But I’m not an athlete
“Twinsies” isn’t something I’ve ever really been “all about.” Just ask my husband. Days when we both choose to wear the same t-shirt, I insist that he goes upstairs to change before we leave the house… that is if I got dressed first. If he beats me to it, I quickly change my shirt. What can I say, I’m pretty independent.
So when my friend Amy insisted that we wear the same t-shirt for our first 5K together, I instantly replied with a loud “no way.” It wasn’t enough that she was planning to run with me at my pace (albeit my post-hysterectomy/I’m just now running again pace) – but she wanted to wear the same shirt…. a bright yellow Fellowship of Christian Athletes shirt. I had no issue with representing FCA from a beliefs standpoint, however there was one small problem… I’m not an athlete.
But really … I’m not an athlete
Amy & Me at the Glow Run 5K in Kansas City
For weeks, Amy insisted that I wear the shirt and match her. And while I kept throwing out excuses like I hate dressing as twins (which is true), I continued to hesitate because of my fears of failure and judgement. I’m a slow runner, a 10-minute mile is a victory for me. So the fears of people laughing at a girl who’s “obviously not a runner” dressed in an FCA shirt flooded my mind. Despite my involvement in youth sports and freshman volleyball, I would never classify myself as someone who could properly represent the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Plus, I wanted the “I’ve had cancer/I’m slow/It’s good enough that I’m here” pass. I didn’t feel like wearing the shirt would let me off that easy.
Taking one for the team
Long story short, I finally caved. And I wore the shirt. And since that first race, I’ve worn it again. And I probably will wear it in the future. Because Amy’s persistent and gentle encouragement finally sunk in this past weekend. It’s not about being an athlete and wearing an FCA shirt. It’s about representing Christ while we run.
Why I run…
Friends from our church, The Avenue, running together!
Some of my favorite parts of the FCA Creed state:
We race to represent Christ, we’re not out there on our own strength, and that we compete for the pleasure of our Heavenly Father … for the reputation of the Holy Spirit.
I came to realize this past weekend that even running a 5K can be a testament of God in my life. Especially since I’m living proof that God is a healer… it’s because of Him that I’m physically able to run and have such a great Gospel community to run with. And while I can’t share my story or evangelize during the 3.1 miles (nor do I care to…), I’ve realized that I can represent Christ along the way. I can pray for my city as I run its streets. I can be kind and friendly to the other racers. And I can represent Christ in the sea of darkness … even if that means becoming a “twinsie” and sporting the FCA shirt.
-db
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More about FCA Endurance team (yes, you can sign up … even if you’re not a runner.)
“No” is not the issue
I tend to stay pretty busy. Well, that may be an understatement. Really busy. And even after typing that, I feel the guilt coming on. Those email forwards about BUSY = “Being Under Satan’s Yolk” did have an impact on me although I didn’t think I gave them much weight. Grrr. And just admitting that we stay really active already has me feeling bad.
This week I had a conversation that got me thinking about my schedule and my life pace in general. I think looking from the outside in, it might seem that we … or at least I … have an issue with saying “no.” And while at times that’s certainly at play, this week I realized there’s more to it than that. I don’t say “no” so much because I want to say “yes” so much. And fortunately … or unfortunately … I live with the reality that if I don’t say “yes” today … there might not be another shot tomorrow.
Live Like You were Dyin’
Talk about live as we were dying – I went up in the St. Louis Arch again.
As a writer, I’m not a big fan of clichés. But I don’t know any other way to put it – my cancer survivorship really does make me appreciate and live for today. As I’ve reflected on my conversation this week, I’ve realized all the different ways this plays out in my life … even down to my schedule. I do stay really busy. But I’ve also had some awesome life experiences thus far because I said “yes” to an opportunity, or sought out the opportunity because of a passion or curiosity.
Sure, sometimes it is time to say “no.” The reality of timing, finances, responsibilities and overall health (physical, mental and emotional) does not make me exempt from needing to learn that little word and practice it more. And I do use it often when we need a break or extra rest. But I guess as I continue to work out my survivorship and understand all of its implications, this is just part of it. “Live like you were dying” as the country singer says, is definitely part of my life.
More Birthdays?
I don’t make plans for my 50th birthday party. Or honestly, even my 40th. And it’s not because I don’t hope to have one, or even plan to have one. It’s because I don’t count on it. Regardless of if I see age 30, 40 or God-willing… even age 50 … I want to be glad I took the chances, experienced the opportunities and invested in the people along the way. If I do make it to 50 – that will be great. A big party will ensue. However, in the event I don’t make it to 50 – I want to embrace it the best that I can. If there’s ever a “no tomorrow” may I still be counting my blessings because today in itself was pretty great.
A Third-World View of Survivorship
Over the past several days, I’ve had the opportunity to get together with Taylor. While unknown to most of the world, those who’ve seen the documentary Rainbow Town know who I’m talking about. Taylor is one of the children featured in a film about a Liberian orphanage and is currently traveling around the United States. My friend Amy hosted him over the weekend and today he spoke at our church. As I’ve gotten involved with Rainbow Town, my heart’s grown for this amazing group of people in West Africa. Not only are they beautiful, courageous and strong. I’m convinced they’re some of the most faithful individuals on the planet.
Taylor hanging out with our life group from The Avenue Church!
Emotional roller coaster
I’ve experienced many emotions during the few interactions I’ve had with Taylor. I imagine this is common when you either travel to third-world countries or meet people from them. Guilt – I was born a “Westerner” and have “simple” privileges like cars and credit cards. Sadness – no child should have to live through war. Embarrassment – he must think we’re so lazy. (He walks 1 hr 45 min to school ONE WAY!) Excitement – his passion to be a pastor is contagious. Joy – God SAVED him! And most of all – humbled. Now that’s a survivor.
Defining Survivor
I am a survivor of cancer. And Taylor, he is a survivor of war. And while I certainly am not trying to liken our experiences – I do understand life-threatening situations that leave physical wounds, emotional scars and life-changing consequences. We both identify with the word “survive.”
What an honor to meet this guy!
The thing about Taylor though is that he doesn’t find his identity in survivorship. He’ll openly talk about being orphaned at birth and tied naked to a tree as a 4-year-old when rebels overtook his country; however, Taylor always ends with the point that God saved him. God had mercy on him and rescued him. No calls for pity. No room for tears. He shares his story to share about Jesus.
Finding Purpose in our Pain
Taylor’s story isn’t about Taylor – it’s about Christ. And that’s the way it should be. This teen has already found the purpose for his difficult life circumstances. He has no question about why he survived war, and what he’s to do now. And I’m rapidly taking notes.
I live in America where we process our feelings and talk about what happened. In the midst of it, we also get a “free pass” when it comes to our faith. We often aren’t pushed to lay down the pride and selfishness that can come with surviving something so awful. (After all – we do get a lot of attention and free t-shirts.) Instead, we can fall into the trap of self-pity and let ourselves off the hook. We think we’re acting like the Psalmist when we question God and blame him. However, for many of us – we can stay camped out at that place way too long, or never fully let God back into our hearts to do His work.
I’m thankful for the opportunity to have met Taylor. He’s showed me once again that there is purpose in survival that is far beyond ourselves. God works for our good and He loves us. No, life’s not always easy. And things aren’t going to be fair. But that doesn’t take away the fact that we are to fear Him and that He wants to use us. If we will just open up our hearts to Him, the journey through survival will make so much more sense… from any part of the world.
Is She Mixed?
We took a short trip to a nearby park tonight for a little jogging. Mike and I switched off watching Mae while the other one ran laps around the playground, trying not to inhale the fumes coming from the teens smoking pot in their car just a few feet away. Got to love city parks in the suburbs.
Anyway, I took my turn (yes, I’m back to jogging!) and then traded off with Mike. As I was watching Mae, there were four other kids on the playground, all siblings, and all mixed-race, playing alongside her. Their ages ranged from probably 9 to 4, and they were like any other kids: extremely friendly. After I busted out the bubbles, I suddenly wasn’t a complete stranger and began fielding questions like where I lived and what I ordered at Golden Corral. We were buddies.
As familiarly set in over a few minutes, the oldest sister, 8, point-blank asked me, “Why is she mixed?” I wrinkled my face for a second, amazed at such a blunt question. She then stared up and down at me, then looked across the field at Mike, and then narrowed her eyes back on me to show the origin of her question. “Why is she mixed?”
I suddenly realized she had 1) noticed Mae is biracial and 2) noticed Mike nor I are black. I casually explained we had adopted her, and after she needed more explanation, I told her that her birth mother was my color and that her birth father was dark… so that’s why she was mixed. That answer seemed to appease her.
She walked away as if it was nothing, but the conversation stuck with me. For over a year, we’ve been waiting for the questions and funny looks while we go out in public, but we’ve not received even one awkward glance. I don’t know if it’s because summer is coming and she’s getting darker or because her beautiful curly locks are staring to really fill in (or as I like to say, “fro out”) – but it’s becoming obvious that we are a family of two white parents and a mixed little girl. And I love it that the kids, so innocent and curious, are the ones bringing it up.
I couldn’t have ever imagined that the short trip to the park for a little jogging tonight would have become such a big day in our adoption story for me, but I cherish the questions I was asked by fellow mixed kids who noticed my daughter was “one of them.” I’m thankful for the strides that have been made to where we’ve not received rudeness at any level, but only openness and acceptance of our differences. And what I love the most is that I’m fielding the questions not from rude adults turning their noses up, but from an innocent, beautiful mixed little girl who sees someone else like her and speaks openly about it. Progress I’d say, progress indeed.
Why the Hunger Games Books are SO Good
I’ll go ahead and admit it, I was hesitant to jump on the train. For months, my friend Ditty insisted I read the Hunger Games trilogy. I fell in love with Water for Elephants, and then fell even deeper when I randomly ordered a book called The Help for entertainment during a family reunion. Hopelessly wanting another “amazing read,” Ditty suggested Hunger Games. But for some reason I didn’t bite right away. Maybe it’s that the title didn’t appeal to me. Or because it’s a trilogy. But I’m glad that finally after her insistence and then my bud Amy’s promptings (and loan of her book copies) I finally jumped on board.
Loving the Hunger Games
I’ve not yet met someone who read the Hunger Games books and didn’t like them. Sure, there are some critiques of the second book being too much like the first. And there are those who don’t enjoy the third as must as the first two. But overall, the Hunger Games is a hit. And I mean a Harry Potter-like hit. Plus … it’s comes without the conservative guilt trip that you’re reading something with wizards, vampires or “from the Devil” as some of the Potter and Twilight fans have been told.
What Makes the Hunger Games SO Good?
As a writer, I’m always looking for tips and tricks of what makes a certain book so great. Sometimes it’s simply the story that pulls on the heart-strings (The Help), but I believe other times there are some hidden gems housed between the lines of a best seller. So as I’ve reflected back on the Hunger Games books, watched many more fans jump on the bandwagon and anticipated the movie release, here are some observations about why I think the Hunger Games are SO popular.
1. The Book Is Extremely Readable
They taught me in PR school to write to a “7th grade level.” Thus, the blog world is my home. But I think there is something to say about readability. The Hunger Games are categorically young adult fiction. So are the Potter and Twilight series. Yet the audience of the books and the movies isn’t just young adults… it’s those in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s … and probably even older than that. The world is busy and stressful. Our lives are hectic. So having a great book that’s easy to read is a joy for many readers. Even if it’s technically written for a junior higher.
2. The Books are Fast Paced And Don’t Get Boring
One of the book reviews compliments the “pace” of the books. I have to agree. It’s a rather long and complicated story, however the author manages to write it at a pace where I don’t get bored. I don’t get overwhelmed with words or details. I want to know more. And yes, even after three books, I didn’t feel like the story was too long. Now that’s pure writer’s (and editor’s) genius if you ask me.
3. It Has Hot Guys & Hot Girls
No, the book doesn’t have pictures or photos, but it might as well have. The descriptions of the characters are so great that most walk away from reading the books with a visual of what they feel Katniss, Gale and Peeta look like. And they’re attractive kids. The book details character qualities AND physical qualities so well, I felt as though I was actually in the book and could “see” everything. And as a visual person in general, it was perfect. (I’m so far happy with the casting of the movie, the actors do look somewhat like what I had in mind!)
4. It’s A Good Mix of Future And the Real
The book has a great mix of current world and a “what if” future world to appeal to everyone. Although it may sound like it’s futuristic at first, it’s really a good read for anybody, even if you don’t like Sci-Fi. (Now I urge everyone to start watching tv show Fringe – same deal there too.) Once you meet the characters you get lost in the fact it’s set in the future. It tugs at our imaginations yet also grounds us in some reality.
5. It’s Got Some Romance, but It’s Not a Romance
Now, take this comment with a cup of tea. I happen to be the gal who skips over the rom-coms for the dramas and action flicks. However, I LOVE that this isn’t a romance book, yet has a great romance story in it. The book captures me with the action and dramatics of the story, yet the themes of a teenage romance run so thick it’s addicting. The romance draws us in, and is what keeps many readers captive throughout the story. However, it’s not so heavy and sappy that it gets old (or embarrassing that you’re following it.) The action happening around the “lovers” is actually often more interesting than the drama itself.
6. Everyone Wants a Hero
Just about any movie has a great hero, and the Hunger Games is not exempt. And yes, I happen to love that in this series, she is female. But really, she’s a great inspiration for anyone (and especially young girls) looking to find their place in the world and fight though “life’s not fair” situations. Katniss, the main character, is a fighter. She doesn’t give up. She’s beautiful and doesn’t know it. She’s got guys dropping at her feet. And yet all she can do is stick to her convictions, do what she’s good at and focus on surviving. Sounds like a girl I’d like to be friends with one day.
So that’s my take on the Hunger Games and some of the reasons the books are SO popular. Many books have some of these themes, but this series happens to have them ALL. That’s why I think it’s become such a best seller, and why I predict the box office will see the same results once it’s on the screen.
What do you think? Any other reasons that these books are SO wonderful?
Back Behind the Wheel
My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, fingers fitting right back into the comfortable grooves.
Although it was the fourth time I’d experienced a “no driving allowed” season, finally getting behind the wheel once again never grew old. A rush of freedom and empowerment swept over me. The options of paved paths to follow felt too numerous to count.
I started the car and the engine hummed. I slowly pulled out and headed down the road on my four-mile journey toward the video store for the important task of returning a rental. My trip was short. The scar running the length of my abdomen, still covered by steri strips, couldn’t take more than a few minutes in the driver’s seat.
Although the initial independence felt great, I couldn’t stop the thoughts creeping in about the previous two weeks. Emotions came and went as the cars driving next to me. I felt stunned that surgery had become a way of life. Sad at the loss of future life. Thankful for the removal of cancer threats. Grateful the surgery went so well. Expectant to return to “normal” soon. Lured by feelings of victimization. Tempted to shut down and lose the faith.
I arrived at my destination, dropped off the movie and headed back to the car. It was amazing how wiped out I was just by the small trek to the store. Or maybe it wasn’t the trek at all but the reflections behind the wheel. God always had a way of getting my attention and making me think while driving.
With just a few yards to go, I stopped at the last stoplight before home only to see a woman and a teenage boy standing at the corner to my right. The boy was tightly holding a walking stick which he tapped all around the corner while the woman stood behind him and talked firmly. He was blind and she was helping him navigate his way through downtown. And then it hit me.
I worship a God who once made a boy just like that see. However, the boy to my right would probably never experience that same miracle of sight told in the Bible. Not to mention the freedom and independence I had just regained of driving a car. However, he wasn’t letting the disappointment of a “miracle life” stop him. He had chosen to learn to walk around the city despite his circumstances, despite the fact he may never “see.”
As the light turned green I drove away and couldn’t get the image of the blind boy and his walking stick out of my mind. I realized I too needed to press on despite my less-than-ideal circumstances and flood of emotions. Sure, life had thrown me curve balls. Sure, things were hard. However, to experience the life God intended for me, I needed to follow the boy’s example and pick up my head, hold firm to my guide and trust that the small voice behind me will carry me through.
Throwing Up in Mesh Trashcans
…doesn’t really work all that well.
Thought I’d give the blog a quick update on my progress. Or should I say our roller coaster ride.
It’s pretty much the same story with each surgery I’ve had over the years – at least anytime my abdomen is opened up and then put back together again.
On Friday…
I came home! I felt pretty good, considering the whole surgery-a-few-days-ago thing.
Over the weekend…
I was off and on. Saturday I battled nausea and the “blahs,” Sunday I was feeling better again. Monday was good too, that is until last night.
Last night….
Ugh, roadblock again. As a semicolon, constipation isn’t something I’ve ever dealt with. I often have the complete opposite problem. So when the docs prescribed Vicodin for me, and I knew about its constipating effects, I still wasn’t concerned. After all, I usually can’t stop going. I welcomed the “break.”
That was until I began to notice nausea off and on all weekend, which I soon attributed to the fact I “couldn’t go.” So yesterday morning I took myself off the Vicodin and started up with the laxatives to try to get myself all flushed out. You know, since I know more than the docs and all. (and was humbled today when I saw how very wrong I was.)
Well, it didn’t go so well. I assumed the plumbing would just automatically start working once I opted-out of the pill. Wrong there. Then I thought taking several laxatives and stool softeners would immediately get it going. Wrong again – it actually created so much gas and pain that at one point I seriously thought I was going to explode. Actually I welcomed that thought. But, nonetheless that didn’t work. So I opted to chug some apple and prune juice last night.
And then threw it all up in a mesh trashcan around 1:30am this morning.
Note – will never do that again.
So, after a long night and trip to the doctor today, hopefully we’ve got a plan going again to try to get me on a better path. Because of the pain and puking from last night, I was pretty weak this morning – like can’t keep my eyes open weak. I’ve slept most of today and managed to keep down Gatorade and crackers today, so things are looking up. I’ve finally decided to follow doctors’ advice when it comes to medications and try to trust them – and do what they say. It’s hard when I feel like a “veteran” patient – I know what’s worked and not worked in the past, yet then again I’ve never had all my girlie parts out before, so I guess I better trust them on this one.
And I think I’ve managed to skip the “round two” hospital trip that I was guaranteed tomorrow if I threw up again today.
Praying tonight goes well.
There’s a quick update on the surgery recovery. Please keep praying that I get back up to speed in no time. I keep thinking that I’ll turn the corner any day now.
Home Sweet Home
Ahh it’s very very nice to type this with my feet reclined in my red chair-and-a-half recliner.
Thanks to all for the prayers an well wishes this week. They were definitely heard and felt! And thanks to Mike for guest blogging for me to keep you all up-to-date with the surgery. Luckily all went well and we had good news to report!
Many things to be thankful for after this week:
- Surgery went very well, no complications
- Little to no issues with scar tissue and adhesions!
- NO NODES even needed taken (in the cancer world, this is VERY GOOD.)
- My incision is healing very well
- Pain is under control thanks to fantastic prescription meds
So all is well. I’m not sure if this was in general an easier surgery, or if I’ve become used to having surgery, or a little bit of both. But, I’m very thankful to be typing this from home right now and praying that a few weeks of downtime go by quickly!
Thanks again!
Day 3
“Today is day 3,” Danielle mutters with a “everyone-should-know-that-it-is-the-worst” tone.
Fortunately she has been sleeping most of the afternoon. (Now, if you have any deductive reasoning skills you know where I’m going…)
Last night was rough. No food mixed with lots of pills, drugs, oxygen and a lack of IV for three hours lead to being up most of the night with a physically upset stomach. Anyone ever had surgery on their abdomen??? Your stomach and your abdomen are pretty much the same thing. Upset stomach = Upset abdomen…that was just operated on and is trying to heal = no good.
Oh, and did I mention the mishap of trying to move the IV and the nurses not being able to find a vein? This is what lead to going three hours without an IV. A nurse tries to stick it. Then a different nurse tries. Then they call someone. And that someone doesn’t show up for three hours.
That’s Day 3.
And that’s my rant. (Thank you for letting me get it off my chest).
Mike
Semicolon Stories 