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

Weapons of mass destruction

When I was a child, I loved going to Vacation Bible School every summer. It was a time when our church reached out to the neighborhood spreading the gospel of Christ to children who may never have heard the good news before. It was a fun time with games and crafts. It was also a time for memorizing Scripture and hiding God's Word in our hearts. Those dedicated men and women who volunteered their time to teach us will always have a special place in my heart. This morning, one of the songs from VBS popped into my mind:

I'm in the Lord's Army  (sung to the tune of the Old Gray Mare She Ain't what she used to be)
I may never march in the infantry
Ride in the cavalry
Shoot the artillery
I may never fly o'er the enemy
But I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes Sir!
I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!
I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!
I may never march in the infantry
Ride in the cavalry
Shoot the artillery
I may never fly o'er the enemy
But I'm in the Lord's army!
Yes sir!

I remember  that song so well! We would march up and down the aisles of the church singing at the top of our lungs. Little soldiers proud to be part of the army of the Lord. Little did I know that more than 48 years later, I'd still think about that song. As an 8 year old child back then, I was a new Christian and I was just learning how to prepare myself for spiritual battles that would come my way in the future. I'm a very visual person and as we sang our little song, I imagined myself suited up in battle gear...a metal helmet upon my head, a rifle stock in my hand, and heavy leather boots upon my feet. I was ready for action...or so I thought. Childhood games, what fun they were to play back then.

Today, I'm still a visual person. As I lay under the linear accelerator, receiving one of my last 3 doses of radiation, I began to hum "I'm in the Lord's Army." I began thinking, as the beams of radiation were being carefully aimed at my body, about the recent war I'd been engaged in and how my surgery had removed the immediate threat of Cancer when the tumor was taken out. Although the initial threat had been removed, there were surely rogue enemy Cancer cells lurking in my body. The battle raged on but this time, we'd pulled out weapons of mass destruction....radiation that would find those hiding warriors and wipe them out. As I hummed the chorus of the song, I found myself getting louder as I visualized the radiation zapping each and every single Cancer cell that remained in my body.

The radiation tech came in to adjust the machine and she'd walked so softly, I hadn't been aware that she was there. She made a comment about the song I was humming and I had to laugh to myself. She commented that she had never heard someone humming while going through treatment before and that I must be in a really good mood. I told her that I was and that I was just visualizing the radiation doing its work. I found that the more I visualized the radiation obliterating the Cancer, the more positive my thoughts became. Instead of focusing on the negative, the radiation burns, the fatigue, and the pain, I was focusing on how wonderful it was to know that the Cancer was being destroyed.

I couldn't help but think about Vacation Bible School again, but this time, I was remembering the story of David and Goliath. David was a young boy who loved his slingshot. He had practiced shooting it over and over again and had gotten to be pretty good with it. I imagine he used it to kill small birds or knock stacks of rocks over in fun but one day, his good aim took down a huge Philistine giant. Even though David took out the biggest threat, just like my initial cancerous tumor, the rest of the army still had to be dealt with...and that's where the radiation came into play.

Sure, I've had an occasional thought about the possibility of one rogue cell digging in and finding the perfect hiding place only to appear at a later date...but that is just fear taunting me. I remember once reading an acrostic for the word fear and this is what it said:
False
Evidence
Appearing
Real
Even though at times fear can seem to be very real, it has no power over me. My weapons begin in my mind when I hold every thought captive. If I can remember that my mind is where the battle begins, I'll have begun to win the fight even before it gets into full swing. Only 2 more radiation treatments to go...as I buckle up my boots and prepare to march, I know God's already got those radiation beams aimed exactly where they need to go and those nasty stragglers are going to be forced out of hiding and into the light where they can be zapped to kingdom come!

©bonnie annis all rights reserved

"He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world" (1 John 4:4).

"The LORD is my light and my salvation— whom will I fear? The LORD is the strength of my life; of whom will I be afraid?" Psalm 27:1