The tide rushed in: crazy, fast, wild, dangerous. We found the place where we’d taken the kids once, many years ago. It was private, quiet, and safe--away from the quicksands for which that area is known. It was the day before my 5th chemo infusion last week and it was just what we needed. I had a longing to see the sea. I needed to see something bigger than our four walls and my diagnosis and side-effects. About 75 yards away was a couple in their mid 50s, both fishing for seabass with long poles. They obviously noticed my hair loss and shared about his recent cancer battle. After only little fish that they had to throw back, we rejoiced from a distance when they got a large seabass that was going to be their supper. (We had to shout back and forth.) I said that if they got another one and it was for sale, I would gladly buy it. She said it was very unusual to get one large enough to keep, let alone two, but if they got another one, we could have it! They were leaving soon and so were we. So, as I’m learning to do with many things, I turned it over to Jesus and asked if it was His will that He bring along a seabass large enough to keep. Within a few minutes, the pole was bending and there it was! Almost 2 lbs! I was as excited as a kid at Christmas. The husband brought it halfway and left it on a rock and went back to the fishing spot so I could go pick it up. They refused to let us pay for it. I thanked them over and over. It was such a delightful moment; such a sweet gift from God. The God who put the tax money in the fish’s mouth and filled up Peter’s net is still in charge of the fish today and I have a feeling Jesus enjoyed the whole thing as much as I did. :)
This round of chemo has been especially challenging. Yesterday was so hard. My body felt completely alien: neuropathy in my feet and toes, dizziness, and my eyes and brain just not cooperating. Pray for wisdom for my oncologist as to whether to reduce my next dosage 25%, which he’s considered before. That will be my 6th and final infusion, hopefully on 16 July. He said we need to strictly self-isolate/”shield” until probably late August, depending on how I feel after the last session. There is so much loss and yet so much grace. Pray for:
--perseverance and wisdom
--the chemo to kill every cancer cell
--God to have His way in our lives
--Him to be glorified through all of this.
The sweet Romanian chemo nurse I had several times said she gets fed spiritually at our house. She’s now moved on to another job, but told us she'd still have the same phone number and we could stay in touch. Pray for “M”.
Thanks again for your gracious support of us, for interceding before the throne of grace for us, for caring. With love,
Debbie, and for Steve