Let Love Guide

  And I'll testify of the battles You've won How You were my portion when there wasn't enough I'll testify of the seas that we've crossed The waters You parted, the waves that I've walked My God did not fail It’s the story I’ll tell The Story I'll Tell , by Maverick City Music It. Is. Finished. Father, my life is yours. I pray I brought you all the glory. I am your servant. May your word to me be fulfilled. And now my favorite African Benediction we pray every Sunday at The Parish AN AFRICAN BENEDICTION All our problems, We send to the cross of Christ! All our difficulties, We send to the cross of Christ! All the devil’s works, We send to the cross of Christ! All our hopes, We set on the risen Christ! Today, I raise a hallelujah. Until all is restored. Grateful for the nearness of God, for our family and friends who are family, for the beauty in each day, and for the hope of heaven Wore remembrances of those I carry in my heart. Cardinal bracelet and ring i

  Saw my team at St. Joe's today. If they DON'T call, I get Chemo 6 (ring-the-bell) tomorrow (Friday, April 30) There's a vulnerability to being at peace, and I still have work to do. For several years doctors and nurses have written, "patient has anxiety" in my chart. I rebuffed that note, because often my anxiety and tears came after receiving not great news. But through these last four months, I've come to accept I do have anxiety - whether I label it that, or not - I hold my breath, there's tension in my shoulders, and intermittent gasps of air, like a panic attack. Even when I feel my mind is at peace, my body tells a true and different story. And I feel that tension. Waiting in the tension of Thursday and Friday, waiting to see if I get chemo, it's hard to pray. I think my processing and tears are my prayers, which help make space for God's best will and what He wants to do in my heart and life. In the past, my prayers gave me hope God's

As I await the end of this chapter, I'm grateful. Life near the veil has had many valleys. But I'm grateful to have felt the deepest sorrows, because it freed me to feel the highest joys. Even in the depths of sorrow, there were little Easter's that refreshed and strengthened. Being so near to God's heart meant He was so intimately close. Sometimes I couldn't feel Him - yet I knew I was held by Him. Like looking at a mountain. From a distance, we notice the curves, colors, and peaks. When you're in the mountain, it's a different experience. That's what life near the veil is like - and these are some of the lessons learned. 1. Grief is just as much a part of our day as joy and boredom and any other emotion. I've come to embrace the deep and momentary grief that has come. It feels counterintuitive, but I've found true healing has come by giving grief its due space. 2. In my small story of suffering, recovery, joy, and hope, Jesus is here and co-s

  Powerful is your arm! Strong is your hand! Your right hand is lifted high in glorious strength. Psalm 89:13 The night before my fourth chemo - when I was uncertain if I would be healthy enough for treatment, I had a session with my therapist. She asked me what I needed from God for tomorrow and all I could do was cry. The weight of living in this middle space - in the waiting - made me so anxious. It felt I was paused at treatment three with no promise of four and hope felt too dangerous. All I needed from God that Friday was to hold me. To feel His nearness. I was at the end of myself, having exhausted all striving and resources. There was nothing I could control or fix. That night, weeping to God, I surrendered, waved my white flag, and began to rest in Him. In prayer, I let Him know I await a miracle. I await His intervention. Truly all will know it’s Him and He will get the glory for doing the impossible. God restored my body to receive chemo four. Though the symptoms and pain we