I'm Melissa: June 2011

Monday, June 27, 2011

A day at the beach

The only thing better than being able to finally go to the playground after it's rained, stormed, and been down right too chilly for the end of June.....

is going to the playground and seeing it flooded.

Oh.yeah. We had sand. We had water. And that's a little piece of heaven right there.

ahhhhh......perfect.summer.day.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Cut out cookie Wednesday

Who's to say that cut out cookies are only for major holidays?

Because, personally we think they taste good every day of the year and stereotype cookies are whack.

Yeah....whack.

We hold NO predjudice in this house when it comes to what kind of cookies can be made and when.

If we want to cut out and decorate a pumpkin in June....then.we.will.
If we want to cut out an angel in June....then.we.will.
If we want to cut out a Christmas bell, or an autumn leaf, or a gingerbread looking man/boy...in June...then.we.will.

Don't have to be a holiday round here!

Because really....leaves are not just for autumn, they are currently on my trees, and angels are not just for Christmas, they are always in the Heavenly's, ...and well, pumpkins...okay maybe those don't exactly grow in the summer, but they are a type of squash and regular squash does....therefore, it shouldn't be confined to Fall.

Yeah.

I can find an everyday use for these poor misidentified stereotyped cookies.

I feel like if I was a really weird person I would go and protest the use of these cookies being confined to holidays. I would get a sign, and go stand outside some grocery store that is probably responsible for type casting cookies, and protest. And pass a petition around that said something very like, cookie equality worthy, or something.

Because people need to not let grocery stores, and stereotypes, and "it's the way it's always been" dictate whether they can make cut out cookies. Or any other dessert that they like to eat but don't because it's not a holiday!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

This wasn't part of my plan

I need to get some thoughts out right quick.....

I need more of Jesus, like, a lot more. I'm talking a lot lot lot more.
I am disappointed.
I am confused.
I feel like I am walking blind.
I thought I was done.
I thought I was on the exit ramp from this "land between".
Turns out I'm still in the "land between".
Starting to wonder how long am I gonna be here?
I need more faith.
I need to not worry about tomorrow, or two weeks from now.
I want to see God's hand in this.
I feel like we all (my family) paid our dues, sacrificed, and we should be done.
Wondering what went wrong?
I don't want to think about what's next.
I need more faith because actually having to walk by faith is a lot harder than just talking about it.
And having the kind of faith that can say to a mountain "move" and it will move. Yeah, I'd like some a that.
I feel like I've been doing this walking by faith thing a lot lately.
Nothing is impossible for God, and I need to say it until that truth is oozing from my pores.
I'm tired and need to rest in Him.
I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that He will never leave me or forsake me, I just wish I had more than a flashlight's view of Him in my life sometimes.
I thought the walls of Jericho were rubble at my feet, but apparently I'm still marching around the city.
I feel like I'm beating discouragement back with a stick and the only stick I have in my disposal is prayer.

uhhhhh...there's more floating around in there but I'll settle for getting the rest of it out later.

I went to my Endo Friday morning for my six week check up following my treatment.

And it didn't go exactly like I'd hoped.

Immediately she told me she suspects my levels are still high. She concluded that from the fact that my hands still had tremors in them, I have lost five pounds since my last apt. eight weeks ago, and my heart is still beating forcefully. All things that apparently shouldn't still be happening after radiation treatment.

And she was right. My blood work came back later that day revealing that the radiation didn't work exactly as we hoped. In fact, it looks like it barely worked it all. It only lowered my levels from 2.72 down to 2.61. I need to be down to 1.55 just to be at the very highest normal. Like, not even to be within normal range, just to be at the very top.

And it came down by one tenth.

One tenth.

One fa.lipp.'in tenth.

Now this would be really encouraging if there was like a nuclear fallout or something and I knew I had some freaky ability to withstand radiation. But, unfortunately, it kinda wasn't the plan for my thyroid to withstand it. It was kinda the plan for the radiation to kill it. And not only did it not kill it, it barely made a dent in it!

So now I have some freak of nature strong thyroid that is screaming, "screw you radiation, I ain't buckling over and dying. You're gonna have to cut me up and take me out if you want me to stop!"

Dang, when did I get such temperamental body parts?

Radioactive iodine treatment has a success rate of 75-100% being completely cured. Like, completely cured, thyroid killed, no longer functioning.

Oh really?

Wow, I'm so not even close to that.

I actually couldn't be father away from that if I tried. I'm not even close to being at the top of normal...let alone far below it.

Pesky little butterfly shaped tissue with a life like a cockroach! Errrr.

I am so disappointed and frustrated. Because, this was suppose to work. I mean, it works, it's highly successful. It works on practically everyone else, and for those it doesn't, well, I never expected to be one of them. I expected to be in the majority. And I can't even imagine how much more radiation they would have to give me to stop it a second time. If the dosage I received last time only brought it down by one tenth....well...I might as well get used to glowing and growing another set of arms because it seems to me like they're gonna have to give me A LOT more.

(I mean neon green is an okay color and all but I'd prefer to glow in hot pink if given a preference. And growing two extra pairs of mutant arms wouldn't be so bad, I would get a lot more work done.
But if the extra radiation makes my thyroid grow jazz hands and mock me while singing show tunes, then I'll draw the line and cut that freaky gland out myself. )

Anyways, all I know is that God has blown all my expectations way out the window and I'm left shaking my head wondering, "what.is.going.on?"

Yeah, I don't even know. It's just kinda beyond me at the moment. I've come to the end of myself, a-gain.

I go back in two weeks to test again, and I'm just praying that in that time God will supernaturally lay His hands on my thyroid and slow it down, since the radiation apparently couldn't do the trick. Because it's either that, or have a higher second dose of radiation or....surgery. Neither of which sound terribly appealing.

But even as I write that prayer, and actually pray that prayer for God's healing, I can't help but think to myself...."yeah, that would be nice, but I doubt it will happen that way." And I don't think that's the type of faith Jesus was talking about in Luke 7:50, 8:48, 17:6, 17:19, 18:42. And that's the kind of faith I want. The kind of faith that can say, "go plant yourself in the sea mulberry tree" and it does. The kind of faith that will believe Jesus IS gonna heal me. Not if, but IS. That kind. The kind that stands in the middle of a raging river and watches the water recede around my feet. The kind of faith that shouts forth in victory and praise and watches walls crumble down around me, without ever having to lay a hand on them. That kind. The mountain movin' storm stoppin' river receding kind of faith.

I get so blind to my own shortcomings with God. I thought my faith was pretty strong. Until I got knocked back down again and life didn't turn out exactly like I hoped and God was like, "uh huh, yeah, see that right there. We need to work on that. This thing you call faith needs a makeover cause it ain't lookin' so good."

Because it's one thing to pray. It's one thing to pray and specifically ask God for our heart's desires, and lay our specific unique requests at His throne. But it's another thing altogether to believe. To actually have faith that what you're praying for will be answered. I can pray specifically till I'm blue in the face...but if I don't think God will actually do it...well, where's the faith in that?

And that's the kind of faith I need. The kind that believes God can do the impossible. Not just sayin' that He can. But believing, having confidence, full trust, assurance, freedom from doubt, certainty.... that He CAN, that He WILL, and that He already HAS.

That's what I'm lookin' for. Now just to go get me some. :~)

(And maybe stop imagining that my body parts can talk, sing, dance, and put on a whole Broadway spectacle while mocking me with their Incredible Hulk super power capabilities.)

Friday, June 17, 2011

Impromptu long jump competition.

Last night we had a friendly little long jump competition down at the playground.

It all started after Marelly innocently asked me to jump over something.

And then out of no where I kinda got this spontaneous urge to relive my sixth grade glory days, and well, a competition resulted. And not because I was trying to prove I still had mad skills. I just only walked by Isaak, raised my eyebrows and gave him a look which he interpreted as "beat that"...and since it goes against his DNA to resist a challenge, we got a game on.

This is what proper long jump jumping technique looks like right there.

We're a tad competitive.

The whole family got in on it.

Isaak, who is not a 7th place long jumping champion like I am....failed to commit to a jump and hurt his ankle. Awwww, poor Isaak.

But long jumping athletes do not sit around and coddle their pain, so I made him suck it up and jump one last time....longest jump wins it.

In the end Isaak only beat me by one shoe length. And I think for someone who is 6', and someone like me who is 5'1'', there would have been a greater margin of separation than one shoe length....but, all I can say, is that my long buried days of sixth grade long jumping came back in full force. I found my self conjuring up skills I haven't used in twenty years.

And I may have technically lost and we may have only been playing for bragging rights, (which is enough for this crowd by the way) but this was only a warm up....next time, I'm bringing the heat.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Go sing your new songs chiquititas....

Off they go.

Off to embark on new adventures and make new memories.

And my heart is heavy...with a mixture of joy and sadness.

These ladies of mine have consumed nearly every memory of my last four years. And there are hardly words good enough to describe how much I am going to miss them. Because they were so much more than friends.

They were more. Much more.

And my heart will forever be indebted to the Lord for surrounding me with their lives.

But times marches on.

Especially in the military and even more especially with the Lord.

He leads us forward.

He calls us else where.

And all for His glory.

We have done virtually everything together these past few years. And stood by each other through darn near it all....birthday parties, backyard get togethers, service projects, sicknesses, deployments out the flippin' wazoo, family loss, hospital visits, crazy radiation, babies, goodbyes, girl nights...

and everything you can possibly fit in between.

And then in addition to all that jazz every Tuesday night like clockwork we would gather together and dig into God's word, seek, cry, laugh, stumble, stretch, give, and grow till it hurt and then come back again for more.

We know just about everything about each other.

We dug it all up and laid it all out there. And in the process I saw God do some mighty things in our lives. I saw firsthand God transforming these gals into new creations. ( I will never ever forget the night Kara told us at Village Inn she gave her life to the Lord, or seeing Liz open up the Bible to read it recreationally for the first times ever, and seeing Rachael thirsty for more of the Lord in her life) He tweaked, plucked, pruned and stripped us all bare, and we grew about as close as friends can get because of it.

(But you could bet when things got too serious for too long someone would crack a joke and we'd be peeing ourselves with laughter the next second. )

That was one thing you could always count on with us...laughing. Usually very.loud.laughing. Without a doubt we would be the loudest people wherever we would go. We sure knew how to own a room that's for sure. We just kinda took everything over....movie theaters, restaurants, entire amphitheaters...

And it was safe. We were safe together. There was never any reason to worry if your friends were dragging your name through the mud, or gonna criticize or ridicule you to your face. We would poke fun, yes, poke lots of fun really, but the intentions were never with malicious intent. Always innocent and good. Never to tear each other down. Our friendships were safe...secure...where you could come in and be yourself, your true self, warts and all, and know that you were loved unconditionally.

No matter what.

Friends like are a treasure, because they're hard to find.

So, in honor of the last 3+ years of more memories and goodness than I could ever fit into a post, in honor of friends who will forget their age with you, encourage and support you to no end, and all the adventures God has in store for your futures....let the good times roll....

"There's a little flame inside us all...