Faith When I Fall
"I know it's been a long time since the last time we talked. I know I've been a stranger and that's all my fault. And asking you for anything don't really seem right, but the winds of change are blowing so I'm begging you tonight. Give me love when I ain't got nobody, a little hope when I ain't got none at all. Give me light up ahead on a journey, give me strength when I'm standing…and faith when I fall." - Kip Moore
I grew up in the Catholic church. Not literally in the church, obviously. But I spent 10 years of my life as a dedicated student of St. Aloysius. I donned the red and blue plaid and hideous polos and pushed the limits on the “knee length” skirt rule. I was baptized and confirmed at the appropriate ages. I received my first communion and then experienced the terror every catholic middle school student goes through and suffered through my first reconciliation. I spent Saturday nights having sleepovers at the Tobin’s house, playing “ninja turtles” with my cousins, only to be dragged to 8:00 a.m. mass by Uncle Mike every Sunday… WITHOUT FAIL. I believed, I prayed, I did everything I was supposed to.
But then something changed. That something, in case you were wondering, was an acceptance to the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Since I left home and ventured off on my own for the first time 13 years ago, I can honestly say that I can count on two hands the number of times I have been to church. It’s not that I stopped believing or that I stopped caring, it’s just that life happened. Or more specially freedom happened. Freedom andddddd a handful of long Saturday nights at the Kollege Klub. 😏
I’m not telling you this because it’s something that I’m proud of. I’m telling you this because of what it has allowed me to realize about myself, and my faith, over the last 13 years. Church is an amazing place. Sometimes all you need is a solid hour filled with God an uplifting sermon to change your perspective on life…even if it’s just for a day.
But sometimes, in between the bouts of anxiety and restlessness that feels like it might actually kill you, it’s hard to think about faith. When life is terrifying and horrible and unfair and your mind aches as much as much as your heart does, it’s hard to hold onto hope.
I will never forget the day dad called me at work after mom’s initial procedure where we learned that something was terribly, terribly wrong. I stumbled into my sweet boss’s office and collapsed on the floor. Hysterical and inconsolable, I remember looking up at her with tears streaming down my face and saying, “I think I need to start going back to church.” And you want to know what she said to me? She looked me straight in the eyes and said “Maggie, church is wherever you make it.”
She couldn’t have been more right.
I am a firm believer that peace and faith can be found in a lot of different places. On a hike through the mountains, on a long drive, through music, or in writing (😊). Some believe in the power of meditation while others find faith in their relationships with friends or spouses. For others, maybe it’s working out or yoga… and let me tell you, if you’ve never cried your eyes out while holding a Warrior Two pose, then you need to find a new yoga instructor.
Faith is finding light in your darkest, loneliest of nights. It can bring you to your knees or it can be what literally gets you out of bed each day. Faith doesn't always have to relate to religion. It can simply be trusting in something without proof. And it’s something I hold on to with everything I have.
After my divorce, I was in a really bad place. I felt hopeless and worthless and like nothing would ever feel right again. I ended up reading a book called Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle. I can truly say that this book changed my life. I flew through it in record speed, highlighting, dog-earing and underlining so many amazing parts that just spoke to me. This Glennon lady just got me, ya know? I flipped through it again this afternoon and landed on a few pages that I just needed today. They reminded me how important it is to hold on to your faith, even when it feels the hardest.
“The word disaster comes from astro: stars, and dis: without. This will only be a disaster if I lose all awareness of light. Likewise, crisis comes from the word meaning to sift. Let it all fall away and you’ll be left with what matters. And what matters most cannot be taken away.”
My faith that mom will survive this cannot be taken away. How does one adjust to something that may never be the same? You hold on to the light, that’s how. You hold on to your faith.
So that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Last Tuesday mom headed back to the hospital to meet with her team of doctors and began phase two of her treatment. Her platelet count was up to 104, the highest it's been since she started her chemo. Dr. Alqwasmi said that it will plummet again, but that he’s intent on proceeding with the weekly chemo treatments anyway because since he’s giving her the treatments as a CURE (his word), he’d rather be consistent. So, we’re happy about that.
He also said that after Phase II is complete, he will wait a couple of weeks and then they will have a discussion around surgery to remove any remaining tumor. Mom was insistent again that she doesn’t want it and while he said that he understood, it would be a discussion that needs to happen regardless.
When it comes to eating, she was told that she won’t notice any changes for a week or two, but then she should see a big improvement which will make her think that she is cured. It won’t last unfortunately. The radiation will start killing the cancerous cells, but it will also burn the surrounding healthy throat tissue which will make eating and swallowing difficult and painful.
As far as any other symptoms, she’ll start experiencing more hair loss, an intense sore throat, nausea, and tingling in her hands and feet. For chemo, she’ll be receiving Paclitaxel and Carboplatin. So that’s about it so far. Her blood work is good and Dr. Alqwasmi is optimistic. Her chemo treatments, which will be administered once a week, will only take around 3.5 hours this time vs 5, but radiation will still be every day.
Please continue to pray for mom… in whatever way works best for you. I know she appreciates it and I do too. All the kind words we receive from you all just mean the world.
xo
PS - Here is the song if you want all the feel goods.