Front Porch Courage

Awkwardly I unlocked the back patio sliding doors while balancing my Bible, pen, iPod and computer. I refused to make two trips. My husband always lectures me for loading up so precariously, but I was determined I could carry all my belongings outside without the need of walking those few feet twice. It’s not being lazy, it’s being creative.

I managed the manoeuvre without incident, settled myself in the “anti-gravity” chair and took a deep breath. It felt good just to sit outside. Two months ago today I was in the hospital recuperating from surgery that removed a mass diagnosed as ovarian cancer. Having just completed my second round of chemotherapy, it was a gift to be feeling well enough to adventure outdoors. I had been anxious to step outside the safety of my walls. The loss of my hair had been sudden and saddening. Only cosmetic, yet my bandanas now universally proclaimed to the world that I was a cancer survivor. Although their declaration was one of success, they spoke a new insecurity to my heart. My home and my backyard became my protection…or were they more my voluntary prison? I was under house arrest and personal solitary confinement.

Opening my Bible I began to read today’s passage. I couldn’t focus. Two things were interrupting me; the buzzing of the bees in the wild flowers near the patio, and the heat of the sun that refused to offer just a gentle warming. I shifted my position. I readjusted my chair. Still I had lost my concentration. Frustrated I decided to move back inside. I felt defeated and annoyed. Why couldn’t I just enjoy a simple pleasure like a few minutes in the fresh air savouring God’s creation?

“Sweet Joy, you still can.”

No I can’t. The sun is too hot. The buzzing insects interrupting.

“You have another choice My daughter.”

No I don’t and please don’t ask me.

“You have a beautiful, shaded front porch with two chairs. One for you, and one for Me.”

Oh Lord, I can’t. It’s too hot out and I don’t want to have to stop and bother to take time to put on my wig.

“You don’t have to wear your wig. You are beautiful and I will be your covering.”

Oh yes I do. If I sit out the front wearing my bandana everyone will know I have cancer.

“My precious daughter, I don’t believe even you have made that full acknowledgement yet.”

I’m frightened Lord. I’m frightened of the stares. I’ve been on the other side. I’ve been the one who has glanced and looked away, afraid of the disease and uncertain as to what to say. Do you know what it's like to wake up every morning...realize you're living the nightmare...and start the day in fear and tears? Do you know what it's like to walk into any room...even in the privacy of your own home...with your head down...so afraid to make eye-contact with a mirror and see your reflection? Do you know what it's like to look down at your laptop, your t-shirt, the pages of your Bible and have to constantly brush off falling hair? Do you know what it's like to feel your own body is a walking time-bomb? Do you know what it's like to feel sadness so deep that its cuts and scars will forever remain? Do you know what it's like living as a prisoner to a disease? How do I get past the need to understand and continue living?

“Child, you take My hand and together we open your front door and step outside. Will you trust Me? There is a world out there that still needs the gifts and talents I have planted inside you. Together you can move from backyard cowardice to front porch courage.”

Backyard cowardice or front porch courage. Which was I going to choose?

My name is Joy Brown, and I have ovarian cancer.



Yes...that IS my front porch.

A quick update! When we obey the Lord, He is quick to infuse us with more and more of what we need. After posting this blog, God moved me from "Front Porch Courage" to "Convertible Courage". Check out the Driving Diva who was cruisin' around town last night WITH the top down. :)

Story in Six Words

She Reads is offering an opportunity to win a scholarship to attend the She Speaks Conference. All you have to do is write a story in six words. Here's mine:

Pink didn't use to frighten me

Being a word girl, I couldn't stop at just one, so for fun, but not entry, here are some of the others I wrote that tell tales yet to be written. Enjoy.

Wearing pink, looking brave, hiding fear.
Sins many, forgiven much, becoming more.
Waiting for the phone to ring.
Thought I was invincible; hospital called.
Silence speaks; tears scream; cancer calls.
Cancer called; I refused to answer.
Didn't really want to do it.
It was only a routine mammogram.
Words are written. Life is lived.
My life isn't a rough draft.
Awaiting phone call. Please be benign.
I let go; He held on.
I have forgotten how to sleep.
Cancer center called. Can't catch me.
Ollie-Ollie-Oxen-Free; Still hiding.
Rejoicing with her. Asking why me?
Need more hands to count blessings.
Leaking life through a cracked pot.
Once I started I couldn't quit.
Finally found me; worth the search.
I should not have hit "Send".
Tears real. Everything else mostly fake.
Water only washes off surface dirt.
Life is not a cameo appearance.
Pink was once my favorite color.
Surgeon called. Pink scares me now.
Walls fell. I am still standing.
Cup overflowing; drinking from my saucer.
Could not stop with just one.
Life's worth more than six words.
Life anchor being tested by hurricane.
Voluntarily behind bars. Prisoner of hope.
Doctors offered no hope. Still breathing.
Aging parents. Now I'm the mom.
Afraid to write life in ink.
Living the dash between the years.
My life changed with one call.
Should have let the phone ring.
Nail scarred hands brought my liberty.
Offering broken life to Him; Priceless.
Bowing down before Him. Standing redeemed.
Ruined: without reason, but not results.
Need Writers Anonymous; addicted to words.

Lost

“I am like a little child who doesn’t know (her) way around.” 1 Kings 3:7b

Today I am breathing in uncertainty and exhaling indecision.

The time separating lost and found seems like an eternity.

Lost.

A frightening word and a familiar feeling.

Lost in a crowd of pain. Health challenges threaten to block my view of a hope and a future. Like Zacchaeus, I'm looking for a tree to climb.

Lord, right now I am that little child. Unexpected winds have blown me off course. Surrounded by unknown, I am directionless and disoriented. I can’t find my bearings. Questions fill my days and haunt hours of restlessness. Caught in a cycle of unending circumstances, I’m wandering aimlessly.

My life is defined right now by instability. The wind is blowing. It's not a gentle wind that lifts wisps of hair and caresses my face. It's a billow desiring to force me off my feet. A current from an area of high pressure air to an area of low pressure petitions to move joy to despair. A gale of doubt longs to bend my attitude and carry away all strength in its movement. As I watch the flag outside being whipped in wind’s embrace, my life feels so beaten and defeated. How can one stand against such unrelenting power?

A call to the Surgeon's office brings winds of change.

Uncertainty collides with faith.

Test results return.

Surgery dates are changed.

A violent storm of impending danger is on the horizon. I pray for the weather to change and the forecast to be kind.

Voices beckon me offering advice. Too many choices. Too many demands. Each decision leaves someone disappointed. Impossible to please and satisfy everyone. And what about me? Where is Your purpose as I meander down paths of pain? This is foreign territory and I’m a stranger in the land.

Lord, I’m searching for answers. I reach for the compass of Your Word, as mine lays shattered at my feet. You are my true North. You alone know the way out of the forest of confusion. Let one leaf fall to guide my way. Give me eyes to see. In my self-consumed thoughts, don’t let me step over this marker unnoticed. May the sound of crunching beneath my feet break through my bewilderment, as creation grabs my attention and points me to You. Help me navigate through feelings and faith, keeping my eyes fixed on You, the bright and morning Star.

I am so small. Life seems so big. You surpass them all. Take my hand Lord and show me the way.

"I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood...oh how I need, Someone to watch over me." (Gershwin)

Footnote: Through my current health challenge, God is daily drawing my heart to His. This post was written as a scholarship submission for the She Speaks Conference, a wonderful weekend of opportunity where women's hearts connect with the heart of our Heavenly Father. This scholarship is being offered by Ann Voskamp through the generous donation of Cecil Murphy. You can read about this opportunity here: a holy experience It is my desire to follow and serve the Lord wherever He leads.

Come To the Garden

"Lots a things that looks dead are just biding their time." (Dickon, "The Secret Garden".)

Recently I attended a live, musical production of "The Secret Garden". There's something about that story that captivates my heart. Finding a key that opens the door to a place where dormant desires come alive. For me, "She Speaks" was the key that opened my heart to gifts and passions the Lord had planted in the garden of my soul.

I first attended "She Speaks" in 2005. I wandered in quite lost, but over the course of the weekend found myself, and my dreams. I had "flowers" that were "wick” deep in the soil of the gifts the Lord had planted in me. They had sat idle and isolated, but were alive and now given the opportunity to grow. God sees even the tiniest of flowers and He began watering the seed with the excellence of mentors who had long sat and prepared with the Master Gardener.

Caring for a garden takes effort and work. Throughout the conference the bark and thistles of doubt, fear, discouragement and inadequacy were cut back and pruned. Dead parts were cleared away giving room for tender buds of courage and confidence to bloom. The earth was loosened to let Sonshine warm the roots and feel the cool and gentle rain on the dream seeds God hand planted.

It takes courage to sprout out of the ground. It's safer below, but God's Word tells us not to hide our talents. Maybe all we can see right now is a single streak of green growth beneath the earth’s surface, "but when a thing is wick it has a will to grow, and grow." Deep down longings have been hiding through the darkest night, just waiting for such a time as this, the right time to be seen. Hosea 3:23 reminds me that God says, “I will plant her for myself in the land…” I am a planting of the Lord.

Each time I have come to the conference, the Lord has planted another seed. This year my desire to attend is two-fold. Yes, I still hold on to a silly notion of one day being a published author. But, quite honestly, this year, spiritually speaking, the garden of my heart has experienced some difficult tilling and is in need of some fertilizing.

I understand that ground needs to be cultivated and ploughed for growth to occur, but that doesn’t mean we have to enjoy the process. I stare at the date required for the submission of these scholarship entries, realizing that day, March 11, 2011, for the first time, I am scheduled to meet with an oncologist at the hospital to discuss further findings and possible treatment. An adversary has trespassed on garden ground that is not his, trying desperately to snatch the seed within me. My life feels more like a forsaken, forgotten garden. Registering for the conference this year, when the winds of uncertainty are blowing over this fallow field, is a huge step of faith. I hear the huffing and puffing of the enemy who longs to steal, kill and destroy. Oh how I pray the forecast ahead will be kind.

I lean into the swirling flow of nature’s energy and listen. I have a loving, powerful God who can produce vineyards and fruit in places of wilderness. There is growth to be born and birthed in this current climate. He will come to me like the spring rain, bringing a downpour of peace and joy. Fear wants to leave the soil barren, but faith issues an invitation to come to the garden, whispering that God is creating a new variety of flower, one whose season it is to bloom in the middle of a miracle.

("Wick" is a term used frequently in 'The Secret Garden'. It is used to describe something that still has the hope of life inside.)

This post was written as a submission for the She Speaks Scholarship opportunity.

More Than a Fairytale

I've always enjoyed fairytales. A story of a handsome Prince. A beautiful Princess. Love sought. Romance. Purity. A time when just holding hands awakened feelings deep within. Eyes meet. Heart beats quicken. Pulses race. The unfolding of dreams. Simplicity. Royalty marrying commoner. Identities hidden. Position denied. Glass slippers cherished. Authenticity embraced. Honesty rewarded. Love found. The famous last words, "And they all lived happily ever after". I'm so thankful for their happiness, but the greater point is that they lived.

Often I wish I could crawl inside the pages of those fairytales. Life wasn't perfect. Hardships were everywhere. Damsels were in distress. Dragons needed slaying. Robin Hoods stole from the rich to give to the poor. Wicked witches poisoned apples and evil step-mothers imprisoned step-daughters. Yet, even within all the heartache, there was such passion. Passion to live. Passion to love.

Where are the Cinderella's of our day? Women who rise from adversity because they have been rescued from a life of slavery by the King of Kings? To borrow a title from Robert Munsch, sadly, too much of life is lived as the "Paper Bag Princess."

Circumstances steal our joy. Dragons smash our dreams and breathe fire to consume us. Our castles tumble. Breathing becomes our existence. Routine fills our day. Nothing excites us. We've lost our joy.

Life is meant to be lived. Christ came to give us not just life, but life to the full (John 10:10). Waking up every morning needs to overwhelm us with unexplainable delight. God has given us one more day. The Creator of the Universe meets with us a new each morning. Our Prince has rescued us. Royalty has married commoner. Vows pierced on a wooden cross. Promises made. Sin forgiven. We've been clothed in gowns of righteousness. A tiara of salvation adorns our head. The Kingdom is my royal inheritance. The Prince finds me lovely. I'm His choice for the first dance at the Grand Ball. His Hand is offered. I place my hand, my life, my trust in His.

One day, our Prince will come again.

Happy Valentine's Day Friends! Love to you all!

Whirlwind

“Then the LORD answered Job from the whirlwind” Job 40:6

This was the first verse in my daily reading the other morning, and quite honestly I didn’t need to read any further. God had spoken.

I have been unable to write here for quite some time. Some of you know the “whirlwind” that has attacked. Some of the ‘damages’ are visual, some hidden, but all have left me confused and unable to focus. Reading and writing have both become a challenge. Thoughts swirl and I’m unable to catch them and string them together with any clarity or coherence. I am in that whirlwind.

A whirlwind is defined as a weather phenomenon in which a vertically, rotating column of air forms due to instabilities and turbulence created by heating and current gradients. Whirlwinds occur all over the world and in any season. They are described as being a violent or destructive force, impetuous and speedy.

A whirlwind has swept me up in its clutches. My life is defined right now by instability and turbulence created by the heat and current of circumstances, medical exams, Dr’s reports, surgery dates and emotions. Whirlwinds can occur anywhere at any time. I am caught in that rotating column of air that is threatening to spin my life out of control. The weather in my "season" is unsettled. BUT...God can answer me from the whirlwind. FROM the whirlwind. Do you know what that means? Can you grasp the reality of what that is saying? He's in there with me. I am not alone. That brings a sense of calm and peace to the swirling currents already. He's in there....with me...and so until He speaks, I am going to reach over for His Hand and hold tight, because He is IN THIS current phenomenon.

And…what is a phenomenon? Why, it’s a remarkable development. It is extremely unusual and extraordinary. In its original Greek it means, that which appears or is seen. God allows whirlwind experiences because He desires to do something marvellous and significant in our lives so that others will see Him. He desires to make my life phenomenal and He wants me, and others watching, to see Him in the whirlwind. A whirlwind makes God visible.

It surprises me the singularity of the definition of a whirlwind. It’s “a” current, “a” column, “a” force. Does it not often seem like a whirlwind is multiple storms? Maybe it’s because of all the debris it acquires when we allow it to gain momentum in our hearts. Our minds race ahead and accumulate worthless what if’s, worry and urgency. Trust me, I’ve been there.

Has an unstable disturbance rocked your world recently? Is your life currently characterized by disjointed thoughts, sleeplessness, change in appetite, anxiety, concern, back aches, racing heart and agitation? You too are in a whirlwind, but you are not alone. God came to Job not only with an answer, but AS the answer. Insert your name in the verse above, “Then the LORD answered Joy from the whirlwind”.

Today as I sit poised in the unknown with decisions still ahead, I will be listening for God to speak to me from the whirlwind.

Choosing Not to See

Disappointed in not finding the item I was searching for, I headed for the store exit. Funny, I had felt so compelled to stop here. I hadn't left the house planning on coming this way, but an inner voice had persuaded my direction. Now I was frustrated. It was freezing cold outside. I really hadn't had the time for this extra stop in my travels. I needed to get home. My husband just had oral surgery and I should be checking on him and playing "nurse".

My departure was detained by a young woman leaving the store. At first I didn't see why she was walking so slowly. Completely immersed in my own little world, I was unaware of her need. Upon closer observation I realized she was pushing a baby stroller with one hand, while pulling a fully loaded cart with the other. A human "train" so to speak. She obviously was doing some Christmas shopping and had been more fortunate than I by the appearance of the shopping carts contents.

As she headed towards the parking lot struggling to keep all her treasures within her grasp, a thought filled my mind. Joy, offer to help her. Immediately that idea was dismissed. The kind gesture was counteracted, convincing me such an act would be foolish. I reasoned that she would refuse my help. These days everyone is skeptical of others who offer their services. She would be concerned about 'stranger danger'. She certainly wouldn't allow me to push her stroller, and I questioned, would she trust me with hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise? Offering to help would only make her nervous. She was handling everything alright. I should just leave her alone.

I turned a blind eye. I chose not to see. I walked to my car. Unlocked the door. Sat inside. Glanced quickly back. Then it happened. As she tried to maneuver it all over the curb, the shopping cart swayed and several of her items fell to the pavement. Frustration and exhaustion were written all over her face. As she picked up the skillet, looking for dents, I could almost hear her sigh and see the tear. How could she do it all? Care for an infant, shop, look after all the details of Christmas, and in this unbelievably cold weather too. Surely her baby would rather be at home sleeping in a cozy crib, but she had gifts to buy and time was running out. So much needed to be done. She was so weary.

And there I sat. In a warm car. Opportunity missed. Stricken with guilt gut.

The image of her face at that moment still haunts me. My heart is aching with my own selfishness. I can't turn back time. How I wish I could.

Yes, I know many of you would have helped without hesitation. You would have even gone the second mile, loading her car, returning her cart, making Jesus visible. I made a wrong decision. No excuses. No justifying. Just remorse.

Oh Lord, how I pray it’s not too late. Please don’t give up on me. I don’t want to live a life that is shy of Your best for me. Please forgive me for the many times I have not obeyed Your voice. I can’t go back, but I can move forward. Help me become someone You can turn to and say, “I’ll ask Joy. She embraces My plans for her, trusts Me and steps out in faith.”

I had felt compelled to go to this store, yet I didn't purchase one thing or understand the promptings neccessity. I believe now that God placed me there for the purpose of being His hands and feet to a young mom in need, but instead of letting her meet Jesus in an over crowded parking lot, I said 'no' and walked away. And so tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and all my tomorrow's, I will be looking for that one in need. For the weary and wounded. For the broken and betrayed. For the forgotten and forsaken. For the lonely and the loveless. For the abused and abandoned. For the busy and the burdened. For the harried and the harassed. For whoever God places in my path. I will listen for His voice. I will risk rejection. I will face fear. I will combat complacency. I will choose Christlikeness. I will live loud. I will say 'yes'. I hope....

What about you?

"Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity." Colossians 4:5 (TLB)