Welcome Home!

Today I attended the funeral of Steve's Uncle Ken Collard. Uncle Ken was an amazing man, a man of faith and commitment, who lived life well. He was, as his son said, an ordinary man, living an ordinary life in an extraordinary way. His son Tim did the "sermon" part of the funeral, and used as his text Ps. 116:15 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." After talking about what the Bible means by the word "saint", he went on to discuss the question "how can the death of one of His saints be 'precious' to the Lord?" Interesting question, not one I had ever really considered before. When I think about Christians dying, I tend to think about the joy of closing our eyes here on earth and opening them in heaven and how wonderful it will be to actually SEE Jesus. So, basically I think about how precious heaven and Jesus is to us. But our deaths being precious to Him? Hmmm. Tim's explanation really spoke to my heart. He described it as a father welcoming home a child who has been away. Which I understood immediately. This summer, Kristi spent 6 weeks in Europe. She had a blast - London, Paris, Rome, Scotland, she did it all. We were able to stay in touch via phone (land lines and cell), internet (facebook, email, IM) and Skype (many blessings on the person who invented THAT!). Still, I missed her. A LOT. Even though we could communicate with each other and even 'see' each other, if wasn't the same as being face to face. I knew I was going to miss her. Before she even left, I had circled the date on the calendar when she was coming home, putting a big note as to the time. While she was gone, I kept a little countdown going on the wall calendar, each day writing in a number that was one less than the day before. I had a picture posted on the fridge, taken just before she left, of her holding a bunch of travel books that she received for her birthday; under that was her itinerary for the 6 weeks of class, showing the plays, museums and day trips they were going on - I added in the weekend trips that she was taking, and looked each day to see what she would be doing. When she posted pictures on FB, I would pore over them, as much to see her face as to see the places she was visiting. Still, none of that did much to assuage the feeling of missing her. Finally, however, the day arrived - she was coming home!! It so happened that she came home on the Saturday that I was doing the Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk, so I was not able to be at the airport with everyone else to meet her. But family and friends were kind enough to bring her to meet me at one of the cheering stations. And as I gave her the biggest and longest hug EVER, all I could think of was "Finally!! She's here!!!"

Isn't it an amazing thing to think that maybe God has the date circled on His calendar, with a little countdown going in the corner, of how many days until we get 'home'? And that, when we get there, He throws His arms around us, gives us the biggest and longest hug EVER, and says "Finally!! She's here!!!" OK, I know, the finer points of theology would point out that God doesn't experience time like we do, and that He is omnipresent, so He is really right here with us, etc. But Jesus was made 'like us' and physically resurrected after His death. And consider the parable of the prodigal son - what does the father do when the son appears down the road? He RUNS down the road and THROWS his arms around his son and kisses him. Sounds like a "Finally!! He's here!!!" type of moment to me!

The other thing that is comforting about that scenario is that it emphasizes that God knows the date when we will go 'home'. It's arranged, all part of His plan; when we go 'home', it will be because it is exactly the right time. I know that theologically but, somehow, seeing it through this lens of a parent awaiting the arrival of a beloved child and planning for it, well, it just makes it a lot more real, understandable, and comforting.

Soooo......Welcome home, Kristi!
And......Welcome home, Uncle Ken!

Maybe I'm Growing Up?

So, I'm thinking that maybe I'm growing up......at least a little bit. This coming from someone whose Facebook status last Saturday was "Lydia totally turned into a 5 year old and rode her bike through the (lake-sized) puddles on the trail today". This was followed by comments from my husband, a long time friend, and my daughter, all of which basically emphasized that turning into a 5 year old was not a new occurance, but pretty much normal behavior (like the fact that I ride shopping carts in the parking lot, as my daughter helpfully pointed out!)

So, what makes me think I'm growing up a bit? I read a book I disagreed with and didn't throw the book across the room, get mad at the author or just give up on reading it. The book in question is "Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith" by Anne Lamott. I read her book "Traveling Mercies" a couple of years ago and absolutely LOVED it. I loved the topics, her writing style, her personality and the fresh point of view that it brought. I laughed out loud in some spots. Other spots brought me to tears - like when she was describing how she finally came into relationship with God: after years of Him pursuing her, she finally broke down and "gave up" and let Him in. Last year, I found her book "Bird by Bird" (on the topic of writing) and loved it also - same style of writing, and with good insights for those of us who want to "be writers." So, on a visit to Portland, Oregon's "Powell's City of Books", when I found 2 books of hers that I hadn't read AND they were cheap, I bought them both and brought them home with great anticipation.

Then, I began to read "Plan B"........in which she basically castigates President George W. Bush...and the war in Iraq...and any other "Republican" position.......in, like, every other chapter.......with great sarcasm and anger........ (sigh). And in alot of the other chapters, she puts Jesus in a "liberal Democrat" position, highlighted up against the "conservative Republican" position. Your guess who the good guys are!

My usual response would be to get all in a huff about it, and rehearse in great detail (in my head) all the arguments against her positions, and to counter-argue what she would surely argue back. And I would write little sarcastic notes in the margins where I disagreed with her. And certainly put her on my 'black-listed' list of authors.

But I didn't do that. I admit, I still thought about why I disagreed with her comments regarding President Bush and the war in Iraq; my brain still went to responses to her positioning Jesus as she did and why I feel it doesn't do justice to the text of the Bible. But, I didn't write little notes in the margins. I did finish reading the book. I laughed out loud at her unorthodox way of describing coming to middle age as a woman, and at her ability to capture in words the difficulties we experience rasing kids and what happens when they hit adolescence; I cried as she wrote about the struggle she went through coming to the decision to put her Mom in a long-term care facility and the process of forgiving her Mom for, well, alot. I cried when she wrote about friends dying of cancer, and then laughed again at the small pearls of wisdom that her priest friend gives her when she asks for help. In other words, I enjoyed the book. I would probably even recommend it - maybe.

I think this all shows growth. I can disagree with someone without arguing or being disagreeable. That was something one of my professors talked about alot in seminary - disagree without being disagreeable. I am learning that just because I disagree with someone - even on such big subjects as politics and religion - doesn't mean that I can't have a relationship with them. I don't have to spend my time arguing with them, proving that I am right. I know what I believe, I know why I believe it, and I am certainly willing to share that with you. But I don't HAVE to. Which is not to say that I think there is no such thing as right and wrong, or that I am not passionate about what I believe. It's just that I don't need to be like Marty McFly in the "Back to the Future" movies.......every time someone calls him 'chicken', he goes all nutso and tries to prove them wrong. Life goes alot more smoothly when he becomes secure enough not have to prove people wrong, when he figures out that he is not a 'chicken', no matter what others call him. Maybe it's a security/insecurity issue........or maybe it's just growth. I think it's the latter.......but it's OK if you think it's the former :)

And yes, I am about to start reading "Grace (Eventually)", the second book I bought in Oregon.......I'll let you know how it goes! :)

Out of the Blue (Hospital Thoughts - part 2)

"Out of the blue" - something that is unexpected, surprising, unanticipated, unforseen, unplanned.

We have used this phrase several times over the last week to describe the circumstances surrounding Mark's liver transplant: "He was out on the softball field, helping Laurie coach the 9th grade girls softball team when 'out of the blue' he got a call from the hospital, telling him that a liver was available that was a match for him and that he needed to come in for the transplant."

That sentence pretty much gives a perfect example of the definition. I mean, how much more unanticipated could it have been?? Mark was on the softball diamond, and didn't even have his phone on him; it was in the car and the hospital had to call Steve, who called Nathan, who then went and got his Dad. It's not like Mark didn't know that he was on the transplant list. But he didn't expect to get the call until a few years from now. And yet, here it was - right blood type, right tissue match, even the right size. So, ya, getting the call about the liver being available pretty much came 'out of the blue' in the dictionary sense of the word.

But I've been thinking this week that it came 'out of the blue' in a different sense. Over the past few months there have been small, almost undetectable signs that Mark's liver was deteriorating. His color was getting worse; he had gained a large amount of weight over the past 4 months; his MELD scores (indication of liver function) were getting worse; the lymphadema in his legs was getting worse; and he was very tired all the time. But there was no major crisis, like the last time, no obvious sign that things were about to go downhill. We just didn't know.

But there was a phone call, 'out of the blue', saying that a liver that was a match for him was available. And after they completed the transplant, the doctors told us that they expect that if Mark had not received the liver transplant this week, he would have 'crashed' sometime in the next 2 months and been in critical need of a liver immediately. Which, of course, is not really a good thing to need; 1 in 4 patients die while waiting for a liver transplant. But they didn't know that ahead of time. For them, as well as for us, this came 'out of the blue.'

James 1:17 tells us that "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." I think that Mark's liver did come 'out of the blue' - but in the sense that it was a gift from Mark's heavenly Father. He knew all about the deterioration of Mark's liver and how close Mark was to 'crashing,' and, out of His abundant love, grace and mercy, sent him this wonderful gift....truly 'out of the blue'!

Thoughts from the hospital - Part 1

My brother in law Mark was diagnosed with liver failure about a year and a half ago and has been on the liver transplant list since then. Tuesday, out of the blue, a liver that was a match for him became available. He had 20 minutes to make the decision whether or not to accept it and then, once he did accept it, 3 1/2 hours to get to the hospital. As the RN in the family, I have been blessed to be a support for Mark and Laurie in the midst of the medical emergencies they have dealt with over the last few years. So, as they packed and headed out, so did I. We have slept a little and prayed alot, and now it is Friday; Mark has had a new liver for 2 days and he is doing fantastic! I have spent the time hanging out with Laurie and the kids, visiting Mark, translating 'medicalese' into English, interpreting lab results and Dr's comments, and blogging on Mark's Carepages. Just basically being there.

Yesterday, my nephew's wife Jenn said to me "So, how are you doing, Lydia?"
"Oh, I think I'm doing OK" I said. "A little tired, but otherwise doing OK."
She looked at me for a second and then said "You're very 'behind the scenes' but you really make a difference. We don't really notice that you're there, but, if you weren't there, we really would notice.......kinda like the Holy Spirit........He's there, but you don't really notice that He's there, being a Comforter and all......but we sure would miss Him if He weren't there."

I chuckled a bit at that one.......I'm not sure I've ever been compared to the Holy Spirit before!
And I thanked Jenn for the wonderful compliment.......because really, I can't think of anyone else I would want to be like in this situation.

Our conversation brought to mind the verses that were on my heart the day of Mark's surgery: "God has promised 'I will never leave you or abandon you.' So, we can boldly say 'The Lord is my helper, I will not fear....'" (Hebrews 13) Here is just one of the ways I fall way short of the being like the Holy Spirit. Certainly I strive to always be available for Mark and Laurie but I cannot be there for them 24/7; I can help allay some of their fears, but not all of them. Thank God for His promise to never leave, to always be there; it is because of that promise that we can live fear-free lives, even in the middle of such major crises as a liver transplant. I am so thankful for the priviledge of being a small reflection of God's love and faithfulness to Mark and Laurie and their family, and I pray that it will enable them to trust and love Him more.

The Trouble With Jigsaw Puzzles

One morning, several weeks ago, a friend asked me to meet for coffee. She wanted to talk with me about something I had said in Bible study, a remark that had raised some concerns in her mind. We got our coffee and sat down to chat. I was able to clarify what I had said and why I had said it, and it set her mind at ease.

As our conversation drifted to other topics, she commented on the trouble she had had recently with a jigsaw puzzle. Now I am not a big fan of jigsaw puzzles, but I do know the basics of putting them together: start with the corners, then fill in the edges and work towards the middle. My friend is an avid 'jigsaw-puzzle-doer' and, of course, knows all that. And she followed the basics with this one: she started with the corners, then filled in the edges and started working towards the middle. But the further along she got, the more distorted the puzzle looked. The pieces just weren't fitting together the way they should. Finally, in great frustration, she went back to the beginning, inspecting the corners and the edges. What she found surprised her. She had put 2 pieces together along an edge that looked like they fit, but they really didn't - there was another piece that belonged between them. It had looked fine for awhile, but as the puzzle grew, that one little missing piece along the edge threw the whole picture out of whack. It meant going back and undoing some of the puzzle, but once she put the missing piece in, the picture came together properly, without any distortion.

My friend paused for a minute after telling me this, and then noted a little sheepishly: " I think that's a picture of what I did with your remark from Bible study. I took what you said and added it to something I had read, and came to a conclusion regarding what you meant and where you were headed. But then I started thinking 'That just doesn't sound like the Lydia I know' and that's why I wanted to talk to you. Now I realize that I put 2 pieces together that didn't fit and came up with a distorted picture."

I am so thankful that my friend came to me with her concerns. My experience in life has been that alot of people don't do that; I don't always do that. It is much easier to sit back and put the pieces together in our heads. We come up with our own conclusions, conclusions that can be wrong - often dangerously so, especially when we act on them as if they were truth. Not only is drawing conclusions dangerous, it expressly goes against Jesus' warning to stop judging by appearances and instead make a correct judgement (John 7:24). Judging by appearances leads to wrong conclusions. Instead, the Bible encourages us to go to each other when we have concerns or offenses, to talk one-on-one and clear things up. It doesn't mean that we will always find out that our conclusions were wrong; these conversations may lead to difficult conclusions. But then we can speak the truth in love and continue to follow God's instructions for what to do with these concerns or offenses. Or, we may find, like my friend, that we were completely off base, building a distorted picture of a brother or sister in Christ. It takes some grace and humility, but our relationships would be so much better off if we followed God's instructions for handling offenses and concerns, instead of basing our conclusions on our own reasoning and not-so-expert ability to put together a jigsaw puzzle.

Still thinking about storms........

I was just telling my friend Donna, from Bermuda, that we have tornado season here in Michigan. She looked at me like I had a hole in my head....or like I was trying to pull a fast one on her! "No, seriously" I said, "we do have tornado season here." And I went on to explain the tornado warning/watch system, the tornado siren and what to do when it goes off. Which led me to thinking about "Lydia's tips for staying safe during a storm"

1. Find a secure spot to ride out the storm. A couple of years ago I was walking on the Clinton River Trail when a thunderstorm suddenly blew in. I was 1/2 way between the place where my car was parked and Dodge Park - basically, a mile and a half from either one - and there was nothing but the river, the path, a lot of very large trees and me. It was (quite literally) a hair raising experience. Lightening was striking so close and the static in the air was so strong, the hair on my arms and on the back of my neck was standing straight up. I remember thinking "Oh seriously, this is SO stupid! I am going to be the first person to die on the Clinton River Trail by being struck by lightening!" OK, so I made it out alive, but I have a new appreciation for the fact that, when a storm hits, you need to find a secure spot, most preferably a basement, away from windows and walls. The house above you may blow away, but the basement is not going to move.


2. Hang in there, persevere, endure, wait out the storm - it WILL end. Whether it's a tornado, a line of thunderstorms or a hurricane - you don't leave the shelter until the all clear sounds. It may seem like the storm is over, but it might just be a lull, and then it comes roaring back. So you hunker down, be patient, and eventually the storm will pass.


3. OK, this one is not so much a necessity, but it definitely makes things a whole lot better: ride the storm out with some friends or loved ones. It might not always be possible, but what a difference it makes to be hunkered down with some friends; somehow, things are just not as scary, the time seems shorter, and the storm not quite so bad when you are with others.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog where I talked about the 'storms' that come into our lives: health storms, financial storms, emotional storms, relational storms, even storms in our churches and ministries. As I looked at my tips for staying safe in a storm, it occurred to me that the tips also apply to these 'storms' that come into our lives:

1. Find a secure spot - The Psalms are full of references to God being our 'rock' and our 'refuge'. For instance, in Psalm 18:1-2, David (who endured a whole lot of storms in his lifetime) says: "I love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge." There is no more secure place than hiding in the One who can never be moved!
2. Persevere through the storm - Another Bible character who had more than his fair share of storms was the Apostle Paul (see 2 Corinthians 11:23-28). In 2 Timothy 2:3 and 4:5, Paul encourages Timothy to "endure hardship". There are many other passages in the Bible that talk about the need to persevere, to endure. The familiar quote notes that God can "calm the storm or calm us in the storm." Either way, we can persevere because we know that He is in control, that the storm is not going to be an ounce stronger or last a second longer than what He allows. Someone once said that their favorite phrase in the Bible is "and it came to pass" - it didn't come to stay, but it came to pass. OK, not good hermeneutics, but the point is valid - hang in there because storms don't last forever; whatever it is, it will pass in His good time; if not here, then in eternity.
3. Ride out the storm with some friends - In Hebrews 10:22-25 we find a lot of instructions about what we should be doing and how we should be living. What is interesting is how many times the author uses the word "us": let us draw near to God, let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, let us consider how we may spur each other on to love and good deeds. let us not give up meeting together, let us encourage each other. Sure, we can ride out the storms alone, but how much better it is to have friends who will come alongside us and go through the storm with us. I am blessed to have some friends like that; friends who, over the last few years, have not been afraid to stick beside me through the storms and who have encouraged me and prayed for me, who have sat by me and waited until the storm dissipated and the sun came out again.

Nobody really wants to go through a storm but, let's face it, storms are a part of life here in this imperfect world. So, if you are going through a storm right now, my encouragement to you is this: find your security in the Rock (and I don't mean Dwayne Johnson!), hang in there, and find a few friends who will ride it out with you. Oh, and watch the weather report before you go out walking! ;)

Thought for the day.....

"Have it your way" is a great slogan for Burger King but a poor motto for life.

Changing the Landscape

(This has been kicking around in my brain for awhile but, uncharacteristically for me, has been difficult to get on paper - it has gone in several different directions and through several revisions. Comments appreciated!)




Last summer a massive storm swept through our neighborhood. It was not officially classified as a tornado, but with heavy rain, lightening and straight line winds of 70-90 mph, it did significant damage. Our neighbor lost 6 huge fir trees, 3 on each side of his property. They came crashing down in seconds, as if they were matchsticks blown over in a breeze. Other neighbors lost garages and roofs; electrical transformers went up in smoke and power lines fell on cars, houses, trees and streets. As I walk the trail down by the river, there are constant reminders of the storm. There is a sand bar in the river where there once was none, and piles of sand line the side of the trail where the river flooded. Some trees were knocked down completely and they lie where they fell; other trees stayed upright, but just barely, and they lean in the direction of the wind; still others lost the top half or third of their trunks, and deformity is still obvious . All along the trail are tangled piles of leaves, twigs, branches and logs, remnants of the dozens of trees that were destroyed in the storm.

As a result of the storm, the landscape in my neighborhood has changed. Some of these changes were not good: there is a part of the trail that floods with every heavy rain now, because the storms changed the contour of the riverbank. As I look out my kitchen window, where I once only saw stately fir trees, I see a yard scattered stumps in my neighbor’s yard; I also have a clear view our neighbor’s house and the street at the end of our block that was once blocked from view is now clearly visible. Other changes were more positive: the loss of old, dead trees allowed the younger trees to flourish and provided more areas of sunshine where wild flowers grow tall. Good or bad, the landscape has changed and it has changed forever. It will never again look the way it did before the storms.

Our family has endured a number of storms over the last few years, and not just the weather kind. We have gone through health “storms’ – we almost lost Steve’s brother Mark to liver failure and my mom has fought a losing battle with Alzheimer’s. We, like most others in our area, have struggled through financial storms. The price of everything, from gas to college, is rising, and we have also had to deal with wage and benefit cuts, and a lack of job security. The relational storms have been overwhelming. Some relationships that we thought were as strong and sturdy as large fir trees came crashing down. Others just dissipated. As a result of all of these storms, we have gone through great emotional turbulence. Anger, grief, anxiety, and depression have swept through our lives. As a result of these storms, the landscape of our lives has been changed forever.

Some of these changes seem to be anything but good. Mark is on the liver transplant list; and my mom has just been moved to a long-term care facility. The economy continues to struggle to recover, as do our finances. And while some relationships have been replanted as seedlings, it is hard to see how others can ever be regrown.

But…..some of the changes, while painful, have been good. We have a new appreciation for our health, and have made changes to our lifestyle to help our bodies be in better condition (think diet and exercise!). We have learned how to make do with less, to think before we buy and to differentiate between wants and needs. We are more thankful for the blessings of strong relationships – ones that stand in the face of the storms of life – and we work to strengthen them even further.

Most of all, we have come to a deeper and more intimate understanding of what it means to have a relationship with God our Father. He is the One who is our Rock in the storms of life, the One that we cling to when the wind is howling around us (Ps. 62:2). He is the One is in control of the storms and who can either cause the storm to cease, or see us safely through the storm (Matt. 8:24). He is the One who never changes, the One who is the same yesterday, today and forever (Heb. 13:8). And He is the One who promises that He will take the bad and turn it into our good. So, no matter what storms are going on in our lives, or what storms are still to come, we can confidently say with the Apostle Paul (who knew more than a little about all kinds of storms!): “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.” (Romans 8:28)

An Advocate

My mom needs an advocate.

She is 88 years old and Alzheimers has been stealing her mind for the last 6 years. Her decline was gradual at first, but over the last couple of years her mental deterioration has accelerated. She no longer recognizes people, not even my Dad to whom she has been married for 55 years. She can no longer feed, bathe or dress herself. She has great difficulty walking, due to lack of balance and coordination. And while she can still speak, her words have no connection to what is going on around her or inside of her. She fell recently, and it took 3 days to figure out that there was something seriously wrong because she couldn’t tell anyone. After trips to the doctor’s office, the walk-in clinic and the hospital, she was diagnosed with 2 pelvic fractures. As a result of all this, she is now in a long-term care facility. And she needs an advocate.

All that the caregivers at the facility seem to see is an old lady who is agitated and non-cooperative, in spite of their best efforts to care for her. They don’t understand that her agitation and non-cooperation are her ways of communicating with them.

They put a diaper on her, so that she won’t have to wait for someone to come and help her to the bathroom. She can’t tell them that she still has bladder and bowel control, and that she has no idea she is supposed to use the diaper – it’s a foreign concept to her.

They put soft restraints on her when she is in bed so that she doesn’t fall out and hurt herself. She can’t tell them that the restraints are on in such a way that she can only lay on her back – and she sleeps on her side.

They put the T.V. on so that she will have some stimulation when there are no visitors present. She can’t tell them that she has never watched T.V., has never even had a T.V. in her house and that the constant blare is OVERstimulating her.

So, my mom needs an advocate.

I live 500 miles away; I cannot be her advocate. My dad is overwhelmed by the last few weeks and all that has gone on with her; he cannot be her advocate right now.
But my brother Paul, he is her advocate.

Paul is 5 foot 10 and about 250 pounds – a big guy. He is strong; this summer I saw him stand up in a pool with his 23 year son David on his shoulders, and his 17 year old son Gerry on David’s shoulders. He keeps a road work crew of dozens of men in line with ease. He loves fast snowmobiles and faster cars. He works hard and, when the work is done, plays hard. But with my mom, he is a gentle giant. When he walks into her room, he gives a loud, cheery “Hello Moth-er” in a slightly high-pitched, sing-song voice; her eyes open and her face breaks into a big grin. She doesn’t recognize him as Paul, her 49 year old son, the one who got into more trouble as a kid than the other 4 of us combined. She recognizes him as a friendly face, someone who is there for her, who is on her side, her advocate. And advocate he does. He figures out what the problems are, meets with the staff, and gently but firmly walks them through each incident, helping them to understand where my mom is coming from and what she needs. He gives her a voice, speaking for her at this time when she cannot speak for herself.

My brother Paul has become a picture of Jesus to me. It’s an unlikely analogy and I’m sure Paul would be the first one to find a lot of humor it. But through this situation with my mom I have come to better appreciate and understand what the Bible means when it says that Jesus is my advocate. 1 John 2:1 says “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous…” (ESV) In the original Greek language the word advocate is “parakletos”. The Complete Word Study New Testament says that the word is “used by Greek writers of a legal advisor, pleader, proxy or advocate, one who comes forward on behalf of and as the representative of another.” Similarly, in Romans 8:34, we are asked “Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us.” (ESV) The idea of interceding or being an intercessor is the same idea as being an advocate, one who pleads/speaks on behalf of someone else. And in Hebrews 7:24-25, the writer tells us “…because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.” (NIV)

What a wonderful relationship I have with Jesus! Not only did he become a human being, live, suffer and die for me, but he was raised from the dead and now is a permanent, continuous advocate for me in heaven. He knows me, understands me, and is the best advocate I could ever have.

It comforts me to know that my mom has such an able earthly advocate in my brother Paul; it comforts me even more to know that she has an advocate in heaven also - that she has been saved completely, that no-one can condemn her, even in this stage of life that she is in.

A few days after her hospitalization, my mom was sitting beside another older patient who is in much the same boat that my mom is in. The other lady was in some distress, worried that someone was out to “get her”. My mom looked at her and uttered some of the only words that she has said recently that make sense: “You need the Lord Jesus in your life. He’s the only one who can help you. You need Jesus.”

We all do, Mom, we all do.

"Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high.
My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God;
on behalf of a man he pleads with God as a man pleads for his friend." (Job 16:19-21, NIV)

Thoughts from the Breast Cancer Clinic waiting area

Breast cancer is no respecter of persons. As I sit in the waiting area, waiting, I look around at the group that has just settled in. These patients and their support people have just left an ‘orientation class’ on what to expect as they start treatment for breast cancer. My first thought is – wow, this is ONE hospital, ONE day, I can’t believe how many women are newly diagnosed with breast cancer; there are at least 17 or 18. Some of the ladies are old – grandma looking types with white hair and moving slowly, husbands or daughters by their sides. There are younger gals – my age, plus or minus a few years; one had 2 friends with her – as her name is called, they move together, almost touching, their support almost physical/palpable. Others are here with husbands, mothers (sometimes hard to tell who is the patient and who is the supporter – the older or the younger), sisters and a few with an entourage of helpers. And there are a couple of really young gals – I mean, in their 20’s or 30’s. Wow. There are white gals and black gals and Asian gals and Hispanic gals. Speaking English and Italian and Albanian. Tall, short, skinny, large, no bust, XL bust. Business suits, jeans, dockers, skirts. Short hair, long hair, curly hair, black, brown, blonde, grey, white, and red hair. And I wonder, 6 months from now, how many will have no hair. You would think it might be kind of a depressing place – all this cancer, all this pain, suffering, and anxiety that has made it’s appearance - unasked and unwanted - into these people’s lives and now concentrated in this one place. But, instead, it’s an uplifting kind of place because it’s a hopeful place. This is the Breast Cancer Clinic. The people who work here are dedicated to helping and healing and giving hope. They DO this – they know how to fight this battle. As I look around the waiting room, I don’t see people crying; they are talking quietly to each other or on the phone, or reading through materials, or filling out forms. But fairly often there is a burst of laughter, or even just a giggle that lets me know that they are not defeated. This is the beginning; the battle has started; you GO girls!