The Elevator of "Promise"

On July 1 our family took a road trip. It was a hot smoky day and our destination was an old “ghost" town. Our plan was to have a picnic lunch, explore and take some pictures as the adventure unfolded. As it turned out, the only accessible part of the ghost town was the old grain elevator since the other buildings were in the middle of a farmer's field. At some point this location was used for a film and they had painted a new name on the front of the grain elevator. The word that stood out to me immediately was "promise". It seemed so timely because I was at a place where I was clinging to many of the Lord's promises to steady my mind and heart concerning the unknowns about my health at that time. After finishing our lunch we started to explore and our daughter Andrea started to take some pictures. As we got closer to entering the elevator you could see that the inside held very little “promise.” It was clearly in disarray, decay and destruction. It was dark and dingy. The air was thick and heavy with the stench of something that had died. The only way I could be at peace and enjoy being in there was if I kept my eyes focused on looking at the landscape outside & beyond the confinement of the elevator. When I started to look at what was surrounding me the peace quickly dissipated. As we stood in the middle of the debris we looked down and right at our feet were some baby birds. Three were dead and one was gasping for air and in the process of dying. I remember thinking, "What are we doing getting pictures taken while we stand in this dark place of death?" I just wanted to get out of there. It was soooooo surreal. There we were in the middle of decay, destruction and death and yet these sweet pictures were being taken of some real and tender moments between Harley and me. Once Harley and I got out of the elevator we walked giddy-like down the road and savored the abundance of the fresh, though smoky, air and the beauty of the open & vast landscape. It was so freeing to be out of that elevator and yet I don't regret going through it because of the sweet and tender moments Andrea captured with her camera. I think my chemo journey is going to be a lot like our encounter at the elevator of promise. Tomorrow I will sit in the chemo chair for the first time. It will be uncomfortable and my surroundings will not be pleasant. The atmosphere in the chemo administering room is somber and maybe for many a very dark place of decay with undertones of death looming. I'm told by many that though the chemo process is destructive it also holds promise; it kills the cancer that is killing me. I can't forget the sight of those baby birds at our feet in the elevator. Three dead & one gasping fighting to stay alive. Maybe that will be what the cancer cells look like as the chemo does its job. Of course I realize that those baby birds could also represent my healthy cells dying and fighting to stay alive and even if this is the case I am choosing to focus on & trust the One that will have total control & final say on what the chemo does and does not do to my body. By His grace & mercy I will endure and cling to the promise of His words Romans 8:27-28 "And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose." Romans 11:36 "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen." Oh Lord, please help me to stand firm through this light and momentary affliction of cancer and be able to look out beyond its temporary confinement looking to the eternal purpose and joy that is set before me in Christ Jesus while pointing others to the same hope. It is by His grace I can say that I am thankful for the cancer as He uses it to draw me ever closer to Himself. I covet your prayers. In His Care, 1 Peter 5:6-7 ~ Rhonda

Time to walk the chemo path...

So, here it is Sept 12. I can't believe how this past month has flown by since getting my "official" diagnosis. As I look back at the way information has come to light I can see, without a doubt, how the Lord has been guiding every step of the way. Even before being diagnosed there were two woman and one man with lymphoma that had crossed my path in some way. Their journeys were much the same...they were in the midst of walking along the "chemo path" or they were finished and flourishing on the other side of it. Again, this was before I was officially diagnosed and when I listened to their stories I knew that many of their symptoms were matching mine and I remember thanking the Lord many times for the way He was preparing my mind and heart for the diagnosis to come. Since the diagnosis of lymphoma there have been even more stories and it has sure helped in making the decision to not wait to do chemo. Next week is my bone marrow biopsy which will be used by the oncologist to match my chemo treatment to. My chemo will start within a week following the biopsy. (as I write "my chemo" it still seems so odd) There have been opportunities for me to share the Gospel and I'd ask that you join me in praying that the Lord would continue to open doors and give me boldness to give an account for the hope that is within me. Please pray for Harley, Andrea, Joey and our grandchildren as we journey through this as a family. That I would not get distracted by the cancer and the procedures ahead but that I would have confidence that the Lord will accomplish His purpose in using the chemo in my body. This week, Harley read in Joshua and over and over again the exhortation to be "strong and courageous" rang out. Oh, that the Lord would grant me the ability to be strong and courageous to share the gospel and to keep my focus on the things that are eternal as I go through this "light and momentary" affliction. ~ Rhonda 1 Peter 5:6-7