Day ???? (I'll figure it out later): Where is My breaking point?

Do you ever wonder where your breaking point lies?  I've been flirting with mine on and off lately as you've seen from my posts. I'm in a rough patch. I'm old enough to know that eventually it will pass, but young enough that it still entangles me; consumes me; grabs me by the throat and tries to rule me. My rough patch and me are like the devil and drama dancing the tango.  

The last two weeks of my life fit this hashtag: #youcannotmakethisstuffup. I'm living my own personal soap opera and even I am left stunned by the crap that stalks me. 

There are various reasons why. Number one: I DON'T LIKE TO RELENQUISH CONTROL. Number 2: I think I walked under too many ladders or crosses too many black cats or something. Lately stuff is just stupid. 

When you have cancer (or any other kind of tragedy, disease, problem) you instantly lose control over your life. Consequently, you try to retain tighter control over those things in life that you can. For an inherent control freak (I.e. ME), this presents problems. 

I'm sorry, but the whole "Let go and Let God" approach is like Mount Everest to me. It's my sin, I know it and I try to tackle it daily but when I lack control, I find myself slipping closer to my personal breaking point.  Plus, stupid things can make me a little crazier than normal as well. 

This week has been our move. I'm used to moving. My son and I counted up 15 moves in my 39 years this week as we talked about our newest adventure. I'm an old salt. A vagabond at heart. This life suits me, so don't think I'm complaining about my lot. But it doesn't make it easy. The process of moving is inherently exhausting mind, body and spirit. 

And my body is tired. It feels old and fails to respond with the vigor I know. In my heart, I know my cancer slows me down. And I resent it immensely. I have no place in which to focus my fury. No outlet for my angst. I am stuck in this short period of time that is called my move. I am trying to focus my energy on my children who are also struggling with yet another move. This will be the fifth in six and a half years. During all this, my husband is wrapping up school--all so we can leave earlier than planned for me to try and get the right treatment. It's the perfect storm.

And the storm began brewing when we decided to stick with our plans to go to SC for thanksgiving.  I over did it as usual and then to cap the cake with more frosting, we misses our connection by five minutes (it was still on the Tarmac waiting when we arrived) but they wouldn't let us on the plane. This les to a six hour layover and arriving home about 1 am the day our move started. On top of that, I came down with some nasty virus. 

At the prodding (well, really demanding, forcing, cajoling) of friends and family, I did what I truly HATE to do and have asked for help this week. I couldn't do it on my own. It was more than I could handle. I set up friends for dinner, coffee runs, companionship, and child care. And I asked our transportation/moving coordinator for ONE thing:

I played the cancer card--not in jest-- we simply said, "I have lymphoma. We need a smooth move to DC with as quick of a delivery of our household goods as can be so I can see my doctors and get treatment". (Treatment is the only thing on my mind these days--I want this crap out of my body fiercely).   The only thing I asked of them was to send me a good team, make it as stress free as possible, do a good job, and get my stuff to DC. 

Well, this is how it played out:

Day 1:  "Ma'am:  we will be there between 9-10 am". Ok. Good. This will work. Hour after hour passes.  Finally, at 1345, they show up with three people and work for 3.5 hours. Maybe 1/4 of my house is complete. No worries, they tell me that they will come back the next day between 9-10. 

Day 2: 10 am passes by...and then another hour and then another.  Finally, they show up at 1230. With two guys. Evidently, the third has been banned from entering a military installation. All day the lead packer is calling around looking for help. He wants this job done today. There is no way with two guys.  Around 2:30 pm, four more guys show up. Things pick up, but still not enough to finish packing. At one point, they are telling me how they aren't getting paid enough to come help "me" out on this extra job. It's everything I can do not to tell them that I've had to take two days of leave without pay to wait for them to come of the job they were contracted to do. They want to stay until 10 pm to try and finish the job. I am exhausted. My body hurts. My kid is falling a part. We tell them to come back the next day. You don't get to stay all night when you can't show up at the time agreed upon. 

Day 3:  they actually show up at 0940. I'm elated. But there are only two guys and the second guy has the flu. I give him medicine. Fluids. He goes to work. I keep being told they will be done by 1. This from the same guy that told me they would be done by 6 the previous day. No time management skills. When you show up for work four hours late two days in a row, there is no getting done early. I think we all hated each other at this point. Hours roll by. They finally finish packing around 1815. A lot of things were left undone. 

Day 4:  loading van day--"ma'am, we will be there before 9 am". Time passes. At 1040 the van shows up. It's 2/3rds full of other peoples stuff.  There is no room for all of my household goods. Plus, they spent a good hour taking things off and rearranging other peoples stuff that was just thrown in the truck. At 1100, I officially lose it. I spent half the morning yelling at people on the phone that said they would take care of this and make this an easy move because of my cancer. It's been the worst move ever (and remember, I've done this 7 times as an adult). They fill the first van. My stuff is scattered across my lawn in boxes and pieces. It's like looking at your life like a broken puzzle strewn across the ground. At 1630, a second van finally shows up to get the rest of my house. So instead of one move with one delivery date, I will now have two delivery dates and two unpack dates all around three huge doc appointments that wait for me at our destination. The sad thing was that our loading team was great. If they had a van that had fit our stuff, then they actually would have been done on time. Both our loading team and my family got screwed today. 

To the man that said he'd "take care of this and make sure I had nothing to worry about". Thanks. You did a bang up job.

Then our driving adventure ensued. Because the moving fiasco was not enough, I am driving one car and my husband is driving the truck pulling the boat we cannot get rid of.  I loath, LOATH driving. Three days, 20 hours were ahead of us. It was totally a bear down and get through it deal for me. So. I'm trucking a long on my end of the trip with the plan to meet my hubby at our first stop. 

He is four hours late...WTHEck????  The boat trailer broke. I kid you not. The wheel fell off the dang thing?  YGTBKM!!! Thankfully, my husband had the great wisdom not to informs of this until we were reunited. I don't handle that sort is this well. (Control remember?)

Then upon our arrival to DC, we are greated with a traffic jam. The number one reason I've resisted DC to date is the traffic. #countrygirl

This lengthened our 8 hour trip to 10. And I'm already pooped. Grumpy car has nothing on me at this point. 

And I hate these moments. They bring out the worst in me. I can't find my Christian charity. I can't find my patience. I can't find my kindness nor understanding. I'm tired. I'm sad. My family Is sad. We both love and hate to move. On the one hand a great adventure awaits, new friends are around the corner...on the other, we leave dear people that were and have been a lifeline not only during these last weeks of finding out about my cancer, but also during this move. I simply cannot thank them enough. And as we arrived at our new home, it was ready for us. Friends had left gifts and welcome notes and beer!:). And the house itself was everything the Tully family had promised

. 

(I'd like to end the post here, but I'm still irritated at my moving coordination so I will close with the below and say several prayers is forgiveness tonight.)

For the dude that promised to help, and then turned this into hell-- well the sinful side of me hopes you have a move just like this one in your future, and I'll hope and pray you have people by your side because today was awful, and the only thing that kept my toe from crossing the breaking point were the peeps I had by my side. 

 

Day 49: God Advertises in NEON SIGNS

Let me just put this out there if you haven't realized it yet:  I believe in God.  I believe that God is all around us, and I believe that God walks with us every step we take.

I've been going through a lot lately.  Digesting a cancer diagnosis is not quite as palatal as digesting a piece of chocolate cake.  But we still need to digest it and work through whatever has been thrown at us to conquer.  I've known theologically through all of this that God was with me.  I've known it in my heart, but at times my heart was so hurt and so angry and so disillusioned that all that negativity was keeping me from feeling the love of God during this time.

I think this is normal.  I think God understands that.  I think God knows that we are so fragile, so sensitive to our emotions that we need time to process and digest before we can realize that adversity can result in cheesecake even when it feels like a fallen souffle' (I may have food on the brain going into Thanksgiving)......I digress....

With that said, we are fragile and because we experience life through our senses, we need to feel, touch, hear, smell, taste and see God to sometimes believe that God is with us on our journey.  Sometimes it takes a looooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggg time for us to see those neon signs in front of our faces, but they are there.  Sometimes the hardest thing about faith is believe in God and knowing God is with us without those experiential senses tied to it.  Just because we cannot feel, touch, smell, taste or see God sometimes, doesn't mean that God is not there.  But then there are times, our sense are overwhelmed with God right there, right with us and the moment we need it most.  God comes to us through Grace.

I've said it once, I'll say it again:  I am far too flawed to understand the WHY THINGS HAPPEN in the world, but I believe in Grace.  Grace WILL prevail at sometime.  Grace Happens through People.  And I can show you an example of where I got to feel, touch, see, hear and taste Grace in action in my life.  God came to me through Grace.

Grace happened to me last week.  Grace showed up in my life like a big neon sign for a cupcake bakery.  Grace came to me frosted, with pink roses and sunshine and smiles and promises THAT EVERYTHING WAS GOING TO BE OK.

Grace rocks, people.

Grace came to me in the form of a letter.  You see, my husband and I are moving from Kansas to Virginia with the Army.  We've been holding off on my treatment (with the approval of my doctors) until we get to our new duty station.  We knew about this move before my cancer diagnosis.  In fact, we had put down the contract and earnest money on our new home the week before we found out the news.  In my gut, I knew (remember grace!  listen to your gut!) that we should move anyway and we would figure out how to do that around the cancer.

But the move was an added complication to an already complicated mess and it didn't help with the struggles with anxiety I continued to have.

But then this letter came.  This beautiful letter that had grace coming from it out of every sentence.  You see, the executors of the estate that we were buying the house from had found my blog.  And they had reached out to me from my blog email address (christwalk@courie.com) to send me a message.  You see, the previous owners of the house were a lot like me and Treb.  He was a retired military man--a WWII decorated veteran and his wife was a nurse like me.  They were a strong Christian family with deep ties to the area we are moving....and Gail told me in this letter that this house was meant to be ours.  SHE SAID MY CANCER WOULD BE HEALED BY THE LOVE IN THAT HOUSE (Ok, so that wasn't what she wrote, but the message I received!  God's grace sends messages!).  Gail has told me I can share the letter with you all so you too can see that GRACE HAPPENS.  Grace comes like an advertisement in Neon when you need it and I desperately needed this message from God that everything was going to be ok:

Hi Anna:                            

                              I understand you are the new owner of my late uncle's home, as our family fondly refers to the house on P Lane.  My cousin Don the executor of my Uncle John's estate, shared your Face Book page with me.  Wanting to know more I went to your blog page. I am touched deeply.                             

                              Since I have not met you I was not comfortable posting on the blog but I feel compelled to reach out to you.  I want you to know about the tremendous love and blessings and celebrations that were shared in your new home.  The home where you will rest your head, where you will return after your treatments for the cancer which has invaded your body, where you will recuperate and God willing, beat this beast, where you will raise your children, where you will nurture and strengthen your marriage, where you will seek and find the peace of Christ.                              

                              My dear Uncle John and Aunt Wini, my mom's only sister, showed me the true essence of Sacramental Marriage. Never have I witnessed a couple more devoted to one another or more in love.  Nothing was more important to either of them than their love for the Lord, their love for each other and the love they had for their children.  Their doors were always open to our large extended family as well as the hundreds of friends my cousins had.  Not only was their door open but their hearts as well.  Their love was so great that it could not be contained within their home but spilled over into the community and beyond, in service to the poor and the homeless, in the establishment of prayer groups to bring others closer to the heart of Jesus Christ, in ministry to the sick and home bound.  The list is long.                                    

                              I believe with all my heart and soul that God has a plan for each of us and that His plan is perfect.  Many times we can't comprehend this or see His light because of the darkness that we allow to overwhelm us.   But I am certain that it is no coincidence that my beloved Uncle John was called home a few months ago and that his family home was available just when you needed it.                             

                              So, Anna, know of my prayers for you and for your family.  May you find comfort knowing you now reside in a home that has been blessed in so many ways.  May you continue the legacy of love for the Lord, for your spouse, for your children and for the Kingdom which began so many years ago by John and Wini Tracy.    May God bless you and give you strength.     Paix, Gail.                                   

                              Senyè,

                              Mwen te tande yon nonm di "Mwen ba ou kè mwen."  Men maten an mwen santi ke mwen pa kapab ba ou sèlman kè m'.  Mwen ba ou tèt mwen tout antyè.

                              Lord, I heard a man say "I give you my heart."  But this morning I feel I cannot give only my heart.  I offer my whole self.

 

Even as I re-read my post, I am brought to tears.  God sent me a sign through another person that I desperately needed in the middle of this chaos and I (and my husband) were touched beyond measure.  God does send signs.  Yes, some are bigger and bolder than others, but I know if we open our hearts to these signs, we will see them and we will be comforted and brought peace. God never promised me a rose garden in my life, but he did say he would be there with me through it all.  When we love one another, we are sending God-signs to each other. And when I got this God-sign from Gail, my anxiety and fear abated.

 

I cannot thank her enough.

 

Paix!