"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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The Least Of These

During the month of March, we are highlighting the virtue of Mercy. God has been dispensing mercy for years and I am grateful to be one of His recipients.

As many of you know, I have a son, Ricardo, who is a special needs child that I adopted from Mexico. July 10 will mark our 18th anniversary of his entry into the US. Ricardo has a genetic disease that was diagnosed in 2004. The diagnosis explains so many unanswered questions that we had about the first 20 years of his life and his physical/mental/emotional challenges. Because of those issues, Ricardo has required more attention, energy, financial resources, patience and love from the many people who have surrounded him.

Two weeks ago, I had to take him to one of those emergency clinics because a two day “cold” turned into a full day of a stomach virus with a fever of 103 degrees. If you know Ricardo, you know that sitting in a hospital waiting room is not his forte. We rolled him into the crowded waiting room in a wheelchair and he was crying and passionately sharing some colorful words in Spanish. Ricardo’s “emotional expression” worked for us that Friday night as we were immediately brought back to an examining room with the nurse and doctor waiting for us. When we were waiting for the results of the blood test, I pulled the wheelchair up close to my chair and he stood up to sit in my lap. As I held my 24 year old son against my chest (don’t worry, he is the size of a twelve year old) I couldn’t stop the tears as I thought back about all of the emergency rooms and hospital rooms that we had been in through the years. The memories that flooded my mind were of the people who sat with us through many dark nights. People who lovingly restrained him when he was at risk of harming himself or others, people who held him through the night praying for God to heal him, people crying with me when the doctors thought the worst and people who had not only given him love but had been loved by him as only Ricardo can love. Through this precious boy, (one of the least by the worlds standards) I have seen MERCY sacrificially and unselfishly poured out covering both of us with comfort and love.

"The King will reply, I tell you the truth,
whatever you did for one of the least of these
brothers of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:39-41


Who is “one of the least” in your life?

How would your life be different if you were “one of the least” and needed mercy from other people?



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Your Mercies Are New Every Morning

This is the first of a weekly word of encouragement to all those who have walked through the desert of the lost and broken. We are all at different places in our journey. Some are in the middle of the desert while others taste the refreshing waters of new life. Wherever you are, a word of compassion might be God’s gift of mercy to you this morning.

Your mercies are new every morning.

So let me wake with the dawn.

When the music is through or so it seems to be

Let me sing a new song, old things gone

Every day it's true, You make all Your mercies new

Nichole Nordeman

As most of you know, Grace has been my heart cry for the last 30 years. God’s grace is not just the foundation of redemption, but it is woven into every fabric of my being. This transforming grace will always be the message that I am compelled to share with others on the journey.

Last fall, I found myself in a desert so dark that the light of grace was barely shining. In a million pieces, I boarded an airplane to Colorado Springs, fearful that my life was over. It was there that I found MERCY. (Mercy, defined by Strong’s Bible dictionary, is to help one afflicted or seeking aid.)

A group of caring and kind people attended to me and wrapped me in mercy. Through their extravagant kindness and compassion, I began the slow process of crawling to Jesus. The pain of those days still surface at times, but because of their act of mercy, the grace of God is shining again. The book, “Hinds Feet on High Places,” refers to our traveling companions, Sorrow and Suffering. God sent Mercy to join Sorrow and Suffering and this morning (a day at a time), I am resting in Grace and Peace.

In what ways do you need mercy today?

Who has shown mercy to you?

Is someone in your life crying for mercy?

How can you show mercy to them?

Thanks to the Mercy Center and my angels of mercy: Father Bill, Tim, Donna, Nancy, Margaret, Josie, Russ and my friends who are on the journey with me.


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