Back to the Bench

It all started right here.

Ten years ago - it seems hard to believe it's been a decade - my heart was heavy. Almost inconsolable.

Then I began what I called Lakeside Services.

On this very bench, as I took in glorious sunsets each evening, I would cry out to God in my pain and ask Him a lot of "whys?"

I didn't get an answer to every question, but surrounded by the beauty of His creation, I found peace and comfort in the midst of the storm.

I went back to the beginning of this blog today. Back six years looking for one of my early posts that spoke of that time. When I pulled up Lakeside Services I was surprised at what I read, but honestly, I shouldn't have been.

The verse that has defined the past three months for me was there once again. The verse I wrote about last month in Flood and Fire.

Isaiah 43:2: When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.

In the Flood and Fire post I shared about my recent cancer journey. I have been blessed in that it was caught early, treatment was short and uneventful, and the prognosis is good. (Although prayers are gratefully accepted for my one month follow up July 3rd!)

What I didn't share was the other half of the past three months. The part of the journey that is the more emotionally taxing for me than even a cancer diagnosis.

The same day I received that news, my brother reappeared after more than a year; homeless, desperate, and looking for help.

He is almost four years younger than me, but hard living most of the past few decades has taken its toll. Most people think I'm the younger sibling by as much as 10 years.

He now suffers from short-term memory loss and a host of health issues. When he resurfaced it was from a place a little lower than rock bottom.

My profession is working with people in desperate situations. My office is often their last resort.

I thought that would have prepared me for working with my brother, but I was wrong.

No matter how intense the needs and demands of others who walk through my door, I could still go home at night, pray for them and move on to other things.

Not so when it's family.

There are no "work hours" and "down time."

It's all the time. 

The phone rings early in the morning and late at night. Work and weekends get shifted around to accommodate visits to social services, Social Security, and doctors offices.

I thought I was awesomely juggling all the balls in the air until the day the wrong button got pushed. I dropped him off at the temporary shelter where he's been staying the past three months and sobbed all the way home.

It didn't make sense to me. I was angry with him and his behavior - why on earth was I crying?

But cry I did. The ugly cry. The shoulder-heaving, snot running, torrents of tears so-thick-I-could-barely-see-the-road cry. And when I thought it had stopped, it started all over again.

The next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, tears lived in the rims. The mere thought of having to deal with him pushed those droplets over the edge and down my cheeks.

It wasn't my nature to be so down for so many days on end.

Through it all, I have continued to force myself to sit down and work on a writing assignment and my book. I would leave work, then write for several hours. I have deadlines to meet and I spent many days going from the computer screen at work to the computer screen at home.

Last night as I drove home I noticed the sunset, and the lake called to my spirit. I can't tell you how many long, long months it has been since I sat on my bench and watched the sun slip below the horizon.

I almost didn't heed the call.

At the last minute I rerouted myself and headed toward the park. It was 8:30 and the sun was already hanging low in the sky. As I drove in the direction of the marina, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

There was a fawn prancing around it's mom, then taking off in wild abandon. It stopped in its tracks, abruptly changed directions, and charged off again.

I pulled off on the side of the road to watch for a full two minutes, laughing at the fawn and his joyous play.

It immediately lifted my spirits. 

I slowly drove off, then pulled my camera out of my purse, turned around, and was thrilled to see him still at it so I could record his antics.

A few minutes later I continued to the marina and headed down to the water with my camera.

The lake and the sunset did not disappoint. I sat on the bench and listened to the "whizzzz" of the fisherman's line being cast and the "plunk" as the weight hit the water to pull the hook below the surface, tantalizing the fish below with a worm or minnow.

I smelled the sweetness of the honeysuckles hanging in the air.

And I felt the warm breeze on my face.

This is where it all began for an aching heart searching to find joy again.

This heart, once more heavy with the struggles of this life, has returned to ask new why's. To seek answers once again in the stillness and beauty of creation.

To hear Him whisper "I am with you always, Toni. Sometimes in this life you will go through storms, but I am in control."

This heart has come back to the bench.

Flood and Fire

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. Isaiah 43:2. 

I love this verse and have often shared it to encourage others going through difficult times. I'll remind them that it says "when" these things happen and not "if." God is not surprised by any trials that come our way. In fact, in John 16:33 He goes so far as to say "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." 

So the first time this verse popped up in something I was reading a few months ago, I smiled and nodded in affirmation. "Amen." 

The second time it appeared I thought "Well, that's confirmation of a comforting promise. Love that verse."

But by the third, fourth, even fifth time I either read or heard it in a short span of time, my thoughts were more like "Where you going with this God? Are you preparing me for something?"

He was.

I've been through a lot of "somethings" over the past decade, but this one has me passing through waters I couldn't anticipate and walking through fire I never saw coming.

About a year and a half ago I noticed a small "something" on my shoulder. Every doctor had the same reaction: "Hmmm...that's weird...I've never seen anything like that. I have no idea what that is." 

But during a routine physical last November, one doctor's comment was tinged with foreboding. "Hmmm...that looks different. Have it checked."

Three months ago, a dermatologist biopsied it and a few weeks later, after I'd all but forgotten about it, he called with the results. I was busy in the church food pantry wrapping donated bread and not really paying attention until I heard two words.

"Lymphoma." "Oncologist."

It still really didn't sink in. I went back to the job at hand and purposed to call him back in the morning when I could listen without distraction. Surely I had misheard. 

I couldn't get hold of him the next day and had to wait the weekend. But by Monday, those ugly words were back. 

"You need to call a hospital hematology/oncology department for further testing and tell them you have 'biopsy proven' marginal zone lymphoma." 

It sounded as if someone had slapped a little gold sunburst on my chest like a Good Housekeeping seal of approval. Hi, you've got cancer and it's "Biopsy Proven!"

My head was reeling in those first few days. Finding an insurance covered hospital and oncologist. Going for a CT scan. Having an ultrasound. Then waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

But as time has gone on, in the midst of scary words, unfamiliar faces, tests and new terminology, I have a peace. God is still in control and He uses people and things like music to remind me of His presence. 

On my first visit to discuss radiation treatments, Mercy Me's "Even If" came on the radio as I pulled into the parking lot.

I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone

They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul

On my first treatment visit, I asked the tech if they "took music requests." He asked what I'd like to listen to and I told him Contemporary Christian. 

"My daughter is a Contemporary Christian artist. Would you like to listen to her CD?"

"Sure."

A few minutes later, as he left the room saying "the treatment is about to begin," I heard these lyrics "Set my eyes on you. Your love is all I need to live."

A few days later, the tech gave me the CD. Those well-timed lyrics were from a song called Psalm 16.

"Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge. I say to the LORD, 'You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.' I say of the holy people who are in the land, “They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight.” Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more. I will not pour out libations of blood to such gods or take up their names on my lips. LORD, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I keep my eyes always on the LORD. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead, nor will you let your faithful one see decay. You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand." Ps. 16

One of my favorite bands is Tenth Avenue North. Their lyrics always touch my soul and their newest song could not have come out at a better time.

Take a minute to listen to I Have This Hope and I know it will minister to you wherever you are. (I'm smiling right now because as I clicked through the link to make sure it worked and listened to the song, Even If came on right after - so listen to that too. God is so good and in every detail!) 

I have this hope
In the depth of my soul
In the flood or the fire
You're with me and You won't let go

Yesterday marked the half way point in my treatments. A sweet friend gave me this necklace.

For those of you with "older" eyes like mine, it says "What Cancer Cannot Do. It cannot...invade the soul, suppress memories, kill friendship, destroy peace, conquer the spirit, shatter hope, cripple love, corrode faith, steal eternal life, silence courage."

All that is true but even more important is what God CAN do in and through me. He can...give rest to my soul (Ps.62:1), remember the righteous (Ps. 112:6), be a friend (John 15:15), keep me in perfect peace (Is. 26:3), make me more than a conqueror (Romans 8:37), give me a future and a hope (Jer. 29:11), save me because of His unfailing love (Ps. 6:4), do the impossible with the smallest bit of faith (Matt 17:20), give eternal life (1 John 5:11), and commands me to be strong and courageous (Joshua 1:9).

Yes, there is both flood and fire going on in my life right now. But my hope is in Him alone and if I set my eyes on Him, I'll see He is with me and He won't let go.

Fire or False Alarm?

FIRE! FIRE! 

The word shrieked from the smoke detector right outside my bedroom door.

It was 2:45 a.m. but my eyes flew open at the sound. I fumbled for the light in my sleepy stupor.

Shaking, I stopped and tried to gain my bearings. I smelled nothing. I saw nothing. I slipped on the shoes next to my bed and headed out to the hallway.

The apartment is small and it took no time at all to check all around and confirm that there was in fact, no fire, even though the alarm continued it's high pitched beep and warning cry.

I grabbed the step stool in the kitchen so I could reach the alarm. I twisted it to the left, expecting to remove a fading 9 volt battery. Instead, I discovered this particular alarm was wired into the ceiling.

Now I was really confused. Was there a problem with the wiring? Did I need to be concerned about that? What on earth had set this thing off?

I had no idea, so I just screwed it back up into the ceiling and the noise stopped.

Even though I felt fairly confident it was a false alarm, I found it a little difficult to fall back to sleep.

Eventually, my heightened sense of impending doom was overcome by exhaustion and I fell back asleep.

God's Word is like that fire alarm.

It warns us that there is a time coming, and is even here now, when there will be persecution. And it tells us to be on alert for the return of our Savior.

Perhaps we hear a sermon that makes us sit up and take notice of our conduct. Or we see a film like War Room that brings our faltering prayer life into question. Or we read a blog post that makes us think twice about how we're running our day to day Christian race.

Whatever it is, the warning cry wakes us from our sleep and has us looking around to see what might be coming at us. We feel convicted, we become introspective, we vow to change.

But when no danger is readily seen, when the warning signs appear to be false alarms, we slowly sink back into our daily slumber, lowering our defenses, and making ourselves weaker in the process.

Don't let that happen one more time!

Hebrews 10:37 reminds us "For in just a very little while, He who is coming will come and will not delay."

And 1 Thessalonians 5:1-4, 6 states: Now, brothers, about times and dates we do not need to write to you, for you know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, 'Peace and safety' destruction will come on them suddenly, as labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you, brothers, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief. So then, let us not be like others, who are asleep, but let us be alert and self-controlled."

Friends, there's no failing battery - the wiring is in good working order.

The warnings are real and should be heeded.

Do not become lulled back into a deep sleep.

Be on alert. Watch and pray. He who is coming WILL come - and - will not delay. His timing is perfect.

Staying focused may be easier said than done, but that is my prayer for each of us today and every day until He comes again.

I'd love to pray for you in other ways too. Running this race is often difficult and we need to lift each other up in prayer.

Feel free to leave your requests in the comments below, or email me at lakesidelessons61@gmail.com.