At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us. Albert Schweitzer
The collage below is part of the "rekindled spark" I have felt over the past few days. From cards with heartfelt messages, to books, to the beautiful prayer bracelet (it has a small box on it to enclose a written prayer and carry it with you- love it!), to the anonymous and completely beyond generous donation inside the blank envelope without a hint of where it came from, to the also beyond generous gift from a friend and her brilliantly funny card, to the box from Hawaii (via Houston) with more lotion-love, I spent my morning, basking in the gratitude that overflowed in my heart, spilling into the words I wrote in thank you notes that I mailed yesterday. It. felt. good.
I do perhaps, need to grow my vocabulary. Just how do you say thank you that fully conveys the explosion that happens in your heart every time thoughtfulness and selfless generosity parades through your door?
I whisper almost continuously, "make me worthy, Lord, make me worthy of so much abundance." "Help us pay it forward. Keep my hands open to both receive and not grab too tightly so that I may give in proportion to what I receive."
You see, its all in the choosing. Every day really. And I forget sometimes I have the ability to do so. To choose. Not so much what happens to me. But how I will deal with it. I just have to choose. Just like our Gitzen Girl, Sara, taught us. (If you are new around here- my sweet friend Sara's story is not one to miss out on. She has been in her heavenly home nearly two years now, but her story lives on in so many of us.)
My friend, Gitzen Girl came across my radar in the most unusual way the other night. Through Instagram. Now I am fairly certain Instagram arrived on the scene long after she went to her heavenly home, but not only does she have an account? But its followed by hundreds of people. No posts from her, no photos, just a legacy that makes people want to include her still, to be in community with her. Much in the way many have had her tag line, "choose joy," tattooed onto them. This is one of the tattoos- in Sara's replicated handwriting that she graciously shared with us.
I don't have a tattoo, other than two circles, dots really, they made on my chest to line me up for radiation to my spine last year. They don't really count as "tats." But if I were ever off chemo and my skin were of the healing variety, I would get a "choose joy" tat.
Sara defined joy as this "Joy: the unwavering trust that God knows what He’s doing and has blessed me with the opportunity to be a part of it… not despite what’s happening in my life but because of it. When everything earthly feels heavy He gives me an internal lightness that can’t be touched."
Amen to that. Now I just need to remember that the other word is equally important.
Last week, I struggled with my ability to choose.
This week- I'm all the way in- choosing joy. Choosing gratitude. Choosing life.
I saw Dr. P on Tuesday. I was on my own as Rick was busy with work. My platelets have dropped a little, but the rest of my blood work looks stable. I will continue on with 4 pills of Tykerb daily and we'll scan again in a few months. I will have a brain mri next week to check and see if the targeted therapy to my brain worked.
Rather spontaneously, in the midst of discussing my case, Dr. P looks at me and says "so you are a writer? You've been published? Magazines? And you have a blog?"
I rather sheepishly respond in the affirmative.
He goes on to say "People keep telling me these things about you, and I feel as though suddenly I barely know you!"
I share with him he is rather "famous." And that its "all good." He slowly smiles, and says "thank you." I think its fair to say, he truly has no idea. I also think that is totally fine.
And then in the way that makes me admire him so- we dove right back into discussing my case.