A Spring of Joy

Corrie ten Boom tells the story of her life in Ravensbruck, a Nazi concentration camp, during World War II. At one point, she and her sister, Betsie, were moved into new barracks into conditions that nauseate me to even think about. When they were assigned their bunks, they found the pallets not only filled with the the stench of bodily fluids, but they lay down into a bed covered in fleas. Corrie asked her sister how they were to live in such conditions, and Betsie turned her to the Word. In I Thessalonians, Paul writes, “Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all. Rejoice always, praying constantly, giving thanks in all circumstances…” In all circumstances, not just the pleasant ones… not just the ones we want. So Betsie and Corrie stood in the middle of a concentration camp–the foulest conditions, most horrendous torture and executions imaginable–and they thanked God for fleas. Fleas! Fleas that they knew would make their lives miserable. Fleas that would bite and sting and itch and make sleep impossible. They thanked God for fleas.

We recently passed the mid-point for Angie’s chemotherapy so it seems a good time for an update. I know it’s been a while, sorry ’bout that! Last Thursday (not Thanksgiving, the one before that…) was her 4th session, by far the worst to date. She was so wiped out last weekend that she couldn’t manage to stay awake to watch the last 5 minutes of the Dallas/Redskins game! Fortunately for her, we (the Redskins) crumbled as usual inside of the last 2 minutes, so her pre-game smack talking stands and I didn’t get the chance to rub an upset in her face. Oh well, maybe next year.

In a recent email, my friend, Monica, wrote, “The messages for our daughters and sons about what the world considers beautiful are everywhere… If we aren’€™t talking with them about what God thinks how else will they really know the truth?”

I see the images everywhere, beautiful women and men with perfect forms and flawless complexions. I hear what my youth group girls say about themselves and others. I see the securities and insecurities. I’ve felt them. And Monica is right, if we aren’t talking to them, from whom will they learn? From our beauty-obsessed entertainment culture? From their friends at school? From television and movies and music?

So my friend, Kristin, signed me up for this place called heavenlyhats.com. It’s a non-profit organization that provides hats to cancer patients. One day I got this big package in the mail with 5 hats of all different colors and styles in it. My kids’ favorite is the pink fuzzy one that Asher thinks makes me look like Ronald McDonald. Looks like he finally got his wish. Audrey has always been all girl–obsessed with shoes, purses and coats. Hats are her new favorite. She wears them all the time. (On a side note: for those of you who notice the Boston Red Sox logo on the the baseball hat, that was gift. Just so you know, I am not nor will I ever be a Red Sox fan. My hatred for them runs almost as deep as my hatred of the Yankees.)

Audrey cut another tooth last week–a cuspid. That’s one of the sharp ones. And it hurt. A lot. Add to that the frustration of a broken arm. Then top it all off with entering the separation anxiety stage at bedtime. I’m not too sure turning 19 months old was all that exciting to her. She had a rough week.

One of the most difficult side effects of my chemotherapy has been a condition known as “chemo brain”. Some people scoff at this “excuse”, assuming cancer patients are blaming chemo for their forgetfulness. Trust me, it’s real. It is hard to lose all sense of focus, forget the simplest of words, and be unable to put two sentences together in a legible fashion. It is a struggle… and I am a deep thinker. I love to bury myself in books that challenge me. If I am going to watch a movie, I want it to have a purpose to it. And if I watch television, it needs to be more than crude humor and sexual innuendo. I want something well-written, thought-provoking… something to challenge my mindset.

Corrie ten Boom wrote:

“When the train goes through a tunnel and the world becomes dark, do you jump out? Of course not. You sit still and trust the engineer to get you through.”

At some point in life, our worlds become dark. I look around at my friends and family. I read and watch the news. I hear stories from old college or high school buddies. I walk into a store or onto JMU’s campus or even to church. I look at faces and it hits like a brick wall. We all have tunnels in our lives.