We have so much to be thankful for!

Well, tomorrow's the big day! Turkey day...Thanksgiving. The day most Americans gorge themselves on turkey and all the trimmings. Each year, as Thanksgiving approaches, I'm filled with nostalgia. Memories of my childhood are close at hand and I can almost hear the sound of dishes clinking together as we passed the food around the table.

I remember seeing Mama tiptoe down the stairs in the wee hours of the morning to put the big bird in the oven. She'd always get up around 4 or 5 a.m. to be sure the bird would be done in time for lunch. After she'd slip it into the oven, she'd quietly pad back up the stairs to catch a few more winks before the household was awake. There was nothing better than smelling roast turkey wafting through the air. My stomach would begin to growl at the very thought of it and oh, how delicious that bird would be covered in Mama's homemade turkey gravy. Those were the days. When everything was ready and it was just a little after 12:00 noon, Mama would call us in to say grace. Daddy, Grandmother, my brother, sister, and I would pull up our chairs and we'd all sit around the table talking and eating. It was wonderful! Back then, I didn't realize how fast those years would slip away. I didn't realize how things would change after Grandmother and Daddy were gone and now, Mama is in a nursing home. 

This morning, I got up early and mixed up the cornbread for my dressing. As I pulled out the ingredients, I remembered I'd given my cast iron skillets away to my daughters and I didn't have even one...what to do, what to do. Cornbread doesn't taste as good baked in a regular baking pan. There was no way it was going to have that wonderful, golden crust. It was tradition to bake it in an iron skillet just like Mama and Grandmother used to do. But alas, I'd have to make the best of it since I didn't have my cast iron skillet any longer. A regular baking dish would have to suffice. I gathered the ingredients necessary to make the cornbread and poured them into the baking dish, turned on the oven and waited for it to preheat. While the oven was coming up to temperature, I decided to go ahead and chop up my onions and celery. Thank goodness I have a food processor. I remember how difficult it was to chop all of those things by hand back in the day. Now, instead of it taking twenty or thirty minutes to wash and chop 3 onions and a large head of celery, I could have it done in just a couple of minutes. I'm thankful for modern conveniences like kitchen appliances. 

The timer beeped telling me the oven was ready. As I slid the pan of cornbread in to cook, I could almost see, in my mind's eye, Mama pulling her big iron skillet of cornbread out of the oven. She always struggled to hold that big, heavy cast iron pan with her small, delicate hands but somehow, she managed. When she made her dressing, she never followed a recipe but I watched her and I learned all the secret ingredients.

There was always an abundance of food on our table at Thanksgiving. Although we didn't have much monetarily, Mama always found a way to make Daddy's paycheck stretch just enough to feed all of us. As a child, those are things you take for granted but as an adult, I look back and marvel. By the world's standards, we were very poor but how can you put a price on love? Everything we had was precious. We didn't have luxuries, only necessities, and often times, we didn't have those. At Thanksgiving, Mama always reminded us how blessed we were and how we should never take anything for granted. I remember her words well and have tried to instill them into my own children's hearts. 

The smell of my cornbread filled the kitchen. I knew it would be time to take it out of the oven soon. Today I'd prepare one dish after another to take to my daughter's house for our gathering tomorrow. When the timer sounded, I took my potholders out of the cupboard and removed the hot, delicious cornbread from the oven. Placing it on the counter to cool, I moved on to my next task. 

I gathered my container of sage, the salt and pepper, and cans of chicken broth. I'd mix up the dressing after I'd cooked a couple of pans of biscuits and the cornbread had completely cooled. I don't have a recipe for my dressing either. I've just stored it up in my memory bank and pull it out every year just before Thanksgiving. I made a mental note...one of these days I need to write it down to pass on to my children. They aren't ever around to watch me make it and learn what goes into it. I don't want our family traditions to slip away. 

Later in the day, I'll mix together my special Hashbrown casserole and my fresh cranberry/orange salad. One of my daughters will make the sweet potato casserole this year along with green bean casserole. It seems we have the same things every year but that's what makes it special. Memories of our family gathered around a full table always provide such joy. 

My husband is going to kill me! I need him to stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things that I've forgotten. I shoot him a text and pour on a little sugar coating to make it more palatable. "Honey, could you please run by the grocery store and pick up..." He always responds positively and I love him for that. Even if he doesn't really want to do it, he does. He's so good to me. I'm so thankful for him. Until I get the other ingredients, my cooking is at a standstill. I decide to make wise use of my time and head into my office. 

Pulling up my emails, I find a nice surprise. I've received a notification from a cancer magazine telling me they're sending me a check for a recent article I'd submitted. It's really real! My first check for my writing will be coming soon! I'm an official, bonafide freelance writer! Oh, I've been writing for years and years, but this will be the first time I've actually been paid for my work. It's so nice to be able to do something I enjoy and reap the benefits from it at the same time. I'm thankful God has blessed me with the ability and desire to write. 

Next, I decide to check Facebook. Every day my friends share about their lives through this giant social media network. Sometimes it's overwhelming to peruse their pages. It seems their lives are so much more full than mine but then again, I'm thankful for my life. I'm reminded, as I read through their posts, just how very blessed I am. Last year at this time, I wasn't sure I'd be around for the holidays. I'd been diagnosed with Stage IIB Invasive Ductal Carcinoma, a type of aggressive breast cancer that had metastasized into my lymph nodes. I was expecting to become very sick and die, but God had other plans. After my treatment and a time of extreme radiation fatigue, I got better. I am so thankful I've been doing well physically despite a few daily challenges like tiredness, swelling, and general malaise. Last year, my Thanksgiving celebration, though quiet and peaceful, wasn't something I really spent a lot of time dwelling on...this year is a different story.

As I spend the day before Thanksgiving cooking and preparing my favorite dishes, I'll travel back to sweet childhood memories. I'll remember the days of my youth with fondness and pleasure, savoring the holiday joy from years past. I'll count my many blessings from days long gone and add to them blessings from the present. As I mix and stir, blend and spread, I'll commit the sights, sounds, and smells to memory. I want to be sure I'll be able to recall them at a later date when I need them. 

Tonight, when I go to bed, I'll drift off to sleep thinking about spending time with family tomorrow. I'll miss the ones who've gone on before me and I'll look forward to spending time with the loved ones still present. 

Thanksgiving. What a great holiday! Of course, every day we should give thanks to our Creator for all the wonderful blessings He's bestowed upon us, but isn't it wonderful we have the tradition of celebrating with family on this special day of the year? We have so much to be thankful for and I don't ever want to take any of those blessings for granted. 

There's a special quotation I'd like to share here that sums it up pretty well: 

"I am grateful for what I am and have. My thanksgiving is perpetual…O how I laugh when I think of my vague indefinite riches. No run on my bank can drain it, for my wealth is not possession but enjoyment.” ~ Henry David Thoreau. 

As you celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow, think about your past but don't forget to be fully present in the moment. New memories await you. Do your best to count your blessings and be truly grateful. We have so much to be thankful for! God bless you and remember, you can always loosen the top button of your britches to make room for more! Eat up! Laugh! Have fun and celebrate big!

© bonnie annis all rights reserved

Another one gets ready to go home...

In an earlier post, I mentioned a very courageous woman I've met over the internet. Her name is Kara Tippetts and she is a wonderful woman of faith who is in the very last stage of her battle with breast cancer. Every day I check her blog to find out the latest news. Can you believe she's been posting throughout her entire journey? Even when she's been extremely weak and barely able to type, she does it because she wants her followers to be informed. She wants them to stay current on her struggles and she wants them, most of all, to understand her faith.

Kara, when she was first diagnosed, wrote a book about her journey called The Hardest Peace. I thought the title of her book was rather interesting...just the concept of peace being hard caught my attention. I bought and read her book right after I was diagnosed and I was so blessed by reading it. Kara used examples of her faith brilliantly as she wove the story of God's love through her life. I won't share the details of the story with you because you'll want to read it for yourself.

The reason I'm writing this blog post about Kara again is because her story is so close to my heart. Without sounding morbid, I can't help but put myself in her shoes. One day, and only the Lord knows when, I'll be at the point of death...I only hope I can finish as well as Kara will.

Kara with her husband Jason sharing a tender moment

The one lesson I've learned from following Kara's story is this...nothing but love matters. That sounds so simple doesn't it? And really it is simple! Over and over and over the main theme of the Bible is love. As Christians, our lives should so focus on love that nothing else is important. I think Jesus feels the same way otherwise, why would He have emphasized love so much? "…37And He said to him, "'YOU SHALL LOVE THE LORD YOUR GOD WITH ALL YOUR HEART, AND WITH ALL YOUR SOUL, AND WITH ALL YOUR MIND.' 38"This is the great and foremost commandment. 39"The second is like it, 'YOU SHALL LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF.'…" (Matthew 22:37-39)

As Kara's life nears the end, her one last wish is to be able to go to the beach with her family. She and I are alike in our love of the beach. It would also be my last wish. I feel the most close to God when I'm on the beach looking out at the water. Just the vast expanse of the sea overwhelms me. Just knowing that God, in His omnipotent power, not only created the sea but set boundaries to contain it amazes me. He is so much more than we can fathom!

Will you join with me in praying that Kara is able to have her last wish? I'm sure it will be a huge undertaking to have the medical equipment transported over such a distance and it will be a great challenge to work out the logistics for her family. I hope she is able to bask in the sunshine as she looks out at the rolling waves of the sea and feel the glorious presence of her Savior's love. I hope her family will savor every last minute of time they have to spend with Kara and that precious memories are formed.

Kara and her family at the beach before she got so sick

Life is so short, even 60 or 70 years seems to flash by in the blink of an eye...and we are reminded we are nothing but a vapor that disappears. "Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away." James 4:14

Let love be the most important thing in your life. It really is all that matters. 

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

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)