Can We All Say Plot Twist?

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. (Romans 5:3-4)

 

 

For those of you who neither write nor read fiction, a plot twist occurs when the main character in the story appears to be heading on an obvious course. Suddenly, through the craftiness of the writer, the character’s path takes an unexpected turn, forcing her to fight against unbelievable odds. That’s great writing. It imitates life.

The Author and Finisher of my faith and my life has been using plot twists a lot lately, just to keep my role interesting.

Plot Twist!

After the biopsy and the radiologist assuring us I’d need more chemo, I prepared to hear “we’ll start tomorrow” from the oncologist. Instead he said, “No chemo at this point.”

I know it was good news. But in the moment, I felt let down as though I had prepared myself to receive a powerful punch in the gut, only to have my opponent pull back, gently stroke my cheek, and say, “Psych.”

The doctor explained there were other options to receive the desirable results just as quickly without the harshness of IV chemo. He would save that as a last resort. He would start me on a new hormone therapy called Faslodex, which consists of two shots in the fleshy part of my anatomy (yes butt). Plus, he prescribed an immunotherapy (oral chemo) to accompany the Faslodex. Apparently for some patients, the combination works well.

Plot Twist!

Three days later, I arrived at the clinic to receive my first 2 shots and the information about the side effects of the immunotherapy. The nurse entered the room, looked a little grave, and said, “I have nothing to tell you. Your insurance won’t cover this new immunotherapy because we had to take you off Ibrance.”

But! Wait. What?

That’s when I learned the real reason they took me off Ibrance was not because it was making my neuropathy worse, but rather it had a attacked my immune system, causing my white blood cell count to drop to one. And all this time, I thought they were just being nice not wanting to worsen my neuropathy. Silly me. Turns out since, Ibrance did that, there’s a very high risk that any similar drug will do the same. So no immunotherapy for me.

Exit nurse one. Enter nurses two and three. I knew I was scheduled for two shots that day. I had to laugh when two nurses came into the room. I don’t know—it just struck me funny. So I said, “What two shots—two nurses?”

“Yeah. Unless you’d rather have one at a time. We usually give both at the same time because it takes two minutes per shot.”

“Sounds good. Let’s gitter done.”

And that’s how I learned to be careful what I tell friends at church. I told one friend that it reminded me of when I took my granddaughter to get her ears pierced. Two ladies stood on either side, counted to three, and just like that the task accomplished without giving the child a chance to change her mind.

That friend told another friend I had my backside double pierced and wanted to know if she should buy me hoops or studs as a gift. The second friend looked at me with puzzlement and deep concern. She wasn’t sure if it was some kind of joke or if I had honestly gotten into body piercing. I shook my head, as I told her what had happened. We shared a good laugh—good medicine for the soul, right?

These two friends have suffered through their share of hardships. They persevered. And now, they’re definitely characters. They give me hope. I sure love them.

How about you? What plot twist is God using to develop a strong character in you?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

We’ve Got a Complication

“Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

As I waited for my lung biopsy, the doctor entered my cubical, leaned his shoulder on the wall, and introduced himself. His next statement stunned me.

“We’ve got a complication.”

I furrowed my brow. How could we have a complication? I just draped myself in a hospital gown and climbed onto the gurney. They hadn’t done anything yet to complicate.

“The pet scan you had yesterday,” he continued, “showed fluid on your right lung. It has hidden the spot I’m supposed to biopsy, which means we’ll do two procedures today. First, we’ll tap the fluid from your lung, then we’ll do the biopsy as planned.”

Well, knock me over with a feather. Seriously, talk about a plot twist.

Gene asked the next obvious question, “Where’d the fluid come from?”

The doctor said, “The tumor is growing rapidly, demanding the blood vessels feeding it to grow rapidly as well. Blood vessels in adults aren’t supposed to grow. So when they do, they develop leaks through which the fluids, not the blood, in the vessels drain.”

This is serious, I thought.

As though he read my mind, the doctor confirmed my thoughts, “This is very serious. We need your cooperation. When I say stop breathing, I need you to stop. Do not take a deep breath or exhale. Simply stop breathing.”

He explained more of the complications that could arise if I did the wrong thing, which made more nervous. I felt like I was going to take a major exam that I hadn’t studied for. I was sure to fail. So for the next 30 minutes or so, I practiced.

Breathe. Stop. Breathe. Stop. Breathe. Stop.

My stomach twisted into knots. I prayed, “Lord, if I ever needed your peace, I need it now.”

The nurse came for me. Gene kissed me and walked in the opposite direction. Double doors open. Ceiling lights glittered. More double doors open. And I prayed.

We finally reached our destination. I scooted from the gurney to the CT scan table. They positioned me then rolled me into the machine for a preliminary scan. They marked the spot to go in.

I prayed and found myself so relaxed that I almost fell asleep before the gave me the sedative. It was a mild one to relax me. They wanted me awake for both procedures. I only felt a cold sensation when they rubbed a numbing agent on my side and pressure when they inserted the needle. I was so relaxed the doctor never asked me to stop breathing.

God was definitely with me through those procedures that day, as I put into practice Joshua’s command to his army: “Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

The Lord’s faithfulness never ceases to amaze me.

How about you? How has God answered your prayer for peace?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

A Treasure in Wood Chips

I will give you the treasures of darkness And hidden riches of secret places, That you may know that I, the Lord, Who call you by your name, Am the God of Israel. (Isaiah 45:3 NKJV)

A Child of the King

Before taking the youngest three grandactives to the playground a few weeks ago, I suggested Sydney leave her mood ring on our kitchen table. She assured me it stayed on her finger. So I didn’t press the issue. The kiddos played for a couple of hours on the swings, the teetertotters, bouncy animals, and the jungle gym. Finally, they decided they needed something to drink, and we headed home. Sydney looked a bit moody. I questioned her.

“Eli lost my ring.”

“What was Eli doing with it?”

“We were playing a game. I gave it to him. He put it in his pocket. It fell out.”

We took the other two grandactives home. Pap got them drinks, while Sydney and I headed back to the playground. I told Sydney to pray that Jesus would help us find her ring in the wood chips that covered the entire playground—yeah, finding a needle in a haystack.

We searched the ground below the swings. Sydney climbed through the tunnels in the jungle gym. I scanned the ground beneath the jungle gym. We looked around the teetertotters and the bouncy animals. No ring. Sydney went back to the swings to search again since that’s where Eli had hung upside down. I paused by the slide and whispered another prayer.

“Lord, please show us where that ring is. It sure would mean a lot to this child…and to that one.”

I reached for a glittering object. My hear sank when I realized it was a wrapper off a pack of cigarettes. “Why can I see things like that and not the ring?” I turned, searching. Another object sparkled in the sun at the bottom of the slide. I picked it up and twirled it between my fingers then raise my hand.

“Sydney, look what I found!”

She ran to me. I gently pushed her ring on her finger. She sobbed as I said, “See how much God loves you.”

We never would have found that ring without the Lord’s help. He knew exactly where it was. But finding the ring wasn’t the important thing that day. Sydney found a treasure I pray she never forgets—God loves her and wants to show her priceless treasures that last for life.

When we go through cancer, it may feel as though we’ve lost something very important to us. Our hopes may dwindle with our health. But God wants to restore our sense of wellbeing. He has promised to give us treasures in dark places. We have to enter those places to find the treasures, just like Sydney and I had to return to the playground to find her ring.

We could have prayed all night and day for two weeks and never would’ve found it if we hadn’t gone looking for it.
God desires to help us, to comfort us, and to restore what we’ve lost through cancer. But we have to do our part. We have to seek the treasures He has for us. They may not be what we think we’re looking for. They may be treasures of far greater value than health. They may be treasures for eternity.

How about you? What has God helped you find?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks.

Anxiety Strikes

Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:5-7)

By the time you read this post, I will have had my appointment with my oncologist about the results of my recent CT scan. It’s difficult to wait. I admit, I’m anxious about it. Will the findings lead to more tests, another biopsy, more chemo?

I know anxiety isn’t from God. It does more harm than good. That’s why God would rather we cast all our concerns on Him and allow Him to ease our minds (1 Peter 5:7).

I want to be obedient. But this is a tall order. I’m battling with submitting and holding on to something over which I have no control. Sounds senseless to me as I type it. Why hang on to the anxiety? Why tighten my grip on something I can’t fix? Why not hand it over to the One who can do far more than we ask or even dream of asking?

I haven’t discussed my concerns with anyone. Why stir up anxiety in others? They can’t change anything. Besides, I may be worrying about nothing, right?

The best I can do is turn it over to God, trust Him, and do what I’m called to do. Write. Paint. Be a wife, mother, and grandmother. While I do those things, I’m not trying to fix, control, or figure out what’s going to happen next. I’m being obedient, which is the first and foremost important calling on my life.

I don’t have any answers today. I have to wait until my oncology appointment. In the meantime, I choose to live in today. I choose to display a cheerful attitude. I choose to have confidence in my Father who promised to hold me in the palm of His hand throughout this life.

I don’t know what the future holds. But I know who holds the future. I know He has a plan and a purpose for me. I know His purpose for me is to bring Him praise, honor, and glory in all things. And I know His plan is to give me opportunities to do that.

I cannot control the outcome of this disease. But I can control my level of submission. I can choose obedience. I can praise my Lord for His goodness, faithfulness, and grace in all circumstances.

How about you? What do you choose?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks

Setting and Meeting Goals

I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace. (Acts 20:24)

July 14, 2018 marked a major milestone for me. I completed the Ta-Ta Trot, a 5K walk for breast cancer awareness. Three and a half miles may not seem like much to many of you. But considering I had to use a shower chair to take a shower and a motorized cart to do my shopping for the first 4 months of the year, a three and half mile walk was huge.

Last year, I had to forgo the event because I had a chemo treatment a few days prior. At that moment I determined my family would not participate again without me. So in April, I began training. My first attempt got me to the top of the hill one block away from my house. Everyday, Gene and I walked a little farther. When I was too stubborn to admitted my own limitations, he gently urged me to turn back. He was always right about how much strength I had. I was always glad he insisted we headed for home.

Every week, I set a longer goal. Eventually, we were walking a mile, then a mile and a half. One day when Gene was at a men’s breakfast, I took our dog, Hunter, for a two-and-a-half-mile walk. I felt accomplished. My confidence soared. I could do it. I could.

With only a month to go, I still hadn’t passed the two-and-a-half-mile marker. No matter how hard I pushed myself, that was the extent of my strength. Doubts began to seep into my fortitude. But we kept trying.

The week before the 5-K, Gene and I went to a nearby park with a path and mile markers. We walked three miles that day. What a boost. At that point, I knew I could do it.

I can’t begin to tell you the overwhelming sense of accomplishment I felt when I walked the last leg of the Ta-Ta Trot. It was one of the biggest events in my life. Yet, there was no fanfare, no cheers, no awards. No one noticed, except my family who walked with me. In fact, we were almost the last ones to cross the finish line.

I know I’ll never be the first one to cross the finish line of any sort of a race. That has never been one of my goals.

But there is a race in which I will receive a crown. That has been and always will be my greatest goal—to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.

How about you? What have you completed that has given you a sense of accomplishment?

See you in a twinkling,
Brenda K. Hendricks