More Later...

I am okay.
The clot in my foot has resolved itself.
I will post something soon.

Peace, Martha

Jesus and "Death"

“Death” has stolen again. Last night I heard that someone who has been a huge encourager to me, and her son, have been separated from her husband suddenly. He made the Transition and they know he is Home, but what about them?

I found myself really upset emotionally for her family and trying really hard to remember what I’ve learned, what God has taught me.

I tried to remember what He taught me about unnatural disasters after the earthquake in Haiti almost a year ago, when I didn’t know if my brother and his wife were “dead” or alive. (Instead of “dead” I should say Alive at Home, as opposed to alive here).

Then I was trying to remember what He showed me only weeks ago about hope in grief.

Then I remembered something I’ve heard my pastor say several times, that this life is an hors d'oeuvre, an appetizer before the real thing; before Life eternal.

But that doesn’t make it unpainful for a loved one to Transition, it doesn’t make the grief just vanish, it doesn’t make all of the stuff surrounding a transition just not need to be done, and it doesn’t make continuing without the person not an excruciating adjustment.

This morning I saw this:



I have heard the hallelujah chorus hundreds of times; it is one of my favorite pieces of music. But today when I saw this, and heard the lyrics, what breathed hope into me was the reminder that the words of the song are true: Jesus already kicked death’s ass, and death’s days are numbered. When He comes back, He will annihilate death forever, forever and ever. There will be no more pain, no more tears, no more separation.

When I listened to this song this morning, it struck me as a triumphant battle song, a proclamation of hope and life, a reminder that He already reigns forever and ever, He will continue to reign forever and ever, and nothing in this life can overcome Him. He is more powerful than death.

Death seems so overwhelmingly powerful that, for me at least, it’s hard to remember the hope we can have.

We grieve, but we don’t grieve without hope.

Hallelujah Chorus, From Handel's Messiah.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
The kingdom of this world
Is become the kingdom of our Lord,
And of His Christ, and of His Christ;
And He shall reign for ever and ever,
For ever and ever, forever and ever,
King of kings, and Lord of lords,
King of kings, and Lord of lords,
And Lord of lords,
And He shall reign,
And He shall reign forever and ever,
King of kings, forever and ever,
And Lord of lords,
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
And He shall reign forever and ever,
King of kings! and Lord of lords!
And He shall reign forever and ever,
King of kings! and Lord of lords!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!

General Update with Specifics

-- Three nurses have examined my foot and all three think it’s a clot. Obviously no one knows what it will do; it may do nothing, or it may be my ticket Home. Yes, I am hoping it’s my ticket Home because going by the ways a blood clot would be most likely to take me would be WAY easier than the most likely cancer options. I’m trusting that God has everything under control and that His timing and means will be perfect.

--I had an excellent first visit with my hospice chaplain last week. I was intrigued by the vocabulary she used and by her insight on all things nearing “death” and spiritual. She refers to “death” as transitioning, she refers to saying a prayer as voicing a prayer (and there is a big difference between the two), she talks about “nearing death” spiritual experiences....

--My mailbox and I are expecting a book today that I’m pretty excited about. I’ll post more on it after I get into it a bit.

--I’m taking a time out for a few days by myself to paint and read and sleep.

--It turns out that about 90% of my recent irritation was caused by increasing my sugar uptake without realizing it. After I eliminated most sugar from my diet I felt very dramatically better within the first day (which was a week and a half ago), and I’ve been feeling better and better since. I know part of it was just me processing what I’m experiencing but a staggering amount of it was the sugar. If you get to the point of scaring yourself and everyone around you, your sugar intake is worth examining.

--A large segment of my enormous family is gathering next week. Please pray for grace and Love for all of the families and un-family-ed gathering next week all over this country and elsewhere and for those who don’t have families or places to gather...

--A lot has been going on in Haiti. If you want on site information and incredible photographs, you should check http://www.blexi.blogspot.com/ My younger brother and his wife have been living in Haiti for over two years and they have a lot of insight on the situation that I have been finding very helpful.

Peace, Martha

Oh, and here is a song I've been encouraged by, lyrics are below the video....



Are we left here on our own?
Can you feel when your last breath is gone?
Night is weighing heavy now
Be quiet and wait for a voice that will say

Come awake
From sleep, arise
You were dead
You’ve come alive
Wake up wake up
Open your eyes
Climb from your grave
Into the light
Bring us back to life

You are not the only one
Who feels like the only one
Night soon will be lifted friend
Just be quiet and wait for the voice that will say

Come awake
From sleep, arise
You were dead
You’ve come alive
Wake up wake up
Open your eyes
Climb from your grave
Into the light
Bring us back to life

Rise, rise, rise, rise, rise

Rise, rise, rise, rise….
Shine, shine, Oh shine
We will shine
We will rise
We will shine, shine, shine

Violette : )

My brother C (Violette’s dad), Martha Elisabeth, and Violette Elisabeth

Violette was about five days young in these pictures, and teeny tiny, but with the hugest yawns you’ve ever seen from a mouth so small. It was an honor to see her and her amazing parents. All three of them are doing well. It was a very special twenty-four hours.

Tulips

A friend of mine gave me these spectacular tulips last night... I keep looking at them and thinking about how all creation worships Him, so I thought I’d share them. I was going to try to narrow it down to two pictures but couldn’t, so you get four.

You can click on the images to see them bigger.

My Foot

This wasn’t much of a break, but that’s okay.

I have a blood clot/phlebitis/issue in my right foot. It’s been hurting since last Wednesday, it got worse a few days ago, and yesterday it hurt a lot more and the symptoms were distinct enough to indicate something abnormal.

It is pretty painful. It’s a throbbing aching pain which is worse if I move around fast, put weight on it, take a warm/hottish shower, or elevate it... Thank God for ibuprofen.

I looked up info on blood clots and read all kinds of stuff, took it all with a grain of salt, but hoped I would go to sleep last night and wake up at Home... I’m still here.

Anyway, a nice hospice nurse came out this morning. She checked it all out and then spoke with my supervising nurse practitioner who has put me on an antibiotic in case it’s an infection and on aspirin to thin my blood. It should improve within 48 hours, if not, I’ll probably get stronger blood thinners.

Apparently blood clots are common in cancer patients. The nice nurse told me why but I’m not going to try to paraphrase what she said because I don’t want to misrepresent her.

It was interesting when she asked me how aggressive I wanted to be with treatment. She explained that some people want to be very aggressive because they’re afraid, if it’s a clot, that it will come loose and go to their brain, lungs, or heart and kill them. I told her, A. I was hoping that would happen last night because I’m way past ready to go Home and, B. I have two goals for treatment: 1. I want relief from the pain. 2. I don’t want my toes or foot rotting off from gangrene, that “death” is welcome but that being incapacitated is not. She didn’t bat an eyelash.

Meanwhile, Dresden has been very needy and anxious for the last several days. This is what she did this morning with the five empty six packs from the pansies and violas that I just planted yesterday...

Inspecting her handiwork...

Peace, Martha

Break

I’m going to take a break.

I’ll be back.

Peace, Martha

Untitleable 2

Okay, I’ve already been told that my last post was frustrating and disturbing.

What can I say? I wrote this last October, a whole YEAR ago, and it still holds true:

“Most of my family and friends know my thinking about this.... the bottom line is that it's my body and I'm the one in it dealing with all of this. And as I said, they are going to have to release me, and I them, at some point anyway.”

Same thing, another whole year later: They will never have had enough time with me, they will have to release me sometime, we’ve all known the cancer was terminal for as long as we’ve been willing to acknowledge it, and I’m the one living in this (curse word) body.

I understand their point; that it’s hard and painful and disturbing, and I’m not unsympathetic. It’s just that it has been hard and painful all along. And, living in a 33 year old body that feels like it’s 65, knowing I’m terminally ill, and knowing that I can’t do a lot of the things I’d like to do while I’m waiting to die because of my energy limitations makes me want to be done.

I hope that I can maintain a sense of humor for the time I have left, even if it is dark humor, and I hope my time of suffering will be over as soon as possible.

I’m doing the best I can to be with people and to use my time well, but that’s the best I can do. I can’t change my limitations or their limitations.

It is what it is. I’m sorry and I wish it were easier for everyone but I can’t make it easier. I have been trying to make it as much easier as I can, but there's only so much I can do. I’m not God.

Untitleable

Spite cancer: Drink tea, eat dark chocolate, make beautiful things, and be with the people you love.

That was my first thought, my second thought is about something I’ve been stressed out about at some level for a while. It’s this: I don’t want to have another last Christmas. I did that last year. My family did that last year. I DON’T want to do that again. I can’t describe how I feel about that thought, so I’m not going to try.

I’m good to go for Thanksgiving though, and looking forward to it. Plus, right now I’m looking forward to meeting my little niece Violette when she arrives (She was due November 3, please pray she comes ASAP).

So if you could pray that Jesus would come for me between November 26, and, oh, maybe December 10, it would be great. That would leave plenty of leeway for my memorial service and the after death logistics to get wrapped up (ha ha, get it?) before Christmas.

Peace, Martha

Disclaimer

***Edited 11.7.10***
Disclaimer—there are a lot of things I can’t or don’t post on here. I don’t/can’t post them because they are too disturbing/intense, or would include language which some people would find offensive.

Because these things aren’t being posted, you’re only getting a partial story, for better or for worse.

It strikes me as what I have to do, but as for worse for two reasons: First, you’re not getting the whole story. Second, because of the omissions, some people have a skewed view of me—that I’m a pillar of strength, a bright and shining example, that sort of thing, and it’s inaccurate and unrealistic.

Anything good coming out of my terminal cancer is because of the transforming work of Jesus—there would be no good in it otherwise, not for me.

So for clarification: Know that you’re getting a partial story and please remember where the good stuff originates.

Peace, Martha