This is what love looks like

The past 16 months have been some of the most challenging my family has ever experienced.  At times I have allowed myself to wallow in how bad and hard it all has been.  But mostly I have tried to find the good, find God in any situation, find joy.  That's how I choose to live.  

But December 31st challenged that in a bit way.  My dad had a massive stroke.  He had to be taken, via flight for life, to a hospital an hour away from his home and mine. As he began to recover we began to realize the miraculous nature of the situation, and he went from really not well at all to going home in just under 5 weeks.  Then, 4 days after arriving home the doctors found a "deadly" infection and he spend another 5 days in the hospital.  All his work during rehab seemed lost.  Again, he is home and beginning to gain strength and ability again.  I have every reason to be grateful, and I am.  I am also tired and worried.  

This weekend I went down to see mom and dad and try to help somehow.  

This weekend we had to acknowledge that we, as a family, need help.  Trying to manage things wasn't really getting us anywhere.  And we all felt like we had already relied on the kindness and generosity of others entirely too much.  So, deep breath in, deep breath out and ask for help.  Accept offered help.  And stand humbled and blessed receiving help. 

And as I tried to express my gratitude to those who helped us, I realized that sometimes love looks like candy and roses.  But more often love looks different.  Love looks like shiny stainless steel grab bars in a bathroom, installed with love and care so that dad is safe as he showers.  Love looks like a king sized bed, moved from a basement in Pueblo to a bedroom in Englewood, to provide space for mom to realize a long time dream of a "she shed" situation.  Love looks like a cup of coffee and an wonderful dinner, spent with family, just checking in and laughing.  Love looks like clean laundry and clean baseboards (one of my mom's love languages!) Love looks like providing time and space for mom and my niece and nephew to play games together and laugh together.  Love looks like a clean swept driveway and walkway after a nasty ice and snow storm.  Love looks like green chili enchilada's delivered by a neighbor.  I could go on and on.

But the point is, this; so many times in the last 6 weeks I have felt sad or scared or alone. but time and time again I am reminded that even though Pat isn't here, I am not alone.  Mom and dad have received more care and love than we could ever imagine or hope for.  

Love looks like so many different things, and I have witnessed such great love.  I am choosing to look at that beauty and put the sadness aside.  It will come again some day I'm sure, but I have these amazing reminders of love to look back on and remember that I am not alone.

What pictures of love have you seen lately? 

Think on that/

Grief

This was written in early March, 2023.  I wrote it and forgot about it.  

I cam back here today to write.  I would say almost the same thing today.  So, I'm publishing this today and will write more in a few days.

Grief.  It's ugly.

 Grief.  I've read tons of  beautiful quotes on grief over the years. Sometimes in my life they hit home. Other times they have helped me feel empathy for loved ones experiencing grief.  in the last 6 months I think I understand them all more deeply. 

My brother died 6 months ago.  It was a Tuesday.  The ground came out from under my feet that day.  I've been trying, fighting, hoping to find my footing ever since.  It was completely unexpected and still feels unreal.  

This past Saturday was his birthday.  He would have been 55.  He was beautiful and talented and big and strong.  He was my brother, my friend a really decent human.  He was flawed, as all humans are flawed.  But he was mine, ours, and I loved him always.  Until October 26 I had never lived a day on this earth without him.  The world is different without him.  Hollow.  I had a thought on Saturday, it makes no sense whatsoever.  But does grief make sense?  I don't think so... It occurred to me that 3 years I will all of the sudden be older than my big brother.  I wont have an older brother anymore.  

His death changes everything.  And yet we are all trying to live life like we did the seconds before he left this earth.  I don't know how to do this.  I don't want to know how to do this.  

I am awake at 1am, crying and agonizing, so I decided to write.  I don't even know if I will ever publish this.  I just needed to get this out.  

Pat

I miss you

It should be me

You should still be here

momma and daddy are devastated

Anna and Eli think of you every minute

Katy is brave and strong and lost without you

I think you took my music with you the day you died.  

I cant sing.  I forgot all the words to all the songs my heart used to know.

I love you

Rest easy

I will love you always.

My heart wont ever really heal.

J

“Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.”

~C.S. Lewis

Time to Celebrate?

 last year I was in the infusion center waiting for my injection.  I happen to enjoy these times even though they are heavy with emotion and memory.  My chemo nurses are amazing humans and I get to catch up with them on the days I need injections.  New babies, marriages, babies are now talking and going to preschool...life has moved on and I get to hear all about it.  Think of that.  I met these ladies because I was facing death.  And now I get to hear about the way life is progressing for them and their loved ones.  This particular day though, my nurse was checking my date of birth for the 3rd time (if you've been there, you know!) before administering the meds.  She smiled brightly and said, "hey!  You will be 50 in just a few days!" I don't usually make a huge deal of my birthday so I began the obligatory noise about oh, yeah, no big deal, blah blah blah.  She stopped me short!  She said, "not here, you don't say that here!  Here EVERY year is a gift."  Boy, was she right! 

This isnt about candles on cake or focusing on a number (51 today) but it IS about the fact that I have been on this planet for one more year.  I have smiled, laughed, learned, cried, loved and lived for another 365 days longer than we thought I would.  So yes, today we celebrate.  I look back on the year and this is what I see: 

• COVID     wow!
• working after cancer and during covid.  This still provides such joy for me!  
• leaning into old friendships, intentionally deepening those roots.  I am learning what it truly means to nourish relationships. 
• even though it has not been enough, I have had precious moments with my niece and nephew this year.  I adore them, being an auntie is such a gift!  
• watching my adult children fly.  They are heartbreakingly beautiful and I am amazed that I get to be here to see them learn and grow.  And I get to hug them often.  
• Truly learning how to grow my marriage.  No marriage is perfect, but mine has gotten so much better over the last two years.  I cannot imagine how life without this man would be.  
• God blessed me with a new puppy.  I never thought I wanted a puppy, but this boy has been a fun addition to our home. We love you IKO!
• restoring lost relationships.  This is huge!  Forgive always, be open to conversations.  Restoration is such a blessing!
• meeting this tiny human, Oliver Lane.  He made me a grandma a few months back and I cant stop looking at him, talking to him and loving him! Oh my, he is IT! 

So, yes, even if 51 doesn't seem like such a big deal in itself, the fact that I am here living and breathing on the planted for this 51st year is something to celebrate!  HOORAY!   I am here!  Hooray!  Life is a gift, lets never forget to celebrate the days and years!

My birthday falls on a day that causes many folks to look at their life, reflecting on things and looking toward the future.  I would love to hear from you about what you are celebrating this day!  I would love to celebrate with you!

"I will not let cancer make me feel ashamed"

 I rememer the shame.  It was thick, heavy, dark.  I wanted to hide.  We had taken so many hits in the first few weeks of my diagnosis. They day they upgraded my diagnosi to stage IV metasatic.  It was still "treatable" and we were moving forward with the exact same treatment plan as the week before.  That didnt matter to me that day.  I apologized to Mark several times on the drive home.  I didnt even know what I was aplolgizing for....I just knew in my core that I MUST apologize.  Until he finally said, "STOP APOLOGIZING".  So I did.  But the shame lingered for a few weeks.

I had to really press in and get close to Jesus.  I had to rage and cry.  I had to sleep and stare at the wall, waiting desperately for a word of hope.  Finally peace came.  I was able to look my children, my husband, my parents in the eye without shrinking back or looking away.  That is when I was fully ready to get going on things. Until I could lay aside the shame I was not ready to fight.  Until I stuffed the shame in the garbage can I was shrinking in fear.  I am so thankful that I was able to move through it. 

Today, almost 2 years out from diagnosis, I recieved a podcast notifiation with the title I used for this blog.  I will not let cancer make me feel ashamed.  What a good reminder.  I'm thankful to be walking days and weeks and months away from this diagnosis.  But I am also thankful to be reminded of the beautiful lessons I have learned along the way.  

Today I was reminded that I do not need to carry shame for any reason.  Today I am reminded that this life I am living is a gift!  A GIFT. Medicine says I should not be in remission right now.  But I am walking in healing.  Today is a good day to take stock of things for which I am thankful.  Will you join me in making this list?

I am thankful for:

• Life in my body
• No migraine headaches any more
• my beautiful grandson
• my beautiful children ( Caleb, Bekah and now Emily)
  
• my parter in all things, Welby
• this home I am sitting in
• my parents are alive and well after a nasty bout of COVID
• my brother and sister in love
• my niece and nephew
• sweet Iko boy
• the work I do
• music in my heart
• this beautiful fall we have had 

I could go on and on.....

Life is hard right now.  I think everyone is feeling pulled and stretched to uncomfortable limits. I am tired right along with the rest of you.  This little moment has been helpful for me to refocus my gaze on what is good.  I'm not pretending all the hard bits are gone, I am simply acknowledging the many good bits that are right here in my reach.

In the podcast I listened to this morning this is what encouraged me to look at these things:

Phillipians 1:19-20 

9 for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.[a] 20 I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

If you have prayed for me of with me while on this journey, thank you!  It is because of you that I am here today.

Make your gratititude list!  Do it now!  Life is challenging, but you can focus on the good things as well.

Blessings.

Jade

almost 1 year later....

 Well, this year has just been crazy! 

- Finishing up Chemo

- Bekah graduated

- Bilateral mastectomy

- Started back to work - in person - during COVID 19 pandemic

- Bekah started college

- Reconstruction surgery

- Back to work- in person again - after a 6 week closure

And that just gets us to December.

I have been frustrated with myself this year for feeling tired, for getting sick at times due to meds, for being weak.  So many people have told me to be gentle with myself.  I felt frustrated by that too.  And as I look at this list tears fall down my face.  WOW....This body has been through it!  And here I stand.  Weak, tired, healed but not yet fully well, working to figure out this new body I reside in.  And sometimes it just isn't pretty.  BUT, I'm standing!  

And Oh my!  I have laughed.  I get to go to work with some wonderful adults and even more wonderful children!  What a privilege it is it do the work I do.  My job is, for the most part, a place and space of joy and wonder.  I am so thankful everyday that I get to go there.  It makes it easier to get out of bed when I am sick or weak or tired. 

When I was going through treatment I remember seeing a flyer in the oncology office. It said something to the effect of, "done with treatment?  Now what?  come to this support group for more information"  that's the general sentiment anyway.  And I wondered why in the world anyone would need support in knowing what to do next.  You go live your life.....right?  Well, yes.  But not really.  Here is the 100% truth.  A year ago I was fighting stage IV (that's 4 if you don't know your roman numerals) breast cancer.  Today I am cancer free.  Today I also have to go to Physical therapy to learn to use this body I have.  Today I have to see my oncologist (whom I adore) once a month.  Today I have to take meds.  Meds that make me sick and hurt.  Meds that suppress my immune system  Today I have to have "routine" PET scans every 3 or 4 months.   Now I'm wondering if I can find that flyer somewhere!  Goodness, it's a lot to process.  And the "routine" PET scans incite a terror in me I cannot even begin to describe.  (Any survivors out there who can relate? I would love to hear from you on how you cope with this) It is completely out of my control and it is very real!  So, when my oncologist says it's time again I start the cycle again.   I have tools, and I use them.  But OH MAN!  This is work folks!  No two ways about it, staying sane and in my body for the week leading up to a PET scan is a full time job!  If you pray, I would appreciate your prayers!  If you worship, sing for me!  I deeply appreciate it.  Next "routine" PET scan on May 10.

I keep putting quotation marks around routine because these tests are anything but that!  They check you in and put you in a room that has a biohazard sign on the door with a warning.  You are invited to sit in a comfy recliner in said room. You know, the one with the warning on the door.  Then, a nurse in full hazmat gear comes in and asks if you are comfy.  Then, if you are comfy, shoots you up with radioactive dye.  I'm not joking, it comes in a stainless steel syringe in a small carrying case with foam in it.  And then they invite you to sit back, relax and take a nap while the dye pulses through your veins. Then the fun really begins as they invite you into the scan room where you get to lay down with your arms over your head (which is tricky when you've had a mastectomy) in a tube not much larger than an MRI tube.  Oh the joy!  Then, after 20 to 30 minutes, you get to get out of the tube and they tell you that you can go about your normal life....except for coming in contact with pregnant women or newborn babies.  That inspires confidence!  Generally I spend the next 4 to 5 hours throwing up....so, yeah, normal life!  (: Truly, I would love some prayer around this.  I'm not the bravest soul when it comes time for this.

And as I write this I am listening to a new album, Old Church Basement.  One song in particular

wait on you - Elevation Worship with Maverick City Music

and as I write about my very real fears I listen to these very real truths and find peace once again.   "That's what happens when you wait!"

My dear friends, this wild ride has been so challenging and so rewarding and is ongoing.  I did not realize it would be.  I figured I would end this blog because I was done.  But I'm not done yet.  And this is a really helpful outlet.  So, thanks for sticking with me on this journey!

Until next time!

Day 365

 Yep, you read that right.  365 days.  One year ago today an ER Doc told me I had breast cancer and sent me home with instructions to see a doctor soon.....So I did.  And the rest is history.  And present.  And future.  Because, what I have learned this year will forever change who I am.  My body is forever changed.  My mind is forever changed.  My heart is forever changed.  My faith has been forged in fire.  It has been pounded, reheated, reshaped, sharpened and honed into something I only thought I could understand.  I am new.  Changed, I think, for the better. Yep, 2020, stage 4 breast cancer and a pandemic have changed me for the better.

First, an update!  I had successful reconstruction surgery Friday, November 20th!  My plastic surgeon assured me that this would be easy compared to all I have been through this year.  She was right!  I slept all day Friday and all night.  I woke up Saturday feeling very well.  I have had little to no pain through it all.  I am so thankful for that!  It feels great to have the skin expanders out and the implants in.  Whew!  It is a relief to have that behind me!

Today has been an emotional day.  I woke up grateful.  I have spent the day reflecting, remembering, rejoicing and grieving.  (I said I was changed, I never said I wasn't still crazy as all get out!)  Thank you to all who have continued to read this blog and suupport me with prayer and words of encouragement. 

While I am not yet ready to say I am thankful for breast cancer, I am ready to say that I am thankful for the lessons learned walking through it.  Here are a few of the lessons Mark and I have reflected on today:

• My marriage of 27 years is better than it has been in years, thanks in large part to this diagnosis.  Mark is half my heart and I have come to treasure him in ways I did not before.  He really is the very best human!
• This diagnosis crystalized my place in "the church" or in ministry.  I had to lay it all down, and in laying it down I have been able to see that much of what I was attempting to carry was not rightfully mine to carry.  
• This walk, literally through the valley of the shadow of death, has shown me the the truth in my faith, and the holes in my faith.  I get to keep working on that!
• I have come to understand in a very deep way what friendship truly is and is not.  I hope it has made me a better friend, I know it has caused me to value those I call friend.
• worship is still how I navigate the world. (both natural and supernatural...yep, I said it! supernatural) It is just different now.  Sometimes different is hard.
• Because of COVID and the fact that my immune system is (and will always be) shot, church looks different.  I have not set foot in a church service in almost a year....that is super hard, and as pastors that is not something we ever would have considered. We "wandered" and wondered for months what we were going to do, church isnt perfect, but we both love it and are devoted to Jesus and his church.  Even if different is hard, it can be good.We still don't have answers, but feel at peace and have found a place holder to keep us going!
  
• Somehow through all of this I have been transformed.  I know it, and yet I can't really tell a difference.  Does that make ANY sense at all??  It is a very strange sensation to know in your bones you are transformed and also not really be able to pinpoint WHAT it is that has changed.   But I am transformed.  And I pray that it is for the better.  It feels very peaceful inside of me, so I take that as a good sign.
• If you are mine, I will love you harder than ever before.  So buckle up! (:
• I will no longer waste time in transactional relationships trying to make them deep. I am a human not a commodity. ( I Know some of you know exactly what I am saying!)
• Every day is to be celebrated!  EVERY DAY
• If you look for bad, you will find it.  Lots of it.  Conversely, if you look for good, you will find it!  
• I have chosen to look for good 
• Cancer has left my body, but I will always carry the marks it left.

I took some time today in my living room to just sing and praise and worship and cry.  I have honestly not cried much through this.  Today I let some tears fall.  Tears are healing.  

As I looked back over this entire blog I found that the songs I posted through the last year have truly been my anthem(s).  I have done two studies on the idea of unshsakeable faith this year, that has been an incredible thing to lean in to as I walked out this journey.  Unshakeable.  That is my new goal.  

Because I was given a stage 4 diagnosis I see my oncologist every 4 weeks.  I have blood drawn every 2 weeks, I take two hormone blockers and an oral Chemotherapy drug and I get one horomone blocker injection each month.  So there are constant reminders of the war I waged last year.  I am still learning how to fully live after this.  But that is a wonderful lesson to learn and one that I rejoice in! 

The same as the rest of the world, I will be so glad to see this dingdang pandemic end.  I want to hug my son.  I want my family.  I know I'm not alone.  I just have to be careful because of my immune system and so we are just being so so careful.   I am blessed to be allowed to work.  But because I work I do nothing else.  No grocery store (I know it sounds like a dream, but after awhile, you would be surprised at what you miss!) no farmers markets, nothing.  I'm not whining....or I'm not meaning to!  I'm just telling the truth.  I am well, I am alive, I am forever grateful.  

And.....I have my first post chemo/surgery PET scan in a month.....

I'll keep you posted.

As we all grow weary of this pandemic, I would encourage you to choose to look for good.  It is so easy to find only bad.  Please keep looking!  And when you find good, shout it out!  (:

I am digging in to Advent this month, trying to focus on the real reason I celebrate Christmas.  Because why I celebrate Christmas is how I got through this whole year! So, join me on facebook for the advent study if you choose.  It's likely imperfect, but it is honest and real and hopefully will point you to the good you maybe can't find.

It wouldnt be a blog of mine without music.

Even when it hurts - Hillsong

Take Courage - Kristene DiMarco

Goodness of God - Jenn Johnson

Defender - Jesus Culture

Do It Again - Elevation Worship

It Is Well - Kristene DiMarco

Many many blessings

It Is Well

J

I just can't believe my life!

 It's been a long time.  I've thought a lot about this blog spot and what I could or should say next.  I said a copule of posts back, I am cancer free.  I am!  Walking out this journey, I worked to stay positive.  I just knew I would get to this point.  And now that I am here I am still processing those words, cancer free.  Complete response to treatment.  Clear margins.  No need for radiation at this time.  My life has been handed back to me and it is incredible!  It is also overwhelming.  I burst into tears of gratitude at the strangest times.  In some ways I have no idea how to take this gift and make the most of it.  I am not sure how to process the magnitude of the gift I have been given.  Whew!  Gratitude.  

I have been able to go back to work and it is amazing!  I've been back for a month and students just returned Wednesday.  I have decided that to do my best to pour into the beautiful lives of these precious babies is one way I can make the most of the gift of life I have been given.  So I show up and enjoy each day!  Also, I'm worn out!  Wow!  My body was pretty broken down after chemo.  I did not realize how weak I was.  I have spent the last several weeks slowly working to build up my stamina again and the move into a place of strength again.  I'm getting there!  But dude...I'm tired at the end of the day!  

The final phase of this journey is my reconstruction surgery.  I do not yet have a date, but we are getting closer.  Skin expanders are full and in place, I know now from my oncologist what is required and I just need to make the appointment with my plastic surgeon.  It will be sometime this year.  We have met our deductible with our insurance and are bound and determined to just get all of this done in the same calendar year!  (: I'll keep you posted.  ( I know you're all waiting on pins and needles for these updates!)

Doing all of this in the midst of COVID is also very odd.  I am on three medications that compromises my immune system.  It's not qute how it was during chemo, but it is suppressed.  And while my doctors all encourage me to work and live my life they also encourage me to be careful.  So, Mark and I have made the decision to go to work and then mostly quarantine at home.  Outside of work we Zoom with friends and family.  We have not been to church in months and won't be able to go for at least a few more.  In Colorado churches are open and our home church has been holding in person services for weeks.  We miss you all!  I miss live worship!  But I do know I am not alone in that.  Many people are in the same boat.  I'm not complaining, just telling the truth.  

I woke up the other day with this passage in my heart, "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end.  They are new every morning.  Great is your faithfulness!"  Lamentations 3:21&22.  It is so true.  New every morning!  I am thankful.  I am blessed.  

This song! Wow!

There was another in the fire standing next to me.  There was another in the waters holding back the seas.

It has been on loop in my brain and heart for over a month now.  Mark got a tattoo journaling his part of this journey (my EKG from surgery spiraling down his arm) and he plans to get these words tattooed next.  When he told me about it I absolutely crumbled.  It is the perfect description of this journey.  

I hope it helps encourage you.  I hope it reminds you that you are not alone in whatever fight you are in!

Until next time, many blessings and much love!