"It is well with my soul."

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Each day, I've been praying to just turn the corner.  To somehow "go back" to feeling well. To be that mom, that friend, that wife, I long to become once again.  

But after a few days of recovering from my 3 chemo cocktail last week,  I awake to a sticky substance seeping from my nose.  I had thought this might be the day I'd begin to feel better.  As I raise myself up out of a deep slumber,  I swipe my nose with my hand only to see the deep red droplets of blood, now splashing down around me.  I hurry to find a tissue, but as I rise my stomach cramps and the intensity of the stabbing pain has me clutching my stomach as I double my efforts to just make it to the bathroom.

The stabbing pains have been on and off for awhile now.  Intense, but also brief.  Just enough to make me catch my breath. 

My tongue erupts with small sore spots.  I have trouble eating even small amounts of food, with a constant feeling of fullness. I scan the booklet filled with side effects and what to do for them, until my eyes glaze over.  

Soon, I find the days meld, one into the other.  

Suddenly, its Saturday.  Having embraced the chance to go with my friend, Roxane, to the Carmelite Monastery,  I quickly choose to allow distraction to guide me today.  So despite the morning nosebleed. Despite the intermittent pangs shooting through my stomach.  

And the hair.  In spite of the hair I am suddenly losing.  The pile I clean off the floor before I shower.  Then gasp, as I shut off the hair dryer later, only to discover, a bigger pile on the floor.  

Despite this, and the phone call I've received in response to my inquiries for a summer wig. 

My insurance company has suggested the perfect way to garner insurance coverage for a summer wig.  Simply ask my doctor to look at my head and decide what he sees is "alopecia."  Because I don't have any insurance coverage for a cranial prosthesis, due to chemotherapy hair loss.   But I can get coverage if I have a script for "alopecia."  No wonder I feel nauseous.  (Stella saves the day- a cut and a new style and she'll be good to go)

No wonder I can't wait to "escape," out my door.

It feels immensely appropriate for the cloudy skies to begin to release rain drops as we travel to Wahpeton, to Carmel.

I relish feeling the cleanse of the water washing over me.

As we pull into the driveway...  that feeling of arriving at "home" surges inside of me.

Almost instantly my mind hushes and dials down, as my eyes feast on the glory all around.  Words it seems, become unnecessary.  Language always surrounds me in the sounds of the birds, the hum of the wind, the whirl of the leaves and prairie grasses,  and the smell of the fresh rain.

Our time on retreat passes by quickly.  I'm immersed in nature, and solitude and sharing bits of my heart, and longing with Him.  

As we leave to go and treat ourselves to dinner, the sun sinks just low enough to light up the fields around us.  "Amber waves of grain," crosses both our minds.  

As always, I leave feeling refreshed.  With a vibration of love and peace in my heart.

Despite what my body says, "it is well with my soul."

But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.

Horatio Spafford