Dancing With The Healer

23.  Dancing With The Healer

 

Bad news goes about in clogs, Good news in stockinged feet.

Welsh Proverb

 

In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth

is a revolutionary act.[143]

 

April 26, 2000

Today is surgery.  I’m more afraid this time, but not about the outcome of the surgery.  I’m afraid because I know how uncomfortable I’ll be.  I hate the pain.

We don’t know if it’s cancer, and worrying about it won’t change anything, anyway.  I think I’ve made some progress in the “Worry Department.”

I was remembering that five or six weeks ago I was thinking about the Cross and my life.  I wondered how I would feel if I found out that my part in God bringing this wonderful “thing” to Trinity (that we’re expecting) would be to actually die.  Christ’s death on the Cross accomplished so much.  Could I trust God to carry me through a painful death, and would I be willing to let my life be used in that way, to glorify God?

I don’t really have a sense that this is what I’m about to face, but it is curious that I thought of it so recently.

Right now I’m trying to keep my eyes on God and put my faith in His love for me and Lowell.  We’re praying for a miracle today.

 

 

This is the first reference to death and dying in Vicki’s journal, the first acknowledgement that there was that possibility.

April 28, 2000 – Lowell’s Journal

Today I’m sitting in Vicki’s hospital room – room 353 at Henrico Doctors’ Hospital … and I’m rejoicing!  She’d doing well.

About ten days ago Vicki was at a women’s event when she experienced some excruciating pain in her stomach and back.  She had a CAT Scan on Maundy Thursday and on Good Friday we got a phone call from Chip, telling her that he saw something on her Scan he didn’t like.

Vicki decided not to go to Houston to visit Wendy and the new baby – Jack.  Instead we scheduled surgery for Wednesday, April 26th, at 4:30 PM.  We spent Easter weekend calling family and friends, making arrangements, cleaning house, praying, preparing.  On Tuesday we had lunch with Frank and Lisa Potter, and then we went to the IMAX theater to see “Fantasia.”  Finally … and most cool … we went to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse and had a great date!

Wednesday late morning the Winsteads arrived, and then I took Vicki to HDH.  John Hershman met us in the Outpatient Admissions office where we were checking in for surgery.  We had a “lovely” visit – Ha!  Lots of laughs and fun, and then a wonderful prayer.  Then Vic went to have some blood work while John stayed long enough to blow my mind.  He said, with tears and more emotion than I had seen … since his brother-in-law almost died on Kilimanjaro … “I’m really into this!”  I love John so much.  I followed him out, into the hallway.  We embraced.  He cried.  It was a moment that will always be precious to me.

 

Vicki was in recovery when I got word that she was doing fine.  I relaxed a bit, thanked God for protecting her, and retreated up to her room where I would wait for the nursing staff to bring her up.  Just minutes after I picked out a worship CD that I thought would create a peaceful atmosphere to aid in her recuperation, Dr. Jones arrived.  He had been looking for me.  He told me what he and his colleagues had discovered during the surgery.  A pathology report wasn’t due for a couple of days, but Dr. Jones already knew the report would confirm a setback.  He touched my shoulder, and left the room.

April 30, 2000

It’s Sunday – I’m still in the hospital.  We know they could only remove part of [what turned out to be] a tumor.  The rest was attached to my aorta and the muscle in my back (called the psoas major), and they determined that the rest was “inoperable.”

They’re talking radiation, at the least.  It sounds pretty ominous, but God continues to send hope our way.  Lowell was reading to me from [one of ] Reinhard Bonkke’s books[144] and we were listening to the “Revival In Belfast” cd, and I felt God was saying to me that, yes, He loved me, but He also loved our city, Richmond.  I had told Him that I wanted Him to us me to reach the lost “whatever it took.”  He said, “My Son made Himself available, even unto death on a cross.  When you make yourself available is it only for the pleasant things?  Why are you surprised or why do you feel betrayed and mistreated when I allow you to suffer as My Son suffered?  Do you not understand what it means to ‘share in the fellowship of His suffering?[145]‘“

How did Christ’s suffering glorify God?  In many ways:

1) His attitude was submissive to God’s will, whatever that involved.

2) It show His absolute trust in God’s love for Him.

3) He knew the outcome involved so much more than just His own comfort … or pain.

4) He trusted God to use His death to increase and expand His Kingdom.

5) The end result was resurrection and victory over death and Satan and the kingdom of darkness.

We’re so spoiled in our thinking.  We’ve convinced ourselves that if God really loved us, He would never allow us to suffer.  Yet Christ invited us to suffer as He suffered; to take up our cross and follow Him.  Are we so arrogant that we think we should choose our own suffering, or, like Christ, should we submit ourselves to God and let Him choose for us, and lead us according to what is best for His Kingdom?

I’ve told Christ so many times that I want my life to count for His Kingdom.  Maybe, just maybe, He trusts me and Lowell enough to let us suffer in a way that will wake people up in the Church and cause them to get more serious about Him and more willing to do a little suffering for the sake of the Kingdom.

I do trust Him.  I trust Him to use this for His glory, and I trust Him to heal me in the end, and defeat the kingdom of darkness!

 

The Winsteads suggested that Vicki come to Florida, drink in some sun, be around her little nieces (which was always encouraging and energizing), and let them nurse her back to health.   That was a great idea!

Before Vicki left for Florida we talked about how we should bring everyone up to speed.  Phone calls were made to family members, and she suggested we write our precious church people a letter.  We did.

May 7, 2000 – A Letter to Our Friends

James 5:16 – “… Pray for each other so that you may be healed.  The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”

Just this past Thursday, May 4th, we found out that Vicki has a recurrence of ovarian cancer.  Her condition involves not only the tumor that was operated on ten days ago, but “clusters” of cancerous cells free-floating in her abdomen.  Vicki’s condition is very serious.  The remaining portion of the tumor has been deemed in operable, and because of its location (situated on top of the vena cava and aorta, and next to her kidney), the use of radiation will be limited to pain management only.  The treatment recommended by our team of surgeons and specialists is chemotherapy, and the chemical of choice is Topotecan.  (The chemo will be administered weekly, if needed, on an outpatient basis.)  It is the opinion of our treatment team that the chemotherapy and radiation treatment will not cure her disease, but it will prolong her life.

The prognosis is this simple:  we need a miracle!  Only God can bring Vicki complete and total healing.  Medical science has no cure.  With that in mind, we are praying that God will remove the tumor and remaining clusters, and that Vicki’s cancer will be dried up and destroyed supernaturally.  We are not looking to super-nutrition or science.  We are looking to God.

Just before Vicki left Saturday morning for Florida, I asked her what she would have me say to the congregation at Trinity.  After see quoted James 5:16 to me, replied, “I need righteous people praying for me, Lowell.  I don’t need just prayer.  I need righteous people praying.  Our people need to understand that this is an opportunity, not just to see and experience a miracle of healing, but to see and experience a movement toward God!  Because we need it!”

 

I closed the letter to our church family by saying,

Thank you for loving us, caring for us, praying for us, and serving us in so many wonderful ways.  Your kindnesses have sustained and blessed us.  We love you so very much!  Lowell and Vicki.

 

The church was packed to the rafters the morning I read this letter to the folks at Trinity.  Including the children present in our nurseries and Power Station (our version of Children’s Church), there was almost 400 in attendance.  Our worship leader, Cheryl Orms, and the team of musicians serving with her that morning, helped us focus our attention on God and away from the circumstances that hung like a cloud over the auditorium.  When I stood to read the letter it was so quiet I thought I could hear my own heart beat.  When I finished reading it the congregational response was what I hoped it would be.

Years before, in 1996, Trinity had stopped having “church as normal,” with a lot of formality and no life to speak of.  Back then I had encouraged the people to respond to the presence of God in a way that would honor Him and be appropriate for the moment.  We didn’t swing from the chandeliers or roll on the carpet.  Sometimes we were like fans at a baseball game or a rock concert, that is, when God hit a home run.  We didn’t yawn.  We responded.  We clapped, sang, stood to our feet, raised our hands … and if we had had lighters, and it would have fit the moment, we would have fired them up and raised them over our heads!

Our friends, the people we called “our church family,” responded to the letter by standing to their feet.  With no encouragement from me or anyone else they all began to pray for God’s Holy Spirit to change them.  They prayed for “clean hands and pure hearts.”  Some people left their seats and moved silently down to the front, knelt at the altar, bowed their heads, and asked God to make them “right” – the core of what it means to be righteous.  In mass Trinity asked God for a cleansing.  Then they asked for Vicki’s healing.

 Later that day I drove down to Land O’Lakes, Florida to rejoin Vicki.  My heart was full of hope and thanksgiving.  I had faith to believe that God had begun something extraordinary in our lives.

Our family was wowed when some generous friends at Trinity gave us frequent flier miles so that Brandon could fly in from England and Chris could join us from China.  With her whole family around her, Vicki recuperated quickly, in spite of more unwelcomed news from Richmond.

May 19, 2000

I’ve been in Florida with my parents and Wendy and Jack for two weeks.  Brandon, Chris and Lowell have all come, too. 

We were told by Dr. Jones at our surgery-follow-up visit that things look pretty bad.  They don’t recommend radiation because of the potential damage to my kidneys and bowel.  They would use radiation only for “pain management.”  The chemo he recommends had only “limited effect” on the in vitro tumor samples, and he indicated we aren’t looking at a cure.  Instead Dr. Jones hoped “to extend my life.”

Sounds pretty ominous, huh?

Well, those are the facts.  Man’s best guess … and perhaps Satan’s best attempt to defeat or discourage us.  So … what now?

We’ve been doing research on “alternative treatments,” talking to a nutritionist and lots of well-meaning friends and family.  We’re thoroughly confused and overwhelmed!  It feels like last time, but so much is at stake this time.  If God doesn’t heal me or lead me down the right path, I really will die.

I’ve been afraid again.  I’ve had some fear of the usual things – not being there to see my boys get married and have children; not being able to grow old with Lowell and see all the things we’ve dreamed of for Trinity; facing a long, painful death; disappointing all the precious people who are praying for my healing.

But most of all, I’m afraid that I won’t find a way to hear God speak to me – that I won’t know what path He wants me to take; that I’ll make my best guess (chemo or nutrition), and it won’t be the path He has chosen for me.

But then He reminds me through His Word and the many cards and letters I’ve received, and through my precious husband, that He loves me and wants to lead me.

When I pull aside from all the noise and chaos that is pulling at me, and I spend time with Him, I know that He is faithful and loving, and He wants to show me His will for my life.  I believe that He will heal me.  I just don’t know how or when.  And I don’t know what my part is in my healing.  That’s where I need His wisdom.

This is too big for me.  I can’t bet my mind around it.  I can’t read fast enough to get all the fact I need on all the options available.

Lowell and I have been in such turmoil as we’ve discussed the different options, so we’ve decided to back off for a few days, seek God, and spend some time alone with Him and with each other.  We need to hear His voice.  We need His peace and assurance, that we’re following His plan.

Honestly, I’d rather trust in God, follow the path He has chosen for me, and die … than frantically search for a way to heal myself, and grow old outside of the will of God.

I do believe that God wants to heal me, but I desperately want to submit myself to whatever path He has chosen for me.  I know this cancer isn’t about me.  God has a bigger purpose and I get to be a part of it.  I don’t want to disappoint God or His people that are trusting in Him and me.

 

May 30, 2000

“I’m learning to trust You, God, [but] I’ve been so frustrated that You haven’t been speaking to me.  I’ve been praying, begging, and pleading for You to give me direction.  What path do I take in my cancer treatment?  How can I please You if I don’t know what You want?  How can I be obedient if I don’t know what to obey?  I’ve been frantically reading, making phone calls, and watching videos to try to do my part in giving You a way to speak to me … and still NOTHING!”

Then yesterday You reminded me that when Paul and Silas were in jail, they were singing.[146]  You said, “In all things, with prayer and thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.[147]“  I felt You tell me that You’ve heard my request and [You’ve observed] my persistence, and now I am to thank You for the answer [in advance].  I am to worship and praise You, [like Paul and Silas did].  I am to trust in all that You are and all that You’ve promised to be to me, because I am Your child.  But not only a child, but also a friend.  (“I no longer call you servants … I have called you My friends.”  John 15:15)

It’s almost too much to think of being a friend of God, but that’s Your desire and plan. 

I’m just beginning to experience a part of “the fellowship” of Your suffering, to appreciate the agony of the Cross, and the dread You must have felt of it before You faced it.  But for the joy set before You, You endured the Cross (Hebrews 12).

I have to keep my eyes set on You and the joy that will come from knowing You more … and becoming more like You through the discipline of suffering.

I believe that You will speak to me and let me know Your will.  (Last night was interesting.  I felt You wanted me to not take any more Ativan[148] for sleep, but instead to rely on You for my rest.  I didn’t take one for the first time in a month, and I was awake until 4:30 AM.  I know there’s a lesson here that I’m not quite getting. J

 

Vicki inserted that little drawing – the smiley face.  Whenever she felt she wasn’t understanding something, but the understanding would come in time, Vicki used that little symbol.

You’re talking to me and I love it!  On my walk today I felt You say, “Come on Vicki, dance with me,” and I remembered that on the few occasions when Lowell and I have danced together I always tried to lead.  [Lowell] always had to say to me, “Vicki, follow me.  Let ME lead.”

I actually laughed out loud and said, “Okay God, I’ll dance with You … and I’ll let You lead!”

When you’re the dance partner, you don’t know ahead of time where you’ll be led, but you trust your partner and move with them just a split second after they move.  I like to know where I’m going … but that doesn’t seem to fit the plan this time. 

I think He’s [God] is teaching me to trust Him in a way I’ve never had to trust Him before – not with Brandon’s rebellion or Lowell’s depression.[149]  At least I felt like I knew where God was going with that.  But not this time.  I haven’t had any direct word in my spirit about the outcome of this.  Will I live or will I die?  Somehow, I don’t even think that’s the main point.  There’s so much more at stake here than whether I live or die.  I’m going to die one day anyway.

This has been a wonderful wake-up call.  I’ve determined in my heart that I want to make every day count that I have left … whether it’s one year or fifty.  I have a purpose; a wonderful purpose … and it’s to glorify God and draw people to Him.  I know I can’t do it in my own strength, but if I remain IN Him, I will bear much fruit.[150]  I’ve got to keep my eyes on Him and off of my fleeting circumstances. 

Help me, Lord.