In Need of Grace

“To be alive is to be broken. And to be broken is to stand in need of grace.”

– Brennan Manning

I am not one to read books by Christian authors that are published as “inspirational.” However, I just finished reading The Hardest Peace; Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life’s Hard by Kara Tippetts. I discovered Kara and her story in 2014. I’m not really sure how I found her or her blog, Mundane Faithfulness. What I do know is that I came across her story at a time of pain and struggle. Her words touched my heart. The short description of her book made me buy it to give to a friend.

I continue to follow Kara’s blog, though she left this world a few days after my friend Linda. I continue to be drawn to Kara’s words as her friend Blythe Hunt reposts Kara’s blog entries under Kara’s Collection. So recently I bought a copy of The Hardest Peace for myself. I do not want to make this a book review; rather it is reflective of how Kara’s words touched my heart.

Kara’s story is familiar to anyone who has gone through cancer treatment that included surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. And yet her story, like our own, is unique. While the book presents as Kara’s testimony I know first-hand what she, and those who cared for her, went through. There is a deep, ugly side to cancer treatment, and cancer death. Her chapter on losing her hair was deeply profound for me, because while she touched on the struggle there was so much that remained unsaid. I knew exactly what she really meant with her kind and gentle words. To be honest, my words would be much harsher. But I get it. I never thought of myself as prideful in my looks until I lost my hair. That was, and still is, the most devastating part of my cancer story.

I tell you this because Kara’s story has made me take a look at my life; my faith. I write about seeking grace. Now I know that grace met me on that table where I lay for my first biopsy. It was grace that was with me during my treatment. I discovered grace during my years of healing. And it is grace that I need as I continue to move forward.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Mundane Faithfulness

Back in October I came across Kara Tippetts and her book The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life’s Hard. I don’t remember how I found her, but I’m sure it was a connection to a connection among the on-line breast cancer family. You see, Kara was dying of breast cancer. She died a few days after Linda.

Kara has a website that is now being maintained by her friend Blythe Hunt. What I found in Kara was a grace that I know is difficult. Her posts spoke to me in a way that I haven’t been able to articulate. While she was dying I found that her messages were for me; the living who knows someone who is dying. In between the lines I knew Kara was struggling, and hurting both physically and emotionally. Yet her on-line presence spoke of seeking God’s face and finding grace every day.

As the New Year rolled around my husband subscribed me to a daily devotional that is delivered to my email inbox. Each morning I read the scripture presented and read the commentary of that day’s author. As the months have progressed I find myself pausing during my day and thinking about how God would want me to respond in the moment. I often fail. In fact, one day last week I completely lost it over an oversight and immediately regretted my reaction knowing that God’s grace was certainly not in that moment. (Fortunately, I stepped back and took a deep breath before proceeding).

During the Easter season I was reminded of Christ’s struggle of faith. It is recorded that he prayed “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” [Luke 22:42 ESV] just before being arrested. I, too, struggle with who I’ve been asked to be; what I’ve been asked to do. Those who have followed this blog from the beginning know the “why” behind The Reluctant Survivor. You also know that I’ve said “yes” to the Avon Walk; a physical challenge that this non-athlete is amazed to undertake each year. So I seek grace to be able to step up to the challenge.

Linda was a “yes,” and her journey was very different from Kara’s. Yet very much the same.

I don’t know what my next “yes” is, but for now I still have the Avon39 Walk. And as I seek grace I will strive to be faithful in the mundane.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

I Lost My Voice

Literally. I lost my voice. Last weekend I developed a cough. As the week progressed the cough has not gotten any better (though it hasn’t gotten worse) and by Friday I was losing my voice.

I have written only twice in this New Year. Over the past three weeks we have gotten a lot of snow here in northern Massachusetts. In fact, we have lost two work days a week over the past three weeks due to high volumes of snow and the need for snow removal. That’s more than a week’s worth of business days! During my days off I thought about writing. I even looked at my notes of inspiration thinking I would write about one of those topics that touched my heart at some point. But when I look at them I find no words.

I have agonized over losing my voice here. My friend Jodi has been writing every day. I love her creative writing and look forward to every new chapter. I read her daily entries over my morning coffee. I know my friend Seth  will encourage me with the words of Ecclesiastes; that everything has its season.

I’ve been reading Kara’s blog. Kara is in the truly final stages of her breast cancer. Once the decision to stop treatment is made it is only a matter of months or weeks. And in some cases days. My friend Linda chose to stop treatment while I was away on vacation. Much of what Kara and her guest bloggers write about speaks directly to how I am feeling about the imminent loss of my friend Linda. I wish I were so eloquent.

I am also reading my friend AnneMarie’s blog. AnneMarie has been writing about the truth behind the headlines. She is an advocate and a strong voice in the world of patient care. Her words paint a picture of the harsh reality that is breast cancer. Part of me wishes I could get angry and hate the pink ribbon, but I don’t. It has its place. What she and others write is also true and needs to be heard. It is the message that we truly need to share. Cancer kills. Breast cancer kills. Cancer is not pretty. Or sexy.

I think about how I have lost my literary voice and I realize that it is due to a breaking heart. With a cough and laryngitis I cannot even go visit for fear of infecting Linda. I think “maybe next week.” Linda has no sense of the passage of time these days, but I do. My visits are no longer for her. They are for me.

I can do nothing for Linda or her daughters. Tina and Kristen are now faced with the hard decisions about Linda’s final days of care. I want their days to be filled with the grace that Kara knows. I want to write about the truth of cancer. Others are doing just that.

I have lost my voice, so I will let others speak for me.

Blog references:

A Little Farm in the City

CHEMOBRAIN . . . In The Fog

Mundane Faithfulness

This and $2.50

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.

Intentional Love

I don’t remember how I found Kara’s blog. What caught my eye was the title of her book. The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life’s Hard.

I then found her Facebook page. Mundane Faithfulness.

Kara is dying. And she is dying with grace. She recently wrote a blog post about Intentional Love.

It was about her daughter’s deliberate gift. A friend of mine once told me that love is a verb. It is something that you “do.” I remember reading Eat, Pray, Love when I was undergoing chemotherapy treatments. Part of Elizabeth Gilbert’s message was not to ask “What can I do for you?” Rather, find out what someone needs, and do it.

That is the gift we can give someone in need; someone who is hurting. The gift of intentional love.

 

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor. And on Twitter @relucsurvivor.