Friday, December 14, 2007

The List


The List
By: Michelle (soon-to-be) Myers








Princess Michelle went about every day,
Making time to create, read, and play..
She had wonderful parents to guide her way,
Who promised her God would never lead her astray.
At a young age, her wise father asked her to obey:
“You need a prince, and for him, you must pray.”

And so for once, young Michelle did as she was told,
And imagined how the rest of her life would unfold.
She took out some paper and started a list,
Of qualities in that man who somewhere did exist.
After a few minutes of thought and debate,
She began to pray for her future mate.

“God, make him nice, funny, and sweet.
Make him really strong, except in racing; make him easy to beat.
Help him to love dogs, ice cream, and You.
Make his words kind, gentle, and true.”

Michelle got older and started junior high,
She never had a boyfriend, and her friends wondered why.
“They’re not him,” she told them, yet she couldn’t convince,
That waiting was worth it, to someday have her prince.
One day she sat down and examined her list,
And realized there were a few traits she had missed.

“God, make him smart, and anything but shy,
Have him know to just hold me if I start to cry.
From up there, can you see anyone who’s a lot like my dad?
You know what a great example of a Christian man I’ve had.”

Time went on, and Michelle began to date,
Even though something inside her still wanted to wait.
They weren’t quite frogs, but nothing more than a friend.
When it came to the list, none could contend.
As high school ended, Michelle again reached for pen,
It was time to add more to that list again.

“God, help him to respect me and all my dreams,
And you know me and sports; can we please like the same teams?
He doesn’t have to be rich, I know love can’t be bought,
And I know this is shallow…but can you please make him hot?

So college started, and new boys came around,
But the boy on her list, she never found.
She gave up on the dating scene and focused on her,
The next three years were quite a blur.

Michelle finally gave in and believed all the lies,
Her prince didn’t exist; they were all just guys.
She drifted further away from the girl she’d always been,
And decided life would be better if she was just thin.

She began to feel unlovable, ugly, and plain,
Her family begged her to eat and for her body to sustain,
But Michelle wouldn’t listen,
She knew being skinny would return her glisten.

Then one day, God opened her eyes,
And He assured her that her husband list was quite wise.
“Obey Me, and follow My plan,”
God said, “And in My time, you will meet your man.”

God’s voice continued to speak after her spiritual rebirth,
“Go to Southwestern Seminary, the one in Fort Worth.”
Michelle decided to take that leap of faith and commit,
She had learned with God, it was best to submit.
She opened her desk to begin packing her supplies,
And as she came across her list, she had a few things to revise.

“God, help him to forgive me for all that I’ve done,
Make his life passion be serving Your Son.
Bring him to me either at school or at church,
I’m so tired of games, and I don’t want to search.
Please don’t let him think any girls are prettier than me,
And I know I’m headed to Texas, but please make him from Tennessee!”

Three weeks later, while on her new job,
Michelle saw a boy that by seminary standards, was a slob.
In an LSU t-shirt, shorts, and a hat,
Her urge to look a third time, she had to combat.

He finally approached her, and he did it all wrong,
But in no time at all, she found where her prince had been all along.
A gorgeous athlete from west Tennessee,
Who chased Jesus alone, by his own decree.

Their first date, they both knew right then,
They were going to be married; they just didn’t know when.
Months later, out of curiosity’s sake,
Michelle pulled out her list to see if she’d made a mistake.

As she carefully read over it, a tear fell down her cheek,
How could she have found someone so unique?
He met every quality, exceeding every one,
Michelle suddenly realized, her list was almost done.

“God, thank You for giving me this man by my side.
Please give me all that I need to be his bride.
Help him to always challenge me and tell me when I’m wrong,
Help me to let my guard down and not try to be so strong.

Thank you for making him so genuine and real,
Being in his arms every time is surreal.
He’s not everything I asked for, he’s better and he’s more,
Life is sure to never be a bore.”

“God, even though he is gorgeous, that’s not what stands out,
I see how much he loves You and serves You so devout,
I’ve always wondered how I just knew,
That he was the one, I just knew it was true.
But now I see that when I look at him, I recognize the view,
Because each time I’m around him, it’s like I’m with You.”

So Michelle smiled to herself and completed her list,
And as folded it shut, the cover she kissed.
For the cover, once empty, now boldly proclaims,
“The Characteristics I Want in My Husband: James.”

For James
Christmas 2007
I love you.

For James
Merry Christmas, baby.
I love you.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Whatever It Takes, Lord


Challenge yourself today. Read through this statement first. After you've read it, decide if you can commit to it. Don't just read a bunch of words to God that you don't really mean. This is a big commitment, but if you read it, pray it, and DO IT, it will radically change your life.

Today I am stepping across the line. I'm tired of waffling, and I'm finished with wavering. I've made my choice; the verdict is in; and my decision is irrevocable. I'm going God's way. There's no turning back now!
I will live the rest of my life serving God's purposes with God's people on God's planet for God's glory. I will use my life to celebrate his presence, cultivate his character, participate in his family, demonstrate his love, and communicate his Word.
Since my past has been forgiven, and I have a purpose for living and a home awaiting in heaven, I refuse to waste any more time or energy on shallow living, petty thinking, trivial talking, thoughtless doing, useless regretting, hurtful resenting, or faithless worrying. Instead I will magnify God, grow to maturity, serve in ministry, and fulfill my mission in the membership of his family.
Because this life is preparation for the next, I will value worship over wealth, "we" over "me," character over comfort, service over status, and people over possessions, position, and pleasures. I know what matters most, and I'll give it all I've got. I'll do the best I can with what I have for Jesus Christ today.
I won't be captivated by culture, manipulated by critics, motivated by praise, frustrated by problems, debilitated by temptation, or intimidated by the devil. I'll keep running my race with my eyes on the goal, not the sidelines or those running by me. When times get tough, and I get tired, I won't back up, back off, back down, back out, or backslide. I'll just keep moving forward by God's grace. I'm Spirit-led, purpose-driven and mission-focused, so I cannot be bought, I will not be compromised, and I shall not quit until I finish the race.
I'm a trophy of God's amazing grace, so I will be gracious to everyone, grateful for everyday, and generous with everything that God entrusts to me.
To my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I say: However, whenever, wherever, and whatever you ask me to do, my answer in advance is yes! Wherever you lead and whatever the cost, I'm ready. Anytime. Anywhere. Anyway. Whatever it takes Lord; whatever it takes! I want to be used by you in such a way, that on that final day I'll hear you say, "Well done, thou good and faithful one. Come on in, and let the eternal party begin!”

-- Taken from Saddleback Church's Angel Stadium Declaration by Pastor Rick Warren, April 14, 2005--

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

My Personal Vow to God's Word



It's pretty rare to have a final that you're anxious to complete. However, I got an assignment in seminary that was cool enough to make it to the blog - without having to be edited. (A RARE occurance, I assure you!) But my professor assigned our class to write vows that describe our personal bond to Scripture. So, here you go :)

SCRIPTURE IS:

IMPARTIAL: (2 Timothy 4:3) First, I vow to take responsibility for the presuppositions that I bring to the text, acknowledging that my experience, background, and personal belief system will all effect how I will interpret Scripture. While presuppositions cannot be avoided, I vow to be self-critical enough to recognize that my own personal theories may not be accurate and dedicated enough to read Scripture as objectively as possible, remembering the warnings in Scripture of relying too heavily on my own desires rather than what His Word says.
INSPIRED: (2 Timothy 3:16) Second, I believe God has provided two main sources of revelation of who He is. He reveals Himself through His written Word in Scripture, and He best reveals Himself through the personal example of His Son, Jesus Christ, whom we come to know through the Word. Therefore, the Bible is irreplaceable as how God reveals Himself to the world.
INFINITE: (Psalm 119:160) Third, I regard Scripture as my final Word. The Bible is set apart from any other written manuscript because the text results from dual authorship; there is a human author and a divine author. Therefore, Scripture has authority not only as a historical account from an author who was present at the time, but Scripture exists as the holy Word of God. Therefore, I vow to always use Scripture as the ultimate authority.
INERRANT: (John 17:17) Fourth, I commit that His Word is truth. Therefore, I believe that Scripture contains no error, no discrepancy, and no confusion, but it is the complete and absolute truth.
INFALLIBLE: (Jeremiah 29:11) Fifth, I believe God has a plan and a purpose for each of His children who are seeking after Him. We seek Him by digging into His Word to learn more about Him. I vow to follow His Word, trusting that His teachings will never lead me astray.
INVARIABLE: (Isaiah 40:8) Sixth, I hold to the fact that God’s Word is timeless, making it as relevant to me today as it was when it was written thousands of years ago. Scripture can be applied across time and across cultures; it has no boundaries or limitations.
INDIVISIBLE: (John 10:35) Seventh, I vow to view Scripture in its whole entirely, not just picking and choosing verses I like to gather meaning. I commit to search for the common purpose within His Word to reconcile me to Him and grow spiritually.

In summary, I vow to respect His Word and remain in awe of His presence while daily meditating in His Word. I commit to pray for continued passion to hide His Word in my heart that I might not sin against Him. As I seek Him, I submit to Him in total faith to use His Word as a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path. (Psalm 119:11; 105)

Monday, December 10, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 7


My mom took the job, and she was amazing. No one would have ever known that she was pretty much making it up as she went. Other hospitals began inquiring who my mom was and what she was doing to get such great results. She was considered to be an expert in her field by many. She loved her job, and it was so much fun to see her be so happy.
She touched so many lives through the course of her illness, and her impact rolled over into her job at the Life Center. She continues to be an amazing encourager, listener, and motivator.
I’m grown now, and I’m getting married in just a few months. It won’t be long before I’ll be starting a family of my own.
I’ve learned a lot from my mom throughout the years, but if I had to limit myself to just one lesson I would want to take with me, it’s this:
Do you trust me? Yes.

*************************************************************************************

My mom has now been cancer free for ten years! Praise the Lord!

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 6

Life went on for the next few months, and it was pretty normal. I finished my first year of middle school, and Melody finished her first year of high school. Before we knew it, it was almost time for the New York trip and my mom’s surgery.
I argued with my parents everyday, and I begged for them to let me stay home with my mom. It was all wasted breath. However, a few weeks before the trip, my dad told me that he had arranged for us to leave New York early so we could be home the day after my mom’s surgery when she came home from the hospital.
The trip was incredible, and I had an amazing time. I saw the Statue of Liberty, stood between the two towers of the World Trade Center, shopped in Time Square, saw the Today Show Live, and saw Beauty and the Beast on Time Square. I wished for my mom to be there at almost every turn, but I knew that she really wanted me to be on this trip.
Whenever we prayed before a meal or before the choir sang, someone always voiced my mom’s name in their prayer, so I knew we were lifting her up the best way we could.
When we got back to the hotel every night, I would call my mom and excitedly tell her about my day. I took six rolls of film during the trip, and I told her I couldn’t wait to show her every detail.
The day of my mom’s surgery came, and my dad and I headed to the airport to fly home. My sister was pretty much a basketcase when we left, but it was for the best for her to stay with her friends and keep her mind off of everything that was going on at home.
I don’t remember much about the flight home. I just knew that it took us a lot longer to drive a 60 passenger van than it did to take a flight home!
My mom was well taken care of while we were gone. Friends from church had come by during the day to keep her company, and someone new brought her dinner every night. My mom admitted that she actually liked the peace, quiet, and rest before her surgery.
The surgery itself was picture perfect. The doctors went ahead and removed a few of her lymph nodes, just in case the cancer had spread. When they completed the biopsy of the additional tissue they removed, it was benign. The cancer had not spread at all. With one surgery, she was cancer free.
I felt guilty at first, especially around Katie, because my family’s situation turned out much better than the ending she and her family were dealt. Katie never seemed upset though. She was just glad my mom was okay.
About a week after my mom’s surgery, I hugged my mom carefully and said, “I’m so glad that’s over,” I said.
She smiled. “It’s not over, Michelle. God’s still going to use this. I just don’t think he’s done yet.”
I dismissed her words without another thought. In my mind, it was over, and I was happy about it!


Once again, my mom was right. About a month after her surgery when she returned to the hospital for a follow-up visit, one of her favorite doctors told her they needed to talk to her. At first, my mom was a little nervous, thinking that perhaps they hadn’t gotten it all after all.
However, it turned out that the doctor wanted to talk to her about becoming the manager of the Baptist Cancer Institute Life Center associated with the hospital. This was a new education center they were trying to start, giving cancer patients and their families a place to go for support, encouragement, and information. The doctors were so impressed with the way my mom handled herself throughout her own battle with the disease, they knew she was the perfect fit for the job.
Even though she didn’t have any business experience. Even though she had never been a manager of anything. Even though she didn’t have a medical background. Even though all she had ever done in her adult life was teach music to elementary school students.
On paper, she was anything but qualified. Through building a relationship with her, though, the board of directors at the hospital didn’t want anyone else for the position. God really was up to something.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 5

I began to feel proud as I watched my mom. She was very fortunate not to have to have any chemotherapy or radiation. In fact, most people who were around us at the grocery store or at the mall would not have any way to know that my mom was fighting a deadly illness.
Still, I knew some days were harder on her than others. Together, she and my dad had decided that she would go ahead and have a mastectomy, just to make sure that they got rid of all of the cancerous tissue. She was not too prideful to admit that this was a hard decision since women are always a little self-conscious of our bodies anyway. And she did get tired more often. She used to go like the Energizer Bunny, but now, she had to limit her activity.
One of my mom’s doctors called cancer “the disease of nice people.” He said that while they were some obvious exceptions, most cancer patients he dealt with were all previously sick with the “yes disease.” They’re the room mom for both of their kid’s classrooms. They cook dinner every night and keep the house tidy. They stay up late helping one child finish their homework and get up early the next morning to make cupcakes for their husband’s office. They volunteer to hand out water bottles at the charity 5K races…and the list continues. That description completely fit my mom.
That doctor told my mom that if she allowed herself to be over-committed while she had cancer that she didn’t value her live or her family’s lives. That got her attention, and my mom definitely slowed her pace down.
Every once in a while, it was nice to come home and see my mom sitting on the couch with my dad. Even though I knew it was because of doctor’s orders, I had never really paid attention to how much my mom did for everyone else and how she always did without. She never complained about it once.
The doctors were thrilled with her progress, and they all looked forward to her visits. They talked about how much fun she was to treat because she was always so appreciative and so inquisitive. My mom wanted to learn everything she could about the illness, the healing process, and anything else she could absorb from their knowledge.
I hadn’t allowed one negative thought to cross my mind since that day in my dad’s office at church. I didn’t avoid people at church. In fact, following the example of my mom, I looked for times when I could encourage someone who was hurting.
In April, they scheduled my mom’s surgery. The only convenient time for everyone was the same week that our whole family was supposed to be on a choir mission trip with the church in New York City. I had dreamed of going to New York my whole life, so I was immediately crushed at my dream trip being canceled. I didn’t want to be selfish though, so I refused to act upset.
Later that day, as I was helping my mom cook dinner, she asked, “What musical do you think your dad will get you all tickets to see?”
I looked up. “Huh?” I asked. “When?”
“In New York,” my mom said. “On Broadway.”
I tried not to show my disappointment. “Oh, I don’t know what they’ll go see. I’m sure whatever he picks will be great.”
My mom looked confused. “What they’ll go see? You’re going to be there, sweetie.”
I shook my head. “No way. You’re getting surgery that week. There’s no way I’m going. I mean, I know dad has to go because he’s leading the trip. And Melody’s in the choir, so she needs to be there too. But I’m staying with you.”
My mom stopped what she was doing and grabbed both of my hands. “Michelle, I’m going to be fine. I want you to go to New York. You’ve been talking about this trip for months.”
“New York’s always going to be there, Mom,” I argued. “I can go another time. I want to be here with you.”
My mom leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull the Mom card,” she said, casually.
I rolled my eyes, playfully. I always accuse my mom of playing the “Mom” card to get what she wants sometimes. It basically means she’s the mom, and I’m the child. What she says goes, and I can just deal with it. “This is no time for the Mom card,” I said. “You know how stubborn I am, and I refuse to leave you at home by yourself that week.”
“Well, you had to get all of that stubbornness from someone, didn’t you?” my mom grinned. “And you’re going on that trip, Michelle. End of story.”
“We’ll see,” I said, and I returned back to stirring the vegetables on the stove. “I’ll ask Dad what he thinks when he gets home.”

Friday, December 7, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 4

“Melody! Michelle! It’s time to leave!” my mom’s chipper voice rang throughout the house. “Come on, you know your dad doesn’t like it when we’re late to church!”
I took one final look in the mirror before I bounded down the stairs. Melody was right behind me.
“Did you eat breakfast?” my mom asked. “I made those muffins you like yesterday, and there are still some left.”
“I already got one,” I said. My voice was monotone.
“Are you okay this morning, sweetie?” my mom asked. She smiled. “It’s beautiful outside.”
How can she be so happy? Doesn’t she know she’s dying? Doesn’t she know that she’s going to leave me to grow up without a mom?
Every day wasn’t always like this. Sometimes, I could go throughout my day as normal and only think about my mom’s cancer when I prayed for her. Other days were harder. Church days seemed the hardest. Everyone at church wanted to hug me, to tell me that everything was going to be fine, and to tell me that they were praying for me and that God was in control of this situation.
Sure, God’s in control. That’s easy for them to say.
We got into the car, and my mom started sharing with us what her Sunday School lesson was over. When she finished, she simply said, “Isn’t God amazing? I mean, no matter what I’m going through, the lesson always seems to be exactly what I need to hear.”
How does she have that much faith? I just didn’t get it. She had been to the same funerals that I had. She knew what this disease was capable of.
At church, I tried to avoid the right people – pretty much everyone forty and older, my family’s closest friends, and all of the church staff. My friends knew I didn’t like to talk about it, and they were pretty good distractions.
I was leaving the sanctuary when I heard a little voice behind me. “Hey Chelle!” I turned around to see Taylor Few, the seven-year-old grandson of Mrs. Carol, bounding down the stairs of the balcony. Taylor ran up and hugged me. “We’ve been praying for your family at dinner,” he told me. He looked proud of himself.
“Thanks, Tay,” I said. “We’re still keeping your family in our prayers too. How is everyone?”
“Papaw gets pretty sad sometimes. And I do too. But then I just think about how much fun she has to be having in heaven, you know?” Taylor was swinging on the railing of the stairs leading to the balcony. “She wasn’t having fun down here anymore, but I bet she’s happy now.”
I wanted his innocence. I wished I had faith like his. I just knew too many facts. I didn’t know how to reply to Taylor, so I was relieved when he opened his mouth again. “Do you think she’s watching me all the time?”
I laughed a little to prevent myself from crying. “I bet she is. And I think right now, she would probably want you to stop swinging on the railing so you don’t fall and hurt yourself.”
He smiled at me and placed both feet on the ground. “I bet you’re right.” He looked up and said, “Sorry, Nana.” With that, he took off running to his parents on the other side of the room. I saw Todd and Cindy start to walk towards me, so I waved at them and then walked out the door before they could get too close to start a conversation.
As soon as I walked out the door, I was greeted by two ladies I didn’t know. This wasn’t unusual. In a church the size of mine, it was easy for people to know me since my dad was on staff while I had no clue who they were. I tried to smile and walk on politely, but one of them grabbed me by the arm.
“You know, your mother is amazing,” she said. “Absolutely amazing,”
Just what I want to hear.
I smiled, weakly. “Thanks. I think so,” I said.
“She just has this joy in her that is so contagious. I feel better just being around her,” she went on.
The woman next to her nodded in agreement. “I know. I just think about how I would react if I had cancer. I would be bitter, angry, confused, and hurt. Your mom is just so poised and so positive. It’s really inspiring.”
Hmm. Bitter. Angry. Confused. Hurt. That sounds about right. That sounds pretty normal.
“Just tell her that we love her,” the first woman added. “And we’re praying for a speedy recovery.”
I thanked them for their kind words, and quickly ducked into my dad’s office. Safe at last.
My dad was sitting at his desk, shuffling some music around. “Hi, kiddo,” he greeted me when he looked up.
”Hey,” I said, slumping into one of the meeting chairs.
“How was your Sunday School class this morning?” he asked, putting down the papers he was looking over.
I shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. We prayed for Mom.”
“Prayer is always a good thing,” my dad said. “You can never have too much of it. In fact, its times like these that can really bring us to our knees. I’ve prayed more for our family over the past few weeks than I have in my life. I’m just sad that it took your mom getting sick for me to start praying like I should have been all along.
Great. Not him too! Didn’t anyone understand why I was so scared?
My dad noticed my silence and said, “You’re not mad at God for this, are you?”
That was all I needed. “Of course I’m mad!” I admitted, folding my arms across my chest. “Why aren’t you?”
“I don’t see how being mad about this is going to help your mom get any better,” my dad said, reasonably. “The doctors think her cancer is going to be completely curable with just one surgery, and she has some of the best doctors in the country. She gets tired pretty easy, but all in all, your mom feels pretty normal. Considering the circumstances, we’re pretty blessed,” he said, coming over to sit in the chair next to me.
He was right. I knew he was right. He was always right. If it didn’t come in handy so often, I would be annoyed at how right he was.
“Why don’t you just try to be positive with us, okay?” he suggested. “Did you know that there’s actually been research done that shows having a positive mental attitude throughout cancer has a better survival rate?”
I perked up. “Really?”
“Really,” my dad smiled at me, revealing the one dimple on his right cheek. “Come on, complete me,” he said.
I laughed. I have one dimple on my left cheek, so I’ve always told my dad that my smile completes his.
“Atta girl,” he said. “Let’s get home and make some lunch for Mom and Melody. What do you think?”
I hugged my dad, and we headed for the door. I walked out of church feeling better than I had in a while.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 3

The next few days were pretty rough. I am normally a daddy’s girl, but I avoided him whenever possible. I can’t lie to my dad, so it was just better for me to not be around him. As for my sister, I knew how to get her to leave me alone. I just had to hurt her feelings a few times, and she wouldn’t open her mouth around me. I don’t remember what I said, but I do remember the hurt look on her face. She waited for me to apologize, but I never said a word.
God didn’t ask me again if I trusted Him. If He did, I wasn’t listening. And as for my mom, she would give me a sympathetic smile whenever we crossed paths. Sometimes, she would just reach forward and hug me. I never pushed her away, but I never welcomed her embrace either. It was too painful.
Thursday night, we sat down to eat dinner as a family. This wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but something was different, and everyone knew it. As we silently poured drinks and passed food around the table, I knew what was coming.
Finally, my dad broke the silence. He looked tired, but he still had a smile on his face. “Girls, we need to talk to you about something.”
My eyes filled up with tears. Don’t say it, I thought.
“Your mom had a doctor’s appointment earlier this week, and she’s gotten back some news today. Your mom has breast cancer,” my dad said, swallowing to hold back his emotions.
Melody’s hands flew over her mouth, and she burst into tears. “What?” she asked. “Why? How?”
My dad held up one hand, as he saw my mom beginning to tear up as well. “Now, here’s the good news. Her doctor said she’s discovered it in the very early stages, and it’s completely treatable. There are a few options with treatments and surgeries, so we’ll be looking into that over the next few days.”
My mom smiled at us, “Girls, God is going to use this. I’m going to be okay,” she said. “So you girls just keep your chin up, okay?”
I nodded, still not looking at anyone at the table. How could you do this to us, God? My dad’s a minister. My mom teaches Sunday School. I won state in Bible Drill for six years in a row. And Melody even goes to a Christian school! This shouldn’t be happening. Not to us.
Melody continued sobbing, and my mom reached over to rub her arm softly as she cried. “Melody, please don’t cry,” my mom pleaded, trying to console my sister. She looked up at me, and we locked eyes. “Michelle,” she said, trailing off. I looked away.
My dad continued. “What we need from you girls is to keep your bickering to a minimum. The doctor explained to us how stress can impact cancer negatively, and you know how it upsets your mom when you girls fight. Can you do that for us?”
Melody and I looked at each other and nodded. In that moment, I knew Melody forgave me. Somehow, she just understood.
My mom changed the subject, and asked Melody about school. They carried on small talk, while I stayed pretty quiet. I pushed the food around on my plate with my fork to make it look like I was eating, but I didn’t have an appetite. After about twenty minutes, I excused myself to go take a bath.
I remember how I thought the running water would mask the noise of my tears, and I cried again for what seemed like the hundredth time in a row. As I got out of the shower, Melody called to me from her room. “After you get dressed for bed, come in here, okay?”
Ten minutes later, I walked into my sister’s room. She was curled up on her bed, snuggled into covers and holding her giant Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal for comfort. When I got close to her, I saw that she was crying.
“Did you really know the whole time?” she asked me.
I nodded. “I was with her when she found it,” I said quietly.
“Is that why you’ve been so mean the past couple of days?” she asked.
I nodded again. “Sorry,” I managed to say. I felt tears trying to well up in my eyes again, but I must have used all the ones I had already because no tears ever fell.
“Do you want to sleep in here tonight?” she asked, opening up the covers on the other side of her bed.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I do.” And with that, I crawled into bed next to my sister and fell asleep to the sound of her sniffles.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 2

Three weeks later, my mom and I walked back into the house from Carol’s funeral. Carol Few was an older lady in my church who had been like a grandmother to Melody and me. She had never been sick, and then, all of the sudden…ovarian cancer. Again.
I hated cancer – the disease, the word, everything. It ended lives and devastated families, and it did it quickly.
“Go ahead and change your clothes,” my mom said, as we headed up the stairs. “Put on something comfortable, and we can put a movie on while I finish ironing your dad’s shirts for the week.”
My eyes lit up. I still hadn’t practiced piano for the day, and my mom so rarely let me skip days. Before she could change her mind, I darted to my room and changed into my t-shirt and Nike pants as fast as I could.
I went to my bathroom and put my hair in a ponytail. As I ran the brush through my hair, I heard the voice again. Michelle, do you trust Me?
Frustrated, I dropped the brush on the counter, and the clang of the metal hitting the marble surface echoed. God, why do You keep asking me that? You know that I trust You!
This time, there was no reply. If there was, I didn’t hear it because I was interrupted by my mom’s voice. “Michelle?” she called from her bedroom. “Are you okay?”
I flipped the light switch on the bathroom, thankful for an interruption. I darted down the familiar hallway of the upstairs and made a flying leap onto my parents’ bed as I had done a million times before. “I’m fine, Mom. I just….” my voice trailed off.
My mom was standing in her closet, half dressed, and her face was as white as a ghost. She put her hand over a chest and shut her eyes, as if she was struggling to breathe.
“Mommy?” I asked, sitting up to move towards her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head and turned around to face her clothes.
“Mom,” I said again, with a firmer tone. “What is it?”
She tuned around to face me, and I saw there were tears in her eyes. “There is a lump on my breast.”
My heart literally sank. I felt it drop. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream. Instead, I simply said, “What?” in utter disbelief.
“I have a lump on my breast,” my mom repeated. “I felt it when I was changing my shirt.”
At that moment, I buried my face in my mom’s pillow. No, God, no. Not me. Not my mom. Not my family.
My mom came to sit down on the bed next to me, and I leaned onto her. She either let me cry for a minute, or she was silent, trying to gather her own composure.
She pulled me away from her. “Michelle, look at me,” she said.
Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. At the sight of my mom, I immediately had to look away. I couldn’t handle seeing her right now.
“It’s going to be fine,” she told me. “I’m going to be okay. In fact, it’s probably nothing. I’ll just go to the doctor to get everything checked out just to be safe, and then, everything will go back to normal.”
“Normal,” I repeated. “Yeah.” I still couldn’t look at her.
“I’ll call first thing on Monday morning,” my mom promised. “But Michelle…” she paused. “Michelle, look at me for a minute, okay?”
I looked up, my eyes once again swelling with tears. “Don’t tell your Dad about this, okay? Or Melody. I don’t want them to worry about this unless…I just don’t want them to worry about it, okay? Promise me.”
I nodded, taking the chance to look away again.
“Michelle, promise me. You have to.”
“I promise,” I finally whispered.
“Good,” she said, forcing a smile and cheerfulness into her tone. “Now, go wash your face, and then let’s get the movie night started.”
Lifeless, I trailed to the bathroom and splashed water on my face.
Do you trust me?
I became angry, and I lowered my face to the sink, hoping the rushing water from the faucet would prevent the flow of tear from my eyes.
Do I trust You? The One who took away Katie’s mom? The One who made Mr. Few cry today?
For the first time in my life, I had a different answer. I don’t know if I trust You anymore, God. And if You take my mom from me, I definitely don’t know if I can trust You.
I gathered my composure and went downstairs. My mom was already down there, and I saw one of our favorite chick flicks was already playing on the TV. The ironing board was nowhere in sight, and I didn’t say anything. Silently, I curled up next to my mom on the couch, wrapped both of my arms around her arm, and rested my head on her shoulder. My eyes never left the TV screen, but I didn’t pay attention to the movie at all.
As I sat there, I silently prayed, Please, God. Don’t take my mom. I’m not ready. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t take my Mommy away from me. Please.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Do You Trust Me? Part 1

This is a true story of my life - an account of how God used my mom being diagnosed with cancer to positively impact my whole family. He gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!


I folded my arms across my chest as we pulled out of Katie’s driveway. How could a house that used to be so full of love feel so empty? What kind of a friend was I that my best friend was hurting, and I had no words to comfort her?
My mom patted my leg with her hand before she put both hands on the steering wheel. “She’s going to be okay, Michelle.”
I nodded, fighting back tears. I knew that if I tried to speak, I was going to cry again. There had been enough crying lately.
About a year ago, Katie’s mom had been diagnosed with melanoma, a type of cancer with a low-survival rate. This was her second battle with the disease, but the outcome was different this time. She didn’t win this round.
Over the past three years, Katie had become a part of my family, and likewise, I became a part of hers. Weekends were spent at one of our two houses, and we even argued with one another’s siblings.
The past year had been tough. We spent a lot more time at my house than we spent with her family. Her mom spent a lot of time either in bed or in the hospital, and we never wanted to disturb her. Katie didn’t talk about it much. She tried to pretend like it wasn’t really happening. I wanted to be there for her, but I didn’t want to upset her either. I knew we would have to talk about it eventually. As ready as I thought I was, I was completely unprepared in the moment.
She’s only twelve, God. How is she supposed to make it through high school without a mom? Now she only has a dad and a big brother. Who will help her decide what outfit to wear on her first date? Who’s going to understand why it’s necessary to have a closet simply devoted to shoes?
That morning, Katie’s dad, Bob, called my mom, to let our family know that Katie’s mom had died in the middle of the night. I cried for hours after my parents sat me down to tell me the news. I wanted to call her, but I didn’t know what to say.
As I cried, my mom worked in the kitchen, preparing dinner for Katie’s family. When it was ready, she tapped on my door to see if I wanted to go with her to drop off the meal. I didn’t really want to, but I nodded in agreement anyway.
I didn’t say much in the car. Was it fair that I was coming to her house with my mom? Katie didn’t have one. I couldn’t imagine being in her position. Seriously, what would I do without my mom? I mean, my dad is great, but he wouldn’t be the same man without my mom either. Everything would change.
I could feel something was different as we rounded the familiar corner of Katie's neighborhood. The sight of a home I had been inside so many times was now giving me a knot in my stomach that I had never felt before. I didn’t want to face my best friend.
My mom rang the doorbell, and I took a deep breath. “Be strong for Katie, Michelle,” were my mom’s final instructions before Bob opened the door.
He looked tired and heartbroken, yet somewhat relieved and grateful at the same time. “Thank you so much, Mary Ruth,” he said. “Come on in.”
My mom walked through the door and motioned for me to follow. I took a deep breath and walked into the house. Bob called to Katie to let her know we were there, and I saw her appear from the hallway of her bedroom.
As always, Katie tried to act normal. We prided ourselves in not being like other girls. We knew about sports. We’d rather be outside. We weren’t overly emotional. And we certainly didn’t cry. I could tell that she hadn’t slept much, and I knew she had to be upset, but she made it obvious that she didn’t want to show it.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw my arms around Katie and tell her that it was okay to shed a few tears…or a lot. She had an excuse not to be tough.
“My mom made macaroni and cheese,” is what I said, forcing a smile out of her.
“Your favorite,” Katie said, forcing fake enthusiasm. We both knew that I hated every form of cheese with a passion – the sight, the smell, the texture, everything.
“Yeah,” I agreed, being sarcastic right back.
At that moment, we both looked at each other, and I couldn’t help it. I stopped pretending, and I hugged her. “I’m so sorry, Kate,” I said.
She didn’t say anything. She just stood there and hugged me, and I eventually felt her tears fall down my back. While Katie and I silently hugged and cried, my mom talked to Bob, telling him that Katie was welcome at our house anytime, and that we were available at all times if they needed anything.
We didn’t stay long. My mom knew they were exhausted and that Bob had a ton of preparations to make for the funeral. I cried again as I watched my mom tearfully hug Katie. “You know how much she loved you,” my mom finally managed to say. “And you know that I love you too.” Katie nodded and thanked her, and that was it. We walked out of what now seemed more like a house than a home.
As I walked down the stairs of their front porch, I heard a familiar voice inside my head. Michelle, do you trust Me?
Of course I trust you, God. You know that.
I know. But do you really trust Me?
The second time I heard the question, I didn’t answer. What does He mean, do I trust Him?
I snapped back to reality and watched my mom wipe tears from underneath her eyes as we drove back to our house. As I looked at her, I knew that God was going to change something. And it had to do with my mom.

Esther 4:14b

"And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?"