The Story Continues: Hospital Stay ~ Flowers Arrive

Pss. 96:6 "Honour and majesty are before him: strength and beauty are in his sanctuary."

The Story Continues...The Hospital Stay

The aftermath wasn’t so bad, in the beginning. I woke after the operation back in my room and my husband and son looking over me with pale faces. I could see the worry and stress dripping from their eyes. His mother was in the waiting room as I had requested because I just wanted my first loves to be what I saw when I woke.

Today I’m going to write a bit about my hospital stay. The second or third day (remember, I lost all sense of time) flowers started coming in. My son had told my niece about me being in the hospital and she being the sweetheart that she is, put a post on her/my (blood)family FB page. My two long-lost brothers sent flowers and balloons, my mother and sister sent flowers as well as two of my nieces. I do remember having to wait to tell my mother what happened to me because she kept ringing my phone incessant with worry, causing me undue stress in the process. Finally, my son had to call and tell her I was in the hospital. I only used my phone for hubby and son. I couldn’t move anyway so the phone was just a comfort artifact for a couple days. This post may seem choppy but I'm trying to get it all out there.

My husbands' mom gave me flowers in a beautiful deer coffee mug and the cutest softest dog ever! My niece posted a link to the gift shop at the hospital. My sister sent up from the gift shop a precious stuffed dog. And I received two angels too! And balloons, I received balloons attached to stuff, just what, I have no idea. I now have two stuffed dogs that I named Riley and Sassy! 

My husband, well he brought me a ton of stuff, a cross necklace, a single cross that in the center crystal stone when looked at in the sun, the serenity prayer is written! No kidding, it’s pretty awesome! A coffee mug that says ‘Good morning, Punkin’ with a small pumpkin in the cup. Halloween was nearing (I had no idea) and ‘punkin’ was one of his pet names for me. Over the ten days he had to bring tons of stuff from home and the store, so no I can’t list it all, but this man really came through for me, his broken woman and the confused man that he had become. He also brought the beautiful prayer quilt that my mother-in-law’s church had made for me and prayed over every stitch as it was being made. 

My son, he brought to me White Roses, in a vase. Not real ones he said because they die. He also gave me a Squirrel and a bluebird since I couldn’t sit and look at my birds and squirrels at the feeder at home. He also gave me a plaque, a wooden wall hanging that had two ‘wings’ (angel wings?) and the words ‘Believe you can’! He arranged everything so nicely at the window for me, and my husband draped the quilt over the back of the sofa.  All of the nurses (and docs) commented on the beauty of ‘love’ that I was receiving! 

My room was being filled with treasures and I was essentially just lying there staring at them, immobile, in pain and every shred of vanity and dignity tossed out the window. By the second or third day, I was getting more comfortable in the place. I’m not sure if it took that long for the drugs to wear off but the days seemed endless.

The bright room was a nice size all for myself and the usual monitoring machines. There was a studio style sofa in front of the window whose cushions unfolded into a bed for a family member if needing or wanting to stay. Steven stayed all ten days. He’d go home, take a shower, grab a bite to eat and bring essentials back to the hospital for me. He missed too many days of work for me and the poor fella was run as ragged as a war-torn handkerchief. His mind to me, looked like a jigsaw puzzle scattered on the floor as he tried finding all the pieces to go in the proper place as we went along on this journey. It was tough on all three of us. This wasn’t just a journey for Joni to learn and GROW.

For the next ten days, I was miss popular as were my bowel movements and my birthday! Those were the questions asked daily, the birthday one was asked with every nurse visiting the room. I was also known as little miss toxic. If a nurse helped me with the bedpan they had to gown up and double glove. If they handled my oral chemo pills they had to wear gloves. Funny how I was not told of the toxicity of these pills they handed me. I handled them like they were aspirin. My room was labeled outside with the skeleton and crossbones, listing me as a toxic commodity? 

With each nurse and or doctor that entered the room, I made them leave with a smile. In only ten days I had built relationships with the nurses, x-ray people, the radiation men and women, doctors, even the women who mopped the floor and emptied garbage pails. Not one person left my room without a smile on their face. 

The doctor who did my surgery, whom if you remember, held my heel for an hour before getting my leg to straighten out, it turned out he was from Colorado and would be returning home at the end of the week. He told me that he would be leaving Nebraska a different man than the one who came. He visited me daily and on the last day, handing him a rose, I told him to, “Always smile!” He stopped by before leaving for Colo. bidding me goodbye. He didn’t have to stop by but I’m assuming as a changed man, he wanted to. 

After bantering back and forth with the oncologist about the toxic port kind of chemo (who was the colleague onc. I missed at the office), we finally saw eye to eye when my tests, x-rays and my response to the oral poison was in my favor. Everything with the oral chemo was working. Tumor was shrinking, lymph nodes physically smaller than before. I was eating normal, bowels normal, skin normal, all in all I was a model patient. He had no argument seeing I surely didn’t look or act like a Stage 4 cancer patient! 

Talk of putting me in a nursing home/rehab came up at the end of my 'welcome' and I didn’t want to go but the insurance was not going to allow me much longer in the hospital. I don’t know why I couldn’t rehab in the hospital but then I guess the journey would have been pointless. When Portia came in and told me (as I’m eating my delicious lunch meal) that they found me a spot in the nursing home/rehab and I’d be transferred at three o’clock that day. My face drained of all blood. I suddenly wasn’t hungry. More tears puddled the sheets and filled the wastebasket with kleenex. Change. That week I think I could’ve built an ark to float away on all of those tears I shed. I closed my eyes and silently prayed. Portia was sitting right in front of me and my husband to my left. She gets a call, “Oh. Uh huh, Uh huh,” She looks at me and says, the room won’t be ready until tomorrow. Talk about prayers being answered! I kicked once again into the ‘accepting whatever God turns my way’ woman. 

With each doctor, nurse, Physical therapist, palliative nurse, or janitor that came through the door that day they received a carnation, daisy, or a rose to brighten their day and as a token of remembrance of me. While they expressed how sad they were to see me go, they smiled and thanked me for my kind gesture. Only one grumpy nurse (she was young too) turned down my gesture with “I have no place for a flower.” I knew she needed prayer the most.

Nurses have so much to contend with on a daily basis, that I wanted them to know that there is one person that appreciates all that they did for me. While my three vases thinned out of flowers, I sat in reflection of the ten days I was there. The room emptied for a few moments and I was alone in silent tears. I gazed out the window, a monarch butterfly passed by, all the way up on the third floor. Must’ve seen my flowers in the window. Thank you, Jesus, I whispered. At that moment a feather, a white feather, floated by. I knew I was being watched closely and guided by everything spiritual and Godsent! The only birds I had seen during my visit were two pigeons off on a roof two or three streets over.

I came into the hospital a pure nutrition-filled body enhanced by vitamins and a strict healthy protocol and I left a drug addict, having been on Morphine, using oxy something, Percocet, oral chemo drugs, a bone-strengthening drug shot into me once a month, and a lost healthy diet. Gone. A year and a half of health ~~~ lost to this. And we wonder why the nation has an opioid crisis? The doctors made it this way, not the people!

1 John 4:18 “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”

The story continues…

Rose In The Rubble

Deut. 22:9 “Thou shalt not sow thy vineyard with divers seeds: lest the fruit of thy seed which thou hast sown, and the fruit of thy vineyard, be defiled.”

The Rose in the Rubble

The world has become stone-faced in the face of crime, disaster, death and destruction. Nothing is shocking anymore and so many choose to look away. They’re more concerned with the clothes they wear or the shoes that will carry them but they turn a blind eye to all that is wrong in the world, finding it easier to overlook the rubble so all they see is the rose.

Imagine God during creation with a handful of seeds that he released to the earth. Let’s say the seeds were human beings. He fertilized by just breathing His word on the brown gritty earthy soil, stirred the land so we would be well planted, watered us and watched us grow.  
Some of the seeds that were scattered fell between the rocks, never really taking root by being nurtured by Him. Some fell on the sand again not being rooted in the strength He gave them. Others grew on the fertile soil, these are the upstanding righteous few who walk ROOTED in His Son. 

Do you see where I’m going here? 

Matt. 13:3-9 (KJV) “And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, Behold, a sower went forth to sow;
And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up:
Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth:
And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away.
And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them:
But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.
Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.”

Satan is a deceiver and a distracter. When all you can taste is bitter political vengeance on your tongue, when you keep your eye on what ISIS is destroying or maiming on any given day, when all that you hold in your hand is sand that slips through your fingers, you are being led by the one and only dark one. He has his eyes on you and is feeding you. He is reaping what he’s sown and you are planted right where he wants you, amid the rubble.

When I think of my son and how he has turned away from the church all I can think of is what I did wrong but then again I think of all that satan has done right. He led him,  along with an all too willing society, away from God. And no it isn’t just my son who was easily led away; he just wasn’t rooted right. There are many and I mean many who have been led away all because of society and the media’s choice of what is front and center and more important, the ‘ME Generation’. Some who are rooted on much stronger soil is fully aware of the lure of satan but as for me and my house, we serve the Lord. (My house meaning my body, my temple).

Take note, that just because you are led away does not make you a bad person destined for hell. I know too often people tell me that that is the very reason they were led away because the Christians made them feel they were destined for hell no matter what they did right. Hey, even Christians can distort the truth just like the media. I know I’ll catch backlash for that one but it is true, think Westboro Baptist church versus Billy Graham Ministries. 

The so-called Christians aren’t so perfect and made for heaven either, can you imagine if every single so-called Christian acted like God himself was sitting next to them as they posted on their wall on facebook? Would you see so many lies and mistruths then? No, all I see is satan’s hand guiding the posts on facebook, unless of course if you’re posting my blog. [wink wink]

Before judging me on my poor parenting skills and telling me what I have to do to make my son ‘right in your eyes’, why not look in the mirror, better yet, look at the last years posts on facebook and tell me that YOU are any better than anyone else. Satan has many of us deceived.

I don’t proclaim to have all of the answers to what is wrong with society but I DO have eyes to see (too many weeds) and ears to hear (not enough singing His praise) and I know that satan is pulling on the minutely detailed reins and you’re following just like a puppy needing a place to fit into a family. Don’t hide behind Christianity as if it is some form of agenda for you to fit into society. Look for the rose in the rubble, but be aware, the rubble is there for a reason.

Isaiah 26:8-9 (NIV) “Yes, LORD, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts. My soul yearns for you in the night; in the morning my spirit longs for you. When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness.”

Nurturing the Seed

Luke 8:14 And that which fell among thorns are they, which, when they have heard, go forth, and are choked with cares and riches and pleasures of this life, and bring no fruit to perfection

A lot of times people walk on rubble filled roads. They stumble and feel their feet are on unsure footing but they keep walking. Trudging along a dirt path yet always looking up to see if the sun will lighten the path, dry out the rubble and help them get to where they are going to in warmth without sinking in the mud.

Have you ever walked this path? Walked, stumbled, picked yourself up, then walked some more. Yeah I think many of us have. It’s always nice when the sun is shining down, isn’t it and we have light to show us the way?

I oftentimes think of those who stumble as I myself have sunk in a few mud traps myself. But what pulled me out, what gave me the strength to go on, knowing there was mud holes everywhere just waiting for my feet? The Son.

A seed, when placed in soil is sunken into the depths of darkness that we humans might not understand. Sometimes we cling to the darkness and linger there. A seed knows better than us! It knows that when the warmth begins to surround it, the seed rears its head and perks up, it feels even the slightest ray of sunshine and it begins its ascent in reaching for that Light that calls it to rise.

When we get comfortable in the soil, the mud pits, whatever you wish to call the deep abyss we sink into when depressed or fallen on hard times, the dark is the only thing to warm us. What happens to a seed, unattended by light and water? It dies, just as the soul does when not nourished.

My friend has a beautiful picture of a Christmas cactus that she shared. I told her my mother has one about 15 years old. I thought that was pretty long but she reported that her friend has one that is 35 years old! Wow! Talk about endurance. Love and care is what makes these plants so hardy. They weather many changes, through drought tolerance and climate changes; the Christmas cactus is one of the many plants that are perfect examples of human life.

Many people say they have no luck with plants. Luck, really? It is not by luck that a plant thrives nor does ones soul find rejuvenation by luck. I can bet that those who have no ‘luck’ with plants are the pessimist and realist of society.

I myself, while having many plants around my home that have survived 11 years so far and are still growing strong, I could never get a handle on Miniature Roses. I’ve had many but they all seemingly died! And I took the same care of them as I did my other plants. What was wrong? Care! I wasn’t caring for the sensitive plant. Like my soul, I let it do its thing, watering and tending thinking this was all it needed.

Love, it needed love and light and it needed care. My experiment this year was with another miniature Rose; a tiny frame in a 2-inch pot. I set it on my windowsill. It was really loving the Light, water and pruning! Just like my soul, AHA!

Spring arrived and I got the best soil for it to be replanted, a much bigger pot and set it outside in the warmth of the sun. It didn’t like the heat of the midday sun, but it thrived in the morning sun. There it sat until the temperature changes in late August had me pulling my very full and beautiful roses inside.

The leaves began to fall almost immediately to the extent I had bare twigs. Instead of seeing it as dead as in other years, I saw it as reviving itself. Shedding the old, bringing in the new, the next month would show a resurgence of life and this very day it is still alive and has a rosebud on it.

Sometimes we give up on our souls and just let them do their own thing. I’m sorry people but that is just not good enough! You need to nurture and tend your soul with the very best you can give it. I choose the Word of God but that might not be for everyone. We need to find what our soul needs to grow and feed it, treat it well, lavish it with tender care and beauty and you’ll see it flourish, even in the darkest of times.

Lent: Day Forty-one ~ Transformation

Rom. 12:2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

Holy Week begins. This week we are winding down the Lent post. By Sunday I will have written forty- seven days in a row with a Christian theme every day. That is quite an accomplishment for me, since I’ve never written forty-seven days in a row ever before. What is my gain from all this? Transformation. A spiritual transformation! I am truly reaping what I sow.

While some people have gone on their merry way in life thinking Lent is just for the Catholics, I’m here to tell you that Lent is MORE than just a yearly observance in the Catholic church. Lent is so much more to me than an observance; Lent to me is a full-blown spiritual transformation.

To some, people take Lent serious, they will fast from meat from Ash Wednesday until Easter Sunday, some take it more serious than that and take a sabbatical from all things food, and some take it as ritualistic atonement and some never care about the season and don’t do anything. I watch from the background as addictions are still being fed; there is no break from the media onslaught of demoralization, no pause in footsteps of routine, no break from redundancy, no looking to Jesus for even a moment nevertheless forty-seven days.

One of the definitions of transform is this: change in form, appearance, nature or character. There hidden in a nutshell is what Lent is to me. I am busy being transformed but not by my own hand, by the grace of God and the Holy Spirit filling me day after day.

I don’t know if my form is changing, I’ve practically been the same size since I was eighteen give or take a few pounds. Form could mean a change in spirit, spirit being that which FORMS you. Yeah I like that better. Appearance could mean how I appear to others (and I don’t mean changing my hair color or adopting youthful sleaze-wear either.) Nature or character? Well yes! I’ve always been quite a character, that’s been my nature BUT I don’t think that is what that means either.

Lent is a transitional phase each year in my life, ending with the celebration of my New Year on Easter Sunday. I will either stay the same old person or I will be transformed and become the true natured person that God has planned for me. This is a ME thing and doesn’t mean in any way that all people or Christian’s celebrate Lent this way. I am dedicated to becoming a better Christian, and Lent is the best time for me to pause, breathe and drink in everything God pours out to me. This year He wanted me to write from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday and thus transforming me.

Forty-seven days of writing has caused me to focus on the Word more intently than I normally would; I have been more focused on God, I have plunged into research, I have dove into a spiritual awakening within and I have provided comfort and knowledge to anyone seeking and I can feel the transformation taking place within me. I think my appearance is changing in that people see the Light of the Lord more fully in me; which in turn shapes my character and the nature of my being.

If I haven’t touched one person in these forty-seven days of posts, then I’ve still gained because it is I who is being transformed by these posts. While my stats are up I’m also seeing that someone out there is enjoying my writing and finding them a comfort and warmth to their own soul.

As we come down to the last seven days of the Lenten season, may you be filled with Christ and may you find yourself growing in new and improved ways. May you find at the end of the week that you too have been transformed!

May God be with you all!

Revival begins in the individual’s heart. Let it begin with you on your face alone before God. Turn from every sin that might hinder. Renew yourself to a new devotion to the Saviour. 

~ Lee Roberson