What to Do When Our Hearts are Breaking...

Our world has suffered so much these past weeks.

The tremors of hurt and anger seem to be cracking our very foundations.

And the message carries many faces...

Not one of us has truly walked in another's shoes, we strive for understanding, for justice, and the process becomes as unique as our very fingerprint.

Some walk in protest, there are riots, there is also peace.

Many retreat into quiet, grappling with issues, heavy and uncomfortable.  Some proclaim with voice, strong and sure.

And while the process may look different in each life, that message is never as clear as the photo board over my desk that inspires me every. single. day.

Sweet smiles shine out to the world. Each grandbaby a delight to this Memaw, loved deeply, fiercely and more than the breath in my lungs.

These innocent faces have yet to feel the cruelty of a nation bent on tearing itself apart.  They love generously and without reserve... unsullied by the ugliness all around.

This, This is what I want for our brokeness.  That pure love, a child's trust, an endless hope in all that is good in each other.

"Love one another with brotherly affection.

Out do one another in showing honor."

                                        Romans 12:10 (ESV)

So, when our hearts are breaking over a world that is broken, take me back to the kind of love that bears one another's burdens, honors others above ourselves, and loves without reserve.

That is worth fighting for.  Always.

And Then...

If each of us live long enough, we are bound to encounter seasons of pain and suffering.

I knew that was true.  Sort of.

For the first 51 years of my life, the only real problems I suffered through were inconsequential, the hardships of budgeting for new tires (instead of a new couch) or the 2 year old tantrums that demanded cake (instead of green beans).  Really, to be honest, life was easy. happy. good.  Family Get-Togethers.  Birthday Celebrations.  Job Promotions.  More smiles than tears those first 51 years.

And then... Cancer.

Mom's pancreatic cancer diagnosis shattered that naive, confident, easy-breezy view of life. The problems of the before melted into trivial.  In moment's of sheer honesty, we'd go back in a heartbeat and live an entire lifetime dealing with the tears of 2 year old tantrums instead of the soul-crushing anguish of that cancer journey.

Perhaps you are struggling through a period of profound pain and suffering too.  Could be life has coasted along smoothly...until a Divorce, or Job Loss, or a shattering personal pain.

Cancer ushered in a season of intense grief, heartache and loss in our family.

It was Suffering on a scale that we had never before experienced.

I heard an interview on the radio the other day, didn't catch all of it, but the gist of it was that Suffering can be a Gift.

Caught my attention alright.  Denial was immediate.

Then I started listening (wish I could link the show, but don't have the name, please forgive)... and after a few minutes I was swayed to begin to look at suffering in a new way...

When pain and suffering take us to the end of ourselves... When the hurt and loss push us to question everything we once thought certain... maybe here it is where growth can turn the suffering into gift, the heartache into fruit... maybe...

I listened on to the wise counsel on suffering and began to engage just a bit, perhaps the seasons of hardship and pain can shepherd us to a better place.  And I remembered a quote by Josh Shipp:

You either get bitter - or you get better...

There is a question there... During what seasons have we grown the most?  Seasons of rest and happiness?  Or seasons drawn from pain and suffering?

What season pushed me to choose?  Get Bitter? or Get Better?

For me, it was the cancer journey. 

And the growth didn't happen all at once, or even in big, mind-boggling ways.  It wasn't like we somehow had arrived at suffering well.  Actually it was quite the opposite.  We fought the suffering part tooth and nail.  I think you could say we were in denial until mom's final breath.

But...

Looking back, I can see now that the growth, the changes, the strengthening... it was happening in so many small ways, hidden lessons in darkness, that have born fruit in the light.

We grew closer to the Lord.  I will never read scripture again without feeling the anguish of Christ's loss at the tomb of Lazarus... or his desolate cry in the garden of Gethesmane... oh Lord, we prayed too that our cup of suffering would pass us by.  There was a growing understanding of the depths of Christ's Love and Compassion.  A trust in His promise to never leave us nor forsake us.  And a growing step of faith to lay down our will for the perfect will of the Fathers.

Our eyes were opened in earnest to those who walked this road of suffering alongside us.  An outpouring of gratitude that we would never have felt if the cancer journey had never happened.  There is a blessing so infinitely sweet in the arms that held us during those grief-filled days and nights.  That Love healed our shattered hearts when I thought we would never smile again.

In walking through that dark Shadow Valley, we learned above all to trust in God's Faithful Goodness.  If we had never experienced the valley road, we wouldn't understand His utter goodness in making a way where there seemed to be no way.  We are confident that His grace walked that road with us and safely brought us though the overwhelming darkness.

And that lesson compels us to continue sharing our story.  The pain and suffering can be redeemed in the Hands of Grace... Greg Laurie speaks it well:

So, perhaps there is a truth in that suffering can be a gift, of sorts.

 And the thought made me dig deeper.  For I would never wish to elevate the cancer... it was the circumstance, yes, that threw us into a year of devastating loss, but I believe the choice to get Better came not from the cancer journey, but from the solid foundation of support surrounding us.

Because, if we are honest, pain and suffering can hollow out a soul and start a spiral down into a dark, dark pit that can swallow us whole.

What makes the difference?  To get Bitter... or get Better?

Time gives perspective as we've journeyed through this season.  It is not the same for everyone, this I know.  We all ride the waves of pain and suffering in very personal ways. Yet, I've seen a common thread in those who seem to suffer well, or as our radio host put it, those who find hope in the midst of suffering.

For us, the hope found root in a network of support. And others echo this truth.

The structure of community was our lifeline.  Loved ones stood in the gap for us, continually drawing our gaze back to Christ.  When we couldn't find the words, they humbly shouldered the grief and walked out love in our lives.

Within that community of support, we were given valuable coping techniques.  Each one gently offering their own experiences as a map for this valley road. Some tips were spot on, some advice perhaps not as useful to us, but all had merit and showed us a more excellent way to live life well, even in the midst of excruciating pain and suffering. 

One of the things that helped the most was taking a step of courage and meeting with the sweetest grief counselor.  Not easy.  And yes, I spent many of our sessions knee-deep in soggy kleenex, but, oh, the growth that came from those talks.  It was a gift, and a push, and utter encouragement to lay down our circumstances and choose Better, not Bitter.

Each of us will find the path that is right for us... when we make a conscious choice to take the next step... and the next, and the next.  Choosing Better over Bitter when we can.  Choosing to rest in Grace when we can't.  Cry, Breathe, Ask for help, Trust, Take the step... it is the way of living on this valley road.

Perhaps our suffering can be the catalyst for the kind of growth we could never have imagined. 

Trusting in the One who knows our suffering and Chooses Goodness every time.  That perhaps is the greatest gift of all...

Love, Always,
Jane

Never, Ever Give Up Hope...

What to do when Fear and Suffering Overwhelm us?

Read more success stories!

And there are plenty... Today we'll share links to the many uplifting stories of pancreatic cancer warriors.  No matter where you are in this fight, be encouraged.

I remember when mom was first diagnosed... there was no one that we knew who was battling pancreatic cancer, not even someone that someone knew.  As a matter of fact, mom's oncologist said that his clinic had only seen 3 cases in the past decade.

We felt so utterly alone.

I so wish we had known there were survivors of this horrific cancer.  It would have given us Hope.  Perhaps a network to reach out to... a place to find our footing.

Today there are those places.  And here are some of the links... please check them out!

The Pancreatic Cancer Action Network has an ambitious goal to double pancreatic cancer survival by 2020 and they work tirelessly towards this end.  They are found at Pancan.org and share stories of survivors here.

The Lustgarten Foundation for Pancreatic Cancer Research passionately works towards a singular outcome of changing patients to survivors.  They share their survivor stories here.

The Pancreatica Organization also shares stories of hope and success on their website.  They strongly promote education, and medical research - advocating optimal treatment options for all pancreatic cancer patients.

The Cancer Treatment Centers of America also offer a page for pancreatic cancer survivors and each story is a testament to the fight we wage every day to erradicate the word cancer from our vocabulary.

The American Cancer Society advocates for a myriad of cancers but has a beautiful post each year entitled Stories of Hope where they share survivor stories across the board... Pancreatic Cancer survivor John Cristman shares his story this year to offer hope to other patients when it's hard to find... and he knows a thing or two about hope... He is a 29-year pancreatic cancer survivor!


You do not ever need to feel alone on this journey.  So many have paved the way and are cheering you on ... As Abbie Grande's dad so wisely encourages,

"Stay strong, stay positive, and never, ever give up hope."

                      ~ Abbie Grande's dad, 2 year pancreatic cancer survivor

May you be lifted up and encouraged today,

Praying Blessings and Love, asking for Hope to be the beacon that lights the way,

Always,
        Jane

Borrowing Trouble from Tomorrow

Fear and Suffering just go hand in hand...

As a matter of fact, pancreatic cancer is the perfect dance of fear and suffering.

For anyone who has walked this road, I can feel the nod... you've been there.  Fear and Suffering are ever present on this journey.

The sagest of advice would be to not borrow trouble from tomorrow.  Good Advice.  Just not practical when you've been handed a pancreatic cancer diagnosis.

Mom struggled with debilitating pain in her upper abdomen for the duration of her cancer battle.  At times it was under control with pain medication, but too often, we were chasing down the next comfort measure and pressing her medical team for stronger perscriptions...

Which led to the cold panic of fear as we struggled all the more against the claws of this brutal malignancy.  When a loved one is in pain and the diagnosis is terminal, an all-consuming fear can just overwhelm...

I wish I had the magic bullet to confront and resolve the painful effects of Fear and Suffering.  What I can share, are the thoughts and reflections that helped us survive the nightmare we were living...

First, and by far the most important, would be the grace by which mom handled her terminal diagnosis.  She was the rock we rallied around, and her strength multiplied many times over as we fell apart in so many ways.

Mom led the way in the Blessings of Gratitude and taught us by example.  Her choices continue to guide us to this day...

We also learned from the friends and mentors God placed along our journey...

One in particular gave space for the struggle.  Iva May.  Her devotions touched a tender spot as we walked this road.

"Suffering confronts people with the fragility of life and forces them to evaluate their theology."

That's Truth.

And then she challenged our response...

"They either respond in bitterness toward God (she called this the Pride of Entitlement)

or

They trust Him to accomplish His redemptive purposes (this she called the Humility of Surrender).

Shaking down the complex to simple choices and a summons to action.

It was Lisa Harper who reminded us that "Some of our greatest miracles lie on the other side of a river of tears."

Profound Permission to feel the sorrow and own the grief that began the day pancreatic cancer came home to lay siege on our family.

And Hallowed Grace to receive the miracles given... for when healing was not found in this earthly place, we were gifted the sacred space with mom to share moments of love and wholeness that have been cherished more than all the tears that fell during her grievous battle with that formidable foe.

 Finally, an encouragement from Pope Paul VI that puts a perspective of Hope in all that we do...

"Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying.  Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day.  Do it! I say.  Whatever you want to do, do it now!  There are only so many tomorrows."

And we don't need to be Borrowing Trouble from those Tomorrows!! 

That's Truth... and Grace... for tonight,
My Love, Always,
                         Jane

Make Cancer Stop...

I need you to make cancer stop,
nd I will love you crazy for trying so hard.

"It is so hard to know how to support someone going through the war against cancer. What we really want to do is make it all stop. Make the cancer go away. Provide total healing. When we can’t do that, we feel helpless and oftentimes end up in a state of paralysis, doing nothing."

                                   ~ Nicole J. Phillips

This beautiful quote so very well describes the feelings of thousands walking this cancer road with their loved one.  We want nothing more than to make it all go away...

We offer advice, madly research the best treatments.  Suggest different diets, new supplements.  Study alternative fixes.  Storm the internet.  Grab at straws.  Plead with the Almighty.  

And in the end, no matter how we have begged and bargained and agonized over it, we are simply incapable of making this cancer stop.  Mom knew that from the beginning.  

To each one who rallied around her with gifts of advice or suggestions of treatments, she accepted the tear-stained offers of love as a promise.  A promise that she never fought alone.  She knew the power of that intense yearning for her healing would stop her cancer in a heartbeat if that were humanly possible.

And for this, she was forever grateful.

Our promise, as we continue this fight in her honor, is to one day find a way to Make Cancer Stop...it is our deepest desire...

...for every mother, or father, or sister, or brother, friend or child facing this devastating diagnosis...

It is all Grace to join in the fight that will End Cancer in our lifetime, so no one will ever have to agonize on this cancer road, ever again...


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Words that Wound...

I have carried around the wound for weeks.  Hidden deep.  Buried.  But festering...

Words that were meant to comfort, in some oddly dysfuntional way.  The truth?  They bruised, they hurt, finally they ruptured into anger.

It happened while we were on our recent vacation.  Surrounded by family on all sides, it was, after all, our Big Family Reunion, the first one since Mom had passed away.  We received hugs, and whispers of love, condolences and anguishes uttered at the unfairness of the cancer beast.  Tears and smiles, all were welcome...except one.

She was a distant relative, my age, with a mom of her own.  I stumble to find reason.

She expressed her sympathy first, and then asked about mom's treatment for the cancer.  Unwittingly I fell right into her agenda.  As I mentioned the radiation mom underwent, she nodded.  And then I spoke of the chemotherapy and the harsh side-effects.  She half-smiled as if to take the sting out of her words, and then baldly stated, "Well, you know, it was the chemo that killed her."

Stunned.  Speechless.

My expression must have been suitably horrified.  Which I guess was all the encouragement she needed, for she continued on in this vein for what seemed an eternity.  Blaming the government and the whole established medical community for duping poor innocent patients (like my mom, she said, patting my hand) into poisoning their bodies with the evil, toxic drugs under the guise of "treatment," when there were virtually any number of non-toxic, natural remedies that would have saved mom. 

Conspiracy Theory in Spades.

She rambled on about how the FDA and the pharmaceutical companies were in cohoots to make exorbitant amounts of money on these poisonous treatments, and therefore thwarted any attempt by naturalists to get their message out to cancer patients, even going so far as to imprison these angels of mercy...

Speechless.

I listened for too long, the words shooting like arrows into a soul already grieving searing loss.

In effect, her attempt at sympathy was no more than a rant she wanted to get off her chest.  The words were accusations that we chose to poison mom with the chemotherapy.

I would say that she was utterly callous and insensitive, and yet she was so determined that I understand her theories.  She seemed to truly want to shed light on our terribly lost and misguided ways. 

Still the words left wounds I can't explain.  A hurt so deep, I wanted to call mom and spill it all out.  Hear her voice soothe.  Feel her hands wipe away the tears.

Another valley in the Grief Journey.   Words that Wound.

And spilled over into anger.  When my tongue found traction, it lashed out in pain at her intended platitudes.  In uncharacteristic rudeness I demanded to know where she was while mom was undergoing "treatment."  If she was all-fired up about natural cures and remedies, why didn't she share those ideas with us then?  Spare mom the pain and suffering...   The tirade would have continued had not Leroy's two young nephew burst into the room racing to play their computer games. 

I'm so thankful the boys arrived to still my words.  It was not my intention to repay pain in kind.  I know somewhere in my head, that she didn't mean to hurt me, but the accusation and judgement lay heavy on my heart.  As the boys fussed over who's turn it was on the computer, the moment passed and she and I let the argument go.

Do I believe she's right?  Did the chemotherapy kill mom?  I have wrestled with this for months.  In The Perfect Storm I shared our agonizing thoughts over the path of mom's illness.  Yes, it's obvious that the chemo had debilitating effects on her.  But if not for the cancer she never would have undergone the chemo.  Such a twisted maze...  And were there natural remedies we could have tried?  Perhaps.  And that only increases the anguish.  The What If's...

But the Words that Wound the most are the judgemental opinions of another.  Unnecesary wounding...

There's a story about a dedicated, but harried T-Ball coach.  If you've ever been to a T-ball game you know the score, especially for the first few games of the year.  The tiny players have no clue.  When a batter hits the ball, he might run to third instead of first.  Or a lucky player may catch a ball, but then in the excitement of the catch, forget to throw it to first.

In this particular play, the coach watched with disbelief as a ball was hit and rolled past every player out to the fence. Several players began running after it, and in the process reached the ball at the same time and began fighting over it.  At his wit's end, the coach hollered from the side line, "Same team! Same team!"   The players spun and looked at him.  Then one gave up the struggle while the other threw the ball into second base.

That one-liner speaks volumes.  Not just for T-ball players, but for everyone playing in the game of life.

Same team!  Same team!

If one cancer patient decides on traditional medical treatment and another decides on alternative care, the bottom line is that we're all on the Same Team.

Striving to find wholeness and healing.

Judgemental opinions, devisive posturing, and critical ranting do nothing but hurt the cause.  We are, after all, on the Same Team...

Elizabeth Edwards struggled and lost her fight with breast cancer this past year.  In an early interview, she wisely noted that, "The strength to fight the cancer is inside each of us... each one chooses the course that is best for them."

Each cancer journey is unique, the nightmare part withstanding.  To those struggling with what's right, what course of treatment, or which direction to turn, remember that we are all pulling for your healing.  Find the course, the path that is right for you.  And never, never, let the critical opinions of others sway you. 

May you always find strength in the fact that you are part of a much larger team.  A team that is fighting hard for a cure.   We are all on the Same Team!   One day soon, it will be the Winning Team!

My Love Always, Jane

Suffering is the Great Purifier

Several days ago I read these words...

Suffering is the Great Purifier

They startled me.  Rubbed raw at first.

I have not wanted to be reminded of mom's anguish and suffering as she journeyed through pancreatic cancer, an unrelenting year of trial and affliction.

The suffering was more than just physical, but mental and emotional as well. Pancreatic cancer is a destructive power, insidious and fierce.  The memories bring a deep, heart-rending pain that I want desparately to forget.

And yet, I know we will never forget.  The suffering and pain are interwoven with her sweet life.  Those memories can not be separated.  Pancreatic cancer changed the journey, and in so many ways I have felt the assault of that suffering like a punch to the gut. 

But as I read these words by Dr. David McKinley my breath caught.  I understood exactly what he meant.  The concept crystallized in an instant.  Perhaps you would allow me to share his perspective on suffering:

"Suffering forces us to turn from shallow distractions and smaller irritations to consider the ultimate issues in life.  It helps us get our eyes on something that really matters.  Too much of our time is spent worrying about things that don't matter.

Suffering is the great purifier of the pettiness that often consumes us in life.  One of the reasons some of us never develop into people of great character is because we constantly give our attention to the petty things of life.  Commentator George Will says 'pettiness is the tendency of people without large purposes.'  If you live with a large sense of purpose, then you're not going to let your life be burned up by all the little things that really don't matter.  If we ever lose sight of what we are about for eternity, then we miss everything that really matters in life and we focus on all the wrong things.  That's why Peter says (in I Peter 4:12-13) 'you are tested in the genuineness of your faith, so that it is more precious than gold.'  Your life needs to count for more than just the petty trivialities that so often consume us.  So suffering in life matters."

When faced with the enormity of a pancreatic cancer diagnosis, we immediately stopped worrying about the petty, small things.  We focused on the really important matters...Life to the fullest, as much as possible, love shared at every turn, forgiveness offered, grace received, eternity prepared for... As it turns out, suffering really is the great purifier.

In this life, we will all face our "pancreatic cancer diagnosis" sooner or later.  Whatever it is that brings suffering into our lives, let it also be the vehicle of opening the eyes of our souls to a larger purpose, to the things and the people that really matter.  The trials that change the course of our life journey are the very things that turn our hearts towards eternity.

Does it change the pain?  No.  The scars wrought by mom's pancreatic cancer journey are here to stay.  But this perspective does change my attitude towards the suffering.  For if we had lost mom suddenly to a heart-attack or a car wreck, we would have missed the past year.  A year where suffering wiped clean the petty trivialities in our lives and helped us focus on the unbelievable gifts of a mother's love, a families devotion and a Grace that softened each memory into one of beauty.