plan c

friday june 10th.  this day already feels like a strange one.  it is one of those days which had all kinds of plans penciled in.   plans which have changed - more than once.  if you looked on my calendar it would tell you today i was supposed to board a plane for guatemala. this was Plan A.  emily and i were joining with a medical mission's team from our church.  we had both been wanting to go on this particular journey for quite some time.   but then cancer came along and i found myself in the middle of a different mission.  my son, tyler, took my place.  i was thrilled to know he could.  he will be a wonderful asset to this team.  he is a kid who can contribute beautifully.  and my mother-heart feels calmer knowing my kids will have each other in this land foreign and far.  they left this morning.  all suitcases and smiles and eager spirit.  i wanted to grab them both close.  i did the best i could to hold them tightly, considering my present condition.  it wasn't tight enough, however,  for this mama.  my tears came after the car doors closed.  i will miss them.  but it is only a week, and i am filled with the thrill of what this week holds.  my oldest children going to a place full with need.  my children with open hands and open hearts and open eyes.   i cannot wait to see what God will pour into all this openness.  for surely He will.   this was His plan all along.  these two young teens to travel without parent, but with great enthusiasm for the things of God.  i wanted to be there to drink in and dig deep and capture it all with them.   i wanted to work, side by side, with my tall girl.  i longed for the chance to pull guatemalan children onto my lap and sing songs and tell stories and hug tight and smile into their sweet, brown faces.   i wanted to help them find shoes in a bin for their bare feet and food on a plate for their hungry tummies and comfort in a touch for their little hearts.    i wanted to hold hands with women and pray while they waited for medicine or a meal or, maybe even,  a miracle.  oh, how i wanted.  but plans have changed and i am home, still in pajamas, although almost noon.   i cannot kneel before a guatemalan child, but i can kneel, this week, before my God.  and i will. that i can do.


underneath my crossed out guatemala trip you will find another appointment on this friday,  june 10th.  this appointment read's oncologist 9:15 am.   Plan B for today was my first meeting with the oncologist, dr. ballard.  we had serious plans to discuss my oncotype dx results.  my post surgery treatment:  medication.  chemotherapy.  the next step.  whatever.  but this appointment also has a line drawn through it.   though we were expecting the results from the oncotype test to be back yesterday,  that didn't happen.  we found out there was a delay and we will not have the information until next tuesday.  it made no sense to go to an appointment without the results.  we could only make guesses about the treatment plan.  so my appointment was also cancelled and rescheduled.  i found myself disappointed again.  it's crazy:  i want these results and yet,  i don't want them.  if you've been following along in my blog,  you know this score will help decide if chemotherapy is necessary.  i'd like to avoid that discussion altogether, but know i cannot.  i cannot duck out of this one and so with that i am at the point of just wanting to know.  regardless of result, i have to move on mentally.  the waiting has been hard.  we've cleared more than a few hurdles.  but in my mind, the largest one still looms out ahead.  and now i am facing another weekend of waiting.  why does everything seem to come back to that word:  waiting.  it may very well be the entire theme of this almost two year old blog.  is that it Lord?  is that what you really want me to get? is this the lesson i can't seem to grasp completely?  considering how i am feeling this morning, i suppose it is.  my life has been marked by impatience....maybe even scarred a bit by it.


so those were my plans.  from a medical mission's trip to a medical oncologist appointment.  those are a couple of the things which i thought might be happening on this summer day.  instead, my younger children are off at a park with our babysitter and i am in a strangely quiet house.  a few minutes ago my mother-in-law, marilyn,  left me a phone message.  her words were so kind.  she said she was thinking of me and praying for me because she knew today would be bittersweet.  she is right.  her words were encouraging because she understands the pain of other plans.  she understood how mixed up and out of sorts i might feel on this Plan C kind of day.   this day with no real plan. 


i fear this post sounds like a pity party.  i sure hope not.  it wasn't my intention. i am just rambling from my Plan C heart.  the day is beautiful.  the children are gone.  the house is quiet.  i have a book and some sunshine and every need met.  i have children flying across the sky, this very minute, rushing headlong into an experience which will soften their hearts and grow their character and weed out their wants.  i have other, smaller children, healthy and playing wildly in a park.   i have cancer, but i have treatment.  i have a day, and that, alone, is a gift.   i have an impatient heart, but i have a God who hasn't given up on me. and most of all, i have a God, and my God has a plan.  

"for I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans
 to prosper you and not to harm you,
 plans to give you hope and a future." ~ jeremiah 29:11