Oncology visit

What I want you to know:
When I walked into the Oncology center, I was nervous. No one had come with me today and I felt so alone. I entered the lobby and took the elevator up to the third floor. I had no idea what was going to be done today. I signed in at the receptionist's desk and sat down in the waiting room. No one else was there. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I'd only met Dr. Feinstein once before and that was shortly after my cancer diagnosis. It's amazing how my illness has given me an entire team of doctors. Each one of them specialize in different areas, but they all work together for my benefit. Some days I feel like a rock star.

I waited about fifteen minutes before being called back. Of course, the nurse ushered me into a little alcove with the infamous scale. In a chipper voice, she said, "Let's get your weight." In my head I said, 'no, let's don't and say we did." I hate having my weight done, partly because I know I've gained weight since surgery and partly because there's nothing I can do about it at this time. I haven't been able to do any kind of exercise for months.

The nurse with her little clipboard guided me into the exam room. Once again, I see the blood pressure machine coming my way. I explained that she couldn't use my arms because of the Lymphedema and she gave the same reaction as the nurse yesterday in Dr. Smith's office. She wasn't too happy to have to take my blood pressure on my calf. She had to try 3 times to get the machine to register. It was really hurting as it pumped up higher and higher. I'd never seen a cuff pump up to 243 before and I could feel pain on my leg. I commented to her that it was really hurting, but she did nothing. When the machine finally stopped pumping, I was shocked to see my blood pressure at 179/110. I commented that my blood pressure was extremely high and she told me not to worry because it always registers higher on the leg. "Oh, okay," I said.

Dr. Feinstein came in and sat down. He always sits so close that kind of freaks me out. He is so calm and so soft spoken. I'm sure that helps put his patients at ease. I listened as he went over my lab results. He wants to keep a close eye on my Vitamin D level which is still very low. As he reviewed my bone density scan, he commented that I'd need to have it redone every two years. Apparently the aromatase inhibitor, Arimidex, can cause severe Osteopenia and Osteoporosis. He explained that those in turn can cause frequent bone fractures.

As the doctor finished reviewing my labs, he leaned in closer to me and began to tell me all the side effects of Arimidex. He said hair loss, hot flashes, bone/joint pain, fatigue, mood swings and mental changes are all side effects that can occur. He wants me to try the medication for 30 days and then report back to him. If Arimidex doesn't work well for me, he'll put me on Tamoxifen but in the next breath, he said Tamoxifen causes blood clots.

For the next five to ten years I'll need to be on this medication. Dr. Feinstein wants me to wait two weeks to start since I just finished radiation. He said that will give me a little more time to recover and get my energy back before starting the new medication. It scares me.

What I'm thinking:
Will I ever be through with treatment for cancer? Will I have doctors appointments every month? Will I think every new ache or pain is the cancer returning? Will I ever get my energy back? I don't know what to do...do I just trust that the doctor knows more than I do and take the medication just because he tells me to take it? Do I need to research it more and ask about alternative therapies? I wonder if I'm just a lab rat...being used to gather statistical information on how Arimidex does or does not affect estrogen in my body. I know the medication is supposed to better my odds of having a recurrence, but all of those side effects...are they worth it? I'm going to pray I don't get any of the side effects but if I do, I hope I don't experience any of the more severe ones...is that too much to ask? I don't want to go through hot flashes again...been there and done that...it was definitely no fun! Hair loss...don't want to experience that either...it takes my hair forever to grow and it's already very fine and thin. Mood swings/mental changes...I definitely don't want any of those and I know Phil won't either! I don't want him to wonder what ever happened to his sweet loving wife! I'm afraid the medication may make me be a horrible, irritable person. So much to worry about, but I can't go there. I don't want to borrow trouble. All I can do is trust my doctors and hope for the best. I know God's in control and that's all that matters. Sometimes I think Cancer sucks.

Forgetting what lies behind

What I want you to know:
I was there to see a new doctor...to become established as a new patient. The office was crowded but the staff was friendly...it will be okay, I thought. Within just a few minutes, the nurse called my name. I rose from my seat and walked toward the door. I winked at my husband, who was filling out paperwork, "see you in a few minutes," I said.

The nurse took me back through a maze of hallways and after getting my weight, took me into an exam room where she asked general health questions. When it came time for her to take my blood pressure, I knew I would have to tell her about the cancer. I had hoped I wouldn't have to divulge that information so quickly, but it was necessary. She pulled the cuff from the wall and came closer. As she was about to wrap the cuff around my arm, I said, "you'll have to do it on my ankle." She looked at me through puzzled eyes and that's when I remarked, "I have breast cancer." I showed her my Lymphedema sleeves and she shook her head. "My mother had breast cancer and she had sleeves too." I felt a little more at ease. She said, "I'll let the doctor decide what to do about the blood pressure." She smiled and stepped out of the room. I waited.

In a couple of minutes my new physician was entering the room. He reached out his hand to make my acquaintance. He seemed very professional and friendly. I commented on the artwork he had on the exam room walls. They were covered in framed, handmade drawings and paintings created by a child. Evidently they were done by either his child or a grandchild. He smiled and thanked me telling me that the pictures were made by his "now grown" daughter. I told him I had 4 grown children and 7 grandchildren with one on the way. He smiled.

We proceeded through a crash course of my medical history and he asked the reason for my visit. I explained that we were new to the area and were just there to get established. He asked what my main concern was and I told him I didn't really have one other than the breast cancer. I was already being treated for that. He asked me to lie back on the exam table and proceeded to take my blood pressure on my ankle. I was very still as he listened to my heart and lungs. He ordered some routine blood tests and asked if I needed any of my medications filled while I was there. I gave him the necessary information and thanked him as I headed for the lab.

Sitting in the chair, waiting to have my blood drawn, I could feel my heart beating faster. I was nervous. When the lab tech came over, needle in hand, she glanced down at my arms. I don't think she realized I was wearing compression sleeves. She must have thought I was wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath my blouse. As she readied herself to draw my blood, and saw I wasn't making any effort to raise my sleeves, I could see a questioned look on her face. "I have breast cancer," I heard myself saying once again. I explained to her that my blood could only be drawn on my left hand and only using a butterfly needle. She looked and saw that the veins on that hand were very tiny. She began vigorously slapping the top of my hand in hopes of making the veins become more prominent. After a few minutes, I felt a stick. She had inserted the butterfly needle at the precise location she had chosen but had missed the mark. She called to her coworker and asked for help. The other lab tech came over and with just a few quick adjustments was able to get the blood to flow easily. "Oh, you have the magic touch," I said. The older woman exclaimed, "honey, I've been doing this for fourteen years." I asked her if she had prayed over that needle before sticking me. She smiled and said, "yes, I did. I always do!" We smiled at each other and I was thankful she was a sister in Christ.

I left the office that day with a bandage on my hand. As my husband and I were driving home from our appointments, I began thinking. Why did I tell the nurse, the doctor, and the lab techs that I have breast cancer? Why didn't I say I had cancer? That was food for thought.

This morning, while having my devotional, I came across two verses in the Bible that helped me find the answer to my questions.

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43:18-19 New International Version

"Brothers and sisters I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:12-14 New International Version

The reason I said, "I have breast cancer," is because I had been looking backward instead of looking forward. Yes, I had breast cancer, but I no longer have it. I've had surgery. I've had radiation, and in just a few days, I'll start on medication. I needed to shift my thinking.

I needed to look forward with my eyes fixed on the goal before me...to live. I needed to look forward with gratitude and excitement. The only reason I ever have to look back is to remember how far I've come. I never want to look back with regret. I never want to look back and wish things were different. To keep growing and changing, I have to keep moving. I have to move forward and not backward.

Over and over again, I hear people say to me, "God will never give you more than you can handle." That statement is not in the Bible and is definitely not true. God often gives us more than we can handle and the reason He does is to show us that even when we are weak, He is strong. He is sufficient. Even in the depths of suffering, He is good.

As I look forward, I know that God is already there. He's waiting for me with outstretched hand. He is ready and willing to walk my path with me. When I look back, I see how far He's already taken me. We've traveled up steep and rocky trails together. Some of those trails I knew I couldn't climb...but we did it...we made it together! There may be rocky paths ahead still, but I'm willing to go wherever He leads me...one step at a time. I will keep moving forward. 

What I'm thinking:
Sometimes, I think it's okay to look back, just for a glance, just to remember. I always want to remember His faithfulness. my journey with breast cancer isn't over yet but my thinking has changed. I won't be so quick to exclaim, "I have breast cancer." I think the reason I've done that in the past was because of my fear of the  unknown. Surgery and radiation should have removed all traces of the cancer, but that little feeling of insecurity has said, "but, what  it...." It's time to put those thoughts to rest. I may have had breast cancer, but it isn't going to have me. I'm moving forward and not only am I looking at what lies ahead of me, I'm looking up, too. God is doing a new thing! He is making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The old is gone and the new has come.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Finding God's purpose

Since I wrote in my blog last Monday, I've had a very difficult week. One of the reasons I decided to write only once a week was because I just couldn't muster up the energy to continue on a daily basis. You see, I've been struggling. Daily it seems I meet a new challenge. The physical challenges are easy to identify...one day it might be extreme fatigue, the next day it might be a lack of appetite, and then there's the rawness of my skin...so burned and so painful that I could barely stand to have anything touch me. And then, there's the emotional side...the side that's a little harder to understand and identify. I've cried a million tears...begged and pleaded with God. I've been depressed and lonely. I've felt totally abandoned...I've struggled in ways that no one but God has seen. I've felt ashamed and unlovely. But even in all of the struggling, I know God has never left my side. He's always been right with me.

Yesterday was a really hard day and after I explain why, you'll more than likely wonder how I could let the life of a complete stranger affect me so much. What you'll really wonder about is how I could connect on such a deep level with a complete stranger through Facebook, but that's one of the wonders of the internet. There's a "pink sisterhood" out there...all over the internet women in various stages of Breast Cancer connect...and the reason we connect so easily is because we can truly understand one another's struggle.

Not long after I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer, I was on the internet searching for any and all information I could find about Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. I wanted to learn everything I could about the type of Cancer that I was dealing with at the time. As I was searching, I came across several Breast Cancer support groups on Facebook and decided to join them since I had no support other than close friends and family. I needed people to rally around me. I needed women who could relate to what I was experiencing. I needed their wisdom and expertise. At first, the support groups were great. I was able to find other women who shared my same diagnosis. I was able to ask questions and get answers from women who'd already had mastectomies, lymph node removal, chemotherapy and radiation. These "pink sisters" were more than happy to help. No question was too silly to ask and boy, did I have a lot of questions. As time went on, I found that more often than not, many of the women were very negative. They were dragging me down. So I left those groups. It was important for me to find women of strong Christian faith...women who had hope. I searched again and found another group on Facebook, "Christian Women Living with Breast Cancer," and I immediately joined it. What a difference I saw in the comments, encouragement, and attitude of these women. They were so kind and so loving. Finally, I felt at home with others like me.

A month ago, as I was reading a post by one of the women. She was asking for prayer for a friend. I was intrigued by the photo she had posted of a young mother struggling with Triple Negative Breast Cancer. Triple Negative is a very aggressive form of Breast Cancer is hard to treat because it isn't fed by Estrogen, Progesterone, or Her-2 Neu (thus the name Triple Negative. Most Breast Cancers are fed by one or more of these three hormones and knowing which ones cause the Cancer to grow allows doctors to aggressively treat them with anti hormone therapies.)



The woman's name was Christina Newman. She was just 39 years old, a wife, and the mother to two young girls. She had been fighting for 4 years. She had invited the public into her life by hosting V-logs (video blogs) where she shared her daily life with her viewers. She had quite a following and I was one of those followers. She was open and honest and raw. She shared her good days and her bad days. She wanted others to know what Breast Cancer was like. She had been through all the treatments her medical team could give her but the Cancer had metastasized. Her liver was the size of a basketball and she was in extreme pain, but even though she was in horrendous pain, she always had a smile on her face. She had a positive attitude. I had the honor of corresponding with Christina several times over the past month. I was able to ask her questions and offer her my love and support. She was always gracious...always kind.

The last V-log Christina had posted was hard to watch. It was obvious from her facial expressions that she was in pain. She'd just had a last ditch chemo treatment in an attempt to shrink the massive tumor that was taking over her liver. Her skin was jaundiced and her eyes looked so weak, and yet she was able to smile. Her spirit was amazing. She was so brave.

On Friday of this past week, Christina was moved to Hospice. The doctors had done all they could do. Her family was preparing for the inevitable. Last night I saw another post...a photo of Christina holding her youngest child...18 month old Ava. It touched my heart. I could feel her pain.


Last night, Christina lost her battle with Cancer. She passed away peacefully surrounded by her loved ones at 1:40 p.m. Mountain time. One of her family members posted a picture of her peacefully resting. I'm not sure if it was just before or just after her death, but it hit me hard. Even at that point on her journey, a smile was on her face...she was filled with peace. I wondered if I would respond the same way.

I cried and cried. I cried for Christina. I cried for her family. I cried for me. The reality of Cancer was hard to accept. I didn't want to fight and fight and fight Cancer only to have it win someday. I just wanted to live. Christina fought valiantly and even still, Cancer won. As I thought about her family and the devastation they were going through, I cried even more. So many women...all races, all ages...why? Why can't we understand what causes Breast Cancer? Why can't we find a cure? There were so many questions and so few answers.

Recently I read a quote that said, "God never wastes our pain, only we do." What a thought provoking statement that was to me. For months now, I've wondered why God allowed me to have a close encounter with Breast Cancer. What was His plan, what was His purpose? I've always lived close to Him, always tried to do His will...what have I still not learned?

You've heard the saying before, "don't judge a book by its cover." From first glance, most people I meet think I'm the typical middle class American woman, wife and mother. They think I'm average. I've lived a hard life...a life that hasn't always been pretty. Sometimes, the ugliness came from choices others made for me and sometimes it came from choices I made myself, but still, the ugliness came. I've been hurt physically, emotionally, and mentally. I've fought adversity most of my life and throughout every painful part of my life journey, God has been there. He's seen me at my best and He's seen me at my worst, but most of all, He's loved me in spite of my choices.

God gave me free will, just like He's given it to you. It has always been my choice to either choose His will or mine. I regret having to say that many times throughout my life, I chose my will over His and suffered the consequences. He gave me that right. He gave me the opportunities. Often I knew better but chose unwisely. When I realized I'd made a mistake, I immediately came back to God and asked for forgiveness. He was always so ready and willing to accept me back into His loving arms. He never said, "I told you so," instead He tenderly opened His arms of love and embraced me calling me His precious child. So why would my loving, caring, Heavenly Father allow His beloved daughter to experience the pain and agony of going through Breast Cancer? I've asked myself that for months, but today, I asked God and His Word gave me the answers. Listen to some of them:

"And if we are [His] children, then we are [His] heirs also: heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ [sharing His inheritance with Him]; only we must share His suffering if we are to share His glory." Romans 8:17

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Romans 5:3-5 NIV)

So what those verses tell me is that as a follower of Christ, I must share in His sufferings knowing that the suffering God has chosen specifically for me has a reason. The reason I must suffer is in knowing that through my suffering, God is going to teach me something. He is going to use it for my benefit and for His glory. When I understand that, I can rejoice because I know the suffering He has allowed into my life will teach me to persevere. It will teach me patience, it will give me hope, and it will yield fruit.

Now you might think that's an easy concept to grasp, and for some people it might be...but for me, it's been very difficult. I will be honest with you. I have struggled greatly over the past few months. I have wondered if I was going to be able to make it through this journey. I've had good days and really bad days. For some reason, it seems the bad days have outnumbered the good days but I've chosen to press on. Maybe I've been a little naive or maybe it's just been that old Pollyanna in me coming out...always looking for the bright side...whatever the case, I haven't given up. Sure, I've wanted to, especially when the pain was really bad, but I just couldn't. I knew that God was at work and who am I to challenge that? The only way I was going to get through these difficult days was to lean on my faith.

But how can I get to a point of rejoicing in my suffering? The only way I could do that is to really understand and know something deep in my soul! It never feels good to be in pain and no normal person would ever feel good about hurting but faith allows me to have a deeper understanding...a knowing that others don't share. What do I know? Paul says, "Knowing that suffering produces..." Suffering does something, accomplishes something. It is productive. It is of value. I know it works, and that is what makes me rejoice. Have you ever seen a woman in labor? Have you watched the expression on her face? The terrible, awful pain of childbirth is real! A woman in the throws of birth pangs is hurting but she suffers through it because she knows her efforts will be productive! She is going to receive a great reward...a beautiful newborn baby.

Suffering produces and Paul, in the book of Romans, tell me that suffering produces perseverance. In some versions the word may be patience. The Greek word literally means "to abide under, to stay under the pressure." Pressure is something I want to get out from under, but suffering teaches me to stay under, to stick in there and hang with it...stick-to-itiveness- hanging in there no matter what! It's not easy to do. Usually when trials come the first thing I want to do is run! I don't want to hang around and stick with it. But I know I must because God wants me to learn a valuable lesson. He wants me to learn that even when trials come, He will be there. He won't leave me alone. He wants me to learn about His character but He also wants me to learn about myself. God wants me to learn about His grace and His mercy, too. As I watch Him work things out in ways I never expected, I learn the next time a trial comes that I can trust Him. I won't be tempted to panic or bail out. I become steady. I can persevere. Suffering produces steadiness. If I didn't suffer, I would never have that quality.

Second, not only does suffering produce steadiness but character. The Greek word for character carries with it the idea of being put to the test and approved. It is the idea of being shown to be reliable. Steadiness produces reliability. I will finally learn that I am not going to be destroyed, that things will work out. People learn that they can count on me...that I have strength...that I am reliable. God will stamp my behind with His seal - "Tested and approved."

Third, I know that reliability produces something. Suffering produces steadiness, steadiness produces reliability, and reliability produces hope. Paul spoke of "rejoicing in hope," the hope of sharing the glory of God, a hope for the future beyond death. But here is hope that I will share the glory of God, which is God's character, right now. I have the hope that God is producing the image of Christ in me right now. That's a great thing! And this hope is a certainty, not just a possibility. I am being changed. I can see myself changing a little each day. I am becoming more like Jesus. I can see that I am more thoughtful, more compassionate, more loving. I am being mellowed. I am becoming like Christ -- stronger, wiser, purer, more patient. To my amazement, a certainty grows in my heart that God is doing His work just as he promised. He is transforming me into the image of His Son. He is using my Cancer to conform me into His image and He can use your trial or health issue to do the same for you.

The final point Paul makes is that hope does not disappoint. Hope makes me confident. Hope, or certainty, produces confidence and boldness. I lose my fear of ridicule and shame, and I can speak up and share out of the reality of my experience of what God has brought me through. In the flesh, at the point of pain and suffering, it's natural to feel that God does not love me. It is easy to feel rejected. It's easy to get used to thinking that love is something that blesses me and warms me and takes care of me. It is almost impossible for me to think that I am being loved when I am hurting. It is hard for me to believe that the one who is doing the hurting is doing it out of genuine love for me. But God's love for me is beyond my comprehension. In the flesh, I feel broken, worthless, and forgotten. But this is where I must remember the cross.

The cross is where Christ suffered and died for me. So when Paul tells me that I must share in Christ's sufferings, he wants me to consider what Jesus did for me...for Bonnie. When I look at the cross, I see how ungodly I really am. I am not like God and I surely don't act like God. I see that I am a sinner. I have been involved in things that are hurtful. I have destroyed myself and others. I find myself lawless and selfish at times, and I know it was my sin that nailed Jesus to that cross. It was not His own sin, because He was sinless.

If you clearly knew God's love when you became a Christian -- when you were enemies and helpless and powerless -- how much more can you count on the fact that God loves you now that you are His child? Even though you might be suffering, even though you don't feel loved right now, even though it seems as though God is against you, how much more can you count on the fact that God loves you?

Paul is arguing from the greater to the lesser. If God could love you when it was so evident to you that you didn't deserve it, how much more must you count upon His love now that you know that you are dear to Him and loved by Him?

God helped me understand that this suffering wasn't allowed to come into my life because God was angry with me; it came because of His deep love for me! It came from the heart of a Father who is putting me through some development that I desperately need to grow into the kind of a person I desperately want to be. And He loves me enough that He will not let me off the hook, but will take me through it. Therefore it is not his anger that I am experiencing, but His love.

That is what Hebrews 12 argues, isn't it? If we have been disciplined by the fathers of our flesh, and we know they love us, why can't we believe that God loves us when He puts us through times of testing and pressure and suffering. When you see that truth, then you can rejoice, because you know that suffering will produce the things that make you what you want to be. "No discipline for the present is pleasant. But afterwards it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it," (Hebrews 12:11).

God's purpose in allowing Breast Cancer into my life has been to bring me into the state of righteousness that He wants me to attain. He wants me to learn and understand perseverance, steadiness, stability, and hope. He wants to teach me to stand firm under trial knowing that He is working on me. Just like a potter shapes a lifeless lump of clay into a beautiful, useful vessel or a stone smith chips away at an ugly rock transforming it into a beautiful semiprecious gem, God has specific intentions toward me and toward you. He uses suffering to teach valuable life lessons. He longs for us to be transformed into Christlikeness and the only way we He can do that is to allow us to participate in the sufferings of His Son. This is why we can rejoice in suffering. This is why I can give thanks for my Breast Cancer even though it's been so difficult! Just knowing that God chose my trial makes me willing to persevere. He never said it would be easy and it definitely hasn't been...but in the long run, I know it will be worthwhile. So I won't waste a minute of my pain. I will ask God to help me embrace it and even welcome it for I know He's using it to refine me into the image of His Son.

Sweet Christina passed away with a smile on her face. I wonder if it was because she was finally free from pain or was it what she saw at the very moment her life slipped from this world into the next? Was she smiling because she beheld her Savior's face? I think that is more than likely the case because sweet Christina had hope. She had faith. She fought the battle that had been chosen for her and even though it seems the Cancer won, I think Christina is the winner because she is free. Her pain was not wasted. Her life touched the lives of so many others. I was honored to call her my "pink sister" and my friend. Even though we never met in person, she greatly impacted my life. Please continue to pray for Christina's family in the days ahead. It will be so hard for them to go on living without her, but God has a plan. He had a great purpose for her pain. Her struggle will not be wasted.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Please forgive me for the days when I am so weak...for the days I struggle...when I am so exhausted that I all I do is sit and cry. Forgive me when I look inward instead of upward. Forgive me when I feel sorry for myself and when I focus on how I'm feeling instead of what I know to be true. Father, please give me strength to persevere. Please provide a way out when I'm tempted to wallow in self pity. Please send words of encouragement to strengthen me through your Word. Please provide people along my path who will love me in spite of myself and who will be willing to walk this journey with me, helping to hold me up when I just can't do it any more. Father, I want to be strong but I am so weak...please help me in my weakness. I know in your Word you say that when I am weak, You are strong...be my strength, today and always. It is hard for me to thank you for pain, but I will because I know You have allowed it into my life. I thank you that even though I can't see what you are doing, I can trust you because you are trustworthy and true. You are my hiding place. You are my shield and my protector. Thank you that you have not left me to fight this battle alone. In the days ahead, Lord, please give me wisdom to look for your hand. Help me not focus on the pain. Help me not dwell on things I can't change. Please fill my heart with love, even for those who have hurt me deeply, for you call us to love even our enemies. Gracious Heavenly Father, I don't understand why you have chosen this path for me, but please help me be obedient to walk it faithfully with you and to learn the lessons you want me to learn. I know that nothing you do is in vain. Oh Lord, thank you for loving me...for dying for me...for saving me. Thank you for everything you have done for me throughout my life, I am so humbly grateful. I love you, Lord...Amen.

PLEASE NOTE: I have removed some of the photos of Christina out of respect for her family and friends. I did keep one where she was so filled with joy because I wanted my readers to see what a beautiful woman she was. Cancer is a very personal and private matter but as survivors, we want our stories to count and I think Christina would have been pleased to know I shared a small portion of her story. She was a very valiant and brave warrior. I look forward to the day I can meet her in heaven.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

“‘Return home and tell how much God has done for you.’ So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” Luke 8:39 (NIV)

As I sat in the church pew with my head bowed in prayer, I heard a voice reverberate so thunderously in my heart that it startled me.
The voice was blaringly loud, as if it had been announced over the loudspeakers. I opened my eyes surprised to see that no one else was taken aback. All was calm.
And so began my encounter with God.
I felt God speak loud and clear a short message that held life-altering repercussions. Three powerful, commanding words: “Go and share!”
I became overwhelmed with emotion. I was awestruck that God had spoken to me at all, but even more so at the three words I heard. Go and share? Go and share what?
Then it hit me. Fear immediately overwhelmed me and I sank into the pew, trembling at what I thought God might be asking. I began to question God, “Surely You can’t mean share my past, Lord. Surely You don’t mean go and share what I prefer to keep secret.” Yet, that is exactly what He meant. And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t want to go, much less share. I didn’t want to be transparent or vulnerable. I gratefully accepted His forgiveness and healing, but I wasn’t ready to accept His call to give me a purpose. The man who was healed from demon possession in today’s key verse experienced similar feelings.
This tormented man lived as an outcast for many years, naked and alone in the tombs of Gadara, near Galilee. When he saw Jesus, he fell to his knees and shouted at the top of his voice, begging for mercy from God. Jesus commanded the demons to leave him and then cast them into a herd of pigs that rushed down the steep bank into a lake and drowned. The man was healed physically, but more importantly, spiritually.
He was so overwhelmed with gratitude for what Jesus had done, he begged to travel with Jesus and stay by His side. But Jesus had other plans. Instead, Jesus told him to go and share his story. And he did.
What had once been a burden to bear became a powerful story of holy transformation. This man’s past, and the healing he experienced, became the foundation of a purpose in life that he would have never imagined — living his life as proof of the life-changing power of Jesus.
The man’s story became a testimony when he was willing to share it with others. How many people believed in Jesus and are now spending eternity with Him simply because this former demon-possessed man willingly allowed his terrible past to become a story of redemption and purpose?
People can deny Christ, dispute Scripture and ignore prophecy, but they cannot deny, dispute or ignore God’s transformational power in someone’s life. Our stories of pain, adversity and overcoming in Christ are meant to serve as a testimony of God’s faithfulness and power, evidence that God really can take what the devil meant for evil and use it for good.
I’ve since learned it is always God’s desire for us to go and share our stories, whether we want to or not.
God never wastes our pain. Only we do that. God has a plan for great purpose and a beautiful future for all who believe in Him. Not despite our past, but because of it.
Lord, help me find the courage and the desire to share what You have done in my life. Turn my past into my purpose and refuse to let my pain be for nothing. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
TRUTH FOR TODAY:
Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (NIV)
Isaiah 61:3, “… to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” (NIV)
- See more at: http://proverbs31.org/devotions/devo/how-god-turns-your-past-into-purpose/#sthash.i0SW7BiO.dpuf

“‘Return home and tell how much God has done for you.’ So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” Luke 8:39 (NIV)

As I sat in the church pew with my head bowed in prayer, I heard a voice reverberate so thunderously in my heart that it startled me.
The voice was blaringly loud, as if it had been announced over the loudspeakers. I opened my eyes surprised to see that no one else was taken aback. All was calm.
And so began my encounter with God.
I felt God speak loud and clear a short message that held life-altering repercussions. Three powerful, commanding words: “Go and share!”
I became overwhelmed with emotion. I was awestruck that God had spoken to me at all, but even more so at the three words I heard. Go and share? Go and share what?
Then it hit me. Fear immediately overwhelmed me and I sank into the pew, trembling at what I thought God might be asking. I began to question God, “Surely You can’t mean share my past, Lord. Surely You don’t mean go and share what I prefer to keep secret.” Yet, that is exactly what He meant. And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t want to go, much less share. I didn’t want to be transparent or vulnerable. I gratefully accepted His forgiveness and healing, but I wasn’t ready to accept His call to give me a purpose. The man who was healed from demon possession in today’s key verse experienced similar feelings.
This tormented man lived as an outcast for many years, naked and alone in the tombs of Gadara, near Galilee. When he saw Jesus, he fell to his knees and shouted at the top of his voice, begging for mercy from God. Jesus commanded the demons to leave him and then cast them into a herd of pigs that rushed down the steep bank into a lake and drowned. The man was healed physically, but more importantly, spiritually.
He was so overwhelmed with gratitude for what Jesus had done, he begged to travel with Jesus and stay by His side. But Jesus had other plans. Instead, Jesus told him to go and share his story. And he did.
What had once been a burden to bear became a powerful story of holy transformation. This man’s past, and the healing he experienced, became the foundation of a purpose in life that he would have never imagined — living his life as proof of the life-changing power of Jesus.
The man’s story became a testimony when he was willing to share it with others. How many people believed in Jesus and are now spending eternity with Him simply because this former demon-possessed man willingly allowed his terrible past to become a story of redemption and purpose?
People can deny Christ, dispute Scripture and ignore prophecy, but they cannot deny, dispute or ignore God’s transformational power in someone’s life. Our stories of pain, adversity and overcoming in Christ are meant to serve as a testimony of God’s faithfulness and power, evidence that God really can take what the devil meant for evil and use it for good.
I’ve since learned it is always God’s desire for us to go and share our stories, whether we want to or not.
God never wastes our pain. Only we do that. God has a plan for great purpose and a beautiful future for all who believe in Him. Not despite our past, but because of it.
Lord, help me find the courage and the desire to share what You have done in my life. Turn my past into my purpose and refuse to let my pain be for nothing. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
TRUTH FOR TODAY:
Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (NIV)
Isaiah 61:3, “… to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” (NIV)
- See more at: http://proverbs31.org/devotions/devo/how-god-turns-your-past-into-purpose/#sthash.i0SW7BiO.dpuf

Time to call in reinforcements

I don't even know where to begin...it's been a really rough week...and I thought I was doing so well. I know I told you I wasn't going to post until Monday but I just had to post today...I promised you I would keep it "real."

Yesterday was probably the lowest day I've had since finding out I had Breast Cancer. I spent most of the day crying and feeling worthless. I was able to hide how I was feeling from my youngest daughter, Jamie, who calls me several times a day...but, when my oldest daughter, Erin, called...the dam broke. I don't really know what she said that triggered it and that doesn't really matter; all that matters is that I realized that I was in big trouble. I was depressed. I was exhausted from not sleeping. I was being bombarded by the enemy and it was time to call in reinforcements.

Erin talked to me for a long time. I don't think she realized, at first, how serious the problem really was, but as we talked...it became increasingly clear to her. She is wise beyond her years, my Erin. She listened and she let me cry it out. I felt so badly for dumping all of my emotion on her...she's only got a couple of weeks left before giving birth to our 8th grandchild...she didn't need this extra added stress...but she let me spill over onto her broad shoulders. The more we talked, the more I saw it. I was sinking into the deep, dark quagmire of depression. This wasn't like me. I'm always so bright and cheerful...so filled with joy. What was going on? What was happening to me?

For months and months I haven't slept. I can't even tell you when the last time I had a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep would have been. Every single night I've had to rely on medication to even get a few hours of sleep. My Oncologist told me that I wouldn't heal properly without sleep so he prescribed a sleeping pill. He warned me not to use it for more than 2 weeks at a time because it was addictive. I was afraid to take it. I didn't want to become addicted to anything, but he insisted. The first week of taking it, I slept for about 6 hours a night but woke up several times to either go to the bathroom or readjust my mountain of pillows or turn down the air conditioner or something. After the first week, I felt like the medication was messing with my head...I wasn't remembering things very well and I didn't like feeling out of control, so I stopped taking it and began taking Benadryl instead. Benadryl is non habit forming, they said on TV. Benadryl worked for a few hours and then I was wide awake. I went like that for a couple of weeks and got progressively more tired, and more emotional. Something had to give. Phil was so tired of me tossing and turning all night long. He said I was about to "bounce him off the bed." I apologized. He said, "it's okay, don't worry about it," but I did. It wasn't just about tossing and turning all night...I could deal with that...I'd dealt with it for many, many nights...I was just really tired.

I read about insomnia and ways to combat it. One suggestion was to have a nighttime routine to prepare your mind and body to be ready for sleep. I began dimming the lights in the house an hour before I planned to go to bed. I turned off the TV and went in and turned down the bed. I tried to read for about 30 minutes to relax my body and hopefully drift off to sleep...I did everything the experts suggested but nothing worked. I began to dread going to bed even though I was so tired.  

I knew my body wasn't healing well. My arms continued to swell and I had no appetite whatsoever...that scared me...it's not normal not to be hungry for something...I didn't want anything...I even had to make myself drink water. I tried napping during the day, but I couldn't sleep. My brain just wouldn't shut off....my thoughts were running rampant through my mind. Every day Phil would come home from work and I would literally fall into his arms and bawl my eyes out because I was so extremely tired. Something had to give and it did...

Sobbing uncontrollably, I listened to Erin as she suggested that my bedtime routine might not be working. Instead of reading, she suggested I write in my journal, dumping all of my thoughts out in one continuous stream of thought...not worrying about grammar...not worrying about filtering anything...just writing...just allowing my thoughts to come forth...just letting them flow. She said I was probably just now being able to process what had actually happened to me since March, now that things had finally slowed down and my radiation treatment was over. That made sense...she was probably right. I hadn't really thought about all I'd been through. I had just been going through the motions...doing what I was told, when I was told. I'd been through a very traumatic experience. My life had been turned totally upside down. Nothing was normal now...everything had changed.

Erin talked to me in a very soft voice...so calming, so reassuring, so filled with love. She seemed to understand exactly what I was feeling...exactly what I was thinking. I know God was giving her the words to say and I was hearing them. I needed to hear them. She was helping me think things through. She suggested I try putting some lavender essential oils on the soles of my feet...lavender is a natural relaxant. I listened. She continued to offer advice and she continued to listen to me pour out my heart. The main thing that hit me was her statement, "you're going to be okay, Mom. It's okay to feel this way." Was I really going to be okay? I thought otherwise...I knew I needed help. I knew I needed reinforcements...that's when I asked for prayer.

I'm a firm believer in prayer. I know the power of prayer. I believe in interceding for others and I needed people to intercede for me. It was time to be raw and real with my friends. It was time to put the pride away and let them know I was really struggling, so I began to reach out. It was late, so I didn't call on the phone, but sent Facebook messages instead. My prayer warriors responded and they began to pray.

At 10:00 p.m., as Phil was watching the end of a TV show, I sat with my journal in another room and recorded one long continuous stream of thought...it filled 3 pages in my journal. I wrote until my hand was cramping and I could write no longer. I felt a little lighter when I finished. At 10:30 p.m. I went into the bedroom and got ready for bed. I put lavender oil on the soles of my feet and slipped on some socks. We adjusted the ceiling fan, turned out the light, and I slid under the down comforter. I offered up a silent prayer, asking God to give me a peaceful night's sleep. I slipped my ear plugs into my ears and slid my eye mask over my eyes. I lay there in silence waiting for sleep to come...and it did.

Around 3:45 a.m. I was awakened by a very vivid dream. I don't remember all of it but in the dream was my daughter, Erin, and myself. We were in a large house somewhere and we were trying to get rid of a snake. I remember distinctly that the snake was a reddish brown pattern and just as she was about to grab it by the tail, it turned and I realized it was a poisonous snake. At that moment in the dream, another snake entwined around the reddish brown snake and although I don't remember seeing it in my dream, I just knew the second snake was going to crush and kill the first snake.

As I got up to go to the bathroom, I realized that dream I'd just had was a spiritual warfare dream....and yes, I do believe in symbolism. God was showing me that my prayer warriors and I were doing battle with the forces of darkness...

I was able to go back to sleep and woke to the sun rising just before 8:00 a.m. I glanced over at Phil, who was sound asleep. I quietly slipped into my robe and gently padded barefoot into my office. I wanted to write about my night.

For some reason, I feel like a huge burden has been lifted. I feel like my nights of sleeplessness are finally over. I feel at peace and I feel rested today and that is a huge blessing! I know my prayer warriors are to thank for their intercession on my behalf.

For some, the power of prayer  has never been unlocked. They believe prayer is just a quick few rote sentences offered before a meal or before bed, but for those of us who have experienced answered prayer...we know that prayer is very powerful and very serious. Prayer is communication with Almighty God...the God who loves us and wants to help us. When we pray, we acknowledge Him...His power and His presence.

It wasn't a coincidence that I had a spiritual warfare dream after asking my friends to pray. Satan always tries to cause deception and confusion. He doesn't want us understand or to tap into the resource of prayer. I know from personal experience throughout my life that God does hear and does answer prayer. It may not always be the way we want Him to respond, but He does respond. Sometimes He answers yes, sometimes it's no, and sometimes it's wait.

I am thankful for faithful friends who share my prayer needs. I am also thankful for the right as sons and daughters of the Most High God that we can come boldly before the throne and present our requests without fear or hesitation. God longs for us to come to Him. He longs to commune with us and all we have to do is open our mouths and speak...

"Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Hebrews 4:16 (New King James Bible)

"And if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests which we have asked from Him." 1 John 5:15 (New American Standard Bible)

Change is in the air

I've been blogging daily since June. This morning, I realized it's time for a change...a change not only in my writing habits, but for change in general. I've decided instead of writing daily, I am going to write only once a week. So today, and from this point forward, I will only write on Mondays. If you've been reading my blog daily, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It means so much to me that you've taken time to stop by and visit each day. I know many of you have read my blog posts and then taken the information I've shared using it to pray for me. Those prayers have been sustaining me so please don't stop, even if I don't post daily. Another reason I've decided not to post daily is for your benefit. Instead of trying to come up with something to write about and possibly boring my readers with trivial posts; I'd rather post once a week and give you lots of good information that will keep you coming back for more. With that being said, I'll begin today's post.

Today, as I sit at my computer, I look out over a chilly, fall morning. Fog hovers over the tree tops wrapping the leaves in a blanket of white. It looks picturesque and still. I love days like this. If I felt better, I'd be hiking right now. Up along a mountain ridge, pack on my back and walking stick in my hand...hearing the familiar crunch of leaves under my feet as I move steadily along. The mountains have been calling me. For days and days, I've heard their gentle wooing. This is the time of year I long to be outside. Just yesterday, in fact, I asked Phil, my husband, if we could drive up to the mountains this weekend, and he, like the good husband he is, said "of course, if I don't have to work next Saturday." My heart was happy to hear his reply and I am already planning our trip.

Just knowing I have the desire to plan something is a sign that I am healing. For months now, everything in my life has revolved around Cancer. My days have been spent going from one doctor's office to another or from one treatment to another, but now, things are changing. Just like the season of Fall, when the leaves are changing, the air turns crisp, and squirrels forage for nuts in preparation for a long hard winter, I can feel a change stirring in my spirit.

The burns from radiation are almost completely healed. There are still faint reminders of that uncomfortable time and they may remain for many more months. I have a wide, deep reddish brown band of color stretching from the center of my breast bone across my chest and around my back. The burns along my neck and collar bone are the most prominent and the least healed, giving me a raw and tender area that needs constant attention. The Silvadene and Radiaplex are doing a good job at soothing the painful burns and I am thankful for those soothing balms.

It will be good to have an entire week without any medical appointments. Maybe I can use this time to catch up on a few art projects I've had lying around or perhaps I'll find a new book to read. I'm supposed to be resting so my body can heal, but it's hard when I want to do so many things.

The swelling in my upper arms is mild upon waking and gets progressively worse throughout the day. This is so frustrating because it impedes my ability to do many physical things. I have the Lymphedema sleeves but I'm not supposed to wear them right now because the fabric rubs against my burned skin and causes irritation. In another few weeks, I hope to be completely healed and will start wearing the compression sleeves and gauntlets daily. While it isn't something I ever expected to have to do, I'm grateful for colorful and fun patterns that help make the sleeves more attractive.

My energy level hasn't returned to normal and that is bothersome. Planning household chores to accomplish each day before noon is a must otherwise they won't get done. There are things I am physically unable to do right now, like cleaning bathtubs and baseboards, but those can wait. That's a huge thing for me to say since I'm such a neat freak and germaphobe. Phil is more than willing to help with any projects, but I try not to ask for his help often. He works hard every day and when he gets home, I just want him to be able to rest and relax.

On the 30th, I'll meet with my Oncologist again. I must admit I am apprehensive about beginning the anti-hormone therapy. The internet can be a dangerous thing, especially for someone with an inquisitive mind. I've Googled every Aromatase inhibitor currently being used for Breast Cancer patients and in particular, I've focused on Arimidex, the one Dr. Feinstein has indicated I will soon be taking. The side effects are scary- fatigue, joint and bone pain, hair loss, severe Osteoporisis, nausea and vomiting, hot flashes, weight gain and more. I have so many questions to ask and am even considering opting out of taking the medication. I would rather have a better quality of life than to spend the next 5 to 10 years in agony.

So, yes, a change is coming. My normal life is gone. And just like the last stanza of Sam Cooke's song, A Change is Gonna Come, I know it's coming quickly. Just like the Fall leaves, which will soon loosen their grip and fall to the ground, I have to let go. Winter is around the corner with its frosty fingertips poised and ready.

This coming Saturday, I'm pulling out my hiking boots and jacket. We'll pack a picnic lunch and take off for the mountains. We'll spend the day tromping through piles of leaves and over fallen logs alongside mountain streams and I will be in heaven! I feel most at peace and closest to God when I am out in the woods alone with Him. My heart will be encouraged and refreshed, and when the day is done, we'll drive back home with happy hearts knowing that change is good...nothing remains the same...a change is gonna come.

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

"There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will."

Sam Cooke's song: A Change is Gonna Come

Good Distractions

This weekend, my sweet daughter, Jamie, came to stay with us. It's always fun to have Jamie come and visit. Her youthful energy explodes as she enters the front door. Oh, how I've missed that! She doesn't get to come as often as she'd like since she lives a good distance away. I'm thankful she comes when she can and she always makes a point of only wanting to spend time with me while she's here. She doesn't come with a pre-planned agenda of going shopping or sightseeing or anything like that...she's just happy to be here spending special moments with her Mama. She doesn't know how much that means to me and yes, she's my baby.

Each of my four children are very different. My son, Dave, is the oldest. He's quiet most of the time but has a very funny sense of humor, the kind that sneaks up on you. He's like a still pond, where the waters run deep. He doesn't share his feelings often, but he is very pensive. He's an incredibly hard worker and has worked two jobs for years to provide for his family. He's a dedicated husband and a devoted father. I am so proud of him. My daughter, Erin, is the second born. She and I are so much alike in many ways. She's a wonderful wife and mother. She homeschools three little ones and will soon grace us with another grandchild. She is like a mountain stream, constant and flowing. She is full of wisdom and encouragement. Then there's Laura, my third child. She is strong, determined, and independent. She started life that way as a kicking and screaming newborn. She is a good wife and doting mother. She is my responsible one, the one who is always willing to be at the ready when needed. And last but not least, there's Jamie, my soon to be 27 year old baby. Jamie is soft hearted and kind. She is easily hurt. She has a heart of mercy and like me, is always pulling for the underdog. Each of my children have character traits that remind me so much of myself but each of them are so very different. They are all wonderful! They are such blessings and I am so proud of each of them.

When I look at my children, though they are 38, 32, 30, and almost 27, I still see them as they were when they were younger. Maybe all mothers do this, I don't know...but I long to hold onto those childhood years...the ones that pass by so quickly. Where did the days go? How did they slip away so fast? One moment they were running barefoot through the house giggling and laughing...the next they were grown with little ones of their own. Life moves too quickly and that's one reason, I treasure the special moments I get to spend alone with each of my children. I'm afraid that too soon, those moments will disappear forever.

Last night we celebrated Jamie's 27th birthday a few days early. We had a nice dinner followed by cake and ice cream. As I lit the candles on her cake and prepared to snap a photo as she blew them out, I was filled with emotion. Just a few months ago, I had wondered if I would be here for her birthday, for Thanksgiving, and for Christmas. Cancer does crazy things to your mind. Now, as I watched her pucker up to blow, I was so thankful. I was thankful that I had lived and thankful that I was able to celebrate another milestone in her life.

After we'd had our dessert, we decided to watch a movie together...sweet family time...just Phil, Jamie and I...a simple pleasure. Jamie chose the movie for us, a fairly new release, "The Fault in Our Stars." The movie was about teenagers going through various types of Cancer and how even in the midst of such pain and tragedy, they found love. The movie was thought provoking and a little difficult to watch, especially since I had just recently completed my radiation treatments for Breast Cancer.

One character in the movie, "Gus," was filled with such positivity and reminded me that no matter what my circumstances, I should always choose to be happy. As Gus and "Hazel Grace," the main character of the movie, intertwined their life stories, it was interesting to note that love indeed does conquer all. The story doesn't end the way you think it will and I won't give away the ending for those who haven't seen it yet, but it was a tear jerker. Jamie, Phil, and I were all sniffling by the time the movie ended. The movie made us realize that life is fleeting and we need to savor moments with those we love.

In the movie, there's one scene in particular where Gus, who has Osteosarcoma, puts an unlit cigarette to his lips. Hazel Grace, dying of lung cancer, looks at him in disgust and says, "how could you?" Gus smiles and says, “It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.” What a profound statement. It really made me think. Since my diagnosis of Breast Cancer, I had given it power. I had given it power to steal joy in my life. I had given it power to invoke fear in my life. Now it was time to take that power back. God reminded me that only He is the one who decides when my life is over. Only He knows the number of my days. So, instead of wondering and fearing that I will miss special moments with my children or grandchildren...instead of fearing that I won't be around for the holidays, I am going to just choose life. I am going to live as long as God will allow me to live and when it's time for me to go, I'll be ready.

Thank you, God, for my beautiful, wonderful children...for blessing me beyond measure...for keeping them safe and growing them up into marvelous, healthy, happy adults. Thank you for reminding me that I had given away power that wasn't mine to give...that I had allowed fear to overwhelm me at times but just like Gus in the movie, it was just a metaphor and now that killing thing, the Cancer, had been removed from my life by surgery and zapped by radiation. It was also going to be doused with anti hormone drugs that would render it powerless to multiply and grow inside me. It can only have the power to kill if God allows it to have that power, and I am trusting Him for complete healing.

There will be days when the fear tries to rear its ugly head and when it does, I'm going to remember the quote from the movie..."It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.” Fear only has power when we give in to it, so it's my job to fight the urge to give in.

Jamie left this morning. She had a Sunday School class to teach. The topic of her lesson was on love and how Christ commands us to love even our enemies. I'm so proud of her. She's my baby and even when she turns 27 on Wednesday, I'll still see her as my little girl. Love makes life so precious!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which 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 get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, 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 of war, and a time of peace." Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Love is all that matters

Today I was thinking about all I've gone through this year and the thoughts were overwhelming. As I began to recount one event after another, I asked God to help me understand why each thing had come into my life. In my heart, I felt Him saying, "I have much to teach you, and you have much to learn." Much to learn...yes, I have so much to learn.

In my 56 years of life, I have learned many things, some practical, helpful things and some very valuable life lessons. But of all the things I've learned to date, I have to admit the most valuable lesson I've ever learned is that love is really all that matters. The kind of love I speak about is not a romantic type of love, it's an unconditional love...the love of Christ.

There are so many people in my life who've taught me different aspects of love, but today, I'd like to focus on my father in law, Carl Annis, who went home to be with the Lord many years ago. Dad was a very godly man, a gentle and quiet man...one who loved unconditionally. He was always willing to help others, always giving, always kind. He was a dedicated husband and father. He had a huge servant's heart and was always at the ready whenever the church needed him for building repairs, to serve meals to ESL students, or to minister Christ's love to the hurting. He was an exemplary citizen. He was a veteran of World War II. He served in the Marines, the Air Force, and the Army National Guard. He accomplished many things in his lifetime, but the most important of all was his ability to show love.

During the autumn of his life, Dad became very ill. What we originally thought was Bell's Palsy, became Parotid Gland Cancer. Valiantly, Dad endured surgery and radiation treatments. We watched this strong and vibrant man brought low by something he could not control. As the cancer pervaded his body, he fought hard. He did everything the doctors told him to do and even at his weakest moment, he still focused on love.

On the day we realized Dad was going to leave this earth, I had the honor and privilege of being by his side. During the last hours of his life, my mother in law, my husband, and I surrounded him with our love. We sang some of his favorite hymns, we prayed over him, and when I asked Mom what his favorite verses of Scripture were, she said, "1 Corinthians 13." That chapter is known by Christians as the "Love Chapter."

I turned to the book of 1 Corinthians in Dad's old leather bound Bible and began to read to him, "If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:1-13

It was so difficult to read that passage because as I was reading, I was watching my sweet Father in Law's face. His eyes were closed but he was listening. I felt so much love wash over me at that very moment. Not only love from my dear Father in Law, but the love of my Heavenly Father surrounding me with His peace. Love is a multi faceted emotion. It can be so hard to endure, especially at tender moments like death. It can be so overpowering that it is almost too much to handle. I've experienced the power of love when it's blossomed with joy and when it's provided soft closure in the homegoing of a loved one. 

Dad taught me that truly, love is all that matters. As Cancer came to visit me this year, I couldn't help but think about the lessons Dad taught me. There are so many worries and fears associated with Cancer and Satan takes advantage of playing mind games using those weapons to challenge our thinking. But there is a power much greater than fear and that is the power of love. The Bible says that perfect love casts out fear. "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." 1 John 4:18 Dad taught me how to fight Cancer. He taught me how to be brave. He taught me not to give in and not to give up. He taught me to have hope. 

The greatest lesson I could ever share with my children and grandchildren would be the true lesson of love. The Bible speaks so much about love and my hope is that I can be an example of that unconditional love through this last part of my life. I know I've made many mistakes in my life. I haven't always loved well. Sure, I've tried my best, but I just haven't gotten it right...but there's hope for me yet because, the Bible also says "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins" 1 Peter 4:8 My most heartfelt prayer is that I will be found faithful, that I will end my life by loving well. Someday, when others speak of me and of my life, I hope they will remember how I loved for nothing else will have mattered.

God is still teaching me how to love the way He wants me to love. He's showing me how to see through His eyes and how to live out 1 Corinthians 13: 1-13. It has not been easy, but through His gift of Cancer, He is showing me daily new aspects of that little four letter word, love. John Lennon, had an tiny inkling of what love was about when he wrote the chorus to his song, "All You Need is Love."
"All you need is love... All you need is love... All you need is love, love... Love is all you need."
But John didn't understand it nearly as well as my Father in Law did and he certainly didn't understand it as Christ did. The Bible also says in one of the most profound verses of all, God is love. "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." 1 John 4:8

I am honored to be a student of love and I am thankful for the many, many teachers God has chosen to give me during my lifetime. Dad was just one of the very instrumental people who have taught me well through their own personal example of living a life that honored and pleased God. It would take me pages and pages to list all the people who've crossed my path sharing lessons on loving. God has used each of them to help me come to a deeper understanding of not only the real meaning of love; but of who He is and the way He wants us to live. 

Love is a precious gift and is most precious when we give it away. Dad knew this truth so well and he did an excellent job at giving it away, not only to his family, but to all those he met during his life. To a great man of God, Carl R. Annis, I dedicate this post. You are loved and you are missed, but you will never be forgotten.   

©bonnie annis all rights reserved  

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God." 1 John 4:7

Dear Tumor

Dear Tumor,
This letter is long overdue, but today, I felt like I needed to tell you how I really feel. You entered my life sometime in the past, the exact date I'll probably never know, but you made your presence known that cold, March morning. I'll never forget the day I found you taking up residence inside my right breast...like an alien invader, you had planted yourself firmly and spread your tentacles deep inside.

Before we met, my life was good...no, it was more than good, it was blessed! I was happy, healthy, and whole. I was living my life to the fullest and enjoying every minute of it. I ate well, I played hard, I never expected you to come and disrupt my life, but you did. Before you came, I was the wife to an adoring husband, the mother to four very unique children, and the grandmother to seven wonderful blessings. I thought about the future and had so many plans...places to go, things to do, and people to love.

On June 5, at 4:25 p.m., I learned of your evil. The doctor's words, "it's probably nothing but a cyst" were untrue. When I heard your true name, "Cancer," I cringed. My whole world crumbled in an instant. I think my heart even skipped a beat, I'm almost sure of it. So many things changed in a split second and all because of you.

In July, I learned your name, Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, such a big name for such a small tumor. But you were powerful. You had already grown and become stage 2B. I was determined to learn more about you and so, I Googled you. I read books about you. I asked questions about you. I came to know you well. When they said you were invasive, they weren't kidding! You invaded every part of my life. I was afraid of you and your potential. I just knew you were going to destroy every relationship I knew. How would my husband handle this? How would my children cope? Would my grandchildren understand? Suddenly, everything I knew became fragile. I cried myself to sleep at night. I whispered soft prayers asking God for healing.

Even after you were cut out of my body, I still felt your presence. You left your fingerprints everywhere. I tried so hard to erase you. I wanted to forget you. I wanted my life back. No matter how hard I tried, my life wasn't the same any more. It was different, and all because of you. But then I realized, you were a gift.

You taught me to live from moment to moment treasuring each one as an undiscovered blessing. You taught me that I had taken so much for granted before you came. You helped me learn to put things into perspective.

Before you came, I never considered my own mortality. Sure, I knew that one day I would die, but I didn't dwell on it. Thanks to you, I have been faced with my mortality daily. I understand that I am not promised tomorrow. You've given me the gift of learning Carpe Diem, to seize the day! Each morning I wake, I am thankful just for the gift of waking. I treasure things now that I didn't before, and I stopped placing value on things that shouldn't have it.

So today, tumor, I'd like to thank you for all you've done for me. You've completely changed me, both physically and mentally. You've left an indelible mark on my body and on my soul. I know you were chosen specifically for me by a loving God who planned to use you to teach me much. Yes, I am still learning and I know I will continue to learn in the days ahead. So thank you for the valuable lessons you've given me thus far.

My prayer, dear tumor, is that I will never see you again as long as I live. Hopefully, the radiation has killed every rogue cell that branched off of you and traveled through my body. Now, as I begin the healing process, I am still cognizant that you came to visit. While I'm thankful you came, I want you to know I wish I'd never met you. I wish there was a cure for you and others like you so none of my friends or loved ones would ever have to know you. Can I ask you a favor? Will you please promise to never touch the lives of our family again? Will you stay far away from those I love? Will you?

It has taken many months for me to be able to speak to you, tumor. It has taken me a long time to realize you were not just an evil invader, but a blessing in disguise. God has continued to whisper, "Trust Me," to my heart daily, and I do. I know that He is with me and even if you do come to pay me another visit, He has promised to never leave me.

I pray I never encounter you again, but I will offer you my humble gratitude. Without you, I would never have understood fully who I am in Christ. I would never have realized how much I took for granted. I would never have gained new insight and hope. So thank you, dear tumor, for blessing me. Though I will never know completely the reason you were chosen; I trusted God in your coming. He knows best what is necessary in our lives. All I can do is trust whatever method He chooses to teach me.

Gratefully yours and Humbly His,
Bonnie Annis

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Patient in affliction

Oh how wonderful it was to sleep late this morning. Just knowing I didn't have to get up and get ready for radiation was a huge blessing. Finally my skin could begin to heal and I hoped it would hurry up, because it's really gotten bad over the last few weeks. The burns on my neck are much more painful right now than the ones on my chest. (Did you catch that...I just said, I hoped it would hurry up...)

As I started to get out of bed, I heard this scripture in my mind -

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”

Romans 12:12

Be patient in affliction...patient. BE patient. BE PATIENT IN AFFLICTION. Okay, Lord. What are You telling me here? Have I not been patient over the last several months of treatment? Have I been impatient? As I continued to seek Him, He continued to impress upon my mind the need to be patient. 

As a believer, I know my life will be filled with various trials. In fact, it's a given. His Word tells me in the book of 1 Peter that I shouldn't be surprised when I face trials that come to test me. But my response to the affliction or trial is a clear indicator of the depth of my love for God. This was really disheartening to me to realize because my response to affliction, trials, and difficult days was not a response that often pleased the Lord. More often than not, I found myself complaining. When I was in pain, I didn't respond first with a calmness and a patient heart...I griped and complained. After all, isn't that our nature as humans? We want others to share in our suffering? We want them to know and understand the intensity of our pain? We moan and groan hoping for sympathy. That was not the epitome of patience. Patience is long suffering. Patience waits in surrender. Patience. Did I even have any?

As I thought about how I should respond to afflictions, my thoughts turned toward 2 men in the Old Testament.  Job, of course, immediately came into my thoughts.  He is known for his patience during unbelievable circumstances. I've written about him in my posts before. Whenever a Christian experiences suffering, 9 times out of 10, solace can be found by studying the book of Job. Job must have been an amazingly strong man of faith. He lost his children, his livestock, his health and yet he never cursed God.  Scripture tells us that Job was “blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil.”  He was not a bad person, he loved God and lived his life to God’s glory.  So when his life fell apart, if anyone had a reason to say, “I don’t deserve this, this is not fair!  It was Job.  But, he didn’t do that.  He knew that his God loved him deeply and even if he never gained back all that he'd lost, he would always love his God.  Do I love that deeply?  Can I be as patient as Job?  Can I say, “If you take it all away, I will still love you and live for you?"  I really can’t honestly answer that.  I would like to think that I could, but I don’t know.  I know that my family has lost things that we once thought were "great," but looking back, we realized they were not so "great."  So there was really no loss.  Job experienced great loss and yet he remained patient in his affliction and God restored all that he had lost and blessed him twice as much.

Next I began to think about Joseph, the 11th son of Jacob.  His brothers were very jealous of him as he held the favor of his father.  They sold him into slavery where he ended up in Egypt.  His father Jacob was a godly man.  Though his sons were not as upright as Jacob, God still used them to build Israel.  But God set Joseph apart from the rest in order to fulfill a very special plan.  After Joseph had been sold into slavery he was sent to be a servant in the house of the Captain of the guard.  This was a great start for Joseph, until Potiphar's wife decided she wanted him for herself.  She was a very deceptive woman and had the trust of her husband.  She lied to him saying that Joseph tried to take her to bed and Joseph was sent to prison.  He stayed there for 2 years.  Genesis 39:21 says, “while Joseph was in prison, the Lord showed him kindness and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden.”  It says over and over that the Lord was with Joseph…in prison. So, I began to think...if I were Joseph, I would just want out of there.  I would never want to remain in prison, even if I had a fantastic job. I don't think I would have exhibited any patience! I would want out! But, Joseph never asked God to get him out of prison even though he was there for 2 long years. He had a lot of time to think about himself and about God.  He was stuck in a pagan land and his God was all he had.  He could either believe that his God would deliver him, or he could lose all hope.  He could be patient in his affliction or he could try to figure things out himself.

The deeper my walk with Christ, the more aware I am of the reality that no matter the reason for the affliction, my patience and trust in the midst of it teaches me more about the greatness of God than anything else.  Learning to embrace my suffering rather than trying to run away from it brings me into a deeper understanding of the sovereignty of God. I am blessed when I am patient in my afflictions. I experience God in ways that I would not if I did not choose this response.  I am loved by the faithful God of Job and Joseph...the God who never left them, but prospered them because of their trust and love.

I'm not always patient in my afflictions but I'm trying.   Lord forgive me for wanting instant relief from my pain. Help me in my weaknesses! Help me keep my heart searching for Your truth and Your hope. Oh how I long to be joyful in hope and patient in my affliction. Thank you for always loving me even when I struggle to be patient. Help me to remember you have a purpose for allowing me to suffer...that You have chosen to allow this for my own good. Father, thank you for always being strong when I am so very weak. Thank you for loving me through good times and through difficult times. You are so gracious and so merciful toward me even when I don't deserve it. Thank you, most of all, for sending your Son, Jesus, to suffer and die for me...just to partake in a tiny portion of His sufferings helps me understand the magnitude of the great sacrifice He made for me.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Zapping is a thing of the past!

This morning, I woke up early and jumped into the shower. I was so excited to know that this would be my very last day of radiation treatments. I dried off, got dress, and quickly blew my hair dry. It was going to be a great day! I donned my makeup and tiptoed into the living room. Laura, my daughter, and Heather, my granddaughter were still sleeping....or so I thought. I was surprised to see them already awake.

I made some waffles for Laura and I as she fed the baby her oatmeal. We enjoyed our breakfast and some light morning conversation before it was time for me to leave for the clinic. Happily, I waved goodbye and headed out.

As I was driving to the clinic, I was overcome with emotion. Yes, I was ecstatic that this was the last time I'd ever have to lie underneath that ugly, monstrous linear accelerator while it shot beams of radiation into my body but, I wasn't prepared for the next set of emotions that overtook me as I drove on. Suddenly, I felt fear. How was I going to deal with not having the routine of daily treatments? How was I going to feel without that "special attention" that the nurses and radiation therapist had been giving me for the past 7 weeks? They had become my new friends and now, I wasn't going to see them any longer. I wasn't going to have anyone to talk to during the day on a face to face basis. That was going to be an adjustment. Then I began to feel sad. I was sad to know that I'd be alone again. I was also feeling apprehensive. Now that radiation was over, I would move into the next phase of treatment which meant spending time with the oncologist. That would mean regular visits for blood work and PET scans. When would it ever end?

I arrived at the clinic and saw the daily newspaper laying on the coffee table in the waiting room. I picked it up and looked inside. There inside the front section was a huge article that had been written about me! I had talked with a journalist last week and he'd interviewed me for an article in the October community section of the paper. They were doing a series on breast cancer patients. After reading the article, I noticed several errors but it was too late to worry about those now that the article was in print. Taking the paper up to the receptionist's window, I checked in and asked if they'd seen the paper this morning. The receptionist and her coworker replied they had not seen the paper, so I handed it to them. I told them to look on page 6 and they'd see an article about me. It was fun to watch them as they read it.

When it was time for me to go back for my treatments, every single member of the staff congratulated me for this being my last treatment day. They were genuinely happy for me and each of them gave me a hug as I passed by. I felt like a celebrity!

Lying underneath the "big stink eye" as I liked to called the linear accelerator, I counted off the seconds for each section of my treatment. For some reason, the treatment seemed to go by faster than normal today and I was so happy! Before I knew it, the techs had come into the room and told me I was all done. Three sweet ladies told me they'd miss me and that they hoped I'd do well with the rest of my treatments. The nurse called me into a room and went over my aftercare instructions and set up a followup appointment. Then she handed me my "graduation" certificate.

As I walked out of the office, my heart was light. Finally, I'd finished this phase of my journey. Robotically, I got back into my car and drove home. As I drove, I created a mental check list: surgery, check. Recovery, check. Radiation, check. Healing...still working on it. Anti hormone therapy...still to come. Oncologist, 2 weeks. Radiation Oncologist 3 weeks. Breast Surgeon, 7 weeks...appointments, appointments, appointments. Test, and more test...when will this every truly be over??? I don't know. I would imagine I'll be following up with someone or other for the next year or so and then...what happens after that?

I was making my brain tired so I had to stop thinking. Let's back up and just take one moment at a time...that's about all I can handle well at this juncture anyway. So, I looked down at my feet and realized that I was in the car on my way home. That was a good place to be...going somewhere I knew well...the place where I was most loved...home...where I could feel safe and cared for...home. That's when I realized that old saying, "there's no place like home" is so very true...and I could hardly wait to get there! And that's when Matthew 6:34 popped into my head "So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today." Yep. Just focus on today...right now...right where I am. That's enough, yep...that's plenty.


©bonnie annis all rights reserved

Cancer cards?

Waiting for my prescriptions to be filled, I browsed the greeting cards. I was looking at the various categories and wondering if there were any cards geared specifically toward cancer patients. Most of the cards I'd received in the mail, since being diagnosed,  were the standard "get well" cards and I remembered how I felt when I received the first one. Of course, the sender was just trying to convey her love and concern, but a "get well" card seemed kind of trite at the onset of my disease. Some of my friends had taken time to make cards with heartfelt sentiments enclosed and those were among my most treasured ones. The more I looked, I realized there were no cards specifically for cancer patients...what a shame!

I thought perhaps someone should make a line of cards primarily for breast cancer patients, but if they did, what would they say? Humor would probably be the best route to take when approaching such a serious subject. But even so, how would one begin? "Hair today, gone tomorrow?" That would be appropriate for a chemo patient or what about "bald is beautiful?" The more I thought about it, the more I realized it would be difficult to come up with a line of cards that was caring, kind, and appropriate. 

If I were to write a line of cards, I would write from a personal perspective. Since I've actually experienced breast cancer, I think I could do a pretty good job. For a newly diagnosed patient, I would make a card that said something like "I know you never expected to hear you have cancer, and no one but you can understand exactly how your life changed the moment you heard those dreaded words; but on days when you feel bad, when the cancer treatments make you sick and tired, when you feel like you can't cope, I want you to close your eyes and imagine I'm there with you, giving you a hug, then I want you to call and tell me what's going on. I'm your friend. I'm listening. I want to help." Now that would be a card that I would have liked to have received myself! One that really came from the heart. Maybe it would be better to keep it a little lighter and to the point..."Don't wait for the storm to pass, just dance in the rain..." or how about really short and to the point..."CANCER SUCKS!"

Card writing is certainly not my forte, but I do believe there is a need for a line of cancer cards. Since I love to write, maybe I'll put on my thinking cap and start coming up with my own line of greeting cards. I'm sure they wouldn't sell in major department stores, but I could always make them one by one and send them out to people as the need arises. Scrapbooking and papercrafting are among many of my favorite hobbies!

The final card in my new series would be one picturing a glamorous couple as they are ballroom dancing. On the back of the man's tux would be block letters N.E.D. The title for the card would be "Dancing with NED." Do you know what N.E.D. stands for...no evidence of disease! That's one dance that all breast cancer patients want to take! Those words, "you're dancing with N.E.D." are prized words that every breast cancer patient wants to hear come from their doctor's mouth. N.E.D. is like a "get out of jail free card" but instead of it being in the game of "Monopoly," it's in the real game of "LIFE." On the inside of the card, I would have to put "CONGRATULATIONS! in big bold letters. I don't know when I'll receive that card myself, but I'm hoping it will be very soon. If someone doesn't send me one in the mail when I am diagnosed as N.E.D. I'll just make a card and send it to myself :) Greeting card sentiments need to be full of positivity and hope and that would would definitely fit the bill.

©bonnie annis all rights reserved