The community of cancer

For the first time in a very long time, my inner person is not struggling with the spectre of cancer. The chemotherapy protocol is finished, the CT scan showed no abnormality. In His goodness, God has answered the prayers of a good number of people, and my life has been preserved. My heart is full of gratitude and humility, for there are some very brave people at St. Elizabeth's Cancer Center who did not get the CT scan results that I got...I pray for them as I continue down the path that has been chosen for me. We are a community that has been forged in pain and grief, maintained through prayers and hope, compassionate, sometimes desperate. This club of cancer survivors, the dues are high...but the benefits are many. We know faith in the face of fear, we know God in the face of despair. At one time I wanted to run from this, to escape the chains and prison that would condemn me to die. Today I am free yet bound to those who suffer still, bound by the directive born of the love of God to bear one another's burdens. We are privileged to walk together in the darkness and in the light, those that suffer and those that are not afraid to share our suffering. Thank you for walking with me...continue in your prayers for Margie, Amy, Laura and Ruth.

August Updates

August in Ohio can be unbearable, but this year the place seems more like San Diego...cool nights, breezy dry days. Life is good...the girls are settled in their new homes...we are enjoying the quiet house and lazy weekends. September 10th is the last of this round of chemo and we approach it with trepidation, wanting so much for this journey to come to an end but wary of wanting it too much. We have met some very wonderful people, have cultivated a more tender heart for those who suffer and are able to see the fruit of God's spirit at work in us and in those He has placed around us. I am working the craft show circuit a little bit in September...if you are in Marysville September 6th, or Eaton's Pork Festival September 20-21, look us up! We have some new items, some clearance items and always custom made items that you won't find anywhere else!

A New Year

So it's February already...Valentine's Day has just past and the flowers in the vase on the dining table still look and smell wonderful. Mary and Elly are still comfortably at home. Bruce, the cat, has taken to jumping on every flat surface and playing with whatever is play-withable on the counters. I have started a new website for knitters...seems like a popular idea on the internet. I designed a new product for knitters/crocheters called a Knitty DittyBag. You might like to see it at www.knittydittybag.com. Knitting is one of my favorite things to do, and I never tire of it. I do tire of certain projects, so I sometimes have several going at once; hence the Knitty DittyBag...each project goes in it's own bag and can go with you when you want it.
Designing the product and the website has kept my hands and mind busy while I continue treatment for this blasted cancer. Anyone who wants to know what chemo is like should watch Frodo in the Lord of the Rings series. That is all I am going to say about that. I want to make a product that will be a way to support Ovarian Cancer research...keep an eye out for it.

Black Dog/White Couch

Elly is my daughter's dog, a shepherd-chow mix who is currently living with us... us including my daughter as well. She is an intelligent, sensitive animal who started life badly, ended up in a no-kill shelter and was rescued by Mary several years ago. I personally am not a big fan of dogs, having lived with several bad dogs during my childhood. Elly has been in our home before, never for this long, going on 2 months now. Mary graciously came home to help out with the treatment protocol as I progress through the chemotherapy regimen. This is going very well, my last one is next week. The dog is adjusting to new routines, some she likes such as daily long walks and swims in the nearby pond. I do this because everyone else is out working and I am staying home to work on my business. Others she doesn't like, such as the "gentle leader" which is the only way I can manage her outside. Also she is strongly discouraged from laying on the white couch and couch laying has a long history with Elly and Mary. As mentioned before however, the dog is intelligent and I have photographic proof that the dog lays on the couch secretly. With the cat.
Before Mary and Elly, our lives were pleasantly predictable and quiet and clean. Then came cancer and now we have medicines, self employment and lots of transient company and phone calls and dog hair. We also have long walks and energetic discussions about ideas a bright 22 year old feels passionate about and opportunities to learn how to cook vegetarian meals.
We are selling the couch on Craigslist. It is no longer white, now "off white". We bought a dog and family friendly futon to accomodate both dog and human, with an easy clean cover. Life is different now, better in many ways.
Who needs a white couch?

Changes

For the first time in my life, I have to totally rely on the strong arm of help from others as I begin the treacherous journey to Chemoland after a diagnosis of ovarian cancer last month. Many times in the last 10 years, as I have traveled to other countries to serve others medically, I have been reminded that we are all fragile creatures living on this big planet that can be wonderful but harsh. My strength to travel and serve has been challenged most especially the last few trips, when hardship and deprivation, and actual danger, threatened to end my life. Although ready to be spent for the cause of Christ's service in ministry, the idea of suffering through a health crisis seems significantly less dramatic and noble, and even more terrifying from the aspect of looming changes in appearance and ability to do all the things I had set out to do this year.
However, as I have the support and encouragement of many friends and family, and the strength inherent in following Christ through the valley of the shadow of death as I have done on more than one occasion, I will go to Chemoland. Perhaps there is a person there who needs to hear that Jesus loves her, and has not abandoned her, as we found in Sudan. I will gladly share my faith and my confidence in Christ's love and protection, in spite of the dangers that surround us on every side. That is what we strive to do as a team on every mission outreach, and this will be no exception. Those who want to join this team are welcome to participate in prayer and comments are welcome.
I will continue to sew, create, design and dream up new ideas for this business. Thanks to all who have been so supportive and generous during this time of change. God Bless You!

Sudan Trip

In the Nuer language the people greet each other kindly:
Ma lay= hello, how are you.
Our reply is: Ma lay, ma lay me gua= hello, very well, good to see you.
Follows are lots of smiles. We are not so different.
Here is the link my picasa web album for looking at the pictures of my trip:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Onthefringealbum/SudanWebAlbum2007
There are only 50 pictures, a representation of the almost 600 pictures that were compiled by the seven of us on our adventure. Please look at them, comment if you like.
So many memories, not captured on film, still fill my everyday world. A mother's tears as she holds her extremely ill child, a husband's tears as we pray over the lifeless body of his wife we desperately tried to save. Being boldly touched by children not sure we were real, not ever having seen a person with white skin. Constant thirst, drinking filtered water that was as hot as the 100 degree air tempurature, laying in the tent at night, wide awake, covered in sweat...the air so completely still and suffocating. People coming for miles around with war wounds, unhealed bullet wounds, bleeding afresh with each dressing change, for 4 long years; a girl with a thigh high prosthetic leg, a man with a years old unhealed oozing skull fracture. All problems that we could do nothing about, because we were not surgeons, there were no instruments, there is not eletricity for sterilization, no way to do skin grafts or bone grafts. The old people we saw, old being over 40, stooped and blind and barefoot dusty feet with worn toenails. The children, everywhere, the babies, signs of peace, bone thin but smiling, some spoke English that they were learning in the school that had finally reopened. The Sudanese faithful, who told us they had prayed to God, "have you forgotten us?" and now they know He has not.
And we have not, we will not.

Adventure in Sudan

Stay tuned for more information on Volumteers in Medical Mission's trip to Akobo Sudan