Forgot My Earrings

It was one of those mornings where I had to be at work earlier than my usual starting time.  I was buzzing around completing my morning routine and made it to work on time!  Woo hoo!  Good Cindy.  About an hour into my day I realized, to my horror, that I'd neglected to put on earrings.  

Now, for you gals with long, flowing tresses, this is a non-issue.  But for those of us with short, post-chemo hair (I drop the "cancer card" any time it's advantageous!) this ranks right up there with forgetting to brush your teeth.  Most people wouldn't notice but it drives you crazy...all.day.long!  

And, to top it all off, I had an interview that morning for a new position at the place where I already work...a promotion, if you will, so this was a BIG deal!  

I completed the interview and made it to the "second round" despite my naked ears.  

However, I have two thoughts brewing in my brain about this whole earring error.  

First thought:  If I don't get the job, it'll be because I FORGOT TO WEAR EARRINGS.  Plain and simple.  THAT will be the reason.  

Ridiculous, you say?  Of course it is!  We all know if I don't get the job, someone better qualified fit the match, but in MY head, it will be because I forgot my earrings (and she probably wore hers!).  

See how we are?  We want to place blame where it doesn't belong.  We become irrational, even ridiculous, okay, plain stupid sometimes because we want to blame someone or something else rather than just owning it ourselves.  

Second thought:  Forgetting one's earrings is not an earth-shattering, time-stopping life event.  But I sorta made it that, even if only in my head.  How easy it is to make mountains out of molehills.  Little things are simply that...little things.  

There's a whole lot more to me than my earrings and I would venture to say NO ONE at that interview even noticed that I wasn't wearing any.  

So the lessons here are: 

        Own your mistakes.  

             Don't blame others.  

                                            Little things are little things.  

And finally...                          

        Always wear earrings

Cleaning Up the Kids' Messes

When our kids were little it seemed all we did was clean up one mess after another.  Spilled beverages at the dinner table...cluttered bedrooms...stained shirts...broken toys.  Always something.  

As they got older, the messes we had to clean up weren’t nearly as frequent but often a bit more challenging and time consuming.   Out past curfew...strained relationships...grades...driving...dating.  

They became adults...left home...got married...had children.  Our days of cleaning up messes were over.  

Think again, oh parents of three and grandparents of six.  

Tonight we found ourselves in one of those “Mom, Dad, I need your help” kind of deals.  It was a mess.  Somebody needed to intervene and clean it up.  We were GLAD she called.  We did what was necessary without hesitation.  We’ve learned that when there’s a mess, SOMEBODY needs to clean it up and if WE need to be those somebodies, so be it.  

We thought it might be a bigger mess than it really was but we were prepared.  We prayed.  Others prayed.  And one little mother thousands of miles from her precious son had to trust the unseen hands of her heavenly Father and the tried and tested hands of her momma and daddy.  HE did not fail her.  WE did not fail her.  

We wish there weren’t messes but we all make them...no matter how old we are.  And sometimes we can’t clean up our own messes.  

So...that’s what God does for us.  That’s what we do for our kids. 

Remind but not Define

Dear BC,

Well, they cut you out of me and my doctor called and said they got ALL of you!  Woohoo!

I look at my scars and they do not remind me of what you took from me, but what I have left!  I have life.  I have peace.  I have joy.  I have family.  I have faith.  I have friends.  I am blessed.

While your scars will always remind me, they will never define me.

I am far more than a breast cancer survivor.

I am a daughter of the King.  I am the wife of a wonderful man.  I am the mother of three fabulous kids.  I am the grandmother of six precious little children.  I am a sister, an aunt, a daughter, a friend, a coworker, and a tough, sassy, inspired, determined, and truly grateful woman.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

Yep, me-n-Jesus...we got this!

/ch
3.23.2012

More Than Coincidence

'God-signs' are appearing everywhere in the most recent path I have been chosen to travel. Receiving the news that a mastectomy is the recommended solution to the cancer in my left breast (henceforth referred to as LB), left me feeling shocked, numb, and overwhelmed. Had a lot of information thrown our way. But, as I was reading/journaling/praying this morning, it occurred to me that God is right where He's always been and I have a hunch I'm gonna see more of these 'MORE THAN COINCIDENCE' things happen in my life. Hence, I blog, maybe to encourage you but to help me when I tend to flounder in feelings of fear.

IT IS MORE THAN COINCIDENCE...

*That several years ago God prompted my husband to send a gift card to his parent's primary care physician as a gesture of appreciation for the care and concern she gives them.

*That this SAME doctor, upon learning that we were moving back to the area, asked me to send her my resume STAT, leading to my hiring as a Patient Service Rep for the Cleveland Clinic

*That we have wonderful health insurance and that the week prior to my diagnosis, I completed my 90-days and am an 'official' employee

*That I was placed in the Dermatology & Plastic Surgery Departments when I was first hired by the Clinic and worked there for about 5 weeks before being transferred to ENT

*That on Tuesday 2.14.2012, after learning I'd need a mastectomy, Dr Ray Isakov 'just happened' to be at our facility and had an opening in his schedule to meet and talk with us about reconstruction (he's only there 1.5 days a week & it just so happened...)

*That my surgery date is 3.19.2012, which means I will be able to attend the MVNU Women's Auxiliary Spring Conference the weekend before (which is kinda important to me since I'm the president of the organization)!

*That at work last Thursday, as I was registering a patient, I complimented her on her hair cut and color and told her how cute she looked.  She smiled and informed me it was a WIG and she's a cancer patient!  We briefly swapped stories and she gave me the name of her wig place!  Coincidence...I say NAY NAY!  :)

STAY TUNED...I'M SURE THERE'S MORE TO COME

Beating Breast Cancer

Dear Breast Cancer,

It looks like we are beginning a new relationship, one YOU clearly initiated.

I want you to know right from the start that this is not permanent. I WILL break up with you. You are a bump in the road, not a death sentence.

You may hurt me but I will heal.

You may make me cry but I will not quit.

You may change my health but not my heart.

You may have caught ME by surprise, but NOT my Father.

He was way ahead of you, putting things together to make this journey smoother than you intend it to be.

You may bruise me but you will not beat me.

I am not afraid. I am at peace.

Bet you can't figure THAT one out...

Cindy

Pampering Problems

So today "Jesus Calling" hits me right between the eyes...AGAIN!

When your mind goes into neutral and your thoughts flow freely, you tend to feel anxious and alone. Your focus becomes problem-solving.

H...E...L...L...O!!! Been there...am there...doing that!

The solution is to choose to practice My presence.

I've been pampering my problems.

Today I will practice rather than pamper.

W...I...L...T...I...N...G...

Many days I feel like I am wilting where I'm planted.

All I can smell is fertilizer rather than the flower...the dung instead of the daffodil...the crap instead of the chrysanthemum...you get the idea!

A dear friend sent me a copy of "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young. It's written as if Jesus himself were actually speaking the words directly to you, and most days I find it right on!

Two days ago it spoke about swimming upstream against the current of [God's] purposes. Yesterday talked about letting circumstances toss you this way and that.

Why is it so hard to trust when you grow up? I don't remember having trust issues as a kid. Now I have them all the time.

Bermuda Shorts & Back Flips

I well remember the day I discovered my pastor was a REAL person. I was probably about 8 years old. We had been invited to the parsonage for a cookout. Exiting our car, there HE was...dressed, not in a suit and tie, but Bermuda shorts...acting like it was all normal or something! Like it's everyday I see my minister dressed like a tourist on the beach! If that wasn't enough, the evening progressed and he impressed us by doing back flips across the yard. I thought he was SO COOL! I'd never known a preacher who did stuff like that, and here it is, a whole bunch of years later and I still remember it!

Now I'm married to a preacher. I've never known him to do back flips, but he's pretty REAL and COOL to me. He wears shorts, though I don't think Bermuda is the term anymore, and watches football and news on TV. He drives a Mustang convertible and spikes his hair with gel. He likes to shop at American Eagle and orders Strawberry Frappucino's at Starbucks.

I like COOL preachers.

Comfortable in Your Own Skin

My Daddy was comfortable in his own skin.

He was who he was and was okay with that.

I don't ever remember him saying, "I'm too fat, I need to go on a diet".

I don't ever remember conversations about untruths people said about him. He didn't need to defend himself to them or us.

We KNEW who he was, so did he....others were just...well....wrong!

MISSING: "Want To" and "Woo Hoo"

I am a mess.

I've always been a "Suck-it-up-Get-over-it" kinda gal.

So when my Inner Dr. Phil asks, "How's that workin' for ya?", I must admit...not so good. My ability to suck it up and get over it has taken a hiatus. Therefore, this temporary departure has resulted in my serious lack of "want to" and a loss of my "woo hoo". Motivation and enthusiasm have vacated the premises, if you know what I mean.

Recent Sunday School lessons, sermons, and Bible study topics have all hit me squarely between the eye, right where I'm living. I'm not walking in a fog...I KNOW what's wrong, and I pretty much know where it came from and what caused it. What I do about it...now THERE's the rub!

The few with whom I've shared some of my struggles have said, "I understand"..."You've had a hard year. You lost your Daddy...you're living away from your family and kids"...and they are correct and there IS some sort of comfort in their compassion. But that too is a bit of frustration for me because...LOTS of people have lost their Daddy's...lots of people live away from their kids...lots of people SUCK IT UP AND GET OVER IT...why can't I???

I wish I could post a magical remedy I've discovered and tell you I'VE ARRIVED...but, some days I find myself on the Avenue of Acceptance, other days the Road to Recovery, and sadly, a lot of the time I find myself veering off on the Boulevard of Broodiness where I often spend way too much time.

Just a portion of a comment in Philippians 2:13 gives me hope for my missing "want to" and "woo hoo" when it says, "For it is God who works in you to will and to act..." or as my margin notes state, "to want to and to do"! I bear some responsibility in this, as stated in previous verses, but it is GOD who is doing the work, not me!

So...I continue to do the next thing, whatever that may be, trusting that God is helping me suck-it-up and get-over-it by restoring my WANT TO and my WOO HOO! And to that, I say...YIPPEE!

Nostalgic Noel

Not yet quite motivated to deck our halls,
Hubby dear, determined to inspire,
Bearing boxes and bags from their basement bunks
Eagerly anticipating my enthusiasm to acquire.

Outdoor garland and glimmer begged bedecking
When Indian summer came mid-November.
Gratefully foregoing frozen fingers and toes,
A random rarity…one we’ll remember.

Sentimentally sorting through seasonal stuff,
Ill-prepared for this sudden eruption,
Unpacking the reindeer Daddy made long ago,
Found me flooded with tearful emotion.

Twice taken from those who loved him so dearly,
Alzheimer’s ~ a tragic thief ~
September 15th heaven heralded him home
Deep sadness blending bittersweet relief.

Albeit morose, life is meant to be lived,
Though death changes you…one cannot deny,
We go back to work, birthdays, weddings, and such
Regular routine ~ refreshment on which to rely.

Leaving logic in limbo, lucidity lost,
Accompanying Wait, white-water rafting we went
With a group from our church down the lovely New River
“Class 5 rapids” ~ I had no clue what that meant.

Grasping the ropes instead of rowing as directed,
For me, Class 5 meant “Hold on for dear life!”
Poor Waitman, functioning in major “protective mode”,
Broke a rib trying to shield his scared wife.

Intending to inspire (and with remarkable success)
A challenge to our VBS kids Wait gave
Fifteen-hundred dollars given from Monday to Friday,
And his head he’d permit them to shave!

Congregating in Orlando, General Assembly in June,
The Nazarene Family’s quadrennial convention.
Good workshops and services…enjoyed seeing old friends,
But the heat and humidity, a most distressing dimension.


November now waning, Thanksgiving past
December’s “fa-la-la” now set in motion.
Parties and plans, family, fellowship and fun
Perfect pleasure, this Christmas commotion!

Overwhelmingly blessed…our 3 kids and 5 “grands”
Steph & Ashton, Sam, Jaimee and Addy...
Our Texas Five (anticipating a trip there in January)…
Holly, Justin, Zach, Alex, and Maddie.

Enjoying the home our church has provided
In the place where we’ve served for three years
Faithfully following, preaching and teaching ~
Two Buckeyes amidst Mountaineers!

Lingering a little longer in the meaningful memories
Fondly reminiscing till we meet again
Saying farewell to the days of auld lang syne,
Wishing you God’s blessing in 2010.

Daddy's Sunbeam

At 8:57 a.m. Tuesday morning, September 15, 2009, my precious Daddy was transported into the presence of Jesus on a golden ray of sunshine that unnaturally, divinely exploded through a cloudy sky in his direction. Entering the slightly opened curtain, Daddy’s Sunbeam illuminated Glory’s Side for him, while warming the saddened spirits and hurting hearts of his beloved wife, four children, one of his granddaughters, and even his Hospice nurse.

I think God and Daddy were in cahoots on this ordeal and had been bantering back and forth about the final play of the game.

“Come on, Dick, it’s time to come home!”
“I know…I’m ready.”
“Well…let’s do it!”
“Um…..”
“Why the hesitation? You afraid?”
“Oh, no! Not at all! It’s just…you know….Marge.”
“I understand. This will be hard on her. I know. I watched My Son die.”
“So…can’t You do something?!”

God chuckles! At this point, Mom announces to no one in particular, “I need to go to the bathroom.” God and Daddy crack up!

“How appropriate!” Daddy says to God with a wink in his eye and a smirk on his face!
“I know!” God echoes. “I thought you’d get a kick outa that!”

Only momentarily does Daddy hesitate as he mentally glances around the room, realizing at this moment he is going to teach us kids another life lesson or two, while proving once again how much he truly loves our mother.

His focus on us rapidly dims and he knows this is a holy moment. His loud, raspy breaths immediately quiet and we all know it too.

“Hurry, get mom!”
“It’s okay Daddy…it’s time to go! We love you!”
“Should I call for a nurse?”
“Yes…push the button.”
“Mom…HURRY!”

Despite the holiness of the moment, God and Daddy are both still smirking a bit. Then Mom arrives on the scene and God announces…
“Come on, Richard!”
“I’m coming!...What the heck is THAT?!”, Daddy inquires.

God replies, “I’ve sent a sunbeam…your limo waits!”

Amidst the words of love and permission of release, it is announced… “Look at that beam of sunshine coming through this window!”

Daddy looks at God…they both smile as he hops on.
Journey’s End.

Death Changes You

When someone very close to you dies, there are changes that occur over which you have absolutely no control. Even though you long for one more conversation, one more touch, one more look into eyes where love was reciprocated, you must, in your own way, come to terms with the finality of death. It changes you in ways you didn't request. You will NEVER be the same.

But there's something about death that makes me WANT to change...to be different..to be better. My Daddy's death has stirred something within me that makes personal improvement my mandate.

I want to learn to develop thsoe qualities of his that are now so intensified in my mind. His simpleness...his great humor...his deep faith...being comfortable and content with who he was...unpretentious...secure...a "selective listener".

In his later years, Daddy occasionally wore a hearing aid and there were times when we would joke about him either NOT hearing or...pretending NOT TO hear! I like to think that he "heard" it all, but he only selectively "listened" to what was truly important.

People could say things about him either behind his back or to his face, but he didn't allow it to bother him. He KNEW who he was and he knew he WASN'T what they said.

His legacy will live on in his children both intentionally and unintentionally. I am choosing to attempt to implement those admirable qualities he had that I currently lack.

But there is much in me that just comes naturally. I AM my father's daughter. Just yesterday, I walked into my office and inadvertently made that "buzzing lips" sound that we all frequently heard from Daddy at random times throughout the day...and my eyes welled up with tears. I didn't plan to do that...it was unintentional but natural.

Every time I utter one of his many cliches, or inadvertently shiver, or buzz my lips, I will think of my Daddy. I was never the same knowing him ~ I will never be the same losing him.

Five Guys

There is a hamburger joint in Cleveland, Ohio called “Five Guys” where people stand in a long line to purchase the delectable cuisine they serve. We tried to eat there the other day but decided the line was just too long and we were too hungry. We opted for something else.

For fifty five years and one week to the day, I knew a man whose impact upon my life has changed me forever. I actually knew him before I even entered this world. He had a major part in my being here today. He taught me many things…some by words and advice…mostly by demonstration. He was a simple man, never puffed up or phony…always the same no matter who he was around. He was a “Diamond in the Rough”. He never had material wealth because he was born “good lookin’ instead of rich”! He was never famous, but his legacy is immeasurable. He gave new meaning to the word “funny” but his humor was never at the expense of anyone but himself. His work ethic was the norm for those dubbed “The Greatest Generation”. His faith, fervent. His love, deep. His life, too short. We buried him yesterday. He was my Dad.

Forty one years ago I met a guy who was the neighbor of a friend. He was really cute! He would come to some of the teen events at my church occasionally. He went with us to an amusement park one summer and we held hands in the fun house! We dated…we broke up…he went his way…I went mine. Our paths coincidentally crossed again thirty six years ago. I married him. He is still THE one who…loves me unconditionally… makes me laugh...shares my joys and sorrows…teaches me life lessons by his profound example…is wise beyond his years…a deep thinker…analyzer…discerner…generous to a fault…caring father…solid example…my lover…my best friend…my pastor…my husband.

When this great guy and I got together, I “inherited” another guy who has been amazingly influential in my life, rarely by words…always by example. He is a Gentle Giant. A World War II veteran with that “Greatest Generation” work ethic...loyal… quiet…strong…simply educated…incredibly wise…deeply spiritual. My Father-in-Law.

Then there’s this young man in whose life I have extreme personal interest. He never ceases to bring me joy. For 25 years I’ve been so busy influencing him I hardly noticed the role reversal. Oh, he’s probably not even aware of his effect on me. He is a combination of my other three guys. He is good lookin’, funny, solid, deeply spiritual, sensitive, passionate. He is my son.

I saved the best for last because without Him, the other four would be mere men. He is the One who endowed them with their endearing qualities. Early in my life I encountered this Man through my dear parents who made me aware of Him but never forced me into a relationship with Him. At my request, my mother personally introduced me to Him sometime before I was ten years old. He is both rich and good lookin’…His life, also, was too short…He loves deeply…makes me laugh…teaches me…He is strong…simple…sensitive… passionate…He is the essence of deeply spiritual. His name is Jesus.

My Five Guys…Daddy, Waitman, Dad, Sam, and Jesus. Can’t imagine where I’d be without them. My life is abundantly blessed because of them.

That's My Dad

I wrote this 6.10.2008 after visiting my Daddy in the nursing home. I wanted the workers who cared for him to know the real him...before Alzheimer's took over.

You care for a patient in waterproof britches

This 80 year old man who can keep you in stitches
Pushing his walker to help keep him stable

Several times each day from his room to the table ~
That’s my Dad.

I care for this man who worked hard all his life

Providing for us kids and his faithful wife
The 9th of 10 children – a coal miner’s son –

Richard Ray Henry…not just someone…
That’s my Dad.

You see a patient dressed in sweats and a sweater

An Alzheimer’s victim who will not get better,
Struggling with reality – comfortable in the past

Living in his yesterdays that forever last…
That’s my Dad.

I see a man on his knees tiling floors,

With precision and skill, down on all fours,
Who enlisted in the Navy without hesitation

Serving his country – America’s Greatest Generation…
That’s my Dad.

You touch his soft hands, wrinkled and spotted with years,

As you pass him his meds or calm anxious fears.
Helping wash this body that doesn’t remember how

Gently finishing your chore with a soft drying towel…
That’s my Dad.

These hands that were often blistered, calloused and bruised

From the hard work he did and the equipment he used.
Shirtless and sun burnt after mowing all day

Mom “vinegaring” his back to take the sting away…
That’s my Dad.

You hear the same questions asked a dozen times before

“Who are you?” “Where are we?” “What’s this dumb thing for?”
No more conversations – those days are through

Brief answers, repeated questions…it’s the best he can do…
That’s my Dad.

Random ramblings, muffled mutterings…now the order of the day

Eyes closed, thoughts scattered as he passes time away.
Once lucid now distant, sometimes here, sometimes not…

It all makes me wonder why this is his lot…but…
That’s my Dad.

In mellow moments of respite, as well we all should

Sanity surfaces, prayer proceeds, welcome words… “God is good.”
This faith in the Father, many years ago founded

In these twilight years evidences a soul deeply grounded…
That’s my Dad.

Please make no mistake, this family’s anchor holds fast

To the God of creation who forgives repentant pasts.
This Author of life has numbered all of our days

And our faith simply rests in His mysterious ways…

That’s our DAD.