From the Rector's Desk

Grill and Chill

In the Summer Kitchen

Sonrise Banquet Request

Stewardship

Notes...

Prayer Requests

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"I don't claim to have any insights that aren't covered in a thousand other books and letters and articles by those who have walked this path before me, but this is what I've got. If there is anything that may be of value to our Redeemer community, I trust the Holy Spirit to do the sifting.

1. I love life. The prospect of this life ending for me (though not without hope of life beyond this life) has made me much more grateful for the gift of living and seeing and hearing and relationships and this beautiful world. This year has brought us more stress and concerns - beyond cancer - and yet I'm grateful even for the bad days. I demand less perfection from a day. Certainly I don't demand to have "good hair days" any longer. Even the suffering that a day may bring holds a kind of beauty for me. My new favorite song is: "What a Wonderful World."

2. I really believe what I said I believed. Like all that stuff about eternal life? And resurrection? And the new heavens and the new earth? Yeah, that's a lot more real to me now.

I didn't know anything beyond the basics of cancer treatment before this year. Now I know that, despite our advanced medicine, doctors have only a few tricks up their sleeves: surgery, radiation and chemo. Yes, there are some variations on those three themes, but that's basically what they've got. And there are no guarantees with those three treatments. In fact, I figure that 100 years from now people will look back on today's treatment regimen as so much blood letting. So pretty early on I realized (with a "duh!") that my life really is in God's hands. That can be a pretty daunting thing if you don't trust the God who holds you, but I do trust Him.

At one point I was really sick from radiation. Dave and the kids were scared, and I don't think I've ever felt worse in my life. Dave asked me, "Where is God when you're sick like this?" And I said, "He's right here. He's suffering with me. He hasn't left me." These lyrics are a comfort in the lonely times, when my fatigue keeps me locked inside my own head:

There is no damage that God cannot heal
There is no sadness that He did not feel
Moment by moment He's there where you hide
Tenderly holding you close as you cry
Jesus, the Lord of the lonely inside
Jesus, the Lord of all love, crucified

During treatments I envisioned myself hidden in Christ as I lay on the radiation table in that crucified-like position, knowing that nothing could touch me that He did not allow and already receive through His body. I don't know how to explain and philosophically prove my confidence in God's trustworthiness, but that sums up my experience with Him throughout this year.

3. Cancer hasn't made me a better person. Suffering does not equal godliness. Despite what all those Movie of the Week cancer stories say about radiant survivors, I can be just as irritable and impatient as ever. I'm a little afraid, when I am back to "normal," or whatever I will be after chemo ends, that I'll forget how much I leaned on the prayers and kindnesses of others. However, I hope I will find myself a little more sensitive to others, and a little quicker to extend the compassion I've received to those who need it.

4. The community at Redeemer is awesome! I'm grateful that our Pastor, Jay, started out this whole journey for me by setting me free from ministry obligations. He helped make room for all that treatment and recovery would entail, and by saying, "This is your year to be ministered to," he helped me receive from others. Thank you!! And as for the larger body: I felt continually carried throughout the year in prayer and "practical" ways. I have experienced the "one anothers" in action. Many, many times I saw myself as the invalid who was lowered down on a pallet by friends who brought me to Jesus' healing presence. I want people to know how life-giving they have been to me... I want them to know how I leaned on their prayers and how grateful I am for their perseverance... I hope they are experiencing the same love in their lives... and I pray that this love for one another will continue to spread throughout our congregation.

My diagnosis and treatment have opened my eyes to see how rich I am. When the Kellogg Cancer Center psychologist stops by to evaluate how I'm doing (they like to identify depression early and provide mental health services, if needed), I always tell her that I feel so blessed and supported throughout this process that I can't conceive of a need that isn't met. She calls this "adaptive denial" — a term I laughed at because it sounds so negative, but which she says means that I am living a life that is not defined by the disease, and that's a good thing. But I call it experiencing the love of the Body of Christ, which has carried me body, soul and mind courageously and indefatigably throughout this year."

— Sallie Vroom