Illness and the Disappearing Act

In October 2021, my Mother was sick and I traveled to my home in Ohio hoping to help out, and when I returned home to NC, my husband Chris was sick. Was it heartburn, indigestion, or maybe the usual flare-up of sinus or allergies causing him to lose weight? He already has these issues, so I thought it couldn't be serious and I was glad he was losing weight due to his threat of obesity. 

I said goodbye to Mother on December 1, 2021, and after her funeral, I returned home and Chris had an endoscopy. The doctor came into the recovery room and asked us to pray for him, I carried anointing oil and applied a bit to the doctor's forehead and the three of us prayed. I felt honored actually believing the godly doctor was asking for intercession for himself. A minute after 'amen,' he showed us the results and a walnut-sized tumor was blocking my husband's esophagus. Chris had cancer.

Now, after two years of very proactive medical help, successful surgery removing all the threats, and constant, caring medical intervention, Chris is still sick, and unable to digest his meals. I'm watching my Dearest disappear in front of me when I wake up, return home from work, see him before bedtime, and try to cuddle against his back. At every encounter, he is thinner. 

Chris wears loose clothing to hide his bones, but I know he is even thinner than the man I married. I thought he was bony then, but nothing compares to what he looks like now. I pray with the image of holding on to the foot of the cross believing God has a purpose for this terrifying reality while praying for healing. I plead the blood of Christ over my own lack of faith. Are we being impatient? Am I hoping to become a widow and free of parish life? Should I plan to survive without Dearest in my life?

There are times I am so very selfish, and sinful that I actually wish he would pass and be free of such misery. His constant pain and nausea keep him confined to limited spaces. He vacuums, cooks, and keeps his office hours at the church parish and averages 9-10 thousand steps on his Fitbit everyday. Chris has always been diligent with his personal responsibilities; he has to because I have to work with no choice. Yet, despite all the highest efforts by medical and our best diet habits, he still cannot gain weight. All we can do is pray believing and pursue the best health habits possible, then the rest belongs to God. Please God heal...please heal my Dearest. Is it wrong that I pray, 'please?'

Thank God for the best of health insurance, health care, a loving family, and a loving church family. Thank God for His mercy and grace in our lives...Thank God for He is with us, guiding us in His Perfect Will as we follow Jesus in His Way...Thank God Our Lord took stripes and our sickness on Himself...Thank God for His perfect salvation from all sin...Thank God for the mind to pray and help us trust and obey Him...Thank God for Our Lord's Triumphant Ressurection...Thank God for His Mercy on my life...

...Oh God, what have I done to hurt my Dearest so? Is my failing the cause of his suffering? Can you really hear my cries for his healing even though I am frail and weak in faith? Have I become so hideous from my many poor choices in life that You cannot see me or hear me? What must I do to see Dearest healed in every wholistic sense and living with me?...What must I DO?

Ok, Faith without works is dead...the just shall live by faith...by faith are we saved through grace and not of works lest any man should boast...

Alright, nothing I haven't heard before...trying to believe. 'AT the Cross...' at the very foot of the cross...the muddy, bloody, smelly, even the awful stench of the vinegar and decaying corpses not far away...I'll stay here and wait and hold on for Dearest's Life.

Thank God that He is the Supreme Ruler of all our unknowns.

I will Trust in God who knows I am dust. 

Sly Pagans: The Everyday People

Call me Pagan. My DNA doesn't lie. I am Celtic, Scandinavian, and Eastern European. The very civilizations that fought against the educated Roman elite government. 

My parents were shocked at the results when there is solid, legal proof of Native American ancestry and my Mother was very animated to remind me that I am from her and my Dad. Now, my inability to tolerate heat, sun, and many food groups seems to make a lot of sense. My body says Northeastern Europe, but the spirit given to me by family traditions and stories about my ancestors has shaped me into who I am today. 

When Mother died, I returned to religious customs and traditions that gave me a great sense of security. I am most comfortable in a buttoned oxford blouse, maxi skirt, and a loose sweater or dress jacket. My constant weight issues make the supportive oxford shoes a necessity.  I've simply neglected to apply jewelry and makeup for tasks more enjoyable. 

I suppose God must be the supreme artist, after all, He is God and I must be His blank canvas. People who wear piercings, tattoos, and individual fashion designs are beautiful. Far more beautiful are the countless cultures people represent; one reason Heaven is such a wonder. Imagine the languages, music, and foods that thrive in Heaven will be the best because Christ Himself is the Creator who gave us such beauty. 

Regardless of our external choices, we are all pagans whom God so loves. 

"Sometimes I'm right and I can be wrong
My own beliefs are in my song
The butcher, the banker, the drummer and then
Makes no difference what group I'm in

I am everyday people, 

There is a blue one who can't accept the green one
For living with a fat one, trying to be a skinny one
And different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee

We got to live together

I am no better and neither are you
We are the same whatever we do
You love me, you hate me, you know me and then
You can't figure out the bag I'm in

I am everyday people,  

There is a long hair that doesn't like the short hair
For being such a rich one, that will not help the poor one
And different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee

We got to live together

There is a yellow one that won't accept the black one
That won't accept the red one, that won't accept the white one
Different strokes for different folks
And so on and so on and scooby dooby doo-bee

I am everyday people" 1

1. "Everyday People." Https://Genius.Com/Sly-and-the-family-stone-everyday-people-lyrics. November 1, 1968. https://doi.org/https://genius.com/Sly-and-the-family-stone-everyday-people-lyrics.