Thursday, June 14, 7:15 a.m. The storm has turned the highway into a river. White-knuckled and blinded by the pounding rain on my windshield, I want to be anywhere but here. I pray for the rain to stop. This is what fear feels like. Friday, June 15, 8:15 a.m. My stagnant little creek bed has turned into a soothing babbling brook. I sit on the makeshift wooden bridge, my feet dangling above the sand and rocks. This is exactly where I want to be. I thank God for the beauty. This is what peace feels like. I have a million…
2:36 a.m. The February night is moonless, black, as you turn your head to the left and gaze out the second-story window. The limbs and leafless branches of the huge maple tree just outside are like cold, barren, groping arms, sinister in the streetlamp’s dim glow. Lying flat on your back in bed, each arm is propped up on a large pillow. Except for your elevated arms, you are nestled like a caterpillar in a cocoon. You would think this should make you feel safe and secure. You would think. Where did they put your breasts? Were they tossed in…
I seldom fear cancer will come back. I’ve read the stats, and I know that because I found my tumor early, my chances of another bout with it are very slim. And aside from the fact that I tend to write about cancerish things a lot, it’s a rare day that cancer thoughts overwhelm me. But every once in a while I’m caught completely off guard by deep despairing sadness or unrelenting unsubstantiated fear. Monday was one of those days. I found myself baking (what? I don’t bake) and dripping tears in the cookie dough while Tim McGraw sang…
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…
It is my pleasure to share a bit of Noah Swanson’s story with you today. At 13 he was diagnosed with autoimmune hepatitis; the disease from which his father, my uncle Lorry, died in 1989. Noah was just two years old. He subsequently received a liver transplant at age 16, and now in his mid-20s is married and has a beautiful little girl. Noah is in the process of writing a book that chronicles his transplant journey and provides much needed information and encouragement for others who find themselves on the transplant path. A resource he longed to have as…