A Wicked Woman Finds Comfort

My husband's heart seems to be holding its own after last week's life-threatening reaction to his first round of chemotherapy. So we're pretty much back to our routine of puttering around the house and enjoying each other's company.

But there is no rest for this wicked woman. All hell has broken loose in every other area of our family's life. Our college freshman son finally confessed his sorry grades from last semester. He is back in school as of last week, majoring in Social Life. And after paying a zillion dollars in end-of year expenses last month (property taxes, car tags, homeowner's association fees, car repairs, eyeglasses for husband and son, and more), I just got hit with several more unexpected bills (additional car repairs, new tires, hospital co-pays, and more). The dishwasher is broken and our refrigerator gasps more fervently each day. 

My husband-who-happens-to-have-cancer-and-now-also-heart-problems is on a low sodium diet. Thus, neither one of us has tasted salt for several days. Understand that we are both salt addicts. It's like heroin to us, so imagine our irritability as we withdraw. Not to mention my frustration over the fact that my skinny husband needs to gain weight, but he can no longer eat his favorite comfort foods. And, because all hell done broke loose on the Locklin family, he now has chemotherapy-induced mouth sores that make it difficult to chew. So my rail-thin husband gets to sip applesauce and yogurt through a straw for sustenance. 

My mother-in-law recently sent us a cheery greeting card and a hand-written message that took my breath away. This from a woman whose son has Stage IV incurable cancer and whose daughter was recently diagnosed with a tumor on her pancreas that, though benign, warrants chemotherapy for safe measure. And my in-law's beloved Jack Russell, Daisy, died while they were visiting their son in the hospital last week. 

My in-laws, married for about 60 years, are the most resilient people I know. They are the rocks against which I brace myself when the waves crash and pummel my family. 

And right now the waves refuse to cease. Before we can catch our breath, the next one arrives and pounds us, relentlessly and unmercifully. Most days I can fight them, but today felt like the day the surf would finally swallow me whole. Like plankton gathered by a whale making its way through the vast ocean. Sucked in completely and without forethought. 

Then I stumbled upon my mother-in-law's greeting card. Her hand-written message spoke of using her son's situation to bring honor and glory to God. She assured us that, whatever comes, we can have a song in our hearts because God did not promise to keep us from trouble, but He did promise to be with us every step of the way. 

I understand and believe God's promise to be with us throughout this journey and to give us the strength we need during difficult times. What struck me was the notion that we must work hard to share with others our first-hand knowledge that God has provided, and will continue to provide, comfort and strength even as the waves pound. That message must become the song in our hearts - a song that brings Him honor and glory. 

  

My Christian friends will quickly understand this perspective. But I hope that my non-Christian friends recognize in my mother-in-law's message a call to always remember that the world is bigger than our individual struggles. And that singing to the world our songs of love and acceptance is our most precious gift to others.   

I was in the hospital room when my husband's blood pressure plummeted to a level that could not be detected by two doctors and two nurses simultaneously working on him. I felt and saw his skin - as cold as an iced tea glass and as pale as newsprint. I saw the baffled look in the doctors' faces as my beloved was rushed to the Intensive Care Unit. In the end, the medical personnel were great, but it was the power of prayer that saved my Lewis. Maybe it would help you to hear it this way: Prayer guided some very perplexed physicians toward a series of decisions that resolved Lewis' complex and deteriorating cardiac problems.

The waves crash, but I'm belting out a song from my heart. It is a song of hope and love. I sing it not only for my family, but for yours, as a gift of reminder. Remember to hold your loved ones tight, let them know what they mean to you, and tell them that they are not alone in this world.