Letting Go

It was a little over a year ago when my "replacement" (with added responsibilities) joined the Black Rock Retreat team once again. Jamie and I had worked in the same building the first two years of this current part of my Black Rock Retreat career. Though our paths rarely crossed in that short time, from the moment I knew that he was considering applying for this new position, I was hopeful that it would be him. On his first day as my replacement and new supervisor he came into my office, pulled up a chair, leaned forward and looked into my eyes. "How are you?", he asked with a deep compassion that brought tears to my eyes. I knew all would be well.

Jamie's first week last year was during our sixth Family Camp. It was my honor to be the leader of our Family Camp team from day one till the last day of Family Camp #6. At that point, Jamie took the lead. Last week we hosted Family Camp #7. This time I was an assistant. I went from being the leader of the most awesome group of talented men to a small voice with limited responsibilities. Letting go.

Letting go can be difficult. But my parents have led the way and shown us how to walk this journey. When the time was right, they let go of their much loved careers and embraced new part-time careers. But eventually the process of growing older led them to letting go of these to move to a retirement community. This huge step involved letting go of their home, their accumulated possessions, their town, their way of life. My dad also let go of driving because of impaired vision. This could not have been easy for this man who hauled giant steel girders up and down the east coast for much of his career! He also released his grip on hunting, a lifelong hobby. On top of that, a few months later we had to say goodbye to my brother who left this life unexpectedly. And then, after a few years of being settled into a much loved cottage, they had to move because their cottage was to be torn down due to an expansion project. Yet another unexpected change and another opportunity to let go and trust God for the next step.

Through it all, they rarely complained, rarely had a pity party, rarely grumbled. They showed us by example how to walk this always changing pathway of letting go with grace and peace....trusting God.

Letting go takes trust. Trusting God that the next step will be good, that He will fill the void. Holding on can lead to hardship; letting go can lead to lasting peace.

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.

A time to be born and a time to die;

A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill and a time to heal;

A time to break down and a time to build up;

A time to weep and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get and a time to lose;

A time to keep and a time to cast away;

A time to rend and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence and a time to speak;

A time to love and a time to hate;

A time of war and a time of peace....

HE has made everything beautiful in His time."

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, 11a

A different kind of shouting....or results: take 2

Hearing the word "progression" is NOT what any cancer survivor wants. And yet, for many of us, this is our journey. I really really had hoped to be on my current medication for years and years. That was not to be. Though I am feeling fine, recent scans show progression in various areas.

In the days following my doctor appointment I had time alone to process this shattering news. I confess to shouting to my dear heavenly Father......"so many others are on this drug for years, WHY NOT ME?????!!!!" Why not, indeed. I looked at the glass in my hand and could easily have thrown it at the wall with all my strength. Thankfully, practicality won that battle. Who would have cleaned up the mess? Uh, that would be me! As I wrote down that question, God clearly spoke to me (not audibly) the words spoken by Jesus many years ago, "What is that to you? You follow me." Yes, Lord, I hear you.

Yesterday, a different kind of shouting was heard in my kitchen. I received a phone call from my nurse navigator, Amy Jo, with the news that my test results showed the hoped for result: the cancer cells had developed a resistance to my current medication. The wonderful news is that there is another drug that will do the work of my previous one AND find it's way around the resistance. I completely expect to be in remission once again. The unknown.....AGAIN....is how long this drug will work. Ah, the glorious unknown. But each day of remission is a day closer to healing. Each day is a gift.

Dear friends, your prayers and words of encouragement and hope have been a gift to us. I'm so thankful. For you. For the gift of time. Days to make memories, to share love, to enjoy the zinnias, to embtace my job, to float in the pool and jump the waves in the ocean. To worship and pray. To forgive and give hugs. To walk and talk or just sit and cry. To kiss grandbabies.

How are you filling your days? Make them good ones because there is one huge UNKNOWN for all of us. We don't know when our earthly days will end and eternity begins. For now, we are here. Let's make the most of these opportunities to be God's hands and feet, His ambassadors in this world. So today I'm gonna swim with my grandbabies and help plan Family Camp and pick worship songs for next Sunday. How about you?