practicing

A short update today… maybe :) sometimes once I get going there’s more to say than I realized.

Things have been rolling along in terms of treatment here. I had my port put in on Friday. There were a few hilarious moments of laughing with the nurses that felt like a gift of humanity and connection in the middle of a weird and uncomfortable procedure. I also thought they were still freezing the area when they were actually doing the incision, but I was glad to not put that together until after it was over!
As they wheeled me out I thanked them all, and they wished me all the best for treatment. It was a simple kindness, but even now as I recall it I’m tearing up; it’s amazing how we’re made to need each other. To be seen, to be valued, to receive kindness and care from one another. It can never be taken for granted.

It was lovely reminder of how we can practice both giving and receiving this kind of simple connection with everyone we encounter. And I don’t think we should underestimate the impact it can have, on others but also on ourselves.

There’s a line from the daily prayer on the Lectio 365 app that always stands out to me, it reads:
“Jesus, help me to give myself away to others, being kind to everyone I meet.”

It’s certainly not always our natural inclination to give ourselves way to everyone, maybe especially when we feel we have already have low reserves. But I want to practice this, to choose it because I believe it’s the way of Jesus, because I trust that he knows it’s exactly what we need.

There were a few days of recovery after the procedure; I told Nathan that it kind of felt like I was shot in the shoulder, not that I would actually know lol. But it’s amazing how God has made our bodies to heal, and each day was a bit better.

Yesterday we went back for round 3 of chemo. The port incision was actually still a bit open and healing, but the nurses are amazing and all went smoothly. I’m very thankful that once I’m disconnected from this round tomorrow I will be tube-free for the time being.

In the days leading up to the chemo round, the days were I have more energy and motivation, I was trying to think about what I want to continue to practice and remember in the days that are less than great.
It feels hard to enter back into more days of feeling crumby in such a steady rhythm, and this time felt extra short on ‘better’ days because of the port recovery.

But there’s this beautiful mix of grace and invitation - to hold on to what is good, to stare it down, to stand firmly there, believing it will be enough to carry me through again to the days when how my body and heart feel, matches the truth of what my soul knows.

So I want to practice… and here’s some of what has been rising for me this week:

I want to remember the real things that don’t change no matter what my felt circumstances might be: I am not alone. Both because of a present God, and a glorious cloud of praying witnesses, I am held and seen. I am receiving that beautiful kindness of others from so many different directions.
And there is something hard about it; when we’re met with compassion and allow ourselves to be held in it, we feel the need as well as the comfort. But it’s a good, growing kind of hard, and I’m so thankful for the huge amount of love and prayers that we continue to receive.

I also want to remember, intentionally, God’s alongside-ness in every piece of these days.
I saw this image last week and it has stayed in my mind as a part of this remembering:

Aslan, the Lion King of Narnia, is an impactful depiction of Jesus with us. And I’ve been holding close the reminder of his faithful nearness and fierce protection surrounding me.

When I practice giving my attention to God’s presence, there are reminders everywhere:
Psalm 139, one of my all-time favs, popping up all over the place, in Scriptural reminders, in music, in memories.
The declared truth of God’s knowing and closeness to us no matter where we go, no matter what we’re doing.
These are good reminders to soak in, to remember, to let ripple out into our real days and our real lives.

I have also working on the practice of gratitude. It’s another straight-forward, and long known practice of goodness, but one that can slip away if I’m not intentional.

I’m been re-reading a book called Daring to Hope by Katie Davis Majors. It has been so timely and grace-filled for my soul again in this season. I’m grateful for the way we can remember what we know through others, through their own sharing and offerings, and I’ve been experiencing that in a number of directions too.

In the book, Katie talks about the practice of gratitude in front of our eyes, and she does that for a season by sticking up post-its in her kitchen each time she thinks of something she’s thankful for. So we’ve been using that practice in our house the last couple of weeks too - post-it notes on the wall in the kitchen as an active noticing and an ongoing reminder of how much we have to be thankful for.
Katie has so many beautiful and necessary things to say about what she’s learned from Jesus; here’s a little taste of the goodness she’s pouring out with him by her side:

“My grief was His grief and my joy was His joy. In my darkness, I knew Him and He knew me. In the midst of pain I would not have chosen, He was real and undeniable and true. When life was not what I expected, where hope was not what I thought, He carved a space in my heart for Him. This didn’t make the pain easy. Some days, prayers seemed to go unanswered and loss overwhelmed our lives. I still lay prostrate on the bathroom floor and beat my hands against the hard tile and begged the Lord that I would not have to bury yet another friend. I still cried tears that threatened to take my breath away as I realized the depth of the suffering of the people around me, grief that would never end, not until Jesus comes back. No, He didn’t make the pain easy. But He made it beautiful. He held me close and whispered secrets to me and revealed things about Himself that I had not yet known. He scooped me into His big loving arms and held me in tenderness unlike any I had ever experienced.”
― Katie Davis Majors, Daring to Hope: Finding God's Goodness in the Broken and the Beautiful

I know that a few more days of feeling close to the edge are coming.
But Jesus. Thank goodness for Jesus.

And I’ll keep on practicing, noticing, remembering his presence in all the ways I can, so that I can not just make it through these days, but see how I am carried, and that God will continue to work in and and through me as I do.

So, not that short as it turns out… :)
Grateful always for this space to ramble a bit, process, and notice and remind myself of what God is speaking.
I’m going to add that to the wall!
And maybe I’ll do it while listening to another belt-it-out Lauren Daigle song,
Thank God I Do: https://youtu.be/OoEr8BSsrxg?si=YWG4eXt9aos8SmBQ

Blessings on you today friends.
L xo