Road Trips That I Have Not Yet Taken

I have gone on many road trips in my life. Like way too many to count. Funny how the ones that stick out, the ones I remember and like to retell always have some obstacle to overcome or some harrowing detail. Like the time our van died in the middle of the river...or sleeping in the suburban on a sub-freezing night, just because. But don't let me get started because I have a Veritable Array of good stories. And this post is about what is to come. The great unknown, as it were. And the really profound thing about cancer is that you begin to realize that you cannot count on every day being a good day for a road trip. (which is true for everyone, but I never believed it until now. Weird.)

Tomorrow Jay and I are going to drive past Pueblo, Colorado to see a piece of property that belongs to my dad. Well, that is the reason we are going to that particular latitude/longitude. But really we just want to get in the car and drive. May this be the first trip of many.

bridge crossing

There are several stories about trolls and bridges and crossing them, aren't there. It would seem that the Grimm Brothers and other authors had scary memories of a pretty ordinary event. I am beginning to understand that crossing a bridge isn't always an action that allows you to see the river from a different view.

I was given some good advise the other day: "wait to cross a bridge until you get to it". Certainly because you may not have to cross it at all. And/or because it will look different close up than from a distant view. I find that taking this advise has been a bracing help for my vivid imagination bouts in the middle of the night. I find it possible and also wise to just skip any conjecture on what a certain procedure will be like. Cancer treatment gives you many opportunities to try new things. And there is inevitably a pause between the doctor's order and the actual test. Plenty of time, in fact, to imagine wild and crazy scenarios. I can guess and wonder with the best of imaginations. What may actually be required to endure has been easier than I thought, or scads harder. Or cancelled altogether.

What ought to be done, then, in the waiting for one's arrival at the bridge? Do what you love. Be with good friends who know how to laugh and sing and speak of a Kind King. And that is why Melissa and Ben and Amy are here right now, working on an impossibly huge jigsaw puzzle with us.

May I recommend a good read?

Letters from the Land of Cancer has been good for me. Its as if an older friend put his arm on my shoulder and pointed me the way to go. Because one of the weights of cancer is the second guessing that goes on in the middle of the night wakefulness. And Wangerin speaks to that! He opens up his thoughts and wrestlings over the disease and its inroads into his quality of life. Such a kind savior is revealed in those pages! He makes much of God!

I feel too squeamish to be as candid as he is. Because my words aren't as used as skillfully as his, it would seem like a long parade of words that whine and flinch. Don't like the feel of that. But I will say that Tuesday's needle biopsy is giving me the willies.

The Interpreter

Dale earns his living by becoming a bridge of words between the jailed and the jailor. Between the prosecuted and the prosecutor. Imagine the fearful anxiety you would feel if you were unable to know what the law was deciding about your guilt and future punishment. I can sense the relief that a prisoner would feel as soon as Dale walks in with his idiomatic and clearly accurate spanish. And his kind gaze. And his respectful interaction. No racism exists in him (how can my latin husband feel contempt for one of his own?).

Dale also has become a faithful bridge of words between his friends and a glorious Savior. Full of affection and hope, Dale speaks of God with a heart that loves Him.

Nora Beth Marie Davy

She is here! Nora was born February 9 at 5:53am. She is so rosy and plump and long-limbed. Her hair is dark and wavy. When she opens her eyes, they just may be sapphire blue. Just enchanting. Watching Addie study her and marvel at her and steal her pacifier is joyful. As in smile wide happy.

The name Nora means 'light'. Beth is the name of her beloved Great Grandmother, Beth Davy. Marie is the name of her precious Great Grandmother, Joan Marie Taylor. You can't beat that as a heritage.

Being a grandma (or Noni) to more than one child is going to be one cool undertaking.

some thoughts

God is determined to make His name great in my life. He is allowed to use anything He chooses to do that. Right now He is using cancer.

I am just where His providence has, in its inscrutable but all-wise and righteous decision, placed me. It may be a position painful, irksome, trying, but it is right. Oh, yes! it is right."



The older I get the more this old body falls apart. The more I am battered and buffeted on the outside, the more I realize 'they' can't really touch the deeper inside of my relationship with Christ. We really are spirit beings who are temporarily clothed in flesh and bones, but these temporary 'clothes' aren't who we are.

I want to make much of God. I was afraid that this regression would make Him look bad, or that my life was a bad sell job on what a grace-filled life looks like. Ha! His glory shines best in the dark places.

What I now have before me is the opportunity to grab my Savior's hand and say, 'I believe'. Because with 'every breath I breathe, He is saving me'.

waiting

I heard it said that waiting is an inactive as a water molecule is devoid of microbes. Meaning that waiting is active. I also heard it said that casting your care on the Lord is not a gentle toss with a bungie cord attached to the care so that it comes back to you. Its an aimed hurl...think of a baseball pitcher. That care is far gone if ridded of properly.

So I am actively waiting, and hurling my cares with deliberate aim at the One Who Knows my end from these middle places.