Jul 15

Rescued by God, Granddaughters (& Maybe an Angel)

I am certain that God and my granddaughters rescued me…but I think an angel might have lent a hand, too.

The date was Memorial Day 2024. All three granddaughters had spent the night and were downstairs in our large, finished basement. My husband was in the backyard. Because the girls, sisters Izzy (11) and Callyn (9) were happily playing with cousin Abby (9), I decided to walk on the treadmill located in a small, basement backroom.

I closed the door so I wouldn’t bother them as I did a brisk 5K while watching an old NCIS episode. A few minutes into my exercising I remembered something I forgot to do, so I paused the treadmill, stepped off and went upstairs.

Returning a few moments later, I stood by the treadmill and put my right foot on the belt. I have done this many times and know exactly what happens next: I carefully straddle the running deck by stepping onto the raised sides, attach the safety clip, hold on to both handrails, press start, and wait for the machine to countdown 3-2-1. As it quickly restarts, I step down onto the belt, tightly holding the side rails until my pace matches the treadmill’s.

But that is not what happened.

Instead, without me touching the control screen, the treadmill started up on its own at the 4-mph speed I had been walking. I was thrown backwards and slammed against the wall, which was only a foot from the rear of the machine.

My head kept banging against the wall and I felt like I might pass out. As I lay pinned on my left side, I could feel the skin ripping off my shoulder and my thigh. I tried to move, but couldn’t budge or make a sound.

I honestly thought I was going to die.

In desperation, my spirit cried out: Help me, Jesus! Immediately, a thought came: Get on your right side. Turn onto your right side.

I was sure I couldn’t move, but somehow I turned enough that my head was no longer banging and my flesh was no longer ripping. However, I still couldn’t get up from the fast-moving belt.

I was able to yell “Help!” and after a few muffled screams, the girls came into the room. I was hysterically hollering: “Turn it off! Stop it!” I couldn’t even explain how to do it, but Callyn later told me: “Grandma, I just looked for a button that said ‘STOP’ and I pressed it.”

There are photos of all my wounds, but will spare you. Bottom line: I sustained a fractured rib, several bruised ribs, a swollen ear, plus multiple friction burns, including a 3rd-degree one which has taken a year to heal, leaving a nasty scar.

I shudder to think what might have happened if my granddaughters weren’t in the next room…I truly believe they saved my life.

How I turned onto my right side is a mystery to me. Perhaps an angel? Maybe in Heaven I’ll get that answer. In the meantime, I’ll be eternally grateful that my precious granddaughters were close by and came to my rescue.

And I never will stop crying out to Jesus–even when I can’t utter a word.

Are you or someone you love in a “helpless” situation? Or do you feel “helpless” when you hear the news in our country and our world?

As the song “Cry Out to Jesus” promises: “There is hope for the helpless.”

It might even include an angel.
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Open in your browser to hear “Cry Out to Jesus” by Third Day.

P.S. For those with questions...My treadmill model had almost 900 reports of suddenly starting or stopping, including about 70 with injuries. My injuries were much worse because the rear of the treadmill was too close to the wall, pinning me there. I intended to join one of the lawsuits against the company, but discovered it was extremely unlikely I would ever see a dime. Instead the company reimbursed the full price of the 3-year-old machine and carted it away, along with my rights to any claims against them. I bought a new treadmill with a different operating system and no registered complaints. There’s more than 6-foot clearance behind it and I no longer ever pause it to get off. Also I wear an Apple watch, which detects falls and summons help if needed.

So in the words of radio broadcaster Paul Harvey: “Now you know the rest of the story.” ++++++++++++++++++++++

Jul 01

“I thought I was invincible!”

Terry Musser thought he had it all…until he lost his health and discovered all he had been missing.

“I thought I was invincible,”  the 70-year-old associate real estate broker told me as we recently chatted. “I had commercials on TV and for years was one of the top Realtors in the Tri-County area. I felt like I had everything.”

But when February 2024 rolled around, Terry didn’t feel quite so invincible.

Severe episodes of vomiting led Terry to drive himself to the ER (still feeling slightly invincible!) Doctors determined he was “spewing bile” so they inserted a nasogastric tube and placed two stents in his bile duct. At first, tests did not detect malignancy, but eventually a diagnosis was made: pancreatic cancer spread into nearby lymph nodes.

“They kept saying ‘you have cancer’ and I kept saying ‘no, I don’t’,” Terry recalled. “It was really hard to believe.”

Despite the fact Terry and I live only about 10 miles apart and were attending the same (large) church, we didn’t know one another when he was diagnosed. But then a copy of Peace in the Face of Cancer came in the mail from a stranger in Texas who his sister “happened” to meet. And then a copy of When GOD & Cancer Meet was gifted from a local friend.

Terry’s girlfriend Deb knew of me from our church, so we met and prayed together in the foyer one Sunday.  Shortly after that, Terry had an 8.5-hour Whipple procedure, which removed the head of the pancreas, duodenum, gallbladder and part of the bile duct. (Only about 20-percent of pancreatic cancer patients are candidates for this surgery.)

Terry and I had some heart-to-heart talks and he decided to have the recommended chemo, designed to increase the slim possibility of a cure.

Before his diagnosis, Deb had been trying to get Terry more involved in the church, but he wasn’t interested.

“She was kind of a pain in the butt,” Terry said with a smile. “Even though I was going to church I was minding my own business and just wanted to sit in the back and rush out to an open house at 1 o’clock,” he explained.

No photo description available.

“Team Musser”: Terry & his his real estate agent daughters

“But I kind of feel like the cancer was a gift–of lifestyle change, mind change and heart change,” Terry explained. “I always thought I didn’t need all that, but I was full of myself. 

“I was into yoga and Eastern religions, and I was always searching, searching, searching for something,” he added. “I was a ‘party man,’ but I haven’t had a drink in a year-and-a-half and I don’t miss it.”

Terry’s cancer/faith journey led him to slowing down his “exhausting” lifestyle. He still works when able, but lets his two daughters handle most of his busy agency, which employs another nine agents. He spends time enjoying caring for plants, scenic train rides, playing pickleball, reading inspirational books, attending a weekly men’s Bible study, and memorizing his favorite scripture,  Psalm 23.

“I found real faith and I feel less anxiety now with cancer than I did before without cancer.”

Recently Terry got the discouraging news that cancerous cells have shown up in fluid removed from his abdomen and he has restarted chemo.

“I thought I was put on this earth to help people with the big (real estate) decisions, but now I feel like I’m being kept alive to just help people,” he said. “I have a higher purpose than real estate.”

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Open in your browser to hear the music video “Still Water (Psalm 23) ” by Leanne Crawford, Aspire Christian Music–less than 4 minutes long!

Jun 17

Easy or hard: Which would you choose?

1st grade

3rd grade

It was early fall 1960 and my family recently had moved from Ohio to California.  I loved first-grade in the Buckeye State, but second grade apparently was “boring” in the Golden State where reading and math textbooks were the same ones I already completed.

My mother said I usually walked home from school, didn’t want to talk about anything, and then threw up. I would have suspected the cafeteria food or my tight perm, but  my parents, my teacher, and the principal got together and decided on a course of action.

After work that Friday, Dad sat on the edge of my bed with me. I don’t remember how the conversation started, but I definitely recall how it ended.

“So do you want to stay in second grade and have EASY work? Or go to third grade and have HARD work?”

With just-turned-seven-year-old exuberance, I replied: “I want to go to third grade and have HARD work, Daddy!”

On Monday morning, I took my crayon box out of my desk and marched down the hall to Miss Milford’s class, where I happily found “hard” work and stopped puking.

Pretty sure that was the last time in my life I voluntarily chose hard instead of easy.

Remember those Staples’ “easy” buttons from about 20 years ago? Personally, I would like the phrase “That was easy!” to describe my everyday life! I’m always on the lookout for ways to make life easier–for myself or people I care about. As I pray for the hurting people I know (and myself!), I always hope the answer/healing/resolution comes quickly.

But more often than not, it seems those prayers do not afford me a chance to respond with an “easy” button. Not only does life often not get any easier, sometimes it gets a whole lot harder–with no relief or explanation in sight.

I realize that many of you know exactly what I mean because  I’ve sat with you while you heard bad news. I’ve prayed with you when your world turned upside down. And I’ve cried with you as the worst actually happened.

You and I both know that life has not always been easy for you and your loved ones.

The word “easy” only appears in the Bible nine times–at least in the New Living Translation. Proverbs has a verse about lizards being “easy” to catch and the OldTestament prophet Ezekiel warns that scattered sheep make an “easy” target for predators.

But my favorite “easy” verse is found in Matthew 11:

“Then Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you,
because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.’”

I need to forget about the “easy” button and hoping to make life easy-peasy. Scripture never promises that God won’t give us more than we can handle, but Billy Graham preached and I believe:Billy Graham

“The will of God will not take us where the grace of God cannot sustain us.”

― Billy Graham

A yoke is not designed for one animal and neither were you designed to bear your burdens alone. Let Jesus carry them with you, resting in the sure knowledge that He will not take you where He cannot keep you.
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Open in your browser to hear “Rest for Your Soul” by Austin French.

Jun 03

My Father vs. the Angry Goose

Did I ever tell you about the time my father was attacked on a golf course?

It’s true.

After Dad retired from civil service, he worked part-time at a community course as a ranger traveling the links in a golf cart. A seasoned golfer with a 4-handicap in his younger days, Dad knew he should steer clear of the nesting goose on the course. And thought he was keeping a safe distance from her not-hatched-yet goslings.

But mama goose apparently didn’t agree that he was far enough away, and as he rode by, she circled around and flew straight toward him.  Dad kept thinking that surely she would turn, but instead the goose aimed her sharp beak right between his eyes. At the last second he let go of the wheel and threw up his right arm to protect his face as the goose’s broad wing knocked off his baseball cap. Dad lost control of the cart and ended up capsizing in a shallow stream–much to the amusement of a nearby foursome of young guys, who literally fell to the green in hysterics!

He laughed as he later told me the story, but I was horrified.

“Dad, what if you hadn’t thrown up your arm in time?” I chided him. “Do you know what the newspaper headline would have been the next day?…’Man Goosed to Death on Golf Course’!”

Please excuse my weird sense of humor, but as an ex-newspaper reporter, I’m always thinking about stories and headlines! Anyway, the moral of this story seems to be that Mother Goose will do whatever needs to be done to protect her family!

Mother hens do likewise. Have you ever watched one clucking and spreading her wings as she tried to safely gather her chicks when a dangerous storm or predator approached?

Did you know that Jesus once described Himself as a mother hen? In Matthew 23:37 we read:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers!
How often I have wanted to gather your children together
as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let Me.”  (emphasis mine)

As Jesus looked over the city of Jerusalem, He knew that He was the answer to the longings of Jewish hearts, but the people didn’t want to hear it. Like a protective, loving parent, the Lord longed to draw these folks close and keep them safe, but they wouldn’t let Him.

Can you feel those “wings” over you today–protecting you, shielding you, trying to draw you close?

Even if you can’t, I promise you they are there.

The eternal God is your refuge, and His everlasting arms are under you.–Deuteronomy 33:27

He will cover you with His feathers.
    He will shelter you with His wings.
    His faithful promises are your armor and protection.-–Psalm 91:4

Yes, I know that bad things still happen to us and those we love. And yes, I know that unfair circumstances often are forced upon us. But I also know that even in the midst of this fallen world, God’s love cannot let us go.

Below are two favorite photos of my dad. In one he is safely holding 2-year-old me at the edge of Niagra Falls and in the other he meets and cradles his firstborn grandchild. Even if you don’t have happy memories of your earthly Father’s arms protecting and shielding you, today you can start experiencing that peace in your Heavenly Father’s arms as you draw close and let Him love you.

(Please open in your browser to enjoy the beautiful song “Under His Wings (Psalm 91) by Tom Mottershead.)

May 20

Celebration Time: My Oncologist has cancer Part 13

Well, the milestone that no physician thought possible–but for which family, friends and patients prayed–is here.

Tomorrow, May 22, 2025, is the fifth anniversary of Dr. Marc Hirsh’s diagnosis of a stage 4 very rare neuroendocrine tumor of the thymus!

Marc doesn’t have a party planned–life itself is enough of a celebration for him.

He and wife Elizabeth–plus Golden Retriever Boondock–recently returned from two weeks of traveling south in their camper van–a trip that  seemed impossible five years ago.

Marc clearly remembers how he felt when diagnosed at age 69.

“When I saw  that it had invaded into my heart and was in my lung, I was pretty pessimistic,” he recalls. “I was having a lot of trouble breathing, short of breath and in a lot of pain. In the hospital when Elizabeth asked me if it was curable, I told her I probably would be dead in three weeks.”

The “lowest point” emotionally came during his appointment with an oncologist at Johns Hopkins, where Marc was “very hopeful” he would learn something optimistic.

Instead, the doctor recommended an extremely toxic chemotherapy regimen which had “no data that it was curative.”

“I still have the oncologist’s report…and it said that if I didn’t do what they said, I’d be dead soon.”

But Marc refused the recommended treatment.

“I knew how incredibly toxic it was and I knew how weak I was,” Marc explains. “I knew how immuno-supressed I’d be and we were in the middle of COVID. I likely would have had to spend a lot of time in the hospital and the virus easily could have killed me.”

Instead he devised his own protocol of radiation/hormone therapy/oral chemo and what had been a grapefruit-sized tumor was the size of a lime at his check-up last year.

Last week on their trip, Marc celebrated his 74th birthday with a quick stop to purchase the “State Dessert of Maryland.”

“I bought myself a Smith Island Cake and I froze it and am eating a piece every day,” he confesses with a smile.

Elizabeth added that “he’s eating it all by himself” as she  gave up  sweets decades ago!

Marc says the realization that he might not quickly die from the cancer has dawned slowly.

“After about two or three years of (the tumor) being completely stable or slightly smaller. I started thinking I might actually be cured and there’s no active tumor left,” Marc explains.

“But I’m under no illusion,” he continues, “that the cancer definitely will never come back. I have a check-up June 10 so we will see how it looks.”

In the meantime, he has joined the local senior center’s twice-weekly over-60 basketball league.

“My wind is not what it used to be and the games are pretty intense and exhausting, but I’m enjoying it.”

When I asked Marc if he had any encouragement for those facing daunting health circumstances, he replied: “No matter what the so-called experts say, there are exceptions to generalities.

“Keep living for the moment, each day, each hour, each minute, and try to find meaning and joy no matter what the situation.”

Marc, who for 30+ years has shared his faith as a Jew who believes in Jesus as Messiah, says his diagnosis reminded him that others would see whether his actions were consistent with his words.

“I knew I had the opportunity to be courageous and to live life to the fullest,” he adds. “I could be an example of how to deal with what life hands you.”

(Life has handed Elizabeth a challenge, too, as she was diagnosed in 2023 with Parkinson’s Disease and needs Marc’s assistance with tasks she no longer can do.)

And at this 5-year milestone, for what is Marc most thankful?

“I’m incredibly grateful to God that He allowed me to be here for Elizabeth after all she’s done for me.”

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Open in your browser to hear Rich Mullins, Marc and Elizabeth’s favorite Christian artist, sing “Awesome God.” It seems appropriate on this 5-year “Cancerversary” to acknowledge our awesome God, and Rich sitting at the piano sharing a little about his faith before he sings reminds me of what Marc has done at our prayer support group concerts for the past three decades.