Sep 27
Our world could sure use some good news, couldn’t it? In many ways it’s a frightening time in which to be living—wars, rumors of wars, the constant threat of terrorism, violence on the streets, political unrest, stress in the workplace, and so many friends and relatives with cancer.
Life is not only hard; it’s downright unfair, as some people seem to have more than their share of trouble. You or your loved one might even be one of those people.
You may feel like the middle-aged man I overheard remark: “Every time I think I have my life together, something happens and it’s falling apart again!”
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we lived in a world where everything was fair and people didn’t get sick and sad things didn’t happen and nobody had to die? Who wouldn’t want to call such a place their “home?”
Did you ever wonder why there’s such a long in each of us for just such a place? It’s a longing for home, you know. A longing for our real home. You see, we weren’t created to live in Pennsylvania or New York or Florida or anywhere else on the face of this planet. We were created for our real home—Heaven.
The Bible describes Heaven in Revelations 21:4 as a place where God “will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.”
And why won’t there be any more tears or death or sorrow or pain? Not because we’ll have all the money we ever wanted or all the fame or all the beauty or any other tangible item.
It’s because we’ll have God Himself.
In Revelation 21:3, the verse right before the one about no more tears, it says: “Look! God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them and they will be his people.”
That’s why there won’t be any more tears or pain or death. We’ll have what we always really needed to be whole—the constant presence of God Himself.
The great 17th-century philosopher and mathematician Blaise Pascal wrote that each of us has a “God-shaped vacuum” in us. There’s a hole, so to speak in our hearts that leaves us longing for something more than this world has to offer. It’s a hole and a longing that God put in us when He created us. He knows only He can fill that hole even though we try to fill it ourselves with all sorts of other things. Some of us try to fill it by buying “stuff” or with relationships or with work or sports or with learning or religious rituals. Some even try things like food or sex or drugs or alcohol. But none of these can fill the God-shaped vacuum in us…instead they only make it bigger.
The only thing that fills that hole and makes us whole is when God fills it with Himself by putting His very Spirit inside us, one life at a time. And when God’s Spirit lives inside us, we discover our purpose for living.
It’s really quite simple. Do you know what it is?
We were created to praise God.
That’s right. We find true joy, true fulfillment, when we realize there’s Someone bigger than us. Someone greater than us. Someone worthy of every bit of praise we can give.
Our purpose in life is not about us. We were created to praise God with our lips…and our lives.
And when we do, a feeling of peace and power comes over us that reminds us this world is not our real home. If you’ve not really had praise for God well up in your heart lately (or ever!), I pray that you will today.
And if you’re still trying to fill that God-shaped vacuum with other things, I pray you’ll allow God’s to fill you with Himself and satisfy that longing for your real home. +++++++++++
(If the music video below doesn’t automatically load, please copy, paste and click this link to enjoy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbh43MGoigw )
Sep 20
Today’s blog is a little unusual, but my birthday is Sunday and once you’ve had cancer (especially at the age of 36) you look at birthdays differently. You give up complaining about getting older and instead, realize that aging is a privilege you almost didn’t get. Every A.C. birthday is a wonderful chance to celebrate and thank God for the gift of life..
So…this is my last birthday before Medicare and I know all of my 1,047 FB friends and hundreds of blog subscribers are wondering “What should I get Lynn Eib for her birthday? I mean she already has EVERYTHING a woman could want: Dashing, debonair husband with two brand new knees. Gorgeous daughters who only make fun of her in months with 28 days. The world’s most wonderful grandchildren who allow her to constantly hug and kiss them until they are old enough to run.“
I mean what could you possibly get me that I don’t already have? A new hairdo not from the ‘60s? Typing lessons so I write books with more than four fingers? A cat who doesn’t puke all over the house?
These are all great suggestions and I plan on starting Go Fund Me pages for each, but they’re not really what I want for my birthday. What I want…and really need…are Amazon.com reviews for my new book Peace in the Face of Cancer. I know…you’re disappointed that this gift won’t cost you anything. It’s irritating that you don’t have to drive somewhere and wait in line to purchase it. And I’m sure you are really bummed that it’s only going to take about five minutes of your time to give me this gift. I’m sorry, but this is what I really want.
Just like the Jelly-of-the-Month Club, a review is the gift that keeps on giving. It helps other readers decide to buy the book, which in turn improves the book’s sales rank, which increases its visibility on Amazon.com. Once I sell a lot more books, I can afford a new hairdresser. I can pay for typing lessons. And I’ll have enough money to hire a hit-man to take out my cat. (BTW that’s a joke, I love my puking cat.)
Oh, and more cancer patients and their caregivers will discover how to foster peace in their own homes and lives, as well as how to find God’s supernatural peace in their hearts and minds regardless of the medical prognosis. Hurting people will feel peace in the face of cancer.
And maybe, just maybe, in God’s grace, lost people will find Jesus. That’s what I really want for my birthday.
P.S. Here’s the link, and remember, in case you’re in the witness protection program, you don’t have to post under your real name! https://www.amazon.com/Peace-Face-Cancer-Lynn-Eib/dp/1496417984/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1501528971&sr=1-1&keywords=Lynn+Eib
(I’m pretty sure most of the people in this music video are 84, not 64, but enjoy it anyway!)
Sep 13
Done any “internal jogging” lately?
That’s the phrase some researchers use to describe the therapeutic benefit of laughter because it increases our heart rate much like physical exercise does. I don’t know about you, but I like the idea of “yucking” it up much better than the notion of taking a run.
When I was first diagnosed with cancer as a young wife and mother, I honestly wondered if I would ever really laugh again. Life felt so very serious and it was hard to imagine having a really good belly laugh over anything.
That’s why when I came home from the hospital; I sent my husband directly to the video store (remember them?) to get me every “Pink Panther” movie he could find. You may not enjoy Peter Seller’s slapstick comedy as the bumbling Inspector Clouseau, but I always have found it impossible to watch and not laugh.
So I watched them all. I laughed through them all. And it was very good medicine.
Now I am not one who believes laughter always can cure what ails you, but I definitely believe the proverb that tells us “a cheerful heart is good medicine.” My Bible footnotes say the literal translation is “a cheerful heart causes good healing.”
It is a real understatement to say that cancer (or any other serious illness) isn’t very funny. But it’s not an overstatement to say that we can find joy and even laughter in the midst of theses trials. You have to look for it and sometimes you have to even create it for yourself (go ahead and rent some funny movies!).
If you can’t think of anything funny or a reason to be cheerful, try this one from Psalm 118:24: This is the day the LORD has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it!”
Every day is a gift from God. The fact that you are alive is reason enough to rejoice. You can show love and be loved. No matter what else happens–or doesn’t happen–go ahead and be glad in today. It will be good medicine. And here’s a prayer you may want to pray today (based on Nehemiah 8:10 and Numbers 6:24-26):
Lord, I pray that You will give me a cheerful heart, in spite of all I’ve gone through and all that still is ahead. I know I don’t have to just smile, pretend I’m happy and that everything is all right. But I do want to feel Your quiet joy in me and even hear laughter from my lips. I want to remember that there is life after and even with a serious illness.
Please help me to heed Nehemiah’s words not to be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is my strength. And Holy Spirit, please develop in me the fruit of joy—a joy that’s not based on my circumstances, but on my relationship with my Father. Let it be a joy that is simply grateful for the gift of another day to love and be loved.
I pray, Lord, that You will bless me and protect me. That You will smile on me and be gracious to me. And that You will show me Your favor and give me Your peace. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Today’s Tip: Remember it’s impossible to tickle yourself, so get some help to tickle your funny bone—watch a comedy, browse a store’s humorous greeting card section or hang out with a funny friend. Laughter, like yawning is contagious! (Check out today’s “Laughing Song”–no amazing lyrics, just puppets yucking it up 🙂 )
(This blog is adapted from a devotional I had published in the book Praying through Cancer:Set Your Heart Free from Fear, copyright 2006 Susan Sorensen and Laura Geist, W Publishing Co., a division of Thomas Nelson Inc.)
(If the music video doesn’t automatically load, please copy, paste and insert this link to enjoy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5V-I5Wy334&list=RDq5V-I5Wy334#t=1 )
Sep 06
These halls are quiet on a Sunday morning with only the sound of monitors to echo in the silence of large emergency room.
Not this again. I am tired of this place.
It’s been a while since I’ve stood here, and yet it comes right back as if it were but a minute past. The too quiet of suppressed discomfort and fear, the too still of exhaustion, all mixed into the smell of sterility and latex.
“Are they going to do anything that hurts me, Mom?”
“No, son.” I hope not, son.
Chase is seven now. He’s five whole years past the first minute we heard the awful words “There’s a large mass”. He’s five whole years into his aggressive, malignant brain and spine tumors and his eye problems and his heart and hearing issues, and every other issue that seems to walk hand-in-hand with that cancer word.
Every time he is wheeled into the MRI, the news comes that his status remains “No Evidence of Disease”, but the magnetic resonance can’t quite pick up on the evidence of pain, suffering, brokenness, and exhaustion.
This Sunday morning, the rest of the family is at church and Chase and I, we sit in the darkened ER room not because he’s had a seizure, or a relapse, or even a headache. Oh no, we sit in this space because his face is swelling and it needs to be stopped. The doctor explains in matter-of-fact tones that the airways are crucial and swelling is sometimes bad for breathing.
And my balding boy’s face swells and grows some more against cheeks tinged pink with fevers because when you’ve had ten different chemotherapies and radiation and everything but the kitchen sink thrown at your body when you could barely walk, well, sometimes your immune system decides to go A.W.O.L. over a cavity. One little cavity that goes rogue and becomes an abscess and then suddenly we are sitting in the ER on a Sunday morning instead of going to church. Again.
I want to fight it. I don’t want this to be how the day goes.
And yet, isn’t this the way of it all too often when it comes to life and cancer? The big things are sometimes the easiest to accept because they just straight-up rob you of breath and heart beats and feel so inevitable in their “bigness”. It’s the little things like the port that occludes, the eyelashes that fall out, the random side effect or the ninety-seventh time to the ER that just wastes away at my patience and my faith. The little foxes in the vineyard of the faith marriage between my Savior and me [Song of Solomon 2:15] are beeping monitors, sticky IV needles, and the nurses who say “Okay, we just have one more set of questions for you here.” Make it stop, please Lord.
So many times I have prayed to be delivered from the awful repeat of the hospital day. So many times the answer is no. And quite a handful of times the answer is no and there’s more.
So many wild cards…
And yet, here’s the thing and don’t miss it…
Jesus is in charge of the wild cards. In truth, the wild is not wild to him. “To [God] the night shines bright as day. Darkness and light are the same to you.” It only looks upside-down and inside-out to us.
So where do you go when it’s the ninety-seventh hit in a row on your patience and faith is feeling really thin and worn?
I’m so glad you asked. Come sit in the ER with me – in these uncomfortable chairs – and we will review what we know to be true. Because I need to hear it again…and maybe you do too?
God is good even when He doesn’t do what we ask: “Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness’.” [2 Corinthians 12:8-9a]
God sees things we cannot see: “Now we see things imperfectly like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely just as God now knows me completely.” [1 Corinthians 13:12]
God is for us: “The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” [Exodus 14:14]
And here’s why I lay these verses down again and again even though they hold no help for radiation-rotten teeth, and no cure for a 7-year-old desperately broken by a tragic disease. Here’s why: because I may never get the answers I want on this side of heaven. I may never see the healing I desire, the miracles I crave, and the next time I pray not to go to the ER, there’s a very real chance that I could end up with Chase admitted instead – because this is the way of the cancer world: two steps back for every one slow shuffle forward.
But this: God’s words are sharper than the sharpest scalpel and cleave through everything that holds us back from his love. And God’s promises are more tried and true than the best treatments the cutting edge of research has to offer. And sometime, someday, though the hair might fall, and the skin color fade, this word of the Lord is forever and ever, AMEN.
In Christ alone, our hope is found.
So wherever you are this week, whatever you’ve asked to be released from, whatever you just can’t possibly do one more time, actually, YOU CAN.
“For when I am weak, then I am strong”…IN CHRIST. [2 Corinthians 12:10]
Thank you so much for stepping into the ER room with me. Until we step into the throne room of our precious Jesus, and I get to meet you, we will take this life as it comes in grace… moment by moment.
TODAY’S GUEST BLOGGER is Ellie Poole Ewoldt, a wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend. Her days are spent in the craziness of caring for four little kids, one of whom is a cancer survivor. www.chaseawaycancer.com
Aug 30
I know those of you who read this blog have many prayers on your heart. Prayers for yourself and prayers for those you love.
The song below is more than a wish–it’s my prayer for you, not just today, but every day. It’s an “old” song I love by Scott Wesley Brown and I’ve posted two different versions–the original with added beautiful photos from nature. And a remake from Scott’s “Out of Africa” CD with no video. Both versions have a long instrumental intro, but don’t give up, the lyrics are coming! (All that “waiting” reminds me that often we pray and don’t see the answers coming nearly as soon as we would like!)
So either enjoy some of God’s beauty or close your eyes and just feel His presence. Either way, please let me “wish”–and pray Jesus for you.
I’m a newspaper reporter-turned-author. And I’m a passionate encourager, but always a truth-teller. I worked for nearly two decades in a unique position as a patient advocate in my oncologist’s office and the Cancer Prayer Support Group I founded in 1991 is the country’s oldest such faith-based group.
