Cancer, Death and the Daunting Question, Why?

Judy Moss died this morning at 8:00 am. I wrote my thoughts down last week after visiting her in ICU but didn’t get them in my blog before she died. My words are inadequate but I pray you will get a glimpse of this generous, gracious woman who loved well. As I reflect upon her life and her death she remains a wounded healer.

My friend Judy is dying of cancer. I met Judy after her children, Mike Moss (B9) and Liz Moss (B23) went through Barnabas. Immediately, I found her to be kind and accepting. Theologically, she is probably more conservative than I am but she has accepted me with enduring grace and unconditional love. Though we never spent much time together, when I was diagnosed with cancer last year, I received a card from her with a check in it to help with my medical bills. When I began treatments she sent a wooden cross to me to hold during chemo. When her daughter Liz came by to check on me during my illness she told me that her Mom wanted to know how I was feeling and how my family, particularly Ricardo, was holding up through my illness. Judy was doing all this while fighting her own battle as cancer was spreading throughout her body.

Watching her journey over the last few years and seeing the torment she is now enduring ignites anger in me which asks, “So what are you doing now Lord?????” Clearly in my humanity I cannot understand how God interacts with such evil tragedies like death by cancer. Seeing her in ICU today it's hard to believe she is still alive with so little left of her physical body. Yet her spirit is clearly alive and her countenance is the same as it was before she got sick: kind, humble, thoughtful and full of faith. Many would say that the Spirit of God is always evident in her presence.

Too often Christians comfort themselves or others with beliefs such as, “God has a purpose which will be revealed later” or “this must be God’s will.” I don’t buy it. Surely the creator of the universe and the lover of our souls doesn’t sit on a throne as a parent unmoved by His children’s pain. Surely our God of grace doesn’t roam the earth deciding what illness or tragedy should be assigned to certain families. I’m not willing to get into a theological argument about what God planned or even foreknew. No one can answer the overwhelming question of “why?” If they try, they haven’t suffered.

So what is true in all of this? What is God doing? He is present. And that presence fills the room with peace. His presence lifts my heart out of the questions and calms me. God’s presence is tangible as He waits for Judy to be ready. When that time comes, the absence of her Spirit in the room will be deafening. Our memories will return to life before cancer and we will be comforted by the life she lived. Her family will grieve deeply because of her physical absence but will be grateful her suffering is over.

For now, those of us who stand by them can offer our presence and that will be enough.
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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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I Miss You Mark

I have stared at a blank page for a month trying to write about a good friend of mine who took his life one year ago. The grief is still so deep that I have not been able to put words to it. I think I am afraid that people will forget how he helped change so many of us. I cling to his memory, full of thanks for every morsel of truth that he mirrored to me. For those of you who did not know Mark, I invite you to read the text of my eulogy at his funeral. It may not be the best way to honor him but I don’t know what else to say. I must share his life as best I can.

You have had the privilege of hearing and meeting some of the people who walked alongside Mark as a friend or mentor. Though he was one of my best friends and co-worker, I am here representing the group of people who sat on the couch. Not the living room couch where friends and family sat but, you know, the big Blue one. (Mark was my therapist)

In case you were not fortunate enough to sit on that couch, let me see if I can give you a little taste of the gifts we received.

Week after week I crawled into that office sure that I was facing the crisis of a life time. Within 60 minutes Mark had convinced me that this was what I had been waiting for my whole life. It was my perfect opportunity to “Grow up.”

If you saw Mark professionally at some point you realized that getting a weekly time slot on his calendar was the way to go. If seeing him required a return phone call forget it. I don’t think he ever understood that returning phone calls and emails was his opportunity to “grow up.”

I can’t answer for all of you, but for me, I finally gave up trying to dress nice for our appointment because his shirts were always prettier than mine.

His hugs were so big that sometime I felt like a skinny person. It didn’t seem to matter how large I was he got those arms around me.

I was always thrilled when he launched into his “neurological brain talk.” It was an out for me because then I could believe that my emotional trauma was simply the result of patterns in my brain that were put there by someone else.

I liked to meet with him on Monday and offer him a cookie (he fasted every Monday.)

I loved to grab that fat little face of his in my hands and break into hysterical laughter over something that was probably a little irreverent.

Mark was brilliant. He could challenge the brightest of people and make things simple enough for a child to understand.

I loved to go to church when Lauren or Hannah (his daughters) were singing. Their singing was beautiful but seeing their father captivated by them was every little girls dream.

I liked it when things were really hard in a session and at the end he would give me a big hug and whisper a prayer in my ear.

I think the reason that we, “the couch people” are here today is that in Marks office and in his heart we found unconditional love and grace. He knew the worst parts of me and I never once felt ashamed in his presence. He gave grace that most people just talk about. He saw in us what we could not see in ourselves.

So why is it that I am standing up here today saying these things at a memorial service about a man who took his life? If he knew all of these things, surely he knew better.

After six days of fluctuating between anger and sadness this is what I am sure of...

Mark was a giver. He gave because he made a difference. He gave because God gifted him with a unique, powerful ability to understand people’s pain and love them in a way that helped change them.

When someone like Mark is contributing in “the sweet spot” of their gifts, in can be intoxicating. When someone like this comes along, we as the recipients of these gifted people must remember that they have limits. They are not God. They experience fear, sin, shame and disillusionment just like us. We are all plagued with hurt and pain to various degrees. Mark was too. But that’s what made him great at what he did.

Some people say that suicide is a selfish act. I think for some it is. For Mark, I don’t believe so. I believe that the pain that he knew so well deceived him into believing that he was doing the best thing for the people that he loved.

In 2001 Mark emailed these words to someone in his Barnabas group.

"The particular significance of psalm 139 is that it, for me is the prayer of exposure... i am so prone to stay hidden (at least the dark side of me) but i know that the only way to freedom is to be exposed... i love the fact that Jesus loves me so much that i can be fully exposed in my darkness and he brings light there... i don't have to hide in shame or fear.. that is, for me, the basis of true freedom and genuine authenticity... It’s incredible grace."

Mark led other people to the light and the grace of Jesus. He knew God's love for him and like us, constantly fought the battle between the truth and the lie. People will make up all kinds of reasons for Mark’s choice to end his life. It was not a good choice. It has and will cause great pain. But let’s not deceive ourselves into knowing what he was going through. Let’s be people of grace.

In our sadness, we think the darkness has won. But I know that if Mark could say something to me today, he would say, “What I told you is true. But it’s even better than I could describe it. When I was fully exposed in my darkest night, Jesus brought the light. I will never again have to hide in shame and fear. By the Grace of God, I am truly free.

Today, we grieve, tomorrow, let’s take the truth, as best we can out to people as Mark did for us. That is his legacy. His life and his death will make a difference if we go out and give what we were given.

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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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