fasting day

Today is "fasting day".  24 hours. Nothing but water and juice and jello and meds.  So many rules.  I'm a rule follower and so lists of rules sort of freak me out a little until I figure them out...yes, I'm a nerd!  [smile]

Had some pain in the night but was able to manage it without meds.  Just rocking and breathing and praying.  It was actually quite peaceful.  Was thinking on "the fasting day" and trying to remember the Biblical value of prayer and fasting... something about focusing on God, I'm sure.  I feel focused.  I feel that the last few weeks, 22 days since "diagnosis day", have been a focused time.  The things of earth were dropped away... not eating, people cleaning my house, grandparents running kids to extracurriculars, really feeling God's presence around me in a unique way.  I've always felt His presence, never questioned it, but this has been a different, precious sort of thing.  Can't quite articulate it, just loving the feeling of it... like when the sun is shining through the window and you find that perfectly warm spot on the couch and just can't help but falling into restful slumber.  I quite like it.  God is good.  All the time.

You know those fake tears in movies... where the actor's eyes aren't even wet but a tears just rolls down.  I've had that.  I've never experience that before this... and it is always in the most peace-filled moments.  I like to think of it as peace washing over me, literally, washing down my cheek.  It is interesting and it is God.  I like it.

Overall, this has been a good experience.  The cancer sucks.  The intensity of pain sucks.  The scary bits suck.  But the peace that comes rushing in is amazing.  And we will all be better for this experience, so that's pretty interesting to watch unfold.  Let's look on this as an adventure, spin it in your mind to the positive.  Let us be bold in proclaiming our love for each other.  Let us be bold in telling the people we care about that we care about them.  Let us be bold in sharing kindness and let us be gracious and gentle with each other.  There are parts of this that are too big for my mind to process, so I cry it out or freak out, but you know, there are so many good parts.  And the freak-outs are surprisingly quick to pass, like a spring rain shower.  Sort of refreshing and then it moves on.

I love hearing of friends of friends who are reading my blog and feeling encouraged.  I love knowing that there have been over 5,000 views of this blog already.  Just think how we are all connected and we are all touching the lives of others we might never have met.  That is pretty darn cool!  You are encouraging people when you encourage me... look at that ripple effect!  Awesome!!!

I am not naive.  I know that this could get a lot, lot, lot harder before it gets easier.  I know that I will not always feel this mellow or positive.  Maybe.  God is pretty miraculous.  My emotional keeping-it-together can be nothing short of a miracle.  Honest.  I'm a door-slamming, chatchki throwing she-devil when I'm angry.  Yep.  Not all sunshine and roses over here... but in this...  I feel quiet.  I feel that the cancer-y stuff is too big to process and to handle on my own, so I just keep laying it down at God's feet.  And I am blessed with a husband who could not be doing this supporting role any better... this guy's prayers get me distracted from my pain and get me on the right track to focusing on God rather than my stupid shoulder or my worries or my scareds.  Please, pray for Shawn.  This man is heartbroken and feeling all the emotions we are all feeling...and he has to watch his wife going through this.  I feel so sad for him.  I feel so glad for him when the pain is managed and I can relief brighten his face. 

Our children are doing... well. 
Our oldest (son1, 14yrs) is starting to show strain from the weight of this unknown.  He wants to be strong for me, to be okay so as not to burden me.  Sweet K, you are good and kind and compassionate and stellar.  And you are a kid.  You can be sad or mad or smile or even still just go outside and laugh and longboard with your friends.  I love your positive attitude that "the tumor is small, they'll just get it out, it's no big deal".  You are amazing, son!   

Our daughter (11yrs next month) is hugging extra any time she leaves the room... more hugs, one last squeeze, "can I get you anything?" "do you need help with that?"  This girl's heart for me has shown itself in a new and precious way in these last few weeks.  She is quite factual and finds solace in the "surgery will remove it" stuff.  I love her combing my hair, though it takes me a LOT of patience cuz she has to learn it and have you ever tried to do someone else's hair in a mirror... tricky! ... or massaging my feet or rushing to get me my ice pack.  Her servant heart has never been so evident to me as now.  This girl will make a great pharmacist or surgeon one day!

Our son3 (turning 8yrs this weekend) is Mr. Actual Factual and isn't too phased by all the emotions around here but is the one to just speak to the elephant in the room... "it's the cancer" or "that's the cancer" is his blurted statement when I am speaking in covert sentences to a visitor.  That kid cracks me up.  I can see that he is starting to feel unsettled by the "things are different" around here, he thrives on routine and our routines are way off right now.  He is sweet and tender and making lots of efforts to say "I love you" and give kisses.  Such treasure to me!

Our son4 (turning 6yrs next weekend) is the emotional barometer around here.  This little person can pinpoint an emotion and will rush to service from about 20 paces!  If I am quiet or sad, without even having let out a sob, this dear one has come to put his hand on my shoulder, or bring me a blanket, or ask, "are you crying?".  How does he do that?!  Just such a tender heart.  I am in awe of his compassion and empathy.

The kids are okay.  We aren't talking about medical stuff or doctor-y stuff too much.  We barely mention the surgery though that will be the topic for family time this after-school... with the ages and stages of the kids, the timing and telling of information (and of how much or what) is the tricky bit.  We don't want them to be scared, but it is unkind to not allow them time to be prepared emotionally for this next step.  Mommy is having a big operation with a big recovery, and that's maybe just the start of more appointments and more treatments and such.  My heart wants them to be spared too much "big" and I want more than anything to guard their innocence and their hearts from being hardened.  I am an individualist... to me this means that I take you as you are, for who you are, in this moment, today.  And that is how I have mothered and raised up these kids.  And that is how I plan to coach them through my cancer.  Please pray for these dear ones.  It makes my heart happy to know how much my...our... Shawn's and my children are loved and supported.

And there is a squirrel on the fence. Just like every other day.  He's hopping across the fence panels.  Tra-la-la.  Just another day. 

May you feel blessed.
Kristin

PS~ Mmmm, I want a sandwich.