(Each week in November, I am sharing a few excerpts from my recently published memoir of my time with ovarian cancer in 2015. The words in italics are from my journal entries. Here is one I wrote shortly after my treatment plan was in place. I hope this excerpt blesses you this week!)
~~~~~
With a treatment plan now in place, my own personal plan was to live with joy. I would let Dr. Phibbs and Whitney do the monitoring of the cancer; I would solely focus on my healthy lifestyle, my spiritual well-being, and my relationships. I would stand firm while the medical staff fought the battle. I found the perfect Bible verses for my goal, a passage our youth group had chosen for an earlier mission trip: “Stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love” (1 Corinthians 16:13b-14 NIV).
I am in a good place this morning. I had a restful night, and I feel ready to face this battle. I KNOW the next six months will be very difficult, painful, and stressful. But others have endured all of this and have since returned to wellness and wholeness. I may be surprised by how much better I will feel.
I don’t care for the analogy of “battle” in this journey to wellness. It’s not me; I am not a fighter. I will consider this cancer to be an unwelcome guest, a guest I will soon escort out of my body with the help of medicine and Dr. Phibbs. How many battles can we win if we are forthright and determined, simply denying the enemy any chance to hurt us? Stand firm… stand strong… face the enemy and turn it away. Let it know it doesn’t have a chance with me.
The medicine will do the battling.
I will do the strong standing.
All we have is this day. Any of us. That’s why Jesus tells us to not worry about tomorrow. He will give us strength for each day, like manna. We are to enjoy this day, live it well. Savor and know that this day is a gift from God.
I will stand strong, here and now.
Photo by Karen, Schedel Gardens, Elmore OH
My memoir, What Would You Have Me Know? Contemplation and Companionship in a Time of Cancer is available in paperback or Kindle. During my time with cancer, I deeply sensed God’s loving presence through my prayerful reflections and the kindness of others. I wrote this book as a gift of gratitude to God and the caring people in my life–but I pray that it may also serve as a source of peace and hope for any reader.
(This month, as I focus on writing reflections for the Advent season, I will share a few excerpts from my recently published memoir of my time with ovarian cancer in 2015.)
This is a prayerful journal reflection, written on Holy Saturday–the day before Easter–shortly after my diagnosis…
(Holy Saturday – April 4th)
I am anxious and a little (a lot) fearful today. The thought of a possible hysterectomy brings a few concerns. With our upcoming family graduations, I worry about the timing of any procedures. I wonder if this will affect my walking routine. I wonder how my body will feel if organs are removed. The mind travels swiftly to unknown places.
And, in my darkest fleeting moments, I think about more serious issues. I wonder how much life I have left to enjoy, how many moments with Jim and my precious family, how many Christmas celebrations, how many writing opportunities. No one has any guarantees, but times like these show us how fragile we are.
Lying awake in the darkness last night, I thought of Jesus in the deep darkness of the tomb on this Holy Saturday. This day has new significance for me. Right now, I am in the place of dark unknowing, as I await answers and healing. How will this darkness—this liminal space—transform me? Thank you, Jesus, for showing us how wonderfully this does happen, how you were transformed from death to resurrected life. I trust that God still has much for me to do… to learn… to be.
Creator God, found in Jesus in the darkness of the tomb,
I am afraid of the unknown, of what may lie ahead. But I know you love me, and you love my dear family. Help me to cast away my fear and to lean on you. You know this darkness (a thousand times more than I do), for you have experienced the tomb.
Thank you for understanding my anxiety; thank you for forgiving my fear and doubt; thank you for your promise to heal me. Keep me centered in you. Please hold Jim and our family in your loving care in these days ahead. Thank you for the ways you have been teaching and transforming me throughout this life. Continue your work in me. The liminal space has begun—that time between death and resurrection, change and healing.
I wait in the darkness, with you by my side, for tomorrow there will be a resurrection!
(Photo by Karen)
My memoir, What Would You Have Me Know? Contemplation and Companionship in a Time of Cancer is available in paperback or Kindle. During my time with cancer, I deeply sensed God’s loving presence through my prayerful reflections and the kindness of others. I wrote this book as a gift of gratitude to God and the caring people in my life–but I pray that it may also serve as a source of peace and hope for any reader.
Tranquility: free from agitation of mind or spirit; free from disturbance or turmoil; unvarying in aspect; steady, stable.
My soul has been in disarray in these recent weeks. The upcoming election in our country is testing my spirit, bringing out the worst in me at times. I have also been concerned and grieved for loved ones, dear family and friends who are going through trials. Then I have struggled to write anything of substance, aside from political thoughts on my personal Facebook page (are you relieved that I am not posting those here?). 😉
And so, in this morning’s journal reflection with God, I expressed my longing to write words of comfort and encouragement, asking God what I should know for such a time as this. I sensed a simple reply: Think about what you would want to hear from me and write about that.
These thoughts came to my soul…
Look around at the beauty of creation. As you are delighted by the radiant colors of autumn, inspired by the mystery of each season, and comforted by the rhythms of each yearly cycle, you can trust that I am still present. Pay attention. I am here with you. Keep your focus on me more than your troubles.
Life is continuing, changing, evolving–not without its trials and struggles–but always offering growth, insight, and deepening trust. Open your heart to let me work in you–revealing, teaching, guiding, assisting. Open your heart to let me work through you–writing, serving, loving, sharing.
Let John Ortberg’s words, “Life is not about avoiding pain but the pursuit of God,” remind you that the pursuit of me is the most important purpose of your life. Keeping that goal in mind, you can endure and persevere. Find your peace in the pursuit itself. Do what you can to make a good difference today and entrust the rest to me.
In Jesus I have promised that there is always a resurrection. Cling to that.
This journey is like climbing a mountain. The higher you climb, the more difficult it becomes; you grow weary, out of breath, and the elements seem to be against you. But each step brings you closer to the mountaintop, to the beautiful vista, to the reason for your climb. Link arms with your comrades, take time to breathe, seek my guidance, notice the goodness, and journey on.
The dawning of a new day is coming.
Definition from Merriam Webster
John Ortberg quote is from his podcast episode, “Your Life is NOT About Avoiding Pain” (October 22).
Photo by Karen, Valley Park, Hurricane, WV
I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.
John Burroughs
My time hiking on Meeks Mountain last week refreshed my soul, and today I offer you a bit of that beauty. I hope this serves as a peaceful pause for your day. May you walk in peace and share your peace with others this week!
I lift up my eyes to the hills—
from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2
Leave the road, take the trails.
Pythagoras
When you do something noble and beautiful and nobody noticed, do not be sad.
For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps.
John Lennon
O come, let us worship and bow down;
let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!
Psalm 95:6
We still do not know one thousandth of one percent of what nature has revealed to us.
Albert Einstein
The seasons change and you change, but the Lord abides evermore the same,
and the streams of His love are as deep, as broad and as full as ever.
Charles Spurgeon
(Quotes found from a variety of sources; photos by Karen)
Have I mentioned I LOVE my new hip? 😉
While out walking last week, I saw two neighborhood friends coming my way from down the road. I was puzzled when they began to laugh in my direction–until they were close enough to explain. They initially thought that I was Connie, another walking friend who covers her miles quite swiftly and smoothly. From a distance, these two didn’t recognize me without my limp. I am happy to no longer have that limp as one of my identifying traits!
But soon I was pondering… What do I want my identifying traits to be? How do I want to be recognized or remembered?
Reviewing the last week or so, I could be seen as the one who smiles and waves at everyone on her daily walks. The one who loves hiking in the woods. The one who longs to share God’s love through her writing. The one who sends postcards to encourage people to vote. The one who wants to help others. The one who speaks softly and kindly.
But I could also be seen as the one who becomes defensive and makes excuses for her mistakes. The one who holds disdain for certain political candidates. The one who writes about living with love, peace, and joy, but can also be irritable, anxious, or selfish. The one who refrains from speaking up for others. The one who worries in the darkness.
I still walk through life with a limp of sorts.
Then I think of Jacob, who ends up with a blessing–but also a limp–after wrestling with an angel (Genesis 32). In my own spiritual wrestling, God often reveals the ways I am limping along in this life of faith, and like Jacob, I too can seek the blessing in the struggle:
With every limp that is revealed
I learn to lean on you,
so others see that yes, I’m loved
though I am broken, too.
With every faltering step I take
I need to hold your hand,
and when my progress feels quite slow
your presence helps me stand.
When my gait becomes unsteady
I seek your steadfast strength
to keep me on your loving path
no matter what its length.
And as I stumble on in life
I trust you’ll guide my way.
Show me the steps that I should take
to love and serve each day.
I hope that when my journey ends
my true identity
will be as one who walked with you
and loved (imperfectly).
By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13:35)
(Photo taken by Jim. Thank you, Honey!)
A few years ago, my son-in-law and I laughed about his penchant for tooth flossing, after he admitted that he likes to keep them in handy places all around the house. Shortly after our time together, I was on my morning walk when I noticed a tooth flosser on the ground, so I took a photo and sent it to him with a greeting, “Thinking of you!” That began my practice of taking a photo each time I found one of these little tools, so I could send him another teasing text message.
But soon these funny moments became eye-opening moments. I never anticipated that I would find so many discarded flossers simply by paying attention. Our little joke gradually lost its humor; it seems that people care more about their dental hygiene than they care for our earth. One might cast aside a used flosser without any consideration… What harm can this one little bit of trash do? But here, just in my small part of the world, I have already found more than fifty (not all are shown).
Small acts can lead to significant impacts.
The lesson for me today is to be aware that yes, I am an individual, but I am also an integral part of a collective whole. One small act of negligence–casting aside a piece of trash, passing by a stranger in need, purchasing a product in a plastic container, assuming others will help so I don’t need to–will be compounded by every person who does the same.
Fortunately, a small, individual act can also grow into a significant impact for a better world. One small donation to provide hurricane relief combines with other donations to help more people. One thoughtful, informed vote combines with the votes of all who desire fair and just governance. One act of care for a neighbor inspires that neighbor to do the same.
Rather than taking a photo, I should pick up these flossers and discard them properly… one small change I can make to contribute to a cleaner environment.
In what ways will our small acts contribute to the world this day? Will we act with negligence, apathy, disregard? Or will we act with compassion, responsibility, integrity? Will we cause additional harm, or will we contribute to the greater good?
May we choose well.
We are here to change the world with small acts of thoughtfulness done daily rather than with one great breakthrough. ~ Harold S. Kushner
There is no small act of kindness. Every compassionate act makes large the world. ~ Mary Anne Radmacher
I think it’s an aggregation of all of the small acts that are really transformative. I think a group of small acts transform the individual. And maybe when the individual transforms, collectively we transform.
~ Chris Abani
(Photos by Karen. Quotes found at https://www.azquotes.com/)
I once walked to this meadow each morning to take in the beauty and at times, capture the sunrise. The meadow became my treasured sacred space that was an easily traveled distance from home. So, I was quite disappointed when plans were then made to turn the meadow into a recreational facility, yet grateful that it would serve as an outdoor gathering space.
While the park was under construction, I mostly avoided the area, but last weekend I returned…
The park is impressive but, on that morning, it was filled with lots of activity; there were baseball games and a disc golf tournament, as well as parents and children on the playground. “So much for my solitude time,” I selfishly thought. But as I continued along my route, I observed joyful smiles and laughter, competitive camaraderie, and pregame nervous anticipation. My heart softened.
And I thought, “This park is serving the greater good. Yes, the change was a significant loss for me, but now it is a lovely gift for many.”
What leads to serving the greater good?
Sometimes it is accepting our individual sacrifice for the betterment of others, such as losing “my” meadow for this recreational park.
But it can also be our collective inconvenience for the greater good of the few, such as using a portion of our taxes to help provide for those in need. Or the one individual sacrifice that helps one other person, such as taking time to rake a neighbor’s yard. Or the collective inconvenience for the collective good, such as all of us making changes to care for the earth’s environment. And finally, to serve the greater good means that we prioritize what is important in our individual lives; balancing self-preservation and self-sacrifice, discerning the issues on which we will stand firm, the privileges we will concede.
Serving the greater good is less about numbers and more about impact. When we consider what choices to make, what actions to take in order to foster this greater good, we might first ask ourselves, “What will bring about God’s greater goodness? What will bring more of the better gifts, such as joy, peace, nourishment, beauty, hope, comfort, justice?”
May we each begin there.
Let’s be about leaving this world better than we find it each and every day. Our life is a testimony and through us divine loving is becoming more manifest. Greater good is calling upon us here in this world to be done this day… let’s go out and do some good. This is who we are. This is what we are about.
~ John Morton
(Photos by Karen)
(Written after yet another school shooting)
Each morning after I awake
and greet the early dawn,
I make a cup of coffee
then turn my laptop on
and wonder if my heart will break
with news of more lives gone.
Each tragedy is asking me
to bravely choose love’s cross,
to see where God is leading
amid this grief and loss.
Give me the courage, God, to be
a servant of your cause.
So I will let a candle burn
and weep with those who weep.
I’ll yearn for God’s direction
as a vigil I will keep.
God, show me ways to grow and learn,
to find your peace so deep.
Then give me wisdom, God, to say
the words that must be said.
That I may bravely take a stand–
release my fear and dread;
reveal what I can do today
so fewer tears are shed.
Give me the faith to kindly give,
to share more than my share,
forgive the ones who hurt me,
and then God, may I dare
to live as you would have me live
with love, and grace, and care.
Give me the strength to advocate,
assist the ones long scorned,
to hate only what you would hate,
and as we rage and mourn,
to find a way to legislate
so fewer griefs are borne.
What good may come from tragedy?
What answers might be found?
Can we learn to work together
and choose to be love-bound?
Can we become the remedy
and hate-filled guns put down?
A new hope rises deep within,
the dawn will come to be.
Begin your work within our hearts,
God–show us what you see.
Bring us together; make us kin
who live in unity.
(Photo by Karen, Valley Park)
My memoir, What Would You Have Me Know? Contemplation and Companionship in a Time of Cancer is now available in paperback. During my time with cancer, I deeply sensed God’s loving presence through my prayerful reflections and the kindness of others. I wrote this book as a gift of gratitude to God and the caring people in my life–but I pray that it may also serve as a source of peace and hope for any reader.
This morning, our two local churches–Cross of Grace Lutheran and St. Timothy’s in the Valley Episcopal–gathered together for an outdoor worship service and picnic. We also honored my husband, Jim, on his 30th Anniversary of Ordination into Ministry!
Today I am reflecting on his life of ministry and service. Years ago, his internship brought him from Little Mountain, SC, to Tiffin, OH (for this, I will always be thankful, for God was bringing him closer to me)!
Since that time, he has served as the pastor of several churches in Ohio, and more recently in West Virginia. As his wife, I have been privileged to witness him “behind the scenes”…
I have observed the prayerful reflection (and sometimes restless nights) he has put into his sermon messages. I have witnessed the helpful support he has provided for someone in need, quietly and often anonymously. More than once, I have heard him suddenly say, “this person is on my heart” and reach out with a caring call or text to check in. I have admired the friendly and humble way he has of connecting with strangers. I have seen him wrestle with his faith yet continue to trust in God’s goodness. I have marveled at his courage to take a visible stand for justice and defend the marginalized.
He has shared God’s love in our faith communities, but also with colleagues and students, coworkers and customer service folks, people in our neighborhood, our family, and me.
This 30-year milestone will move him to the “retired clergy” roster, but I know that he will continue to serve God and others, every day, in lots of ways. And I will keep learning from his example.
Thank you, Honey! You are a blessing in my life, and I thank God for you.
(Photos by Karen and friend, Angie T.)
Dear Reader Friends,
You may already know that I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2015. I am so grateful to be thriving now, nearly ten years later!
But I am also grateful that during those difficult days, I felt God’s presence so deeply, especially in my contemplations and in the caring friendships of others. And I felt this “nudge” that I was to write a memoir about God’s love in trying times, God’s love for everyone in all times. This project has been in the works since that time. I am so pleased to finally have it published! Here is the brief summary I wrote for the back cover:
On a lovely August morning, Karen begins her daily contemplative walk with her usual question:
“God, what would you have me know today?“
When she actually hears an astonishing, audible reply, Karen wonders what these words might mean. She will soon learn that this moment marks the beginning of her unforgettable journey through challenging trials and into deepening faith.
In this memoir, Karen shares the incredible ways she sensed God’s presence in a time of illness, fear, and heartache, as well as—thanks to contemplations and companions along the way—great peace, joy, hope, and love.
Karen’s hope is that this book, originally intended to serve as a gift of gratitude and comfort for her family and friends, might also be a source of encouragement, inspiration, strength, and peace for any who are going through cancer or other trying times.
With a first-time author’s budget, I chose to self-publish the book through Amazon. I truly know that professional editors would have made my book more polished. But I have written every word from my heart, and my hope is that my words may bless those who read them.
If you would like a copy of What Would You Have Me Know? Contemplation and Companionship in a Time of Cancer, the paperback book is available on Amazon for $15, and the Kindle version is $9.99. Thank you!