LOVING WELL

I went to our Ladies Bible Study Class eager to begin the new study. A long-time fan of this particular mentor, I knew that the material would boost growth. I looked forward to the study and digging through Scripture to see what new lessons God had in store for me.

But I never would have suspected…..

A TUMOR…

I opened the little companion journal to begin my study.

For this is the message that you have heard from the beginning,

that we should love one another. I Jn. 3:11.

 This learned teacher challenged: ask God to show His love to you. She explained that for us to fully understand how to love others well, as directed in 1 John, we must fully know how much we are loved. So,– just ask. Let Him show me how much He loves me so that I can love well.

See what kind of love the Father has given to us,

that we should be called children of God; and so we are. I Jn. 3:1.

This tumor…

 This was my answer. I gave my life to Christ many years ago and, at times, I have learned that God’s ways are not always mine. With Bible, pen and journal ready, we began this journey.

 And this is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son, Jesus Christ and love one another, just as He has commanded us. I Jn. 3:22.

I had not been feeling well for several weeks, and complications began rapidly increasing. I scheduled yet another doctor’s appointment reluctantly. I really dreaded the idea of surgery but was so ready for life to return to normal.

 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,

declares the LORD, Is. 55:8.

(Did I mention that a beautiful new grandson had been born during this time of my struggles. I was so anxious to feel better so that I could get to know this precious boy.)

Upon my gynecologist advice, I checked into our local hospital for what was supposed to have been a quick exploration with a scope and small procedure to “fix’ my problems. “Lasts only twenty minutes and home before lunch” were my expectations.

I called my prayer warriors with an update and climbed into the hospital bed with confidence. I woke up from an anesthesia nap to see my hubby’s smiling face. Still groggy, I said, “Well, how did it go?”

His face changed as he cleared his throat and so did my future with the next few words.

“He wasn’t able to do the procedure. He found a mass, a tumor… and it is big. Bigger than a softball.”

An MRI was scheduled and the nurse came in to check my vitals. I was told that I could dress and go as an outpatient for the test. But it seems there was another plan at work. As I stood to dress, the hemorrhaging started and I began a rapid decline from that point until days later.

But this was also the place where God began to show His great love to me.

We love because HE first loved us. I Jn. 4:19.

I was lavished love by my Abba Father so thoroughly that I pray to never forget.

 Amidst a whirlwind of activity, I was shown this FATHER love. As I was tucked back into a hospital bed following the MRI and admittance to the Women’s Center, our Pastors, deacons, and friends began to appear. A dear couple brought warm soup to feed my hungry husband as he remained posted near me. Emails, texts and phone chains called for action and believers around the country started interceding on my behalf. After a difficult night, the doctor’s referral sent me packing toward the skilled hands of an oncology surgeon in our capital city. The medical staff met me with ready orders upon my arrival. I was whisked from wheelchair to table where a central line was stitched into my artery, then x-rays, IV fluids, a catheter, oxygen tubes, and a fleet of attentive caregivers took excellent care of my urgent needs.

Although events were rapid and my strength was draining away with the excessive and continuing blood loss, I had peace. It was an incredible feeling to be totally and completely at ease, even as words were being hurled around me that should have caused hysteria. “Tumor. Extremely large. Possibly not benign, as I had first thought. Sending you to an oncology specialist. Very low blood count. High risk surgery. Transfusions. Side effects…” and yet, PEACE.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. I Jn. 4:18.

Over and over, I had opportunity to tell doctors, nurses, those attending to my need, of HIS great love and care for me. I had peace. Even as my physical strength felt completely spent, my heart remained calm. No questions, no fear, no real anxiety. Because HE loved me so well. HE knows always just what I need and I knew that I was getting the best possible care. What more could I ask? No need to question, just rest.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. Ps. 36:7

A kind and gentle man introduced himself to me, my surgeon. He inquired, gathered history, examined, diagnosed my situation. Surgery was set.

As bag after bag of fluids and blood was hung on the pole, sweet faces hovered close. Husband, children, parents, siblings, nieces, pastors, deacons, friends, all alternated around my bedside. My hand was held, my needs were met, I was greatly loved. A gentle knock yielded delivery of a magnificent bouquet and a flowering plant soon followed. Cards and gift bags ringed my bed. Books, flowers, a mug bearing Scripture, snacks, new nightshirts, makeup, gift certificates, etc., were all products of more loving kindness. Special loved ones drove hours to lend support. HE never left me. I was loved.

 My double room was made private and my hubby was allowed to sleep in the unused bed. A guest tray took care of his nourishment and spared him leaving and expenses. More love, more blessings. FATHER and husband kept watch over me. What comfort!

In peace will I both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety. Ps. 4:8.

                                                                                                                            

As I lay shrouded in a blanket inflated with warm air (amazing), and tasks were readying me for surgery, my parents were led into the tiny holding room. Forms were signed and I was asked if all was clear. YES. I had HIM. I had no fear, only peace as the blanket that covered me. Husband, parents and me, we all joined hands and my daddy petitioned for my safekeeping. LOVE. HE heard. Two more units of blood brought the total to seven as  doctor and team worked. Surgery was a success!

While I slept blissfully unaware in recovery, the surgeon assured my waiting husband, family and friends that the almost volleyball-sized tumor had been removed and the complete hysterectomy would assure no recurrence of like problems. Everything removed was suspected benign, but a pathology report would confirm the biopsy results within a few days.

God sent me more expressions of love at the hands of uniformed nurses who nurtured my recovery around the clock. I woke during the night and lay in the wee hours refreshed. As I listened to my husband’s exhausted snores across the room, I had time for praise. God had sent HIS Love to me at my lowest hours. I can assure you that I had never before experienced a time when my own strength had felt so void and my dependence so great, so near a point of dying, or felt so fully blessed. I lacked nothing. HE filled. HE became my strength. HE lifted me when I could barely lift my head. I was loved.

When I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me. Ps. 63: 6-7.

 My husband pushed outside his comfort zones and aided nurses as I made efforts to stand and walk and move progressively forward. Finally the day came when we could return home. Metal staples were removed from the vertical incision that divided my middle. The surgeon gave a final inspection of his handiwork and laid the pathology report on my bedside tray.

The tumor, BENIGN. PRAISE YOU, LORD!!!

Steps of the procedure was clearly explained in written form. Benign. PRAISE YOU, LORD!!!

Line upon line, typed proof, benign. PRAISE YOU, LORD!!! PRAISE YOU, LORD!!! All removed and dissected, all tested, all benign. PRAISE YOU, LORD!!!

We read line after line in praise. All was thoroughly evaluated and all gloriously cancer-free. PRAISE YOU, LORD!!!

(At this point, I might add that I have both parent and sibling who have been the recipients of a cancer diagnosis). I knew that as I had prayed over my own report, I was deeply loved. I knew that whatever the outcome, I would be no less loved. God would be with me, never forsake me, whatever the pathologist revealed. I praised God, understanding that even if I would need to face aggressive rounds of chemo or a shortened life span, HE would love me enough. HE would shelter me and protect me and see me through. Even if HE ushered me into HIS presence, I would be loved. Whatever the outcome, I had HIM to trust. There is joy in that kind of knowing True Love. A peace that passes all understanding….

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Rm. 15: 13.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Ph. 4: 7.

As we made the rather bumpy ride home, (Merging traffic, road construction and sneezes are less enjoyable with a large vertical division of your earthly being, just saying.) HIS love awaited our arrival. In the form of casseroles and pot roasts,veggies and salads, yeast breads and rich desserts, the members of our small group Bible study, Sunday School classmates and close friends brought love. Magazines and chocolates were hung in a bag on my door. Fruit baskets and fresh flowers adorned our tables. The Fed Ex driver deposited Sterling Roses at our threshold from our precious children and grands. And then the cards came. Texts. Emails. Facebook posts. Calls of encouragement. Day after day, I sat bandaged, healing, and was loved.

A minor infection required Home Health care and again, brought with it, love. A sweet pastor’s wife, this nurse that had recently worshiped with me at a church event, was able to administer ointment and encouragement. God sent love.

A short few weeks have passed. Notes fill my journal. I could write more of the many ways HE loves me and has loved me so intimately.   My body is mending– but I pray for my heart to remain always tender, remembering these sweet and difficult lessons of love. Who could know that a tumor would be a gift of grace, a mighty expression of HIS love?