgives us. When we ask others for forgiveness they have the choice to accept our apology or reject it. If they refuse to accept it, then a root of unforgiveness and bitterness begins to grow and damage that could have been stopped early on grows to epic proportions.
You may never consider your words as weapons but they hold great power. Choose them carefully.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
"Set a guard, O Lord, before my mouth; keep watch at the door of my lips. Psalm 141:3"
Monday, October 6, 2014
Strange orders
My visit to the radiation clinic today was unusual in that I was not treated. When I was called back for my session, the therapist looked at my skin and called the doctor in for a consult. The doctor said I couldn't be treated today because my skin was in such bad shape. She told me to get dressed and she'd see me in her office. I wasn't too surprised at her decision. My skin is so burned, broken, and peeling. It's very painful to even move, so I was thankful I won't be receiving radiation today.
In Dr. Santiago's office, she talked to me about the importance of airing my skin to help prevent dryness. She instructed me to sit around without a shirt on for the next 2 days. That's going to be difficult for me because I'm extremely cold natured and I'm very modest. I told her I would be obedient and do as she asked. She also asked about my chest pains and my nausea. She was concerned that I'd dropped 2 pounds over the weekend. I explained that the chest pains are being monitored by my cardiologist and he feels that it's Pericarditis related to the radiation. We can't figure out what the nausea is from unless it's also related to the radiation. She said some people do get nauseated from the accumulation of radiation in their bodies but she wasn't sure if that's what I was experiencing or if I had perhaps caught a stomach virus. I haven't been around anyone who's been ill, so I think it must be related to the radiation too.
After leaving the clinic, I ran by CVS to pick up my prescription for nausea. I also picked up some Advil per the doctor's orders. I think the people in CVS are recognizing me when I come in now because they smile and call me by my first name. I don't know if that's a good thing...
So now I'm home, sitting at my computer with the blinds drawn so none of my neighbors can see I have no shirt on. It's very chilly in the house so I think I'll have to turn on the heat. I need to try and eat something for lunch but I just don't really feel like it. Maybe a bowl of soup will stay down.
I long for the days of good health again. It's amazing how much we take those days for granted until we've lost them. This time last year, I was outside raking leaves and gathering up pine cones. Today I just watch them fall and wish I was able to be out there doing things. My hope is that before the year is over, I'll feel up to doing things again. I keep reminding myself that this won't last forever although right now, it feels like it will never end.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
In Dr. Santiago's office, she talked to me about the importance of airing my skin to help prevent dryness. She instructed me to sit around without a shirt on for the next 2 days. That's going to be difficult for me because I'm extremely cold natured and I'm very modest. I told her I would be obedient and do as she asked. She also asked about my chest pains and my nausea. She was concerned that I'd dropped 2 pounds over the weekend. I explained that the chest pains are being monitored by my cardiologist and he feels that it's Pericarditis related to the radiation. We can't figure out what the nausea is from unless it's also related to the radiation. She said some people do get nauseated from the accumulation of radiation in their bodies but she wasn't sure if that's what I was experiencing or if I had perhaps caught a stomach virus. I haven't been around anyone who's been ill, so I think it must be related to the radiation too.
After leaving the clinic, I ran by CVS to pick up my prescription for nausea. I also picked up some Advil per the doctor's orders. I think the people in CVS are recognizing me when I come in now because they smile and call me by my first name. I don't know if that's a good thing...
So now I'm home, sitting at my computer with the blinds drawn so none of my neighbors can see I have no shirt on. It's very chilly in the house so I think I'll have to turn on the heat. I need to try and eat something for lunch but I just don't really feel like it. Maybe a bowl of soup will stay down.
I long for the days of good health again. It's amazing how much we take those days for granted until we've lost them. This time last year, I was outside raking leaves and gathering up pine cones. Today I just watch them fall and wish I was able to be out there doing things. My hope is that before the year is over, I'll feel up to doing things again. I keep reminding myself that this won't last forever although right now, it feels like it will never end.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Recycled
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| Pieces of broken clay pottery |
I don't know why pottery captures my heart so, but it does. Maybe the scene from "Ghost" with Demi Moore and Patrick Swazye has something to do with it. In the movie, Demi Moore is an artist who uses pottery as one of her favorite mediums. There's a romantic scene at the potter's wheel where Demi is working on a piece of clay and Patrick, her live in boyfriend, sneaks up behind her and sits with her at the wheel. He places his hands over hers as they guide the clay into shape. Inevitably, Patrick causes the clay form to come off center and it begins to wobble. That's no big problem for a potter though. It's easy enough to just collapse the piece and start again.
As I thought about pottery this morning, I remembered some information an old family friend shared with me as a teen when I was taking a hand throwing class in pottery. Although I would rather have learned to use the potter's wheel, I was thankful to just be learning about pottery in general. Ann Nunemacher, was a dear friend of my mother's and she had agreed to teach a hand throwing class during one summer at a Girl Scout camp. Since I've always been interested in any and every sort of craft you could imagine, I was ecstatic to find out she was going to teach. Ann's trade was graphic design, but she was skilled and knowledgeable in many different art forms. I was thankful she was willing to impart knowledge to a group of giddy school girls.
In our first class, Ann taught us all about the different types of clay. She taught us that the clay contained air bubbles and if a piece of art was made without breaking those bubbles by hand before firing or curing the clay, the piece would become weak and break. In order to break the bubbles, the clay had to be repeatedly thrown against a hard surface. This is how the name for the class was obtained..."hand throwing." It wasn't easy to work with the clay. It was very hard and unpliable. Water had to be added in small amounts at a time and it had to be gently worked into the clay to render it workable. We learned to master the clay by adding just the right amount of water to make it soft enough to work, but not so wet that it wouldn't hold together well. When we had the clay at the perfect consistency, Ann taught us how to use potter's tools to shape and cut designs into the wet clay. We were allowed to be as creative as we dared and if we needed help or guidance, Ann was right there. Since we had no kiln at our Girl Scout camp, our clay pieces had to be air dried and cured. It would take many days in the hot Georgia sun for the pieces to be completely dry.
Some of the girls became impatient in waiting for their art to dry. They would pick up the piece, not heeding Ann's warning, and then shudder in disappointment as their piece fell apart. Instead of sweeping the pieces up and throwing them into the trash, Ann explained that the broken pieces of clay could be crushed and added to the new, wet clay forming an even stronger clay for the next throwing. The ground up, broken pieces were called "grog." The cool, wet clay was called "slump." It amazed me how the broken, normally discarded pieces could enhance the workable clay making it stronger. This concept caused me to think about my life as it is now.
God has allowed me to be broken many times in my life. Just like the clay, He's taken my broken pieces and used them to make me stronger. He has allowed me to be crushed and shattered but not for my own purposes. He's allowed it for His purposes. During my times of brokenness, I have experienced not only a weakened spirit, but a weakened body. Just like a potter's clay vessel, spinning off center on a potter's wheel, what I thought I was intended to be wasn't what I was at all. My image of myself didn't always line up with God's image and more often than not, He would cave in the sides of my wet clay and start all over again...remolding, reshaping, reforming. At each trial and at each instance of suffering, He took the broken pieces and added them back into the "slump," the moldable me, making me stronger not only in my faith, but also in my spirit.
There have been many times when my body was broken. I've suffered many physical ailments, surgeries, and broken bones. There are times when my brokenness hasn't been visible to the human eye...the times when my heart was crushed through disappointments or unmet expectations. In each instance, God has done a restorative work. He's taken the broken pieces of my life and fit them together again making an even stronger, more usable vessel.
I still have "learn wheel throwing" on my bucket list and one day, I know I'll learn that skill and cross it off the list. Until then, I'll keep watching God as He takes the strong, firm, dried pieces of my brokenness and adds them to the soft, weak parts of my life. That process gives me new strength and makes me even more usable for His glory.
Trials and brokenness are never easy, but who am I to tell the Master Potter what I think! I'm so thankful I was able to take Ann's class and learn all about clay and pottery. I'm even more thankful that God has used that knowledge to teach me more about His way of using, molding, and re-sculpting my life from shards of brokenness into a vessel of beauty.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: "Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will let you hear my words." So I went down to the potter's house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter's hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do. (Jeremiah 18:1-4 RSV)
But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.Isaiah 64:8
You turn things upside down! Shall the potter be regarded as the clay, that the thing made should say of its maker, “He did not make me”; or the thing formed say of him who formed it, “He has no understanding”?Isaiah 29:16
Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for dishonorable use? Romans 9:21
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Seasons
As I sit at my computer this morning, I look out over my wooded lot and marvel at the change in seasons. The leaves on the trees are turning from a deep shade of green into various hues of oranges, reds, and browns. There is a brisk, cool breeze blowing and an air of anticipation on the wind...I can feel it. Autumn is here! My favorite time of year when the mornings are cool and the nights are scintillating. When fires in the fireplace and cups of hot chocolate are so very near...seasons. "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven... a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace." Ecclesiastes 3:1-8This season of my life seems to be a time of change. I'm no longer in the Spring of my life, the time when I would have considered myself young and vibrant...thriving. Neither am I in the Summer of my life, a time when I would be constantly on the move, going and doing. No, I'm in the Autumn of my life. Things that were once green and alive are in the process of changing and dying...like the sloughing off of unneeded and unnecessary layers. The transformation, though painful, hasn't necessarily been a bad thing. In fact, I think it's been rather good.This Autumn of my life has forced me to see things in a different light. Instead of feeling helpless and hopeless, I feel a sense of eagerness at something new on the horizon...just like Sam Cooke's song, "A Change is Gonna Come," I feel a change coming...something will soon be different in me.
My life has been so rich and so full. For 56 years, I've lived every single day to the fullest. I've made goals and dreamed dreams. I've grown and changed over and over again. First from childhood into adolescence, then from adolescence into a adulthood. I've enjoyed being a wife, a mother, a friend. I've experienced life as it's come full circle...as I've watched grandchildren be born and older family members die. There have been seasons of joy and pain, but one isn't complete without the other. Seasons. Life keeps going. Cancer has helped to change me and is still in the process of refining me even further. I'm no longer the person I once was in the past. I am different now...but in a good way.
As I stand watching leaves swirl around me, dancing on the wind, I wonder if I'll ever dance again. The leaves of my life are changing color one by one. The leaves must change color and fall dead to the ground so the Spring can come again with new life...a time of renewal and growth. To every thing there is a season and a time...this is my time for shedding negativity, for sloughing off unmet expectations, for dropping old hurts, bitterness, and unforgiveness. It's a time to let go. And as I release the parts of my life that are no longer needed, I'll stand bare in the Winter of my life, waiting with great expectation for Spring to come...new life, new leaves, a new season. Cancer, like the season of Autumn, has come for a time but it won't stay forever. It has come to help me remove the dross from my life and prepare me for the Springtime. I can feel a change coming and I know it's going to be a good one. Autumn may be here for a while yet, but Spring is on it's way.
©bonnie annis all rights reserved
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