Category: joy

Sep 30

A Messy Diaper and Sore Finger Road

When our  oldest daughter was six months old, we took her on a three-week car trip out West with my parents. She was a model passenger…well, almost.

I had just finished nursing Danielle while riding in the backseat on a lonesome stretch of desert. I was burping her on my lap before putting her back in her carseat when she let loose with more than her disposable diaper could contain. (Did I mention I was wearing white slacks because we were going to eat at the Officers’ Club when we reached our destination?)

My dad stopped on the first side road he saw, so that I could change Danielle (diaper and outfit), as well as wipe off my no-longer-white slacks. And that’s when he noticed the street sign: Sore Finger Road.

It seemed like such a funny name out in the middle of the desert that we all just started laughing. From then on, every messy diaper was judged by whether or not it was “Sore Finger Road” worthy.

Poop happens.

At predictable times, at inconvenient times, sometimes too many times, occasionally not enough times…but it happens.

As a 36-year colorectal cancer survivor, I’m probably a little more obsessed with this topic than most people. But I got the idea to blog about it when I heard songwriter-musician Tim Timmons https://www.timtimmonsmusic.com give his “Poop Happens” talk when we both spoke at a Bob Goff cancer survivor retreat in 2023.

Tim–now a 25-year survivor of stage 4, incurable cancer– described how manure actually is extremely beneficial.

It  softens compacted soil.
It improves crop yield.
It produces oxygen which helps soil breathe.
Adding manure to soil reduces runoff because it “holds together the good stuff and lets the bad stuff go,” as Tim explained.

If you’ve ever driven by farmland in the spring, you probably got a not-so-pleasant whiff of manure doing its job!

But poop doesn’t just happen literally. It happens figuratively too, doesn’t it?

Something occurs in our life–or the life of someone we care about–and it really stinks! As NY Times bestselling author Rick Warren puts it, “Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you’re just coming out of one, or you’re getting ready to go into another one.”

So true!  And if you’re like me, your first response is to want the “stink” gone…and fast!

Tim acknowledges that before cancer, he lived most of his life “trying to stop manure.”

“I was trying to keep my comfort…but now I ask: ‘What’s it revealing about the condition of my heart?'”

Since hearing Tim’s message, I’ve been trying to view the “manure” getting dumped on my life as a way God can soften my heart and help me hang on to the really important, good stuff.

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance.
 And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.
—Romans 5:3-4

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.
–James 1:2-3

How about you, my friend…any “manure-dumping” going in your life? I pray you and I both can allow it to soften our hearts to the goodness of the Lord and in Him find our joy.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Open in your browser to hear “This is the Day,” a very short, upbeat, encouraging song by Tim Timmons © 2021 Integrity Music . (It’s a perfect song to sing any day…even when “poop happens!”)

 

 

Sep 02

Celebrating My Favorite Octogenarian!

I vaguely remember when my maternal grandparents turned 80 and somewhat recollect when each of my parents reached that  milestone. But what I distinctly recall is that they all were really old!

So why isn’t my husband old as he hits the big 8-0 tomorrow?

He certainly doesn’t look his age and honestly, he has less physical ailments than I do, even though I’m seven years younger. Despite his youthful appearance and early morning daily workouts at the Y, Ralph acknowledges this birthday feels “tougher” than all the other ones because it “sounds old.”

As I tried to figure out a present which could convey how thankful and proud I am of this guy, I might have mentioned to a few people all over the country that sending a birthday card would be nice.

And I may have colluded with his men’s Bible study so they could gift him a stay at a beautiful resort where he can go fly fishing.

And I conceivably could have a family party planned with all the kids and grands this weekend.

But I want to do something more.

So will you indulge me for a few moments as I celebrate my favorite octogenarian?

My husband was born in Scranton, PA, “just like Joe Biden” as he likes to point out.

He was the only child of older parents. “I think Mom finally proposed to Dad after they dated about 15 years,” Ralph says, adding that he thinks he “might have been the second virgin birth.”

He graduated from Eastern Baptist College near Philly with a student body at the time of  525–about 75 people less than my math class at the Ohio State University.

After a sledding accident in college landed him in the hospital with a concussion, he felt “called” to become a pastor. In May of 1973, I accompanied him to his seminary M.Div. graduation in Massachusetts.  A month later, he proposed.

We only had been dating two months after meeting on a blind date, but we waited a whopping six more months more before tying the knot.

Ralph spent more than 30 years pastoring three congregations, including planting an American Baptist church in 1983, which still serves the Lord today. I wish I’d kept track of all the joyful baptisms he did. And he absolutely does the best weddings and funerals.

After retiring, he spent 10 years designing and selling church buildings. Since I retired in 2015, he takes care of many household duties –besides all his beautiful flowers outside–enabling me to have more time for writing and my cancer support ministry.

As the family patriarch, my hubby always texts an encouraging Bible verse prayer to family members each week.

At Refuge Church he’s the oldest member and still volunteers for remodeling and clean-up tasks at our new congregation’s future meeting place. He’s still as handsome as ever and he still makes me laugh–which I definitely need more of!

Shortly before we met, I made a decision that the only reason I would marry someone was if I believed that together we could serve God better than either of us could separately.

I believe that is exactly what has happened for the past almost 53 years.

And I expect it will continue…with my favorite octogenarian. Hopefully, ’til he’s 100 and I’m only 93.

I will be your God throughout your lifetime—
until your hair is white with age. Isaiah 46:4

The song below is my blessing for my wonderful husband. Perhaps you’d like to join me in praying it over him and your family as well. (Be sure to open in your browser to hear this 3 ¾-minute version of “The Blessing” by Cody Carnes and Kari Jobe.)

 

 

 

Jul 01

Celebrating as Much Life A.C. as B.C.

There’s quite a big anniversary being celebrated this week.

No, I’m not thinking of the  exciting 250th anniversary of our nation’s birth on Independence Day, July 4.

For me personally, an even more momentous anniversary occurs two days earlier. July 2 is the 36th anniversary of my surgery to remove Stage 3 colon cancer, diagnosed when I was 36 years old.

That’s right, I will have lived as long A.C. (After Cancer) as I did B.C. (Before Cancer).

Wow…so many emotions and memories swirling in my 72-year-old brain.

Without cancer I wouldn’t have developed a deep friendship with my oncologist, Dr. Marc Hirsh and his wife Elizabeth (pictured at this year’s Pink Out fundraiser for cancer patients).

Without cancer I wouldn’t have been an oncology patient advocate offering free emotional and spiritual support to thousands of patients and their caregivers for almost two decades.

Without cancer I wouldn’t have become a bestselling author of multiple books published by Tyndale House.

Without cancer I wouldn’t have met many of you.

And without cancer, I might not have learned how very wrong I was about God.

Back in 1990 from my hospital bed, the future looked bleak.

My chance of survival was maybe 40-percent. Odds were that my wonderful husband, whose first wife died from ALS, would bury another spouse. Chances were my sweet daughters would grow up without a Mommy.

Feeling afraid and overwhelmed, I fumed to God: “You are making a really big mistake here. And there’s nothing You can ever do to make up for this because it is too awful.”

But I was the one who was making a really big mistake. Even though I had been a Christ-follower since 1972…I was limiting God’s power to my meager human understanding.

My hope was just to see my daughters, then ages 8, 10 and 12, grow up. Instead I have had the precious privilege not only of seeing them mature into beautiful adults, but of getting to know and love seven amazing grandchildren, ages 8-15.

Thirty-six years ago I simply wanted to get well quickly. Instead God allowed me to suffer through my treatment (constantly nauseous and allergic to the primary chemo drug) so that I might be equipped to minister to suffering people–hundreds of thousands, according to my book sales.

My desire was to put my cancer ordeal behind me and return to a normal, happy life. Instead this disease has been a main focus of my life for more than three decades as God continues to show me that He “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us.”  (Ephesians 3:20)

I am so humbled to see how the Lord has used me in spite of me and how He has used my cancer story for His glory. I don’t know why He allowed me to “beat the odds,” but of this, I am certain:

“The voices of a million angels could not express my gratitude.
All that I am and ever hope to be, I owe it all to Thee.” (Andrae Crouch ©1971)

As you celebrate America’s 250th anniversary, I hope you will join me in praising God for my 36th  “cancerversary.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Please open in your browser to hear (and perhaps sing along to) “My Tribute (To God be the Glory)” with Natalie Grant and CeCe Winans.

&nbsp

Feb 25

The Day Tim Timmons Left Me Speechless

L. to R. Tim, Bob, me, Taylor Hughes

In the summer of 2023, I had the incredible privilege of meeting and sharing the stage with a musician-cancer survivor of whom I had never heard: Tim Timmons. We both were speakers for a three-day cancer survivors’ retreat held at NYT bestselling author Bob Goff’s southern California conference center.

Personally, as a longtime colon cancer survivor, Tim had my full attention when he spoke about how “Poop Happens!” When he sang his debut number, Cast My Cares, I knew I had found a new musical prayer. And when he shared that he was a 20+-year survivor of a rare, incurable cancer, diagnosed at age 25 and now the father of four, my heart felt a special connection.

But it was when he told a true story that I absolutely fell apart.

Tim shared how he’d written and recorded a song he thought was “really good,” but his record label did not agree. Eventually, he and his best friend, Bart Millard (lead singer for MercyMe) rewrote and recorded it on the band’s label.

And then for the 35 of us cancer survivors in the room, Tim played and sang the song…Even If.

I stood to my feet, lifted my hands and sang my heart out. I had no idea Tim had the initial inspiration for my favorite song…the one with which I closed all my “Morning of Hope” seminars. The one that always leads me to bask in holy presence. And now God had allowed me to know the song’s story and meet its creator.

Scheduled to speak next, I went on stage, but was sobbing so hard I was speechless.

“I’m wrecked,” I whispered to Tim as he hugged me.

And why am I sharing this personal story today?

Because if you’re seeking a word to the weary for yourself or someone you love, I’m recommending you go meet Tim Timmons…at the movies!

Last week my husband and I saw the new release I Can Only Imagine 2, starring Milo Ventimiglia (This is Us, Gilmore Girls) as Tim. (It was my first time at the local Movie Tavern, where the plush seats fully recline and when you press a little button, a nice young man brings you food and drink. Who knew???)

Anyway, I went through two or three tissues and I could hear my husband sniffling next to me. Tears of sadness and joy. Goosebumps of God’s goodness. Infusions of faith.

We both were a whole lot less weary.

If you can’t get to the movie theater, Tim has other ways to encourage you, including his weekly podcast https://www.10000minutes.com/ which discusses practical ways to “realign our lives with the way and heart of Jesus.” (You also can sign up for uplifting text messages and view short videos to help feel God’s nearness. And find Tim’s music at https://www.timtimmonsmusic.com/ )

When Tim was diagnosed in 2001, doctors gave him five years to live. He turned 50 this month and next week is the release of his book, Waking Up Again: A Journey of Grief & Gratitude, co-authored with wife Hilary.

The authors say: “This is not a book about cancer. It is about how to embrace the gift of waking up each day, knowing the presence of Jesus in times of sorrow, and His faithfulness when the future feels fragile.”

Tim Timmons has been waking up on “borrowed” time for more than two decades. Every day he takes a black marker and makes an “X” on his right wrist, reminding himself that he’s been given the gift of another day.

I hope you’ll let his words/music/life “wreck” your weary heart with God’s love for you today.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Open in your browser to hear Make it Well, the newest MercyMe song, co-written by  Bart Millard / Ethan Hulse / Tim Timmons https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLrF-ml7uks

Jan 28

Riding a “Blue Trail”

Christmas ’59

It was the fall of 1969 during my senior year of high school and my family was newly attending a small church in Apple Valley, California. One Sunday morning the four of us traipsed into the little sanctuary toward a partially filled row. My eighth-grade brother Jim tried to squirm past me to get to the row first. Like a typical, annoyed older sister, I insisted he sit by Dad like he always did.

After we were seated, I silently snickered as I, the cool, know-it-all teenager, sized-up the man on my left: cowboy boots; bolo tie; gold wristwatch with big red gems and a bear head. Looks like a real country hick.

I finally glanced at his face and whispered to my little brother, “Doesn’t this guy look like Roy Rogers if Roy Rogers was really old?”

My brother’s bony elbow jabbed my ribs as he loudly whispered back, “You stupid, that is Roy Rogers!”

I gulped, scooted my chair closer to our childhood idol, and when Roy offered to share his hymnal with me, I held a corner of it and sang my heart out with the King of Cowboys![1]

I hope you know the “Happy Trails” melody which signed off TV episodes of the Roy Rogers Show.[2] It’s a soothing, feel good song, which seems rather inappropriate for a word to the weary:

 “Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails to you, keep smilin’ until then.
Who cares about the clouds when we’re together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.”

But listen to the song’s second verse:

“Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue.”

Roy and Dale, married for 50 years, had plenty of “blue” trails—three prior, short, failed marriages for Dale beginning at age 14; the death in childbirth of Roy’s first wife; the death from mumps’ complications of toddler daughter Robin (with Down Syndrome); and the deaths of two of their adopted children—12-year-old Debbie in a bus accident; and son Sandy, who choked to death while serving in the U.S. Army. [3]

I can only imagine how many times this couple reminded themselves of the rest of that verse:

“It’s the way you ride the trail that counts.”

Faith and perseverance were the way Roy and Dale rode all those “blue” trails– the ones we know about…and all the ones the public never saw.

I don’t know if the couple ever saw this quote from Dutch Holocaust survivor Corrie Ten Boom, but I am certain they experienced her words:

Your trail might be blue, or grey…or even a coal-black pit, but I believe with all my heart that God’s love for you and your loved one always is deeper still.  When you “ride” life’s trails (or should I say TRIALS?) trusting in the Lord, He will shelter and protect your aching heart.

“His house is my shelter and secret retreat.
It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil.
Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God.
He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.” Psalm 27:5 The Voice Bible

Happy Trails–of shelter, peace and safety–to you, my friend…until we meet again.

+++++++++++Excerpted from Peace in the Face of Cancer ©Lynn Eib 2017++++++++++++++++++

[1] I laugh whenever I recall this incident because I’ve looked up Roy’s birthdate and know he was about to turn 58– obviously “really old” to my almost 16-year-old eyes!

[2] You can listen to the original version with Roy, Dale and Roy Rogers Jr. “Dusty” online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgw_yprN_-w

{3] Together Roy and Dale raised nine biological/adopted children, including Dodie, who was in the church’s youth group with me, but we weren’t friends until FB. 🙂 She is Choctaw Native American and Roy had that same heritage on his mother’s side.

Open https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLfnDrK4eJs&list=RDqLfnDrK4eJs&start_radio=1 in your browser to hear “Psalm 27 (The Lord is My Light)”  ©2024 Getty Music Hymns and Songs (ASCAP), Getty Music Publishing (BMI), Jordan Kauflin Music (BMI), Laura’s Stories and Songs (ASCAP), Matt Merker Music (BMI) (all adm at CapitolCMGPublishing.com)