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There is someone in my life that over the years has been charged with putting a human voice to the Spirit that tells me what-for and shape-up.  I received a call from my Jiminy-Cricket yesterday.   He never speaks sharply.  In fact, my dear brother-in-law, Greg, always speaks (to me at least) with a smile on his face.  I don’t have to have a video-phone to see that Greg is smiling at me over the phone.  See, he knows why he is calling. He knows what’s coming.  He is smiling that smile that the good kid gives to the naughty kid when he is sent into the bedroom to fetch him for the reckoning.  “Mom wants you! Your in big trouble now!”  Only it’s not my mom that wants to scold me.  It’s the Lord.  And the Lord’s sent the Holy Spirit and teamed him up with my brother-in-law to do it.  Not fair.  Really not fair.

Greg has a personal relationship with the Spirit. (They go way back . . .)  The two of them got together and plotted how they would call me and poke ever so softly at my heart and convict me of my shortcomings all the while showering me with genuine love and affection.  Not fair.  Really not fair.

Greg wanted to know how I was feeling, of course.  Since I haven’t actually told anyone how I have been feeling lately, it was a good place to start with a tiny little poke. I realize that I haven’t even talked about the symptoms I have been dealing with (except boredom) let alone how I actually feel about them.  Somewhere along the line, I stopped writing about my true feelings.  Poke poke.  I tell myself that some of my feelings, should they be made public, might hurt other people’s feelings.  I am not sure if that line of reasoning has merit or not.  Or if I talk about physical symptoms it might come out as complaining. . . (which I only do to my husband, bless his heart)  poke poke poke.

Greg proceeded to tell me how much he loves my writing. Poooookkkkkkkeeee.   “It’s like a book you can’t put down.” he says.  Only what he really is saying is that it would be nice to be able to pick it up once in a while and read it.  I tell myself that things have been slow lately.  I find it really hard to believe anyone would find my daily life interesting at the moment.  I spend most of my time here in my house.  Waiting.  Waiting for the next treatment.  Waiting for the last treatment.  Sleeping.  Waking.  Feeling my bald head and waiting for hair to grow.
You ever waited for hair to grow before?

Then Greg and his Partner said something that poked me hard . . . “It’s all part of your ministry.”

BAMB.  Big poke.

Writer, yes.
Christian Writer, OK.
Ministry?

That’s too crazy.  That is . . . Just . . . Too . . . I  don’t know.  Crazy.

I am just a mom and a wife.  I got hit with this “fluke.”   I started writing about it on the notepad of my cell phone two hundred and fourteen days ago.  I don’t know what to do with it now.   You know what?  This blog scares me more than the Cancer!

I have no doubts that the Lord will bring me through this cancer.  I am not afraid of the cancer.   But . . . What is coming next?  I am praying on this.

I know that God is using my story.  I know that if one person is saved because I got cancer, then everything I have been through in the past 214 days and everything I will have to go through in the next  . . . however long will have been worth the price.  I wish I didn’t have cancer. Oh LORD, I wish I didn’t have cancer.  But if it means that one person will walk through the gates of Heaven that otherwise would not have made it. . .  Then I will do it.  (Like I had a choice.)

So, I tell my story.  Is that a Ministry?

OH, Lord, why me?

I would not give this cancer to anyone else . . . But I did hear of Jesus casting demons on some swine . . .   Hint Hint . . . Lord?

Alright, on a medical note . . . I am doing alright this round.  Each one is different, I am finding.  I was able to drive faster and my appetite came back quicker.  I am more tired than I was last round which means my blood counts must be down.  I have no way to check that …  I have had more headaches.  I think the headaches are coming from my eyesight.  I am having trouble with my eyesight.  Had I know that I would get cancer this year, I would have gone to the eye doctor beforehand.  Now I have to wait until the Chemo is over before I get new glasses.   I don’t know if the weak eyesight is a side effect of the Ifosfamide and I don’t know if it is temporary or permanent.  But it is severe.  I can’t read the online cable guide from the couch!  That’s really bad!  Lol.   We see the doctor again on Tuesday.  My eyesight is on the list to talk to him.  I have a few things to talk to him about.  I want to know what is next.  What happens after I finish the Chemo.

I am also asking the Father the same question. . .

What happens after I finish the chemo?