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Lasagna, Volleyball, Breast Cancer and Trusting Jesus

by KimHarms 2 Comments
Photo Courtesy of Raub Photography

Photo Courtesy of Raub Photography

After I was diagnosed with breast cancer, food started landing on my doorstep. Lots of food. Sometimes there was a person at the other end of the casserole and sometimes the meals just magically appeared in the big blue cooler outside the front door. My family appreciated it all. (Even if some of it pushed the boundaries of our boring Harms tastebuds.)

One of the first meals we received came from a group of high school girls from our church. Just a week or so after my diagnosis, these lovely girls came to my door bearing lasagna and cookies and I’m-not-quite-sure-what-to-say-to-someone-with-cancer smiles.

I took the casserole and the cookies and thanked them. Then I said something deeply meaningful like,

“Hey, I’ve got cancer, but at least I don’t have to cook.”

I’m pretty sure that just served to increase the awkwardness of the already uncomfortable moment.

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Say No to Fear and Yes to Freedom – A Guest Post By Cathy Baker

by KimHarms 0 Comments
Say No to Fear and Yes to Freedom – A Guest Post By Cathy Baker

Cathy Baker is a writer friend I’ve never met. Funny how this crazy online world works. 🙂 She blogs at Cultivating Creativity and her second devotional book, Pauses for the Vacationing Soul: A Sensory-Based Devotional Guide for the Mountains, just came out this week. I’ve had the privilege of getting to know her to through our connection at inspireafire.com., and I’m honored to share her guest post here on Life Reconstructed today. If we allow God access, He will reconstruct the broken parts of our lives, and that is what He is doing with Cathy. He’s helping her say no to fear and yes to freedom. Read on, she’s got good words to say.- 



Say No to Fear and Yes to Freedom

Fear has plagued me since an automobile accident over three decades ago.

Its invasion began soon after the accident when I refused to get on a highway. Driving or riding, it didn’t matter. Like a disease, the fear began spreading into other areas of my life. Within a matter of years, I was afraid to drive or ride over bridges, through tunnels, or busy roads. Our lives, unlike the fear, became very contained.

I’ve missed out-of-town birthdays, trips to my husband’s hometown in DC, and early on, even a few family beach outings. Truth is, I’ve missed out on much more but even I can’t bear to admit how much. Guilt clings to fear like a well-fitted backpack, creating a heavy load for anyone to carry, especially a Christ follower who has taught adult Bible studies photo by Kim Harmsfor over twenty years.

I know that love casts out all fear and that fear is not of Him. At one point, I considered stepping away from teaching because guilt constantly whispered how can you call yourself a Bible teacher when you struggle with all these fears? Recognizing this voice was not from God, I sought counsel from a wise friend and scholar of the Word. He asked, “How would a good father respond to your fears? Would he banish you from his home or heap guilt on your already weary soul?” I drove home with a fresh appreciation for my good, good heavenly Father and moved forward in many ways.

Over the years, I’ve kept a journal of God’s faithfulness. When a difficult trip came up, I wrote it down. Sometimes the sentence was as simple as Lord, help me drive to the grocery store in the storm. Every time God chose to miraculously clear the skies or the roads, I gained confidence. And on those days when the skies refused to clear or a kiss from the bumper from behind left me rattled, I found comfort in knowing God was there, allowing it for my ultimate good.

A year ago, in an effort to move closer to our grandchildren and to the mountains, we decided to leave our beloved century-old home and the city we’d lived in for twenty-five years. Leaving everyone and everything I knew to move an hour away (which was approximately 55 minutes outside my comfort zone) required a tremendous step of faith. We found a home that sat on four acres with a spectacular view of the mountains. The only downside was the drive to civilization.

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It’s Possible I Watch Too Much HGTV

by KimHarms 0 Comments

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I channeled my inner Joanna Gaines this week and repurposed my giant broken wall clock. The finished product isn’t perfect, but I’m not a perfectionist so it’s all good. A little scraping + A little sanding + A little spray painting + A little projecting + A little marker painting = Some of my favorite verses on my wall.

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Deuteronomy 11:18-21

18 Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.19 Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 20 Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates,21 so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land the Lord swore to give your ancestors, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.

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When Breast Cancer Came to My House

(I was asked to write my breast cancer story for our local paper as a part of Breast Cancer Awareness month. The following is just a little piece of 2016 in the Harms house. It’s a bit longer than my typical blog posts, but I am publishing it as it was printed in the paper.)

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The hardest part is telling your kids.

Watching your child navigate heartache is painful. But when you are the one who causes the heartache, it is almost unbearable.

We sat in front of the fireplace, Corey and I. It was January 21. Two days after my biopsy.

Carter leaned against the living room wall. Owen against a couch. Lewis beside him.  Our two teenagers and the 9-year-old who will always be my baby.

There was a surreal, fear-tinged atmosphere surrounding that moment.

The boys knew about my biopsy.

They knew there was something not quite right with my body.

But they were as ill-prepared for the blow of the diagnosis as I was.

That diagnosis was Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. Breast cancer. Corey and I had allowed ourselves 24 hours to process the news, and now it was time to bring the boys into this undesirable circle.

I don’t think I could have physically spoken my diagnosis to the boys. As I watched them quietly brace themselves for whatever news was coming, the pathway from my vocal cords to my lips grew tight and suddenly there was not enough air in the room to form words. So I just leaned on Corey hoping somehow that his strength would seep into me. And praying that his words would not get lost like mine.

“We got the biopsy results back, and your mom has breast cancer.”

Silence.

The world stopped for a minute while we watched our boys’ insulated lives bust wide open.

Tears don’t often flow freely at our house, but that night they did.

I saw the fear in my boys’ eyes and more than anything I wanted to take it away.

It’s going to be okay. Breast cancer is treatable. The doctors will fix this and then we’ll get right back to normal, is what I wanted to say. But the truth is I was drowning in fear myself.

Fear of the unknown. Because all I had at that point was a name for my tumor. I didn’t know if it had spread beyond the lump I could feel under the skin of my breast. I didn’t know what my future looked like. Chemo? Radiation? Surgery? Death? I just knew that something was growing inside of me that was not supposed to be growing inside of me, and I was helpless to stop it.

Overcoming Fear

Fear can do crazy things to your mind if you let it. It can take you down paths you don’t want to be on. And there were days that all of my energy was spent fighting ugly thoughts.

But even as those thoughts bombarded me, one scripture verse kept coming to the forefront of my mind.

“Fear not, for I am with you. Be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” It was from Isaiah, and I had memorized it during high school to get me through the jitters I always felt before the gun went off at a track meet. Who knew at that time how much more I would need those words at 40 than I did at 15.

At first, I don’t know that I fully believed all the words of verse that played on repeat in my mind. But the more I took the fear and covered it with the fear not the more I trusted that God knows what he’s doing.

That he wasn’t looking down from heaven saying, “Oh shoot, I screwed that one up. Kim wasn’t supposed to get that tumor. Oh well. She’s got it now, I guess we’ll go with it.”

I think what he wanted was for me to learn to trust him in the hard stuff. And by watching me trust him, he wanted my kids to learn that they can trust him as well.

The Path Through the Treatment

The boys survived that night in the living room. They worked their way through the fear. And they helped me make it through a really tough season.

After my bilateral mastectomy, they (along with Corey) became my physical strength. They helped me out of my recliner. They opened my refrigerator door. They refilled my water bottle. The adjusted my footstool.

And they graciously kept being themselves as well. They still yelled at the Xbox when their games weren’t going right. They still ate their way through a million boxes of cereal. They still wrestled on the living room floor, and they still got passionately involved in viewing Cyclone basketball games on TV. Together, we found an “unnormal” normal. And we grew to have a deep appreciation of each other and our time together.

While the boys helped me out and worked through the cancer in their own way, Corey was doing the hard things too. He came home at lunchtime to help me shower. He blew my hair dry and helped me get dressed. He emptied my drains, and he told me I was beautiful when my scars told me I was ugly.

On the Other Side

We are on the other side of this cancer thing now. I spent a couple nervous weeks after surgery waiting to be informed whether or not I would need chemo. (I didn’t. Hallelujah!) And because of the type of surgery I chose, radiation wasn’t necessary either. I am now healed and released to a 10-year prescription of an estrogen inhibitor (my cancer likes estrogen) and bi-annual appointments with my oncologist.

I can look back and see clearly that even in a disease like breast cancer, beauty can be found. I have grown in ways that would not be possible without that significant bump in my road.

I saw God remain trustworthy when my circumstances were out of control.

I gained so much compassion for those with cancer. When I spot someone whose hair has been stolen by chemo, my heart is immediately drawn to them.

I witnessed my boys maturing right before my eyes. They made it through those broken hearts. And I am confident that the next time they are exposed to cancer (and I don’t doubt there will be a next time) they will have a compassion and understanding that would have been impossible to achieve without walking through it with me.

Cancer was the hardest thing our family has ever done together and most definitely not something we would ever choose. But in ways I have a hard time putting words to, it was also the most beautiful.

(First published in the Tri-County Times and Nevada Journal.)

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Leslie Leyland Fields Interview – Crossing the Waters

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Leslie Leyland Fields graciously granted me an interview about Crossing the Waters, and I’m excited to share it it with you.
I quoted this book in my previous post, when I talked about how powerful the image of water has been to me this year. Crossing the Waters was really a gift at the end of a storm.
Leyland’s life as an Alaskan fisherwoman allows her to come at scripture from a unique perspective. And her story-telling brings new life to well-loved passages of the Bible.
Enjoy this short conversation with Leslie Leyland Fields, and then go buy her book. 🙂

 

 

1.Tell me briefly about yourself. (Your family, profession, hobbies…)

Here’s my rundown: I’ve got 6 kids, a daughter and 5 sons, from ages 28 down to 13!  I’ve been married longer than I want to tell you all—because I still want you to think I’m young. I don’t want my last two teenage boys to hear a rumor that their mother isn’t so young anymore!  I’m living my own dream—I’m working full time as a writer, teacher and editor. In my spare time, I love to hike and kayak.

2.You have been a commercial fisherwoman for four decades. That life experience has given you insight into scripture stories many of us couldn’t have seen without your guiding words. How did this book idea come about? Did it brew inside your head for years? Or did it just hit you one day that it needed to be written?

I did indeed brew and stew over this for some time, years actually, before I committed to writing it. I knew it would be tough to write, and yet I was so anxious for that crucible of finding words for the life I had experienced and sending it on to others.

3.You spent time at the Sea of Galilee in preparation for this book. How did being in the place where Jesus and his disciples spent so much time affect your perspective on the scriptural texts that take place on and around the sea?

You know, here’s what struck me most—how utterly ordinary that place that Jesus chose. I had been there  three times before over the years, but this time, hiking the trail around the Sea and going out with commercial fisherman really engaged me in a deeper way. And I saw—the mud on my boots there was like the mud on my boots here. I wasn’t blown away by the beauty there. It’s really quite ordinary looking. It struck me how from the beginning God chose the ordinary, the weak, the foolish, (the fishermen!) to display his own magnificence and power.

4. One of my favorite quotes from your book is “I have found over the years that the gospel does not always simplify my life or the lives of any of his followers. If we are listening well, it rends us first. It shatters us. This new life with the Holy Spirit pummels my heart as much as it soothes it.” You share some examples of this in the book, but can you give an example here for the readers?

When we hear about people suffering, whether it’s our neighbor or Christians overseas fleeing for their lives, because we ARE the body of Christ, connected and jointed together, when one suffers, we all suffer. This is the weight we bear as Christians, that we cannot turn away. But it also means in our times of need, we are surrounded by brothers and sisters lifting us up. We are rent, shattered and healed together. We live a thousand lives instead of just one. There is no better way to live.

5. What is your favorite part of the Alaskan fishing life?

Living out in the lap of creation, surrounded by whales, sea lions, sea otters, deer and the ocean, which beats on our island like God’s own heart.

6.Least favorite?

When the waters are stormy and the nets are full of kelp, which means hours and hours of nausea in a pitching skiff bent over picking out every piece of kelp. Yuck. Hate it.

7. When your reader finishes the last page of this book, what is one thing you hope sticks in their mind?

That Jesus is calling you to this incredible life of following after him, living like him. And if you think you can’t do it, that you’re too weak, too imperfect, listen. Your love is enough. Your tiny limited human love is enough to accomplish all that God asks of you. Peter’s love was enough. This is Peter, who abandoned his dearest Jesus in his greatest hour of need! But his small human love for Jesus was enough for God to establish his church on earth. Your love is enough for Jesus to do mighty things through you. Go, follow Him! Do not be afraid!

Purchase the book on Amazon –  Crossing the Waters: Following Jesus Through the Storms, the Fish, the Doubt, and the Seas 

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Crossing the Waters

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When you pass through the waters I will be with you. Isaiah 43:2

The image of water has been a big deal to me this year. The power. The tranquility. The danger. The beauty.

Cancer was my water. Fear-inspiring, yet fused with the beautiful. So hard, yet covered by a peace I cannot explain. The water was rough, but Jesus was constant.

One night long ago on the stormy Sea of Galilee, Peter jumped out of a boat and began walking to Jesus. He sees a man walking toward him on the water and says “Lord if it’s you, tell me to come to you.”

In her new book, Crossing the Waters, Leslie Leyland Fields describes Peter’s walk like this.

“He walks atop the waves anyway for a few steps, but fear opens his eyes and ears too wide. He hears the wind; he feels the water at his ankles. He knows this is impossible-and he sinks.”

Whatever it is that got him out of that boat, he did it, and the most dynamic personality among the disciples took his first steps on water. But then his circumstances got the better of him.

Leyland’s word pictures throughout Crossing the Waters swing on a pendulum between 21st century Alaskan commercial fishing and seafaring and first century fishing on the Sea of Galilee. She brings new life to texts my five-year-old self was introduced to in flannel graphs and coloring pages.

And her stories reminded me over and over of my rough waters turned serene.

I didn’t jump out of the boat into the storm like Peter.

I was pushed.

I didn’t say, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to walk out on that crazy, stormy sea, and I will hop right out of this boat.”

I was more like, “Oh dear Lord, someone pushed me overboard and I can’t breathe and the salt water is burning my eyes.”

When I listened to the screams of the tumor that pushed against my bra-line, I began to sink. But when I grabbed for Jesus, he kept me afloat.

When he held out his figurative hand to me like he did his physical hand for Peter, I knew him.  “It is you Jesus. It is really you.”

Jesus knows, like Peter, my faith will waver. And he knows, like Peter, my fears will at times make me irrational. But still he holds out his hand. Because he is creating in me something new. A faith strengthened by a stormy sea.

And maybe that is what this whole tumor thing was about anyway. Maybe it wasn’t about me making it through cancer. Or not making it. Maybe it was about increasing in faith. Maybe it was about me speaking my raw emotions to my Savior, “I don’t want to die now. Please don’t let me die. But if that is what you have for me, you need to walk with me and show me how.”

Fields says,

“How many boats have gone down in just this corner of the sea…Yes so many saved, but so many lost. Even those who knew Jesus. I know he told it straight and often. “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I know take up their cross means be ready to die. But who can do this?…Jesus, this God-man, can command every element of creation with just a word, but he does not always take away the winds. Jesus can sit in the boat with us, and that boat still might sink.”

I cannot think of a word in the English language that is emotionally charged enough to express my gratitude that my boat did not sink. That the waves did not overtake me.

But someday it will sink, because this life has no choice but to end in death. And when it does, I want everyone to see that Jesus was sitting with me in the boat the whole time, preparing to take me home.

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Leslie Leyland Fields book Crossing the Waters is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Her story-telling will take you into well-loved Bible stories in a new and deeper way, and quite possibly teach you something new about yourself. Crossing the Waters is worth a few of your dollars and a few hours of your time. 

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Enveloped in Light

courtesy of Katie Swanson

Photo by Katie Swanson

Sweet saturating sunshine

 Remind me always

of how Jesus

enveloped us in light

even when

days were dark.

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Great and Unsearchable Things

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A coffee and my Bible. An unanswered why and uncontrollable tears.

This is how I started my day.

I trust Jesus.

I know the Word of God is Truth.

I have seen beautiful things come from ugly things this year.

But I still have mornings of whys.

I’ve wondered why I got cancer. Not in a Why me? I don’t deserve this kind of way. (I have honestly never struggled with that.) But more in a What purpose does this serve in my life? kind of way. I know God wouldn’t run me through the wringer for nothing, but I don’t have a clear answer to that why.

I’ve wondered why, in a family with no history of breast cancer, my cousin who is one year older than me and who grew up two blocks away from me was diagnosed with breast cancer just three months after me.

I’ve wondered why Corey and I were presented with a challenging personal obstacle to work through in the midst of cancer. Some days this year I felt like I had to remind God I had cancer. Like Hey Mr. Creator of the Universe, are you sure you want to lay this thing on me right now? I’m kind of busy dealing with a bilateral mastectomy at the moment.

I’ve wondered why I often can’t seem to focus long enough to organize the words floating in my head into a cohesive sentence on my laptop. This makes me seriously wonder about my choice of vocation.

There have been a lot of whys this year.

But the unexpected why that hit me this morning?

Why can’t I stop crying?

Why, after having completed my reconstructive surgery and having entered the homestretch of healing, do I want to climb in bed and cry myself to sleep? I should be jumping up and down and praising God that it’s over. I should feel immense relief. Instead, this morning I just feel heavy.

I don’t have the answer. But I do have this.

As I sipped coffee on my deck (and blew my nose on a paper towel because we’re out of kleenex), I opened up my Bible to Jeremiah and read “This is what the Lord says, he who made the earth, the Lord who formed it and established it – the Lord is his name; Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” (Jeremiah 33:2-3)

Great and unsearchable things. I will probably never fully understand this year. I suspect I will teeter-totter from a heavy heart to unspeakable joy and back several more times. But God says when I call, he will answer. And not only will he answer, but he will show me great and unsearchable things.

And that gives me comfort in the midst of the heavy.

Comfort because I know his words are as true and real as these tears on my cheeks.

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Boy Mom Monday – Proverbs 23:22 – Parent and Friend

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Proverbs 23:22 Listen to your father, who gave you life, and do not despise your mother when she is old.

I had a friend years ago whose relationship with her mother was strained. They talked regularly. And though they honestly loved each other, it was not uncommon for their conversations to end in utter frustration. You see, they loved each other, but they didn’t really like each other.

One expected too much, the other couldn’t let go of the past.

I have lost touch with that friend and don’t know where her relationship with her mother stands today, but I do know that I don’t want that kind of relationship with my kids.

Right now I am my boys’s mom first and their friend second. We can enjoy some benefits of friendship, but my primary role is to guide them into adulthood. Sometimes that will tick them off because my decisions are not what they would choose. And sometimes it will tick them off because the decisions I make are wrong. I’m not infallible, and of the millions of decisions I will make throughout their childhood years, I will surely make some stupid ones.

My hope for my boys is that they will see my mistakes with forgiving eyes, and that when they test their childhood in my home on a scale they will see it was heavily weighed down by love. And that that love will lead to a mama/son friendship.

Prayer

Lord, I know I will screw up in the parenting years. I will make mistakes that will hurt my boys. I don’t want to, but I know I will. I pray that as they cross from childhood to adulthood they will dwell on my love for them, and be able to forgive or overlook the offenses. I pray also that as they pass from childhood to adulthood our parent-child relationship will develop into a true friendship. Amen.

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BOY MOM MONDAY – Proverbs 19:2 – ZEAL

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Proverbs 19:2 It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way.

Zeal is a good thing. To be enthusiastic and passionate about a goal is a great first step. But if zeal is all we have, we won’t get far.

After I watched Florence Griffith Joyner break world track records in Seoul in 1988, my 12-year-old self was going to follow in her footsteps. I would be a runner, and I would run in the Olympics (forget that those Olympics sprinters are not white girls.)

So I went out of for track in seventh grade. I did zero conditioning beforehand, and realized that running fast is hard. I didn’t run track in 8th grade. But something in me still wanted to run, so I joined the team again in 9th grade and ran throughout high school. And I loved it.

But I learned that I had to add some hard work and knowledge to that zeal I had back in junior high. I ran all year long, not just in season. I worked out before school in the weight room and I got together with my relay teammates to work on hand-offs outside of practice.

I wasn’t the fastest girl on my team, but my zeal + knowledge + effort did earn me a place at the state track meet a couple times. I look back on my track experiences as my best high school memories, and though I’m no speed demon, I still enjoy a good run.

My hope for my boys is that they too will learn to match their zeal with knowledge and effort so they can accomplish the desires of their hearts.

Prayer

Dear God, Thank you for giving us each zeal for different things. I pray that those passions that are in my boys’ hearts will lead them to desire to learn and grow and reach their goals and that they will not become lazy and give up because something is too hard physically or mentally. Amen.

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