Head Start

I used to wish

transplant had occurred

not on the 30th but the 31st…

to parallel my start

with a new beginning around the world

but then

today

I realized something.

Maybe

God gave me a head start

You know, like a Day 1

before the rest of the world

woke with their own

intentions -

A

moment that was

mine

a day to myself

… little did I know how many

days I would have

in transpant

how many days

in the unknown

days that no

one knew -

it was an abyss

and that pain

it was impenetrable

like a soul without a body

New Years Eve

my day 1…

an every day

reminder

of all that is me

of why it matters

of what it is

never mind

the pulse

of survival

it’s the

miracle

of

what it

meant

because nothing

went right.

I did not eat

and I did not

smile

But

I did want to live

and I did

fight

though

everything was fog

and I

was flying free -

a soul without

a body

for a short time

no one knew

there weren’t any

answers

just faith

and pain

so much pain

little did

I know

the strength

it would give me

or how it

prepared me

for what was

to come

little did I ever think

Cancer

would ever be part

of my life

I turned in

my membership

quit the club

and lived….

little did I know

i was granted a

lifetime

pass,

But here

i am

Day 1

little did I know

how absolutely

unbelievable

my life would be

that I would

have

a miracle child

and be

granted the

honor of

being her

mother

or that

i would be gifted

with fa amily

who continues to

believe in me

despite

the fact

that nothing has

gone the way

I thought it may

and

little did i know

the veil

of the spiritual realm

was so thin

and that

my connection

would stay so strong.

May I always

celebrate

Day 1

AMEN

Celebrate

There is so much I want to say…

so much I need to say.

But I can’t say it all today.

Because you don’t have that much time.

Still

It’s that time of year.

Just like 1992…

every sound, texture, and breath

it is that moment

I know my soul

it’s all there -

quietly recorded in

every cell of my body -

I didn’t participate

in research …

I am research

Living and breathing

And

29 years ago we had an

early Christmas -

left home for Milwaukee, WI

towards my only future

one that didn’t even exist yet

in St. Louis -

I can’t remember

more pain or agony

just being

was excruciating

and so

I will pick this up, again -

tomorrow

AMEN

Be kind.

Some of you know this. Some of you do not.

The life saving meds I take for living with stage four cancer are tough. And I’m tough. But. Sometimes the effects are tougher.

… everyday is a battle cry of sorts. Mostly all is well.

I have physical and cognitive struggles. Some of the changes reflect in my handwriting and in being able to look at a word and write it. Or think of a word and write it. Often my own name. I know it. But it’s a thought process.

When you wake up you brush your teeth. It’s probably not super conscious. For me I need to put the concepts together now. Toothbrush + toothpaste + turning sink water on.

It’s not this challenging every single moment. Though it is a part of every single day.

Mostly I can laugh my way through it. Though I was never this scattered before. I lost the girl who had it together. She may have even locked the door.

And why do I share this today. It’s simple really.

Because of some very unkind women last night. Women who do not know my story.

As I explained my cognitive wits are sketchy these days. It’s makes everything more challenging.

I checked out at Target last night and as I left the register - I had that moment. I knew the next objective was to get to my car. But I was struggling to sequence the steps. In what felt like just a moment - three women looked me up and down, laughing, while one emulated me saying oh I will just stand here in everyone’s way….

First. I actually wasn’t in the way.

Second, as she wizzed pass me with her cart (and gang) she continued… she is so ridiculous that’s how I treat people like that. See, as she looked to the other women for approval. They all continued laughing.

People like what, I thought, as my eyes welled up.

Just then I realized I would take the cart out with me. Then grab my purse. Then the bags.

I made my way to the car. Finished the sequence and cried all the way to pick up Stella. I was mad at them. Mad at myself. And tired.

Then a friend pulled up, undoubtedly saw my puffy eyes and offered such compassion. She gave me the strength I was praying for… She was kind, authentic and present.

These kind people… are the people who meet you on your journey, become woven into your story, and enrich your soul. Thank you.

be kind.

AMEN.

Hark

Hark.

I know

this

is my journey….

the strength

is that

of

twine

sometimes

unraveled,

till

almost

fatal, though

the

thread

was

never the

mir-acle

force

from which

I grew

wings.

Nor did

steps

rise from

ribs

but veins

that

voices

moved to

that space

of which

I tend -

the

broken….

transformed

by

weakness

only

a breath of surrender -

pain -

only

a vessel for glory.

Hark.

The blessings,

of

warrior - mystic

purpose.

AMEN.

Grace Divine

I used to have what I think one would define as confidence…

then it kind of just

flickered out -

like a light left on too long

 - not a glowing light, but the

embers of something that wasn’t quite able

to shine

and I think I can trace this

subtle ebbing -

The certain disintegration of a spirit…

but the ability to track

doesn’t account for any understanding.

Its like this wilted flower,

but know one knew of its bloom

only its demise

and it knew itself only as is…

and so

this was her mirror

but how could she revive

what was no longer

and was this sort of magic, this miracle

within her grasp

or did it just barely escape her?

So then all the judging

did they even know her –

or just the empty vessel

of this former self

and why did it matter -

perhaps it didn’t.

Still, if there was to be a rise -

 this shell of self must

reunite with something familiar.

And if only a stranger looked back at her

how could this manifestation

take place except in

some wild imagination of

what could be, but not what is…

Because when someone

confirms, what you think you

may think about yourself -

it locks into an unconscious

picture that

becomes a map

and though you may not

think you are following

its decided end -

you are in fact,

in route to this

abandoned place.

Still as before

this is no end -

it isn’t even a breath…

It just passed

so fleeting

that it could be

mistaken for nothing -

except for that

unmistakable

missing glint…

The eye

that just doesn’t meet

back up.

Because it is trying to

remember

that beautiful

person,

in that beautiful

moment,

when God was

exactly present

and she was

exactly present…

and

maybe you don’t

shine there

because you

aren’t a flashlight

After all…

you came

with the light

of the moon

and of course

that’s an entirely

different song…

so to the ones that

declare a eccentric

out of center

maybe our source is divine -

And the transformation

Looks different

Because only

Miracles live

Here.

Like Living, Like Grace

It’s that moment

With all the light 

And it’s just you 

But like 

It’s just not that quiet

Cause you can hear 

All the 

Traveling 

Voices

Of 

The near

And distant 

Woes 

... 

Future 

Turmoil 

As it bends

Breaks

Shatters 

Your breath 

And 

Falls 

Softly

With a 

New thought 

To replace 

The old 

Traveling slower 

Like peace 

Riding 

Waves 

Of chaos 

Mingling 

As 

One 

Into 

The dark

Of light 

beyond 

This anxious 

Waiting. 

Till. 

Don't Be A Ghost...

This is the voice I woke to -

in an ever-present cycle…

which -

is usually my indication from the Holy Spirit -

that there is a prayer

And

Fortunately for me, His patience is unbound,

and the message waits -

but it doesn’t stop -

it lingers, floats, drips, and tussles until it has my focus

my divine and undivided attention,

Yes.

And so now, 4 hours after waking I am tuning into

Don’t be a ghost…

that former version of yourself, the survivor of dust

the settling of air

the quiet tiptoe of a life

unlived

un-breathed

and

Don’t be a ghost

a shell of a person

a facade

an empty vessel

because nothing can be taken

nothing is lost

all is ….

all IS

Take the scars

root in the wounds

be the gardener

of your soul

tend

dwell

Just

Don’t be a ghost

It’s not fear that captures us

or doubt that blinds us

its absence

the ambiguous withdrawal

The notes are settling

the tides returning

the message ceasing

Don’t be a ghost….

Amen.

Pilgrimage

It occurred to me this morning that I am on a pilgrimage…

And -

In this journey to a sacred place, I have these certain experiences…

And -

The sanctification of my trials continue to reveal -

That…

pain is not a curse but a blessing -

and pain has no essence except for what I assign to it -

otherwise, it just is…

And -

That is how you get out of bed, how you smile with such gratitude that you may cry…

It isn’t an abyss of affliction but an abundance of grace -

my reminder -

to seek and offer grace…

though I do stumble… quite often.

Hmmm.

But.

I offer this…

my humble petition -

to grow in this faith

And -

to be a light in this world

AMEN

Learning a Language...

Well, this is basically a confession, because…. well…

Every 3 weeks I have treatment - every 9 weeks I see my doctor…

and

in the mist that is the (in-between) - I

cope, or weather, or learn -

mostly I learn…

about my relation to myself - how to be in this new body, again…

I should know how to do this by now -

I wrote the book on it, literally - it just needs to find its way to print - regardless… I know this in my bones -

The point being, that - every 9 weeks I have a chance to tell my doctor of my experience - and

these new treatments are hitting me hard…

Not like rain hitting you hard in a crescendo of motivating beats… hard…

It’s like - how do I pace myself in this indefinite reality and maintain my understated identity as a warrior…

yeah that.

My doctor always asks me what I am doing for exercise… I mean I do walk -

but okay, it’s more like a walking dead - I can’t quite figure out this slow-motion fog…

… I very shamefully admit that I am not doing anything because I can barely stay up to 8 pm… sigh.

Of course, she never makes me feel bad, but does encourage me to try, that I may feel better.

Yesterday was not my day. Like every symptom in the book of symptoms kind of day.

So today, I figured, I have nothing to lose, I cannot be more tired, more in pain, or foggier.

So let me just try.

(I have a new amazing app so I cannot take credit for it all)

I answered a mindfulness question - check

Drank a glass of water - check

Woke my mind with 4 minutes of yoga - check (that felt really good)

Took a walk with friends at work - check

Stretched my body with another 5 minutes of yoga - check

I am learning a new language, the stillness of a quiet mind, to reach the corners of the struggle….

… it has a decibel that cannot be diminished, but it can be coached, nourished, and given a voice...

I am feeling really good, and I am truly excited to make my way in this journey, to see how God will use me.

Amen.

It's Possible that I am Funny...

I mean I have been told that I am funny -

The thing is that I don’t actually try to be funny….

It’s like this very real thing happens and I have this choice to feel it, and let it go - or let it swell and bury within…

And, I guess it took stage 4 cancer for me to choose the prior -

It’s certainly not easy - at least for me. Because I’ve been a dweller, an over-thinker, but….

then you realize this is the only true moment you have.

this is something within you, something that you battle…

it breaks an invisible glass of protection -

a bubble you always assumed was there…

Humor is my soul, the words are funny because the experience is real -

and in speaking this truth, in breathing it into existence we can look at it outside of ourselves, feel it without judgment - laugh

because it becomes hilarious -

which is why it is an art -

It’s an art that we cannot hold, nor script - it’s a connection with your vulnerable, honest self…

because humor is the light in your soul that transforms pain into strength…

It's Life... in one big breath

I promise this isn’t self-pity, it is just a means to get somewhere. A place I don’t quite know.

I am going to start by giving a little advice -

if you can avoid it, do not get diagnosed with breast cancer while your husband is divorcing you. Not only is not practical… it is insanely stressful…

But if for some reason you cannot avoid the above, do not - under any circumstances, relapse while he has you served 3 years later, in efforts to pay less child support and have more visitation with your daughter.

Not only is this also not practical - but it is also extremely expensive because don’t forget - you also have the medical bills on top of the lawyer fees…

Of course, these are just the details. nothing that important.

What keeps you up at night is that you have stage 4 cancer and a child that you desperately want to keep safe.

You want to put all your time and energy into this and nothing else….

But there are insurance problems, court documents, treatments, and well, life-

This still isn’t the worst part.

It’s that the guy who said he never signed up for this, that he only wanted to be the fun uncle doesn’t give us room to breathe.

That it is always about him.

And God, I know He is present, but it doesn’t stop the nightmares, or isolation, or fear.

But it does give me hope. And besides Grace, that is what I need most.

We know who wins at the end… just got to make it to the final screen.

Soul Story

So much of this has to be fought on a different front - and i have to go to another place…

and it’s isolating, but it’s not dissociation - I used to think it was….

the best way I can think to describe it is a deep desire to connect

while feeling completely invisible -

because there is a spiritual shield - like a going inward that is only learned near-death…

when the veil becomes very thin -

It is a prayer that becomes so familiar, so known, that you know it only to be true…

But it gets so quiet

You feel like you are screaming but no one actually hears

And so

the silence becomes the prayer, the way of being, the grace, and the answer to the call.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring or what the scans will show….

I know that every moment of my life has been miraculous, so I should expect nothing less…

I know with God All Things Are Possible and I know He will be with me tomorrow.

I know that I am tired, but I also know -

He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted…

My face has changed with each experience of cancer.. this used to scare me……

But i think i just see a little more of my soul exposed with each battle…

So I just keep showing up -

Pray for me tomorrow. We have some clean scans to make….

AMEN

Always a Call...

It is that Spirit always rising…

Always calling

like the painted colors of morning…

Still, in silence, but strength unwavering -

it bends, but not to break…

Trust the fall, trust the bend

it is in the whisper of the call

the weight of the air, this voice

Strength is in listening, in

hearing

because surrender is never completely silent

in humility, in this pause -

in this moment

I smile - it is this faith

it is this hope

and I end my prayer

AMEN

All of It....

I don’t have time for cancer. It’s all consuming. It may sound crazy but honestly who has time?

I am a mama and I work outside the home too. My daughter goes to school and she dances. There is laundry, lunches, and so many forms due on so many days! And I write it all down but then I forget.

And then I try to educate myself on cancer, what to eat and not eat… and it’s expensive, but then you make your best effort, and then you decide to save money and you slide, but then you remember that it is your life at stake and you realize you better figure this out.

And then you have other factors in life fighting against you that you cannot control…. so you try to practice your mindfulness. YOU PRAY…. you remind yourself that God will take care of you and it’s okay…

But then you realize you are really going to have to learn how to be calm in the storm… because prayers don’t stop the storms, they just give you courage… but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough…

And in all your time praying you realize you didn’t drink any water today, you have not worked out because you are still looking for the perfect gentle exercise, and you skipped a day in your 21 day gratitude journal transformation…. so back to day 1.

In the meantime you didn’t turn in those super important forms, and you are so angry at yourself for not getting your organization correct.

And then you definitely need more coffee because you think that may help….

but then you look at your TO DO list and you think…. “I don’t have time for cancer.”

and you just keep doing the best that you can.

AMEN

A Life in Narration

I don’t need to be good at cancer.… so it’s okay that I don’t know how to do it perfect. It’s okay that I don’t know if I’m doing it right.

I just have to keep practicing. Keep listening. Keep learning.

Because my body tells me so much.

I felt so betrayed the first time I was diagnosed with cancer....

Like my body went rouge.

Then I reconciled with my body. Began to trust it...

and the cancer came back.

Then I fought unbelievable odds for a miraculous survival

Then years later...

I had cancer again. But I truly new this would be it. They would cut my thyroid out and that would be it.

So I thought.

Little did I expect a diagnosis of breast cancer…

nor did I expect the scars to burn years later as the nerves continue to heal.

Little did I think I would lose my hair again.

Little did I expect the symptoms and debilitating pain.

But then I was good.

And I began reconciling with my body... AGAIN.

And then I started to have pain in my ribs. Like excruciating pain.

And I thought NO WAY.

I felt bad getting the tests. I just knew that I must have forgot hurting myself.

My doctor asked if I was in an accident that I forgot about…. ummmmm no.

But nothing and no one could ever have prepared me for this current diagnosis.

And I just freaked. Cause for the first time I thought maybe this is my reality.

Is this my life?

And then I just couldn’t understand it.

It wasn’t a why me it was just why?

And life didn’t stop for me to figure it out.

I quickly had my ribs removed and continued with chemotherapy

It’s okay, because I am a warrior… and there is no way God is finished with me yet… it’s time to write this story.

Oh, and I am halfway finished with my treatment soooooo….. let’s just pray I am miraculously healed, cause why not?

AMEN

Speaking in Glory...

I did not realize my prayer life

afforded me visits with Spirit. ..

And that my daily dizziness and exhaustion vanished

when I was PRESENT with the HOLY SPIRIT

Cause I walk in faith, not in doubt

and those are two completely different paths

and in one….

I have clairvoyance – like an inner seeing. …

And clairaudience - like a clear hearing

and Claircognizance – like a clear knowing.

When I diseregard my blessings I feel exhausted, confused and down.

Because as I have said,

the story is the miracle

and the miracle includes all parts - what you see, and hear and know…

So here I am

alone (like the kind when you have to make your hero journey)

No one can desire my life

more than I can

So I have to find that

precious alignment

in breathing beauty

and letting go of all else.

Because it’s not mine to carry

I’ve picked up stones

I wasn’t meant to hold-

hatred that was never

meant for me

But here I am

REALIZING

I can hear, see and know

that I am a child of God

And I am not meant

to walk in dark waters alone…

I AM BAPTIZED IN CHRIST

AMEN.