Dancing With Fear

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted because I’m actually living after surviving chemotherapy. I’ve heard many say they never felt the symptoms of cancer; it’s the treatment that almost killed them. I agree, however, the chemo has given me life, at least for now. The “at least for now” sounds rather cynical, but I’m afraid of calling myself a cancer survivor. I’ve read stories of women who survived breast cancer only to see it resurface with a vengeance.

I just read Elizabeth Edwards book Resilience, thinking I would gain strength from her hope in the midst of several traumatic events, cancer being one of them. Instead, her words felt almost prophetic. Here is a quote from her book…

“The cancer was back. Well, I suppose the doctors would say it had never really gone. I thought the chemo chased it away... But it only chased away the big pieces; the smallest of pieces had stayed, hidden from the scans, too small for imaging: they had stayed and then grown. And now, here it was again, now grown, now in its new home. No longer in my breast, it had spread to my bones, maybe my lungs and maybe my liver. And it wasn’t leaving. Not ever. In that moment when I found out for certain that I would have cancer in me every single day until one day it finally took my life, all the reasons to live and the reasons to die, the way to live if I could, all danced before me, twirling, enticing until I chose a partner from among them. Live. Die. Fight. Curl up. Look for a hug. Give a hug. Cry. Cry. Cry.” Elizabeth Edwards

Though cancer is the obvious comparison, I’ve been thinking about how all of life entices us to choose a "partner from among them.” With Edwards cancer reoccurrence, “live, die, fight, curl up, look for a hug, give a hug, cry, cry, cry” are reasonable dance partners. As believers in Jesus or having faith in God, we have additional partners to choose from (faith, hope, trust, etc…) but we still have to choose who we will dance with and what message we will dance to.

Sometimes I feel a little psychotic because I seem to change partners more often than not. One day, I am dancing with “hope and faith." Then, without notice or because of some small trigger from my past, I will spend the day or days dancing with “fear and doubt”. Today, fear of hidden cancer, sadness from the recent death of a friend and merely trying to stay the course are enticing me to dance with fear.

Thankfully, my job requires me to stay engaged. Being a part of authentic community and believing my life has purpose sent fear back to the wall. It’s amazing how those two things can pull me out of the fetal position. Within five hours, I have changed dance partners again.

If you find yourself being enticed by fear, sometimes you have to walk through it. Ironically, dancing with fear and doubt usually lead to faith and hope. Other times, being with people (get out of the house) and having enough faith to simply do the next right thing will bring renewed hope.

Who are you dancing with today? There’s not a “right” answer to this question. My encouragement is to put words to the feelings rather than falling in a hole wondering why it’s difficult to get through the day. The dance of fear is always waiting to “cut in.” If the lesson is in the fear, walk on. If not, call someone, go out and live what you are passionate about and as always… do the next right thing.

FYI… as God would have it; I met with someone today who has worked in oncology for years. Her advice, “studies show that people who have a positive attitude, have some form of spiritual life and laugh often have a lower reoccurrence rate than those who don’t.” Go figure.
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If You Are Uncomfortable With the Word Breast, You Might Not Want To Read This Blog

For 53 years breasts were a non issue for me. They didn’t seem particularly important and I had very little use for them. On April 21, 2009 these six words changed my life: “Ms. Freeman you have Breast Cancer.” Since then my life has been controlled by the right breast, also known as the mutinous, insubordinate, defiant appendage. It has been poked, prodded, cut, filled with a balloon and then burned and fried. And as if that wasn’t enough this one breast led to the rest of my body being poisoned with every white blood cell murdered only to be resurrected in three weeks and murdered again, over and over and over. The final blow was becoming a sick bald woman in bed for six months at the mercy of my wonderful caretakers.

Announcement, drum role, listen up… Today, one year later, the prodigal breast has come home! This morning I went for my one year anniversary mammogram and the film was clear of any signs of cancer. My surgeon put up the two films to compare last years to todays. The ugly white blob that was splattered on last years X-Ray was gone.

Like the winter season, the cancer had to die before new life could be born. Spring is here and new life is present. I have no idea how God brings forth life from death, heals the sick parts of us (He has been working on my mind for thirty years) and replaces fear and pain with joy. As I was speechless a year ago when I exited the doctor’s office, I am speechless again.

Thanks to all of you for traveling this journey with me. I will go for mammograms every three months for several years and realize that reoccurrence may come. But for today this prodigal has come home and I am about to kill the fatted calf!

I encourage you to consider what parts of you have been lost this past year. Did something in your life have to die before you could experience new life? Have the illusions that were created by your ego and misguided belief that we are actually in control fallen to the ground so that God could show you something beautiful that is built on the truth of His love and grace?

Don’t miss the spring. Maybe new life is pushing through the earth to create a beautiful garden full of God’s glory. My springtime is symbolized by these tiny white hairs pushing through the surface of my bald head. I am learning to appreciate all different kinds of flowers that come in spring. What a difference a year makes.


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"Ms. Freeman, you have Breast Cancer"

Three weeks ago I heard the words, "Ms. Freeman, you have Breast Cancer.” They were spoken by a stranger after a sonogram. First of all, I never dreamed of having Breast Cancer. I was prepared for a heart attack, but never breast cancer. (If you know me, you know my arteries are filled with butter, bacon, eggs, all kinds of fried foods and every thing else that clogs the arteries.) If I was going to hear these words, shouldn’t I have been in the hospital, surrounded by friends and family when the Doctor came in to deliver the shocking news? I guess not. I dressed and walked out of the room wondering, well what should I do now? It’s 2:00 in the afternoon. Do I just call my close friends and family, ask about their day and say, “I just thought you might want to know that I have Breast Cancer.” It all sounded so dramatic. Since then, I have had tests, then waited. More tests, waited again. Bad news, then not so bad news. Finally, tomorrow at 9:00 am the surgeon is going in to take the tumor out.

Right now it is 11:45 pm and I have only 15 minutes to eat or drink anything I want. If you could see what all I have chosen for the “last supper and last snack” you might wonder if they shouldn’t be operating on my brain instead. If I should die “on the table” I want to make sure that I had Braums Banana Nut cookies just in case they don’t bake those in heaven. I have used the “If I die” card as many times as I could today but not too many people took the bait.

Kidding aside, my prognosis looks good. I have Stage II, grade III breast cancer. My tumor is now 3 cm large but there is no reason to believe that with the surgery, chemo and radiation that the cancer cells cannot be eliminated. We will find out tomorrow if the lymph nodes are involved.

The cancer diagnosis has caused me to think about what really matters to me. Stress probably played a significant role in my disease and stress and attitude will play a part in my recovery. I am going on a “stress free” diet. During the last nine months, I missed priceless moments because of grief and fear. I have a wake-up call and another "second chance" at life.

We play a “game” in Barnabas called “What’s left unsaid.” I’ve thought a lot about that this weekend. There were so many words last year and so many things “said” that I have not taken stock of what I really want to say. So, I am going to play this game tonight and say “what is left unsaid.” I want to say…

I’m sorry to anyone whom I have wounded.

I am saddened by the saying that “The church is the only organization that I know of who shoot their wounded.” I found this to be true. However, I also found that Jesus and the Body of Christ can still be found in the most unlikely places.

Freedom is only found when I allow the illusions that I have created to fall to the ground. It is then that the ground beneath me can not fall out from under me. The truth has set me free.

I am blessed to have loved deeply and blessed to be the recipient of others love. I have a few friends who are friends, no matter what. You know who you are.

I am sure that Jesus loves all people and that all are welcome at the table.

Pride does come before a fall. Damn ego!!

I wish that all of us could just be nice to each other. Judgments and shame kill people.

I love my son and my daughter.

Being a grandmother is better than being a mother.

Children and disabled people are the face of God.

The “I’m Right” game destroys relationships, organizations and churches.

God sends manna and money from the sky just in time.

I have met people who have different faith beliefs and I am struck by their goodness and grace.

When I thought that I could not live another minute, God sent Mercy.

“I never dreamed that home would end up a place that I don’t belong.”

My dog Katy is the most beautiful of Gods creatures.

Many people have suffered and died to give me the freedom that I have. I pray that I can pave the way for people after me so that they do not have to be judged.

Martin Luther King and everyday men and women were courageous when they fought for civil rights. Why am I just now “getting this?”

At 53, I still miss my Dad. He made me feel safe.

I miss my friend Mark. He could have helped. I wish I could have helped him.

Jesus loves me, this I know.

Most importantly, I believe that…

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.

Whatever it takes, I long to be in “that” group. I have a long way to go and will not get close until Jesus has made me perfect but His words bring me peace and remind me of what needs to be said and done as one of His beloved.

Looking forward to continuing this journey of grace with many of you.

Connie
(Sorry, but this is Barnabas lingo) By The Grace of God, I Am a Special, Worthy and Complete Woman, Who Needs God’s Help.







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