angels

Hope Recycled

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He was only 21 when a massive seizure revealed a Stage 3 brain tumor. Surgery, chemo and radiation followed. Then every six months, another MRI to determine the location of a possible re-occurrence.hope - scrabble letters

Throughout the next five years, every six months…another visit to the oncologist. His surprised response every time , “I don’t understand it. This type of tumor always returns.”

“God is bigger than cancer,” I said.

My response to the doctor did not come from a strong faith or a determination to refuse the negative course. I was one scared Mama.

But even before they wheeled my precious son into the neurology wing at Saint Lukes, God had whispered to me a promise from Psalm 41:3.

“The Lord will sustain him on his sickbed and restore him on his bed of illness.”

Throughout the next months, hope revived as the cancer did NOT return, as friends and family helped with medical bills, as the Carnival for Caleb was organized, as people prayed.

And God was faithful to his promise. Now, eleven years later, my son wears the label, “Cancer Survivor.”

Sometimes when we have a lull between the horrors of life, we forget what God has done, what he continues to do each day as he regulates our heart beats and counts the hairs on our heads.

Isaiah 63 reminds us how the Israelites forgot. They tuned out God’s loving voice and lived in rebellion, forgetting the God who opened the Red Sea with his breath.

But God loves his kids, so he helped those rebellious Israelites again and again. A reminder that he was still their God, no matter what their attitudes and actions said.

Eleven years since cancer tried to steal away my son, then suddenly – a simple hernia procedure turned into a major complication.

Days in the hospital colored by red jello. Beeping machines. Multiple shifts of the health care team.

My precious son’s face wrinkled in pain.

Again – a scared Mama. But God’s grace reached down to remind me of that Psalm 41:3 promise. The same today as it was eleven yesterdays.

A presence in the sterile room. An angel standing guard near his bed.

Hope recycled into another practical reminder that God cares for his kids – for my kid.

And no matter what the outcome, even if we drown in our Red Seas, God’s breath is still powerful, still able to rescue, still the ultimate victory.

We soldier on. We still believe and we underscore the certainty of what the Almighty has done.

Hope recycles as we choose to not forget.

 

©2018 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved

If you’re needing some hope during the crossing of your Red Sea, check out Hope Shines. Encouraging nuggets for each day.

Hope When Christmas Changes

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Throughout our city, wherever we went, we heard it.

In grocery stores, libraries, Target and WalMart – even during church services where it occurred in stereo sound – one person in the aisle echoed by someone across the room.

I called it The Great Cough of 2016.pharmaceutical-symbol

In spite of our vitamins, clean eating and daily spraying through the house with Lysol, my son and I both caught the Christmas bug.

With all our plans for the holidays suddenly deleted, we dragged our pitiful selves to our respective recliners. The cat glanced back and forth as we coughed, trying to rid our bodies of what the doctors called “Upper Respiratory Infection.”

So Christmas plans changed. None of our usual holiday foods. I wasn’t cooking anything except chicken soup. Unwrapped presents waited in Amazon boxes. Worse, we were not able to spend Christmas with the family in Oklahoma. This was the first year since I served as a missionary that I did not see my mother for Christmas.

But we could  not force ourselves into the car for a five hour trip. And why take our germs across the state line to risk the health of the entire family?

We found an urgent care open on a Sunday – bless the hearts of that staff ! We armed ourselves with legal drugs – thank you to the hard-working pharmacy staff ! We stayed in bed and slept late – when the coughing didn’t wake us up.

Then Christmas happened in spite of illness. My son’s girlfriend and her family invited us for a delicious meal and an evening of fun – playing table games with hygienic gloves on, trying not to cough on anyone.

The next day, we piled cough drops into my purse and escaped the sick house for a movie. I highly recommend “Collateral Beauty” with Will Smith’s poignant performance of a man dealing with intense grief. The twist at the end gave us plenty of conversation starters as we managed an evening breakfast at IHOP.

Then we collapsed into our recliners again – still coughing. The Grinch tried to steal Christmas from Cindy Lou Who while George Bailey learned how to live a wonderful life.

Our Christmas may have looked different and not what we planned but we survived it. The promised Messiah still came. The beauty of Luke chapter two remained solid and the twinkle lights on our tree reflected a glowing  angel at the top.

Hope survived our Christmas changes as gradual healing brought us upright to face a new year. The Great Cough of 2016 did not win, because Christmas is not about food, health, presents or travel.

Christmas incorporates the beauty of music, joy, light and a Love that forever transforms lives. No matter how we celebrate the season, the root of its beginning cannot change. And in that security, we find hope in the eternal promise – Immanuel – God with us.

©2017 RJ Thesman, Author of the Reverend G Trilogy http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh

Seeking Hope After Christmas

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Because I love Christmas, it is always a bittersweet challenge to pack up everything, tape the boxes closed and carry Christmas to the basement.mantel after Xmas

I simply cannot endure the thought of an entire year before I pull out the twinkle lights, caress my angel collection and replay memories associated with the ornaments.

This Christmas was especially difficult as my son had to work through the holidays. I missed being with him as I remembered Christmases past and the excitement of a little boy discovering his first drum set, a giant box of Legos and a package of plastic army men.

This Christmas also brought more confusion for my mother. Her Alzheimer’s side effects seem to peak during the holidays, when I long for her to remember the daughter she sewed for, the special box of books she placed under the tree with my name on the tag, my excitement when I opened that box and knew I would soon be transported into the mysterious world of Nancy Drew.

This year, Mom didn’t even remember that Dad now lives in heaven. Our quality time was nonexistent, and when I drove her back to assisted living – she argued about living there. She couldn’t even remember why someone had given her presents.

So to preserve some joy of the season, I rearranged my pearl lights on the mantel and merged winter accessories with pine cone candles. Just a touch of Christmas to lessen the loss.

But I needed more. I have learned the best way to preserve the joy of Christmas is to proactively use my Christmas cards. I keep them in a pile beside my Bible, then each morning throughout January and February, I choose one card and pray for that person or the family that sent the card.

I remember special friends and family members, clients and colleagues by reminding God of their importance in my life, lifting up their needs to the only one who can fulfill them.

It helps me tolerate the cold fingers of winter as I focus on the warm love of the God who transcends every season and time.

So as we move into 2016, let’s all try to find more tangible ways to seek hope.

Then next year during Christmas, we can celebrate with extra joy.

©2016 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh

 

Reading Reverend G

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It’s just the sweetest thing.

A lady in my Sunday School class has a difficult time these days. She struggles from the side affects of a brain cyst. Although she has lived a full life and raised children, worked outside the home and managed the household – she now struggles to deal with the basic necessities of life. Her husband cares for her, while a daughter and her family moved in to also help with her care.

Although this dear woman no longer reads for long periods of time, she bought one of the Reverend G books. 3D Rev G coverShe and her husband wanted to support and encourage me. It awed and humbled me at the same time.

Another couple in my Sunday School class decided to take on the task of reading my book to this dear woman. So every week, they drive over to her house and read a chapter or a section of the book. Together, all of them laugh and cry with Reverend G.

Each Sunday, they tell me about it and I imagine them sitting together in the living room, sharing the words that God birthed in me, ministering to each other.

I also imagine angels in the room as these dear saints share a kindness with each other. Again, I am blessed and awed for the ways this simple story blesses people.

Reverend G illustrates the importance of living each day to the fullest – of finding extraordinary joy in the ordinary details of life.

That’s what these folks are doing. They are finding and sharing joy with each other, reading through a fiction book and imagining it as real. They are showing love to each other even as they validate my task as the writer.

It’s just the sweetest thing.

©2013 RJ Thesman