Category: peace

Nov 26

When Life is “One Holy, Messy Struggle”

Weary…I’m guessing either you feel it or someone you love does.

I looked up  the word “weary” in my little Random House pocket dictionary of synonyms and antonyms I’ve had since my college journalism days and synonyms include: exhausted, tired, fatigued, spent, impatient, dissatisfied, tedious, and irksome.

Any of those describe you or your loved one these days?

There are so many things for which I’m grateful, like grandkids nearby (with a cuddly new family member!). And yet there are so many hurts piling up.  A cousin enduring chemo; another one awaiting biopsy results. Friends burying their young son. Marriages on the verge of break-up. Christians without compassion for others created in God’s image. A massive stroke paralyzing a wonderful husband and father. And six months of pain/doctors/scans/therapies after my “treadmill takedown.” (But that’s a story for another blog.)

If I‘m honest, I’m sad and grieving in the midst of Thanksgiving week. Yes, I am weary.

Shannon Adducci, a self-described “wife, mom, singer-songwriter, worship leader, trauma-survivor, mountain-lover, and Christ-follower,” once blogged about her emotional struggles:

“I have been programmed through the years to think I should just be able to choose gratitude at all times and, in every instance, flip weariness or sadness on its head and replace it with the spirit of joy – with the help of a handy, hip-pocket Scripture, of course!

“And, certainly, there is a place for simply choosing joy and gratitude. I do it often. But it also is incredibly important to honor the deep emotions we might be experiencing, lest they fester unattended and infect our souls.

“So, what if it doesn’t have to be one or the other of these? Not joy instead of sadness. Or recovery in lieu of grief. Or breakthrough eclipsing stuck-ness. What if it is actually OK to be in it all at the same time? …

“What if it could all be one holy, messy struggle and me not feel guilty about it?...

“So, here’s the good news…Even in my utter weariness, Jesus offers me an invitation and not a rejection slip. ‘Come to me,’ He whispers. ‘Not after you recover, but in order to recover.’

“Jesus fully and gently acknowledges exactly where you and I are and encourages us to hang out with Him in our most depleted state.” *

Let’s cling to the truth in the words of the beautiful Christmas hymn, O Holy Night written in 1847 by Adolphe Adam:

Long lay the world in sin and error pining
‘Til He appears and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees; O hear the Angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born
O night, O Holy night, O night divine!

Thank You, Lord, for coming to our weary world and calling us into Your presence where we can find rest.

*©2020 Shannon Adducci. Bold emphasis mine.
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Open in your browser to hear the encouraging words in Shannon Wexelberg Adducci’s song “Whole Heart.”

 

Nov 12

“I just felt really called into loving people with cancer”

When Tom Wilkinson* was diagnosed in 2008 with stage 4 head and neck cancer, he never imagined that God soon would use him to encourage his oldest daughter on her own cancer journey.

“He’s my hero,” says Joanna Dennstaedt, second in a family of six born to Tom and Dee Wilkinson.  “He was the voice of reason and wisdom for me through it all.”

Joanna–“Jo” to her friends–was devastated in 2014 to get the diagnosis of stage 3 melanoma at the age of 34. Her four children were only 7, 5, 3, and 15 months. Two surgeries, including a complete groin lymph node dissection knocked her off her feet before she even started chemo.

The scheduled treatment was a year-long, weekly immunotherapy drug called Interferon, which had such tough side effects patients were normally hospitalized for the infusions and few could tolerate it for 12 months.

“I made it almost 10 months before it was killing me,” Jo recalls. “My liver was shot, my thyroid was shot and I started panicking.

“I was probably rock bottom and I kept thinking ‘I’m not going to get to raise my kids”,” she adds.

Me speaking at the 2024 Radiant Hope banquet

About that time she met a woman named Ivelisse Page who through her nonprofit Believe Big https://www.believebig.org/ helped Jo find a naturopathic doctor and get complementary treatments to help heal her body. She also gave her a copy of my book 50 Days of Hope.

And then one day a beautiful “sunshine” package showed up from an anonymous person in another state, who had been reading Jo’s blog.  The enclosed note explained that the sender and her co-workers “put this box together and prayed for you.”

That’s when Jo knew.

“Why am I not doing this for others?” she asked herself. “I knew I needed to get outside of Jo.”

And the vision for Radiant Hope was birthed–months after Jo’s dad encouraged her not to “waste” her cancer and instead believe God could use “all the good and the hard.”

God confirmed Jo’s idea while at the cancer center one day He spoke to her heart: “You’re not here for you; you’re here for Me.”

“I just felt really called into loving people with cancer,” Jo explains.

And that she has.

In the nine years since the nonprofit https://www.radianthope.com/ was established in Mechanicsburg, PA, it has:

  • Served more than 7,000 people in 387 Pennsylvania counties
  • Given away 5,000+ “HOPE” boxes, which include a copy of 50 Days of Hope
  • Handed out 2,000+ water bottles at cancer treatment centers
  • Provided respite care, scholarships, holiday gifts, one-on-one mentoring, celebrations, family photos and a cancer support group

“I never really wanted to start a nonprofit,” Jo admits. “I didn’t take a single business class in college, so I was wondering what was God calling me into?”

But now she realizes that “cancer has prepared me well to serve others.”

“Radiant Hope started out of my healing journey,” Jo explains. “All I did was say ‘yes’ and God did all the rest.”

“Cancer itself is not a gift, but there are so many little gifts that come out of it along the way,” Jo says. “I thought when my Dad had cancer that it was going to be the worst thing ever, but instead we could walk through my cancer journey together.

“Now I walk with others and encourage them just like he did for me.”

*(If you missed Tom’s story, read my last blog on 10-29.)
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Open in your browser to hear “Wings”  (based on Psalm 91) by Lauren Daigle.

Sep 24

“If I had known…”

Izzy (R), cousin Abby (center) and sister Callyn (L)

On Labor Day weekend after a fun-filled family day of kayaking, paddle boarding and picnicking at a nearby state park, our oldest granddaughter started complaining about stomach pain. Just a few days shy of her 12th birthday, Izzy couldn’t sleep that Saturday night and kept waking her parents seeking pain-relief.

No fever, no other symptoms. Did she “drink” too much lake water as she lay on the paddle board and the refreshing waves splashed her face? Had she eaten something at our BBQ that didn’t agree with her?

On Sunday morning she threw up and pleaded to go to urgent care where mom Bethany quickly took her (I know vomit is the proper word, but it gives me the heebie-jeebies).

Nothing showed during the exam at urgent care, but the doc recommended they go to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia urgent care center in nearby King of Prussia to get an ultrasound and rule out appendicitis.

A few long hours later, Izzy was scheduled for admittance at CHOP so she could have her appendix removed in the morning.

“I was very nervous because I never had surgery before,” Izzy admits. “Everyone kept saying it would be OK, but I didn’t know that for sure and I was worried.”

And then what happened next really surprised her.

Post-surgery FaceTime

“My room was really cool and they wrote on a whiteboard ‘WELCOME IZZY!’,” she recalls. “There was a snack room and the nurses gave me chocolate ice cream. And there was a playroom and my Daddy and I played Rummikub, and if you took a paperback book to read, you could keep it!

“My Daddy stayed until I fell asleep and then Mommy came back,” Izzy adds. “The nurses were really nice and they checked on me all night.”

Shortly after her successful one-hour laparoscopic surgery, we FaceTimed with Izzy and she made this observation: “If I had known how great it was going to be, I never would have been afraid.”

That comment started me thinking about fear of the unknown, which led to pondering my eventual journey to Heaven (which, for all of us gets closer every day!) I turned 71 yesterday and if I’m truly honest, I have some apprehension, some concern…dare I say, a little  fear about some of the unknowns?

What will my earthly passing be like? How does it feel to be transported out of this body? What will Heaven REALLY be like?

“I imagine our first glimpse of Heaven will cause us to…gasp in amazement and delight,” writes Randy Alcorn in his book Heaven. “That first gasp will likely be followed by many more as we continually encounter new sights in that endlessly wonderful place.”

Maybe there will be a white board inscribed ‘WELCOME LYNN!” And I’m sure there will be really good snacks and really nice people.

Alcorn goes on to describe our first moments in Heaven like this:
“Now you see someone coming toward you. It’s Jesus, with a big smile on His face. You fall to your knees in worship. He pulls you up and embraces you. At last you are with the person you were made for, in the place you were made to be.”

And like my wise granddaughter, I imagine I will say “If I had known how great this was  going to be, I never would have been afraid!”

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him. 
1 Corinthians 2:9

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Please open in browser to hear the music video “I Can Only Imagine” ©Mercy Me.

Aug 27

Navigating the Storms of Life

Photos NOT from the fateful voyage!

Many years ago my husband  and I had plans with my then-boss, Dr. Marc Hirsh and his wife Elizabeth to cruise to a marina on Maryland’s eastern shore for our annual Labor Day weekend getaway on their 32-two-foot Bayliner.

The weather looked rather foul, but Elizabeth had checked with her brother who lives right on the Gunpowder River leading into the Chesapeake Bay, and he assured us the reports didn’t look that bad despite a hurricane that was heading northward up the coast. (We later learned he had accidentally listened to the wrong forecast!)

Even though Marc and Elizabeth were seasoned boaters,  the whitecaps on the usually calm river should have been our first clue it wasn’t a good idea to head out. We had a short two-hour cruise ahead of us, but it wasn’t long before the white caps turned into three-foot waves. The wind whipped up, and then the thunder, lightning, and rain came. At first we all laughed and enjoyed the warm rain soaking us as the boat pounded through the waves.

But then I stopped laughing and my stomach started rebelling. Elizabeth handed me a supply of Ziploc bags, which I started filling.

The waves were now five feet high and crashing clear over the top of the boat’s windshield, drenching us. It was nearly impossible for Marc to see out the rain-splattered windshield, and my husband and Elizabeth were trying to read the navigational charts and look for the numbered buoys, which would keep us in the correct channel away from large shipping vessels, shallow water, and crab pots.

We were too far out to turn back toward home, yet not sure we could make it to our planned destination.

And then it got really bad.

Marc announced that according to the boat’s compass we were headed in exactly the wrong direction: south when we should have been heading north.

We all were sure we hadn’t turned around—Elizabeth was especially positive that she would have noticed if the boat had made an about-face. From past experience I knew she usually was right whenever the two of them had a boating disagreement.

The three of us looked at Marc, waiting to see what he would do. (Well, I didn’t look long because I was busy praying there were enough Ziploc bags.)

After a long pause, Marc posed his now-famous question: “Should I trust my wife . . . or the magnetic poles of the earth?”

It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d gone with Elizabeth’s feelings because she was so adamant about them, but his scientific brain won out and Marc turned the boat 180 degrees.

Within a few moments, buoys were sighted which confirmed that we, indeed, had been going in the wrong direction despite all of us “feeling” otherwise.

The storm raging around us had distorted reality and our feelings had fallen fickle.

The same thing can happen in the storms of life. We can feel as if we’re unable to cope or that we have no hope. In those times we need a compass—something that always will steer us in the right direction.

A magnetic compass always will point you to the North Pole, and God’s Word always will point you to His unchanging truths and promises.

“The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.”  Isaiah 40:8

Like Marc as he captained our boat that stormy trip, it’s your choice–and mine–whether or not to trust the magnetic poles of the earth. Life’s trials may distort reality, but there is a deeper spiritual reality that always an be trusted.

Excerpted from When God & Grief Meet. Copyright © 2009 by Lynn Eib. All rights reserved.
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Aug 13

How Anger Evolved into Peace

The early days of the pandemic were pretty tough on everybody, especially those–like my friend Erin–dealing with serious health issues.

“After months of doctors dismissing my symptoms, they worsened in April 2020,” recalls Erin, who was 42 and experiencing abdominal pain with occasional fevers. “I had a few Zoom visits–because of COVID, I couldn’t get anyone to see me. They kept saying the symptoms were from COVID, which I didn’t think they were, but no one would listen.”

Finally on Aug. 21, 2020–her 43rd birthday–surgery was scheduled at Johns Hopkins, near her Maryland home.  CT scans had revealed an infection and doctors expected to treat a diverticulitis abscess.

“But I woke up from surgery to hear they found a tumor in my sigmoid colon and a hysterectomy was needed because of widespread infection inflammation,” Erin says. “I was a very healthy woman who had taken good care of myself, but I became a crumbled, devastated mess.”

Erin, a wife and mother of three–aged 10, 13, and 15 at the time– says she was “terrified” when she heard the news, including the fact cancer had spread to three lymph nodes and she would need six months of weekly chemo.

Erin’s family 2020

“Everything was spiraling out of control and it all felt very unfair.”

Having a life-threatening illness was especially traumatic because her only sibling–younger brother Dominic–died in 2004 from a drug overdose at age 23.

“I was worried about my kids, my husband and my parents,” she explains. “I’ve already lost my brother; they’ve already lost their son. Hasn’t our family had enough tragedy?”

Erin and my paths first crossed in November 2020 when she messaged me on Facebook, thanking me for how helpful 50 Days of Hope had been. Shortly after that, she joined my Moms’ Cancer Prayer Support Group  on Zoom and garnered a bit of relief for the isolation she felt.

However, chemo was tough for Erin–her fingers peeled so much she couldn’t open her cell phone by touch, and she lost all her hair–despite the nurses’ assurance that never happened with her treatment regimen!

Then 22 months after her diagnosis, a blood test revealed abnormalities. Follow-up scans showed an 8mm (pea-size) tumor on her liver.

Erin, a businesswoman https://www.erinpelicano.com with an engineering degree, found the new diagnosis “more devastating” than the first one.

“I have a brain for numbers and everything added up to stage 4 disease that I probably  wouldn’t survive,” she recalls.

In July 2022 she had surgery to remove the small spot, followed by complementary treatments intended to boost her immune system.

When I asked her how this roller coaster ride has affected her spiritual faith, she says it has “evolved.”

“At first I was incredibly angry with God because we had lost my brother and I had tried to be a good person and do the right thing. And I kept looking for someone to give me the reassurance that I was going to be alright, but no one would.

“Eventually I realized I had to lean on God and prayer to provide me peace in my day,” she explains. “I didn’t want to die young, but I came to a sense of peace after so much anger.”

And that peace came even before she sent me this text last month.

Erin says she continues to encourage others not to ignore their symptoms because “you know your body.”

“I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t get doctors to listen to me. I think God can speak through our instincts,” she adds. “Don’t doubt yourself–fight for answers!”

Erin is committed to hearing truth everyday, so at 10 AM her favorite Bible verse pops up on her cell with some very wise words for the weary:

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Open in your browser to hear “In the Valley” by CityAlight and featuring Sandra McCracken.