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Day 51—A Letter from the Family

By Kristin Pue—February 20, 2014 7:14 p.m.

Since January, when we received Mom’s diagnosis, our lives have changed. We have been completely blessed by the outpouring of messages, prayers and love from our “village” or community. We want to take a quick moment to thank you for your support. Even just logging on to the website and seeing the nearly 20,000 visitors is so encouraging. Because this has been a difficult journey that we have embarked on, it’s almost unimaginable how we could ever do this without all of your love and support. Honestly, we have a hard time communicating just how much your support has meant to our mom and the rest of our family.

We as a family have always lived fast-paced, action-packed lives. We fit a lot into everyday life, and one of the things that we have noticed is that we no longer have the same capacity day to day that we used to have. It has become normal for all of us to experience exhaustion. Our time and energy are very precious to us right now. One thing that we are seeing in our mom is her desire to accomplish some important priorities each day. We are learning that in order for her to be able to accomplish these priorities each day we need to be better stewards with her time and energy. As her family we are doing everything that we can to help her make each day count.

One thing that we have noticed is our mom’s heart to connect with each and every person who has reached out to her in this time. However, the reality of her situation is that this simply is just not possible. We hope that you can help us remove a bit of pressure from her life by simply understanding that she may not be able to respond to all of her phone calls, text messages and emails as quickly as she normally would. I know for many of you this would go without saying, but we just want to say it on her behalf so that she knows you will understand.

We also understand that many of you would like to have some time with Mom, so we would like to set up a few guidelines to help steward our mom’s time so that she can use her energy doing what she both loves and needs to do, including time with family and friends, without having to worry about scheduling and appointments. So we are asking that you call Sharon Paterson to schedule an appropriate time. We also ask that you keep the visits to 20 minutes, so that she is able to thoroughly enjoy the time with you without feeling the stress of wanting to stay engaged when she doesn’t have the energy to do so. Thanks for understanding our circumstances and needs. Thank you again for loving and supporting her in so many beautiful ways.

We have also added grocery shopping to the planner section, as this is another way that help can be provided. Right now the grocery shopping has been added to Thursdays. Thank you!

Jason and Kristin

On behalf of Jeremy and Shari and Jon and Kirstie too!

Day 52—The Stranger in the Mirror

By Brenda Pue—February 21, 2014 9:56 p.m.

When I get up in the morning and look at myself in the mirror, a stranger looks back at me. While I sleep I forget everything that has happened these past weeks, and the stranger looking back at me reminds me that this cancer journey isn’t just a bad dream after all. So each day, the stark reality of my health looks me squarely in the eye. I need God more than I know.

There have been other times throughout my life when I’ve faced down a stranger in me. Mostly when I’ve seen things in myself that I didn’t like seeing. Things that made me uncomfortable with me. God has faithfully led me through those moments too.

So these days I wake up early. After my mirror moment, I need to reorient myself as God’s beloved daughter by reading the Bible, reading a few devotionals, and spending time in prayer (this is a long-time practice that has allowed me to climb outside of me to see myself and the world from a wiser perspective). This is one of the places where God meets me. There are many other meetings between us each day. I have no idea how I could manage this journey without my Father above.

At the end of every day, the person who looks back at me in the mirror isn’t a stranger anymore. I’ve come to terms with her throughout the day. I have a new perspective. I am filled with gratitude and blessing. There is so very much I am thankful for.

Day 53—Blessing of Friendships

By Brenda Pue—February 22, 2014 9:07 p.m.

Someone once said that friends double our joy and halve our sorrow. I have always felt that to be mostly true in my life. There is something so wonderful about sharing all of life with friends.

Carson and I have amazing friends. We love what friends bring to the table of life. Things like laughter, understanding, kindness, challenge, prayer, wisdom, adventure, caring and loyalty, just to name a few. Our lives are so rich because of friends whom we love and who love us. So I believe that adage to be, as I said, mostly true. Until recently, that is.

Since this year began, and my diagnosis, I’ve likely cried more over…with…because of…friends (and I include my family here) than anything else because I am so deeply blessed by friends. I feel more deeply than I have ever felt before about this treasure of friendship. And honestly, I’ve come unglued a few times over it. So I want to take a few moments to say thank you to all of you who have invested your lives [in] mine (and ours). Some of you, for 20 or 30 years or more. Some of you are Arrow friends, and we’ve gone deep. And others of you we haven’t known as long, but your impact and influence on our lives are profound. All of you have made a difference. You have brought much joy as you’ve journeyed with me (and us) in this storm. Thank you!

Day 54—One Percent Perspective

By Brenda Pue—February 23, 2014 6:26 p.m.

A highlight from today was attending our granddaughter’s baby dedication along with her parents, Jeremy and Shari. She is the first girl in our family. Need I say more? It was so wonderful to witness this precious one being dedicated to God. I’ve included a photo of four generations (Great Granny—my mom, Grammy—me, Mommy—Shari, and, of course, Ellie).

As I head into my lung biopsy tomorrow morning, I have lots of emotions and feelings. Earlier this week I mentioned that my earlier biopsies were inconclusive and so we made the decision to try one more time. One repercussion of this procedure is that I am not able to do anything for a period of time and [am] literally grounded until the lung heals fully. Knowing that fact caused me to pause when making the decision.

The motivation for moving forward with this decision has to do with the course of chemo treatment that is recommended. One chemo option is clearly better in terms of side effects than the other. Here is why. Only 10 percent of people with lung cancer are “never smokers.” I am a never smoker…well…except for a couple of puffs when I was in grade eight (it didn’t go well, and thus ended my short-lived smoking habit). I digress. Of those 10 percent, 40 percent have a mutated version of the cancer. If the cancer I have tests positive for a mutation, the chemo treatment is in pill form and has fewer side effects. If I am in the 60 percent category, the chemo treatment suggested is much more troubling. Most medical people pause long and hard over that treatment. It might be my vivid imagination, but it seemed that my oncologist wanted to avoid discussion when I asked her what she would do if she was in my place. She advised that we take it one step at a time. And that is why we made the decision to go with another biopsy, knowing that each test and procedure forces another decision.

I have been much in prayer this week as we head towards this procedure. It is my desire, in this, and always, to thoroughly discuss everything with my Father. As I pray, I am fully aware that my perspective represents a 1 percent perspective and that God has the other 99 percent. Therefore, I trust Him with the outcome of the results of this biopsy. He’s got this, in ways I may never fully understand. And so I step into tomorrow, and the days to follow, way more confident in God’s ability than in my own ability.

Day 55—Thankful

By Brenda Pue—February 24, 2014 8:19 p.m.

We left for the hospital early, due to the falling snow. “We” meaning my lovely entourage and me. Five of us in total. I think the hospital is catching on to me by now…I only come to appointments with my “village,” for the most part.

This was a CT-guided biopsy, which means every step of the procedure is monitored by a CT scan. I was awake for the biopsy, so after numerous scans for the setup, the doctor told me I could close my eyes for the actual biopsy. I said, “Why would I do that? I don’t want to miss anything!” He said, “You are one courageous woman. Most people really don’t like this sort of thing.” Just between us, I never said I liked it…but it is kind of interesting.

I’m thankful that he secured four different samples, instead of the usual three, to help ensure that there would be enough tissue for diagnosis.

I’m thankful that I didn’t have a partial pneumothorax (where a small portion of the lung collapses) like I did last time. I was able to leave an hour after the biopsy. Last time I was there for a few hours with regular X-rays to monitor progress.

I’m thankful for a great medical team today. My doctor was skilled and caring.

I’m thankful that I feel good physically and that the peace of God fills me.

I’m thankful for all the prayer and love that surrounds me. I have much to be thankful for.

I’m thankful that God is leading me every step of this journey. Here is the word from God for me today: “But as for me, how good it is it be near God! I have made the Sovereign LORD my shelter, and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you do” (Psalm 73:28 NLT).

Day 56—Paddling Quietly

By Brenda Pue—February 25, 2014 7:24 p.m.

A long-time and dear friend, who has also lived with cancer, gave me a little book of meditations and prayers recently called Facing the Storm. I want to share with you the following story that brings peace to my soul. Perhaps it will do the same for you.

It was cold down at the nature reserve. The sky was steel grey, clouds torn by an almost gale-force wind. It ripped through the trees, scattering the last leaves. The water was grey and ruffled. A great armada of Canadian geese was in the water. They all floated there, facing the storm.

Their environment had suddenly become hostile, threatening. They didn’t protest, or run for cover. They didn’t use up precious energy flying into it or fighting it. They faced into the wind, paddling quietly. They didn’t try to make headway, but paddled just enough to keep their direction and position in the water.

Maybe we can learn from the birds. Jesus thought so. They tell us of God’s concern, he said, and remind us that we achieve little by worrying.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going, says the cliché. I’m not sure that’s always the best way. We’re not all as aggressive as that suggests. Another way is just to face the storm, and keep position. Not scream and shout, not protest and ask what have I done to deserve this, but just hold onto faith and wait for the wind to blow itself out. It will, because the creator of the winds is stronger than the wind.

It may take time, but it works, and I don’t remember ever seeing a Canada goose with acute depression.5

Paddling quietly and trusting much,

Brenda

Day 57—Soul Friends

By Brenda Pue—February 26, 2014 8:11 p.m.

For about 17 years, I have been a part of a close-knit group of women. What first brought us together was our kids—who all needed prayer desperately. So way back when our kids were young, we met together and started praying (our husbands get air time as well).

I’m not sure which one of us suggested an annual retreat weekend, and we did that for some years. I’m pretty sure that I was the one who suggested a week-long retreat in a warm place! That would be something I would concoct. And it didn’t take much convincing of the other five. :) I’m not sure how many years we’ve been going away for week-long retreats together, but it is one of the most treasured weeks of my year. I only missed one year when a certain blond son’s car was hit and almost totalled by a young mom. I needed to stay home that year and fight (with mountains of paperwork) to keep that car for him. It was so important to him and seemed like the right decision at the time. Love that boy!

The focus of the week is prayer, rest, hearing from God, learning from each other and lots of laughter and joy in the midst. What a remarkable journey it has been for all of us…lowest lows and highest highs. And the best part has been watching God at work…not always when we wanted or how we thought it should happen. But God used it all to open us to His good plans for our families. Our journals are filled with stories of God’s surprises.

All our kids are grown now and have started having kids of their own. We continue to pray for all our kids, and now we have the joy of praying for the next generation.

Today my prayer group (minus two) brought lunch, and we did, once again, what we do best: share life, eat well and pray deep. It was wonderful. I wish that everyone had something like this in their lives. What a difference it makes. I am grateful for these ones who embraced me so many years ago and who suffer and hope with me now in this season of great need.

Day 58—A Pathway No One Knew

By Brenda Pue—February 27, 2014 10:53 p.m.

I was going through my medical file today. Just over one month of testing and diagnosis, etc., has generated a lot of paperwork for this girl. Paperwork is overwhelming to me at the best of times. I’m not a detail person, so it’s not my thing. In fact, my sweet friend Sharon (we also share two grandchildren), who is much better than I am at this sort of thing, was over today, helping me to strategize the management of household affairs. Usually, paperwork has little impact on me at an emotional level. But my medical paperwork has weightiness to it. I wasn’t able to get through it. I literally needed to walk away.

Then I remembered words that I read early this morning. The psalmist, recounting God’s greatness, says, “Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters—a pathway no one knew was there! You led your people along that road like a flock of sheep” (Psalm 77:19–20 NLT).

The original story about this historical event (found in Exodus) is awesome. I feel like my medical situation is like a personal version of the Israelites’ escape from Egypt, in that when they got to the end of the road, in a seemingly impossible scenario, God made a way, or road, through the Red Sea. No one but God could have come up with solution like that. I am reminded that the God I love found a pathway no one knew was there. I don’t know what my pathway is, but I know He is great at making paths for all of us. That is a great comfort for me, and I hope it is for you too.

Day 59—Coloured Tears

By Brenda Pue—February 28, 2014 6:55 p.m.

Friday night is family night. All 12 of us get together every Friday (this week Great Granny joined us) over a fantastic meal to get caught up with each other, to enjoy each other and to play with all the kids, and once the kids are bedded down for the night, the adults play a game together. Then we talk and pray together.

This week our whole family is in waiting mode. We are waiting for results from Monday’s lung biopsy, which usually [takes] two weeks. So we talked about this place of waiting. Some of us are glad for a season of lower intensity. Some are finding it to be emotionally hard work. Some of us are trying hard to live one day at a time.

Jon captured it well. He said, “Generally I feel peaceful and hopeful, but occasionally it’s really hard—often I feel exhausted.” We all still have our tearful moments. As we talked about the kind of tears we are experiencing from time to time, I found myself wishing we all had coloured tears…a different colour for every feeling. I think that God sees our tears that way. He knows exactly what kind of tears we cry. We don’t have to explain it to Him. He just knows.

It’s just good to be able to go deep with family. We closed our evening in prayer and offered all our emotions and tears to the One who knows us better than we know ourselves. It was the perfect end to a good day.

Today I came across the following quote that has much truth: “The art of living lies less in eliminating our troubles than in growing with them.”6

Day 60—It Feels Strange

By Brenda Pue—March 1, 2014 7:02 p.m.

Spring is just around the corner in our part of the world. Usually, at this time of year, I start making plans…all kinds of plans. Spring cleaning plans, gardening plans, repairing plans, travel plans, St. Patrick’s Day plans, Easter plans, etc. It’s always an exciting time of year for me.

I realized today, though, that I’m not making my usual plans. My focus is completely altered this year. All of my energy and focus, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, is headed in a different direction. I can honestly say this is a first for me. It feels so strange.

But God is calling me to something new. I now realize that He does this. As I read about great heroes of the faith, God always called them to new unknowns. It must’ve felt strange and frightening for them too. As I ponder why God does this, I believe it has lots to do with trust.