Category: Health

Posted in Death, Dreams, Future, God, Health, Impossible, Romans 4, Tired, Trust, Tumor

A little too much…

Posted on by narciejeter

I don’t know why but it’s been a hard couple of days in thinking about brain tumor land. Don’t worry nothing new – no change. This sounds so morbid, but on Saturday night I dreamed that I died – literally – and then went to heaven. Let’s just say in my dream, heaven was not what I expected. The pros – my three cats greeted me at the entrance. Who knows what that means…could be because two weeks ago I found out that the oldest cat Pug is in the beginning stages of kidney and renal failure or then again it could be because they greet me at the door all the time and any time they have thrown up a hair ball somewhere or made another mess Mike likes to threaten them. =0)

I don’t remember a ton about the dream or how things were laid out or anything and I am not at all saying that this is what it’s like or any sort of premonition at all (is that enough disclaimers there?), but I spent the dream waiting for people to get there. Now I know that heaven is heaven and duh we’re not going to be miserable sitting around swinging our legs back and forth waiting for the rest of our family to get there, but that was the dream. It sucked. Royally.

I didn’t really tell anyone about it until yesterday primarily because I had been thinking about it a lot and I know that if I say something out loud or if I write about it, in some crazy way, that helps me to process and make sense of things.

And then brain tumor stuff has just been popping up everywhere – wonderful friends checking in, a minister on the conference prayer list that we should be praying for, on everyone’s cancer statuses yesterday which was great, me still trying to get hair gel to smooth down the little hairs from the scar that are now long enough to look a little ridiculous, and the sometimes headaches and tingling that I often ignore but sometimes in one of these moods, wonder about. It is so stinking frustrating sometimes. On Sunday at the South Carolina delegation meeting we listened to a presentation on Benefits and Pension for close to two hours hearing about possible changes at the upcoming General Conference. When talking about life insurance and death benefits and spouses and pensions and insurance and disability for that long there is a large part of me that wants to just think of this as a tiny bump in the road and things are going to be fine and I’ll make it to the mandatory retirement age of 70. It could happen. I know that it could. And there’s another part of me that wants to figure out ways to provide and care for my family no matter what will happen and looking at all scenarios have as much of a plan as I can.

For the most part, I don’t even like bringing it up because I know if I talk to Josh about it while playing basketball or Mike about it when we get home from Wesley or to whoever in some ways, especially for my family, it stresses them out too. They don’t know what’s going to happen any more than I do.

It’s scary. And there’s still a part of me that is angry and frustrated that this is even part of our lives. There’s enough to worry about with kids and bills and living out one’s calling and vocational discernment to actually deal with all of this.

So that’s where I am. Saying to God it may just be a little too much and that I’m a little tired of battling in so many areas.

Are pastors “supposed” to say that? Who knows. But if I don’t keep it real and have my integrity than to me I’m nothing but a hypocrite and someone in denial.

The irony of this is that last night I preached during our sermon series on the book of Romans about God making impossible things possible. We were specifically looking at Romans 4 where it talks about Abraham and his faith. We then had some time of silence at the end where we could have a chance to think about some things that we would see or do or figure out or try or find if only we didn’t have doubts or fears or even sometimes “reality” holding us back. What would you do with your life if you could do absolutely anything and money nor education nor baggage nor what people would think were obstacles for you? What are some of your hopes and dreams for your family, your friends, your community, your church, your work? If we threw all of the “buts” out the window what would we grasp hold of and pursue?

What are the things that get in the way of that? What are some things we need to let go of in order to move forward and try to make our dreams into a reality?

These aren’t questions that you wrestle with for five minutes and than you’re good to go. Or maybe that works for you. I find that I have to intentionally pray and meditate and think and actually force myself to look and open my eyes and heart to the possibilities while telling my fears and frustration and failures to “shut it” for a few minutes so that I can see the light.

Because sometimes it feels like it’s a little too much. Actually sometimes it feels like it’s a lot too much. As excited as I was to move from 3 months to 6 months in the amount of MRI checks, there is a scared part of me that is nervous about that. What if that’s 3 months of something growing and us not doing something about it? I know that my doctors would never have let me go longer if I wasn’t ready to, but that’s what fears do…they somehow make it where even the things you want, you’re nervous about because you’re still feeling a way into a “new normal” or any kind of normal for that matter.

Then you go down the list of all of the people that have it so much worse than you and that things could be a million times more terrible….but that’s not comforting. I don’t want anyone to be going through anything like tumors or cancer or sickness and uncertainty of any kind. Does it mean that you’re thankful for all that God has done, is doing and will do? Sure. I have no idea what I would do without that. I need those times between me and God where I can say what I need to say and cry out and wrestle and not be censored by anyone.

We need time to sit and rest and be with God. We need time to let our fears and frustrations and disillusionment and grief go so that we can let new life spring forth not just in the midst of the weeds randomly despite everything, but in ways that we nurture and water and grow.

So I guess in this rambling post that may not be for anyone except for me writing and figuring this out – I need to find and make time to discern and be open to what God would have me do in this time and place, what God is calling my family to do, our community to do, Wesley to do. I need to trust that it’s okay that sometimes it’s a little too much and it can be heartbreaking and angering and discouraging and annoying. I need to realize that God is bigger than all of this – crazy dreams, long talks on benefits and pensions, things in my life playing up to my fears – and that God is with me and walking with me and comforting me each step of the way even when I want to bless the world and God out sometimes.

Posted in Community, Faith, God's Providence, Grace, Healing, Health, Thankful, Theodicy, Tumor

Update on that Spongy thing inside my Noggin’

Posted on by narciejeter

  I am completely slacking on blogs right now which breaks all the rules of regular blogging.  Sorry about that!  I’ll catch up soon.  Right now I’m at a great conference and have tried to be as fully invested in it as possible, but there has been a part of me distracted.  Some of you that began following this blog when I started writing after finding out that I had a brain tumor and you walked with me through that journey and the recovery and even though the blog has become a little bit something different, I do still want to give you an update on that good ole brain of mine because I believe that this community of support has been invaluable and really a holy presence in my life and I can’t imagine my life without your prayer and support.

I have been doing 3 month MRI and neurosurgeon check ups over the past year.  For the most part, I try to keep moving with life and I give a sincere and concerted effort not to let these worries and fears rule over my life.  Then comes the time when I get the envelope from Carolina Spine and Neurosurgery in the mail with all of my appointment times and as Mike and I see it, I can feel the background stress and tension in me and those I love.  The unknown is so completely…humbling…scary…difficult.  There’s so much to unpack there but that would be an incredibly long blog and mine are already probably way too long.

Last week I went to my (I don’t really care to remember how many its been now) whatevereth MRI and the techs were asking how I was doing and what I was there for, all that good stuff and I told them my hope that maybe this was the visit where I could be increased to every 6 months or every year instead of every 3 months.

On Monday I met with the neurosurgeon and he said that it was the radiologist’s opinion that the part of the tumor still up there in brain/motor cortex land may have grown slightly but that it was very slight.  His opinion was that he didn’t see a change and disagreed with the radiologist.  We then had a lovely back and forth where I looked at the comparison MRI’s myself and tried to understand and that I got a chance to ask some hard questions.  Since Mike was not with me, I could ask some of the things that I want to know and would like to understand but that I don’t want to alarm, worry or hurt someone else by them hearing the questions or the answers.  Does that make sense?

So even though it was not my most favorite news in the world, I was okay.  My amazing doctor said he was going to take the tumor to the tumor board for them to decide if it had grown or not.  I called Mike and my parents on the way home and was okay.

Primarily I was okay because I was leaving the next morning for a conference and I just didn’t have the emotional energy or the whatever to process it.

Yesterday afternoon while I was in a workshop, the doctor left a message and when I hear him say his name I immediately get a little freaked out on the inside even though he’s a fabulous doctor – like fabulous – but it’s just anxiety producing.  But then he says an AMAZING thing – the tumor board doesn’t see any change.  AND because this place on my lovely brain has stayed consistent this year, I get to stretch the time between MRI’s to 6 months!!!!!!!!!!!!!  (I could probably mash exclamation points for a while on that one.)  That may seem like a little thing, but it’s such an act of hope and grace and peace to me.

And though I didn’t shed a tear on Monday, I couldn’t stop crying off and on yesterday evening.  Is that crazy?  The bad news – I take it and I’m like let’s do this thing.  The good news – I’m a basketcase.  In talking with a dear friend and colleague about this last night I told her as I was trying to process and express my layers of feelings that I really needed to blog about this.  For some odd, crazy reason this is how I started this journey – blogging.  And it has been such a healing and cathartic piece or even peace for me.  There’s something about putting it out there in writing and narrative that makes it something that I feel a little more grounded in.  I guess we each have our mediums – whether it’s walking outside or making pottery or playing baseball or journaling.  And I am thankful for this one.

In the midst of this I know that there are those walking incredibly hard and deep and heartbreaking journeys right now.  I think of the family members that are living this reality right now and the friends and loved ones who have faced challenges that I know not of.  Please do lift up in prayer those who are in the midst of the struggle of the unknown and in this thin place where anger and fear and sadness and grief and life and death and joy and pain are so close to the surface at times.  Each of us walks this journey at times.

And we’re not alone.

I have seen Christ in the colleagues that I’ve shared with here and that continue to uplift and inspire and challenge and hold me accountable.  I have seen Christ in my family who continue to battle for me.  I have seen Christ in the countless people that continue to tell me they’re praying for me or those that just give me space to be…and to feel…and to just cry or laugh or talk about it or not talk about it.  I have seen Christ when I’m by myself and I am vulnerable and just laid bare as a child of God.  Although there is no doubt that I would not have chosen for this piece of the puzzle of life, I have felt Christ’s Spirit and promise more tangibly and have felt the Body of Christ more profoundly and genuine than I have felt in my life.

I am grateful for a community of people that I can keep it real with on the sad days and the angry days and the joyous days and the rock and roll days.  I am grateful for a Savior who continues to be that Great Redeemer and Strong Protector and just that Amazing Grace who support us and girds us up in mighty, mighty ways.

So that’s my brain.

And one of the awesome things – 6 MONTHS!!!!!

Grace and peace to all of you.  I am gratefu for you all.

Posted in Campus Ministry, Faith, Health, Life, Sermons

Choose (Abundant) Life

Posted on by narciejeter

It’s that time in the semester when the students are getting really stressed out.  Have you ever wondered why they phrase is stressed “out” and not stressed “in”?  Yes if the stress starts leaking everywhere, it’s eventually going to come out, but there’s so much inward affect that stress has on us.  Facing challenging, difficult, and overwhelming situations from every direction can take a huge toll on a person and as the “prayer” section of Winthrop Wesley’s prayers and praises notebook seems to heartily begin to outweigh the praises you know people are starting to feel down and discouraged.

Around this midterm time it can feel like when it rains it pours.  It seems that when things begin to get hard, the difficulty sometimes can grow exponentially.   A couple weeks ago, we looked at Deuteronomy 30:15-20 and I feel like some of the themes in that text are cropping up all over the place.  God clearly lays out two courses – two ways in which life can go and God asks for us to “Choose life.” 

Choose life even when things seem out of control or insurmountable.  Choose life even when there’s no way things could in a million years work out.  Choose life even when by all logic in this world there aren’t easy or clear answers.  A pastor colleague of mine who frequently amuses and challenges me with his facebook statuses, posted this earlier today, “I watched some news this evening.  I watched FOX, MSNBC and CNN. The message I got? We’re doomed. There is no hope. Pack up your kids and head to the hills. Empty your bank account and hide your money under the mattress. Stock up your shelves. Be afraid, very afraid. And Justin Beiber made the cover of Rolling Stone. Yep, the world is coming to an end!”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or crawl under the bed myself.  I admit that I have caught a little “Bieber fever” in that I enjoyed his Glee episode and some of the songs are quite annoyingly catchy, but I’m not watching the movie.  That’s neither here nor there.  His status was another reminder of very much what the world gives us.  We’re doomed.  There is no hope.  It’s like one of the Charlotte local news networks that Mike and I refuse to watch because the guy always seems so happy when something really awful has happened and he gets to report on it.  I know you’ve got to sell the news but do you have to be so gleeful about an awful car accident or shooting or fire?  

There’s a lot in our world that says yep, we’re doomed.  It actually would be a lot easier to say that in a lot of ways.  You don’t really have to work to bring about change and transformation when the world tells you it’s a waste of time.  What’s the point? 

But is that the way of faith?  Is that the way of the cross?  Or more significantly – the way of an Easter – resurrection people?  Is that the follow up of the verse – “Choose life so that you and our descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lords swore to give your ancestors to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.”  It’s not just choose life.  It’s not just choose to believe in the bright side, the cup half full, the silver lining.  It’s not just reject the negativity that we all know is contagious, the complaining and criticism that does harm and not a bit of good, the spiraling of fear and angst that has no end.  It’s choose life that you may live – loving God, obeying God, and holding fast to God even when all may seem lost or today feels about as cruddy as it can get.  It very clearly reminds us that Jesus said he came to bring us abundant li

What does the word abundance conjure up for you?  Abundance is enough for everyone.  It’s more than enough.  It’s awesome.  It’s bountiful.  A bountiful life.

Is it hard to believe this sometimes?  Yes.  Heck yes.  We got word on Friday that Mike’s 2 year old cousin, Lachlan, who was born with some heart defects and has already experienced heart surgeries, now has a brain tumor.  The neurosurgeon would like to operate and the family is meeting with the cardiologist this Friday for approval of the surgery.  I can’t imagine what Leslie and Cullen are going through in these days as they await these appointments.  There aren’t any words or platitudes or anything that can sermonize that or make it go away and be all right. 

There’s that choosing though even in the midst.  And sometimes we can’t make the choice on our own.  Sometimes it takes a community of faith, a family of strength, a body of believers united in hope to help us continue to choose life.  There are good days and there are bad.  Sometimes it means that we need to cut out some of the negative – whether a toxic situation, person, or past hurt or wound that we haven’t given to God.  Sometimes it’s not letting our fears or our worries rob us of the joy of today.  We have to make the conscious choice to step away, turn off the news sometime or change the channel of our hearts and life. There are days when I know and feel and rest in the promises of God for the life that each of us is given and there are days when I get on Wikipedia and start the worry spin cycle of why’s and what if’s and let me tell you – that path leads nowhere good, productive, or very positive.  That’s where that holding fast to God comes in.  Holding fast to that peace that transcends all understanding, holding fast to the hope and strength that only God can give, and holding fast to someone that can give us more comfort and love than anyone else.  We will hold fast to the promises of God. 

I’m not saying that we all walk around as Pollyanna’s because life is real and it hurts and it really is scary sometimes.  The key is going back to the Source of life – to the Creator that knows our hurts and the things that keep us up at night and even the things that we don’t want to say outloud.  May we in the coming days and weeks and times of uncertainty or chaos or stressed out to the max, find ways to ground ourselves in the power of the One who ignites, breathes and drenches us in new life and hope each and every day.

How will you choose life today?

Yes this is beyond cheesy in some ways and pretty old, but definitely goes with the text – Big Tent Revival’s “Choose Life”:

Posted in Death, Faith, Health, Tumor

Would life change for you?

Posted on by narciejeter

I know I haven’t posted much about the tumor lately and to be honest I haven’t wanted to.  This is not because I haven’t been thinking about it but the opposite.  I think this summer when everything happened, I didn’t really process or take the time to think about everything because it was so fast and then it was the school year and semester and you know how crazy that is.  With a little bit of a break over the past couple of weeks, it’s been tough.  I have a friend who says she only blogs on the bad days, but for some reason, I don’t.  I’m not saying that I haven’t had challenging days and hard days and have not blogged, but when I’m really wrestling with something, I just don’t always want to articulate or “sermonize” it.

After Christmas I did my latest MRI and the next day went and saw the neurosurgeon.  He said there was no change, so the little line of tumor on the motor cortex hasn’t grown and for that I’m thankful.  He didn’t really say anything new, but for some reason I took it more to heart.  I asked him whether I should get off of the seizure medicine or not and he said that was up to the neurologist but he also warned that it is more likely that I will have another symptom whether seizure or otherwise before an MRI would actually pick up a change.  Then he said that it’s not a question of if the tumor will come back, but when.

Now, I know that he’s said this before and I know that this type usually recurs but for some reason it hit me worse this time.  I think it’s because there’s a huge part of me and a sense from a lot of the people around me that everything’s fine now and back to normal and that I have to lead my life as I’ve always lived it.  And I do really want to do that.  It’s hard to tell if I should just go about business as usual or if my life really has changed completely.

I am a huge fan of wikipedia.  That may be completely against my English teacher self and I know it’s not always right or accurate but if you want something quick and consise – especially when I’m trying to figure out history during the Tudors or looking up actors or actresses – it’s a great site.  Did you know that I didn’t even look up “oligodendrogioma” which is the tumor that I had/still have a piece of?  Didn’t even think about it in the rush of the summer and semester.  The diagnosis and the treatment and much of the article follows exactly what we’ve been doing and I didn’t even think to look there.

Now part of me is glad that I didn’t.  I didn’t know that the median survival times for a grade 2 is 11.7 years or for a grade 3 is 3.5 years.  That’s a median I know and as the doctor said I could still live to be 80.  But how does knowing that information affect my life?

Not that we ever know specifics or a particular time table but if you knew you had say 5, 10, 15, 20, 30 years to live, how would that affect how you live your life?  Would it?  Would you change what you eat or how much you exercise or if you take your vitamins?  Would you spend more time with friends and family and try to make more meaningful relationships?  Would you change careers or look at fulfilling your hearts desire in a different vocation?  Would you live your life differently?

I’m not talking about Tim McGraw’s, “Live Like You Were Dying” song and sky diving and rocky mountain climbing – love the song but that’s too cheesy of segue for even me to post.  I’m asking a real question.  How would you live your life differently?  Or would you?  Maybe it’s better just to keep on keeping on and keep fighting and do the best you can and not change anything.  Or maybe we should be living our abundant lives to the fullest every day regardless of any prognosis, time table, or outcome?

I don’t know.  I don’t quite know how I feel about this yet or if this changes anything.  I know that I believe that prayer is powerful.  I know that when I read that article or I read other materials about this tumor that it is miraculous that I have come away from this with very little deficits – not being able to remember names and numbness and tingling every now and then is significantly different than what could have happened.  I thank each of you and my community folks for this.  I know that God walks with those on the 3.7 year side as well as those that live to be 80 and that God’s mercy, love and grace is shown to each.  I know that we all have “stuff” to deal with and for each of us it can be a long and winding road.

When I think about New Year’s resolutions or I think about the future, I think very much of how we live our life.  How do we let our lives speak?  Would you live your life differently knowing…?”

Here are some quotes from the beloved Parker Palmer:

“Verbalizing is not the only way our lives speak, of course. They speak through

our actions and reactions, our intuitions and instincts, our feelings and bodily

states of being, perhaps more profoundly than through our words.”

“Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks–we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.”

“We need a coat with two pockets. In one pocket there is dust, and in the other pocket there is gold. We need a coat with two pockets to remind us who we are.”

“Humility is the only lens though which great things can be seen–and once we have seen them, humility is the only posture possible.”

“As a young man, I yearned for the day when, rooted in the experience that comes only with age, I could do my work fearlessly. But today, in my mid-sixties, I realize that I will feel fear from time to time for the rest of my life. I may never get rid of my fear. But . . . I can learn to walk into it and through it whenever it rises up . . . naming the inner force that triggers . . . fear . . . Naming our fears aloud . . . is the first step toward transcending them.”

Posted in Health, Tumor

No Negative is Positive

Posted on by narciejeter

So that’s what the doctor said today.  No negative change is positive news.  Mike and I went to see Dr. Smith today and he showed us the scans.  I like to have visuals so I’m glad he showed them to us.  There’s still a bright part that could be scar tissue, swelling or still some of the tumor – but as Mike said – there’s no new players in the band.  Ie. there are no new negative things.  So that is good!

Mike started asking a lot of questions in typical deep voice, serious form and Dr. Smith responded, “Right…you’re the questions guy.”  That was funny.  He asked why the image still looked like that with like a hole there and he said that I would never have another normal looking brain MRI again.  The brain doesn’t grow back and the tumor was in part of the brain matter so therefore some of it is gone.  Very little though.  Ridiculously I was taking it very personally that Mike was talking about my brain and part of it not being there even though I know I’m still me and I’m okay.  Anyway, the funniest thing of the afternoon – Mike says well we only use a small percentage of our brains anyway, and Dr. Smith says something along the lines of well she didn’t really need that part anyway.  Yay!

Mike is excited by all of this news!  No negative change is a positive report.  We’ll keep doing MRI’s every 3 months for awhile and we’ll see what happens.  Dad on the phone earlier asked what could have made the news perfect?  Well that my brain is normal of course.  That it’s not always going to look like that on an MRI.  That there’s no bright smudgy line that’s still there.

But hey – I’ll take “No negative is positive” any day of the week.  This paired with some folks dropping off some paper towels as donations to Wesley – have made the day sunny again – and even in my un-air conditioned building – that is good.

Posted in Campus Ministry, Community, Health, Music, Prayers, Suffering

It’s been hopping

Posted on by narciejeter

If I’m ever not blogging it’s because I’m swamped or maybe even more than I’d like to admit – I’m afraid to “voice” something.  A friend of mine who I love commented on my facebook a few weeks ago when she heard about the campus ministry funding cut – something along the lines of “feeling like Job lately?”

Don’t want to go there because I’m not asking for any other challenges headed this way, but after going to Presbyterian’s Ballantyne office for the MRI yesterday I returned to Wesley to find that our air conditioner has officially passed on to the other side.  When there’s an explosion and smoke and then the awesomely amazing Adams Services guy shows you wires burned in two and half the thing on the inside is black and no fans are moving – that’s not a good sign.

It’s an even worse feeling when he has to bring in the “big guns,” ie. the owner of the company to give me the bad news that it’s good and gone and they can’t rig it up any other way.  The thing worked hard for us so I am thankful for that.  I’m also thankful that it’s not too hot so far today and no one tell the Wesley students that there won’t be a/c tonight – we’ll make do and I want them to still come!

I couldn’t sleep for a long time last night trying to figure out where in the world we’re going to get $8,000-$11,000 for an air conditioner and even more importantly for the winter – the heat pump so that it’s not just straight up gas heat.  I looked up grants and wow that us.gov sight is a monstrosity of crazy info.  I know that somehow, someway we’ll come up with the money to make this happen.  Somehow we always do and I know that God and the people that support this ministry are faithful.

For the past two days Mike has been recording with Tom Conlon in the worship/fellowship room at Wesley.  Many have said this room’s acoustics are like magic and even without AC, the magic room came through.  In walking up to the building this morning and rolling up the trash cans and recycle bins I began to ask myself why do I care about this building so much?  Why do I care about this space?  In the sceme of things what does it really matter?  When there’s bills to pay and things to repair – what stops us from just chucking it all?

My answer is both simple and sincere.  There is magic that happens here.  Tears are rolling down my face just thinking about it which makes me either really sappy or beyond emotional.  This is not a Harry Potter kind of magic but one that happens when community is formed and shaped and grows and changes and is found.  This building is so much more than just a building to me because both as a student and as a campus minister I have witnessed the powerful things that have happened here.  We have shared much laughter and some tears, we have shared in worship and I have seen someone’s call to ministry unfold at an Ash Wednesday service, we have cooked dinner as family and have hung out as friends.  This is part of what the students mean when they talk about Wesley being a home away from home. 

Yesterday after getting back from the MRI I talked to a student who has been coming here for 2 and a half years to use the prayer room several times a week.  He’s only been to one Wesley night but he comes and uses the prayer room as often as he can.  Yesterday he stopped me in the hall and said thank you for us providing this space for him and for people just to come and be.

I think about the student groups and the gospel choirs and the other campus ministries that use this place and how this building and the things that it stands for and witnesses to is greater than we know.  Yes it is just a building – with windows that aren’t the greatest, an exterior paint job that needs some help, and a vacant lot that is probably one of the worst parking lots imaginable – but it is ours and it is home to both the sacred and the sacrilege – the holy and the profane – the mysterious divine and the completely human.

So we’re going to somehow make this work.  Somehow.  By the grace of God and a lot of prayer and hopefully some creative solutions.

Today at 1:15 pm we’ll go to the neurologist and see what’s up.  Do I think a tumor has grown back?  Nope.  Was I very tempted to ask the MRI folks yesterday?  Heck yes.  Am I apprehensive?  Sure.

Ann Curry tweeted this this morning – “The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.  These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern.  Beautiful people do not just happen.” – Elizabeth Kubler Ross

The only way I see this beauty is through the eyes of the community that surrounds us.  We get to the other side by the grace of God, the One who sustains us, and those that God has joined with us on this journey.  As I wait and hear what’s up today and as I begin trying to figure out that ever lovely money question for air conditioners and programming and all that Wesley jazz – I am thankful for the arms that cradle each of us in both the good and the bad, the light and the dark, the joy and the loss.

I’ll leave you with a song that Tom Conlon played at Wesley a few weeks ago.  Love this song.  It’s called “Leaning”…

Here’s his “Sacred Things”

Posted in affliction, Campus Ministry, Faith, Health, Music, perseverance, Tumor, U2

So in reading about afflictions…

Posted on by narciejeter

Affliction is such a yuck word.  Don’t you think?  Affliction.  Doesn’t sound good at all?  I just googled it and did you know there’s an Affliction clothing line?  Why in the world would you want “Affliction” clothing?

The Upper Room this morning was on 2 Corinthians 1:3-7.  It begins with, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation, who consoles us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to console those who are in any affliction with the consolation with which we ourselves are consoled by God.”

I wrote about the race earlier and about perseverance and some of our afflictions sure do take some perseverance.  This is the first week of school at Winthrop and could arguably be one of our busiest weeks of the year.  We’ve been doing our thing here at Wesley and things are going pretty well – it’s great meeting new people and love, love, love connecting and catching up with our returning Wesley folks!

But this is tiring….and draining….and so many more depleting adjectives.  It doesn’t seem like it’s just student life, but everywhere it seems that folks are tired right about now as we all get into the swing of a school year.

I admit that at times I am frustrated – I can’t remember things I used to.  I am really tired and the typical adrenaline boost is not kicking in.  I just can’t gear up for this right now – the energy reserves are not there.  I also finally got the letter scheduling the next MRI and surgeon’s appointment – September 14th MRI and September 15th the brain surgeon.

I’d like to think that I can do this normal welcome back wohoo wesley thing no problem and the same as always, but if I’m honest with myself – it’s not the same.  I can’t run around like a crazy person and not feel those affects.  Humbling.  Frustrating.  Frightening.  Freeing?

We get so caught up in a numbers game – so caught up in how much can we produce?  Who is coming to Wesley?  How many?  Who showed up for church on Sunday? How much money is our company making?  What did we do today?  There’s such a focus on numbers and what we do that we forget to just be and that we don’t have to do it all.  I write that, but do I mean that?  Josh and I were talking about numbers and church/Wesley/what is the crazy thing called ministry stuff this week and I know that when pastors say we shouldn’t focus on the numbers, that can sometimes mean they’re just using that as a justification for the size of the body of folks that they work with.  But sometimes I really do question numbers…is that all that there is to say that you’re doing something?  Do we get so caught up in proving that something is happening at our churches or in our classes or in our workplaces or in our lives that we miss the blessings and consolations that God gives us along the way?  Or do we miss being those blessings and consolations to others because we’re more concerned about the to-do lists and keeping up with “that” family or company or church or whatever?

I wonder what would happen if we didn’t just feel frustrated by some of these things that seem to limit us or tie us down but we could flip that and feel the freedom from the endless search for perfection and the chance to claim even our inabilities, sufferings, and crud for the grace and strength of God?  I can believe that at the beginning of the day reading the Upper Room.  It’s harder to believe at the end of a day wondering where it all went and how the list never gets shorter.

Maybe we just need to give ourselves a break…

U2’s “Walk On” is on my itunes dj right now.  Maybe that’s what we do from all the things that can weigh us down – we walk on.  Some of our afflictions may go with us, but we can trust that God is with us and we walk on.

“Leave it behind
You’ve got to leave it behind
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
All that you break
All that you measure
All that you steal
All this you can leave behind
All that you reason
All that you sense
All that you speak
All you dress up
All that you scheme…”

Posted in change, Community, Grace, Health, Music, Tumor

Neurologist Update

Posted on by narciejeter

Hi y’all,

I realized earlier today I haven’t really updated folks on the latest health stuff.  It’s both easy and difficult to push that to the back of my mind – especially this time of the year as we prepare for the students return.

Mike and I went a couple weeks ago to the new neurologist and she’s great!  An Emory Med School grad and it was like night and day from before which was great.  Mike particularly liked her which is high praise.  We talked to her about the small things that have changed since the surgery and she did some tests that proved that we weren’t just imagining things.  I have found that I can’t always remember simple things or people’s names even I’ve known them forever.  She showed me some flash cards with simple objects on them and although I knew what each was and they were simple like an umbrella or something like that.  I couldn’t actually say all of their names for a little while.  It’s like I know it but there’s some sort of delay or block.  I knew that I had been feeling this way but when she did that test, I knew for sure, that everything wasn’t “back to normal.”  We then did a test where you’re supposed to walk in a straight line.  Yes, like the drunk test.  Welp, totally bombed that one too.  I haven’t noticed any difference in regular life with my motor skills so that was a little startling to know that even that’s a little off.  She said she would testify on behalf if I failed a DUI test – no worries there since I can’t drive but it was funny nonetheless.

 I know that this is normal after brain surgery and many people laugh and say this comes with age.  I get that.  I’m not expecting to do everything that I could do before or to be able to snap my fingers and that this all will disappear.  But it’s tough because like she said that day – I look perfectly normal.  The way my hair is cut and the way I part it now completely covers up my scar that stretches 22 sutures from the top of my head to my ear.  Now that is a great haircut!  When you look normal and you’re trying to go back to your life and all of the same challenges and demands, it’s easy to forget that things are different.

For someone that talks and remembers things as part of her job – her ministry – her vocation – her life – not being able to think clearly on your feet is hard.  There’s no way around that.  Am I worried about August quickly approaching and getting ready for the school year?  Heck yes.  Am I worried that my normal “meditations” with the students in worship will be that much more difficult trying to remember and bring things together?  Yep.  Am I learning that I need to depend on other people more and I need to rest in the grace of God more?  Oh yeah.  I feel like a middle schooler without her license as I ask people for rides all the time.  But then again, it’s good to let others help you sometimes.  If we really are community it’s a balance of each of us helping and taking turns and building up the body.

Anyway – long story short – the neurologist says I’ll be on the seizure meds for 2 years if nothing happens again.  One piece of good news that I liked since I’m a little afraid of the seizures – if I have a little seizure (not go unconscious) then that doesn’t start over my 6 months wait to drive.  Scary I know.  Only if I go unconscious does that restart so November 28th I am looking forward to you!  I’ll see the neurologist again in January so the only thing on the docket now is the MRI in September.

That and getting ready for the school year!  But hey that’s just the normal crazy campus minister to do list…

Mike has done a lot of songs by Michael Gungor in The Journey service and I really do like his music a lot.  We’ve been playing the Gungor album “Beautiful Things” in our car for a while.  Below is a song by their group called “Please Be My Strength.”  It’s melody and lyrics speak to me and I hope it will speak to some of you.

I’ve tried to stand my ground
I’ve tried to understand
but I can’t seem to find my way
 
like water on the sand
or grasping at the wind
I keep on falling short
 
please be my strength
please be my strenth
I don’t have anymore
I don’t have anymore
 
I’m looking for a place
that I can plant my faith
one thing I know for sure
 
I cannot create it
I cannot sustain it
It’s Your love that’s keeping (captured) me
 
Please be my strength…
 
at my final breath
I hope that I can say
I’ve fought the good fight of faith
 
I pray your glory shines
through this doubting heart of mine
so my world would know that You
 
You are my strength
You and You alone
You and You alone
Keep bringin me back home

Posted in Faith, God's Providence, Grace, Guidance, Healing, Health, Justice, Movies, Prayers, pride, Sermons, Trust

Prayer

Posted on by narciejeter

This Sunday’s Gospel lectionary text is Luke 11:1-13.  It begins with the disciples asking Jesus to teach them how to pray and Jesus teaching them Lord’s prayer followed by him talking about seeking and finding and words that I say in just about every other sermon or talk with students at one time or another.  Very familiar words… “Ask, and it will be given you; search and you fill find; knock, and hte door will be opened for you.  For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”  Then it goes on talking about eggs and scorpions.  It’s a rich text.  And when I picked it at the beginning of the week when I working on the bulletin, I really wanted to work on it and see where the Spirit led because while saying the Lord’s prayer in the midst of The Journey service last week, I actually stumbled over some of the words – can’t even remember which ones now – because I was thinking about what they actually meant and what we’re actually saying when we say that familiar and yet powerful prayer.

I admit that as often is the case when I pick a text as time gets closer to Sunday I start to second guess and think that I might should have gone with one of the others.  It is always awe-inspiring for me to think about all of the little and amazing things that God brings to us when we’re wrestling with something.  This week it has been prayer for me.  Part of me does regret picking that text because there’s a part of me that’s not ready to think seriously and openly about this text after the events of the past couple months.  It’s still a little too personal to put into a sermon or to reflect on.

Mike brought in the poster board card that the folks at SC’s Annual Conference made me while I was having surgery.  Who knows how it ended up in my trunk and I have no clue who brought it from Florence but it ended up in Wesley on Thursday morning as Mike was cleaning out my trunk.  I can’t say how much those prayers meant to me and continue to mean to me.  I can’t begin to express how much I want to keep asking and knocking on that door in prayer in hope.

I’ve been reading various women’s books over all this time out of sheer boredom from doctor’s office visits and when the kids are watching that episode of Caillou or Dora or Phinneas and Ferb for the millionth time.  (Sidenote:  most women’s books are so depressing and sad – does no one believe in happy endings anymore besides the Christian fiction authors???)  One of my dear students here let me borrow The Time Traveler’s Wife before she left for the summer.   Beautiful story.  Deep love.  I will never watch the movie because it’s more sad than I want, but beautiful.  Yet again I do think God brings random things into our lives that wake us up to a truth we need to see or things we need to realize or just that guidance that we can’t always even understand.  In reading the ending of that book – I found myself realizing that even though I have prayed and felt uplifted throughout this journey and I have appreciated the prayers of so many, I’ve never actually cried out specifically for God to heal me. 

It kind of freaks me out even to type it.  I know that’s weird.  Especially for a pastor that does believe that prayer can do miraculous things.  And someone that does believe in the “Heal me and I will be healed.  Save me and I will be saved.  For you alone are God.”  So in thinking about the sermon that I have no idea what I’m going to really say tomorrow – what makes us afraid to ask or knock or seek?  What holds us back?  What stands in our way?

Crying out to God that night, trying to figure it out – I don’t know.  It’s a lot of things.  Fear that it won’t happen.  Fear of what healing really means and for how long.  Fear that even if everything is healed, I won’t know how to go back to life as usual.  Is it pride?  Do I pray for others but not want to pray for myself?  Why is that?  I’m no more resilient or together and certainly not any more godly.  Is it that I see people all around every day and I hear stories of people that need healing so much more and I wonder and rail that I’m sure some of them ask, seek, and knock and where are their good gifts and not scorpions?  I just saw a blip of Ann Curry’s special on the Today Show with the family of 10 living on $500 a month and I’m like why am I even taking the time to write a blog or eating lifesaver gummies when there are people out there that are struggling and hurting needing “good gifts” as much as the rest of us.

Do we think we’re not good enough to ask?  Or not deserving enough?  Or needy enough?  Or nice enough?  What is it that holds us back from prayer?  What makes it hard to ask and give these things over?  Control?  Pride?  Fear?  Anger at what we’ve seen as unanswered prayer?

In watching Anne of Green Gables on PBS for a couple weekends I noticed how Marilla first taught Anne how to pray and she explained to her in a very simple manner – that she should thank God for God’s blessings and then ask God if there’s something she’d like.  Hilarious scene.  Sadly youtube does not have it.  I think about the whole ACTS – Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication.  I think of all the prayer circles and prayer ministries and prayer shawls (and Windsor UMC I love the one y’all made me!  it is in my office and i’ve already had a couple students wrap in it and i hope feel your prayers!).  I read this passage and think very layered/complicated back and forth theology blah, blah, blah statements but you know it’s really pretty simple.  Ask – it will be given, search – find, knock – door open.  It’s not complicated.  And yet somehow we make it so in our minds.  Or maybe that’s just mine.

I don’t have all the answers and I feel sure that I won’t have come up with them by tomorrow morning at 11 am, but I do know that God is a God of love and that God does love us as God’s very own.  So those scorpions or the AIDS or the heart attacks or the car accidents or the cancers or the abuse or the hurricanes are not from God.  They can be used by God for our good but our God knows us, loves us and seeks the best for us.

Maybe that’s what it boils down to…the trust and the faith to believe not only that God answers prayer and that God hears us, but that God is love and is good and is not going to bait and switch us and give us a mouse trap to stick our fingers in instead of an awesome gigantic lollipop.  It is with confidence and boldness that we pray knowing that we are heard and held by the great God of the universe.  We can cry out when we’re starting a new job, or a new school, or a new adventure and we will be answered.  We can continue to ask the hard questions and wrestle and just not understand and as we seek, surely we will find…Can’t wait for each of us to knock on that door and to see the warm light and smile when the door is opened.

Found this from Celine Dion and Josh Groban on youtube.  I know a little cheesey but I do think there’s a love and emotion in there that is present in these passages about prayer…that love of parent and child – that guidance and leading.

I pray you’ll be our eyes, and watch us where we go.
And help us to be wise in times when we don’t know
Let this be our prayer, when we lose our way
Lead us to the place, guide us with your grace
To a place where we’ll be safe

The light you have
I pray we’ll find your light
will be in the heart
and hold it in our hearts.
to remember us that
When stars go out each night,
you are eternal star
Nella mia preghiera
Let this be our prayer
quanta fede c’è
when shadows fill our day

How much faith there’s
Let this be our prayer
in my prayer
when shadows fill our day
Lead us to a place, guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we’ll be safe

We dream a world without violence
a world of justice and faith.
Everyone gives the hand to his neighbours
Symbol of peace, of fraternity
We ask that life be kind
and watch us from above
We hope each soul will find
another soul to love

The force his gives us
We ask that life be kind
is wish that
and watch us from above
everyone finds love
We hope each soul will find
around and inside
another soul to love
Let this be our prayer
Let this be our prayer, just like every child

Need to find a place, guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we’ll be safe
Need to find a place, guide us with your grace
Give us faith so we’ll be safe

It’s the faith
you light in us
I feel it will save us

Posted in Health, Tumor

Call from Doc

Posted on by narciejeter

Just to keep y’all updated on the medical part of this blog.  I talked with the doctor yesterday and he assured me that the Tumor Board agreed with his plan to wait this out for 3 months and then do an MRI to see how/if things grow/change.  Since they don’t know how long the tumor was there, they’re not sure how all of this will play out.  He did say that there’s no radiation needed right now so that’s good news.

I asked a lot of questions about it being a grade 2 tumor and what that meant.  I also really hedged on asking the question I really wanted to know specifically about this type of tumor but he was wise enough to know what I was asking.  He responded, “So you’re asking about life expectancy.” And I said yes.  And he said that there’s a wide range.  The tumor may come back in 2-3 years or 10 years or could be even longer.  A lot of it depends on how all of these MRI’s play out.  Bottom line – there’s no set answer for what this is going to look like in the long run.  But there’s no immediate threat.  This is not a grade 3 or 4 tumor.  And we are VERY thankful for that!

I know that your prayers had and will continue to have a great impact on these outcomes and I thank you for all of them.  I thank you for all of the cards and support and even pictures in the sand (loved that one!).  I thank you for walking with us and keeping us in your hearts.  Your support has been amazing and I seriously could never thank you enough.  We don’t know what the future holds.  No clue.  But we know who walks with us each step of the way.

I’ll meet with the neurologist next week and we’ll go from there on that end.  And other than that – it’s time to keep rockin and rollin with life.  Thank y’all, thank y’all, thank y’all!  Can’t say it enough!