I began blogging 5 years ago. Took a couple years off to nurse a Facebook addiction with periodic spurts here and there.
It takes a few years of age to say that five years is a short span of time, so maybe I'm officially OLD but it just seems like yesterday that we moved to Georgia and my boys were 11, 7, and 3. Today my oldest son turned 16. That deserves a blog of its own, and I'm working on that, but today my mind and heart are turned toward Pennsylvania, where my dad is in the hospital and his prognosis is grim.
We moved here in the summer of 2007. Sure, it seemed like a long way from our families, but we were used to living away, and to be honest, we didn't give that aspect a lot of thought. Until November of that year.
We were excited as we packed and headed to IL to celebrate Thanksgiving with David's family. We were there just a few minutes when David's dad asked me quietly if Glenda (David's mom) had told me about the mass she had found in her abdomen. And as the next several weeks unfolded, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had chemo in the early winter of 2008.
I have been the go-to nurse for the Balty family since I became a Balty myself, so taking medical questions from David's dad wasn't new to me. So, when he initially asked me about the gradual decline in his hemoglobin level, I wasn't alarmed. I encouraged him to get a colonoscopy to rule out bleeding from the bowel. That was negative...or positive, depending on how you look at it. But by late winter of 2008, it became more apparent that Don's problem was ominous. He was diagnosed with leukemia in June 2008, was blessed with a short remission, but went to be with the Lord in January 2009.
On the day of his funeral, my mom fell. And that began the decline of her health. 20 months later, I held her head in my arms as she stepped out of her badly broken body to walk the streets of gold.
Later the same year, we were disappointed--although not altogether surprised--that Glenda's cancer had returned. She continues to fight valiantly, but ever so slowly, the chemo is acquiescing to cancer's vicious demands.
My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1998. His was an aggressive tumor, but with radiation and hormone therapy, he's lived a full and active life for more than a decade. But cancer is winning the battle, its ugly signature in 22 places in my dad's body.
Just over five years ago, all of our parents were leading relatively normal healthy lives, but before we close the chapter of 2013, I suspect all of them will be gone.
Five years. So much change.
So, what is my point. To discourage any readers who have read this far? No! It is intended to be a reminder to me:
1. Life is short.
(Psalm 39:4-5)
“Lord, reveal to me the end of my life and the number of my days .Let me know how short-lived I am. You, indeed, have made my days short in length,and my life span as nothing in Your sight.Yes, every mortal man is only a vapor.Selah
(James 4:14)
You don’t even know what tomorrow will bring—what your life will be! For you are like smoke that appears for a little while, then vanishes.
(I Peter 1:24)
2. What you do with your time matters!
(Ephesians 5:15, 16)
“Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men, but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil”
(Matthew 6:19-21)
“Don’t collect for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But collect for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
(Ecclesiastes 3)
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: A time to give birth and a time to die . .
3. You cannot rewind the clock.
Five years. Gone. Disney is wrong, and we are not in a "circle of life." Time is linear, and the clock marks our progress toward the wonderful reality of spending eternity with Christ.So many changes. Our loved ones merely go on before us, lining the way that we travel toward heaven. I love the way the Geneva Bible (1599) describes our pilgrimage: " Wherefore,let us also, seeing that we are compassed with so great a cloud of witnesses, cast away everything that presseth down, and the sin that hangeth so fast on: let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1-2a).
It takes a few years of age to say that five years is a short span of time, so maybe I'm officially OLD but it just seems like yesterday that we moved to Georgia and my boys were 11, 7, and 3. Today my oldest son turned 16. That deserves a blog of its own, and I'm working on that, but today my mind and heart are turned toward Pennsylvania, where my dad is in the hospital and his prognosis is grim.
We moved here in the summer of 2007. Sure, it seemed like a long way from our families, but we were used to living away, and to be honest, we didn't give that aspect a lot of thought. Until November of that year.
We were excited as we packed and headed to IL to celebrate Thanksgiving with David's family. We were there just a few minutes when David's dad asked me quietly if Glenda (David's mom) had told me about the mass she had found in her abdomen. And as the next several weeks unfolded, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had chemo in the early winter of 2008.
I have been the go-to nurse for the Balty family since I became a Balty myself, so taking medical questions from David's dad wasn't new to me. So, when he initially asked me about the gradual decline in his hemoglobin level, I wasn't alarmed. I encouraged him to get a colonoscopy to rule out bleeding from the bowel. That was negative...or positive, depending on how you look at it. But by late winter of 2008, it became more apparent that Don's problem was ominous. He was diagnosed with leukemia in June 2008, was blessed with a short remission, but went to be with the Lord in January 2009.
On the day of his funeral, my mom fell. And that began the decline of her health. 20 months later, I held her head in my arms as she stepped out of her badly broken body to walk the streets of gold.
Later the same year, we were disappointed--although not altogether surprised--that Glenda's cancer had returned. She continues to fight valiantly, but ever so slowly, the chemo is acquiescing to cancer's vicious demands.
My dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 1998. His was an aggressive tumor, but with radiation and hormone therapy, he's lived a full and active life for more than a decade. But cancer is winning the battle, its ugly signature in 22 places in my dad's body.
Just over five years ago, all of our parents were leading relatively normal healthy lives, but before we close the chapter of 2013, I suspect all of them will be gone.
Five years. So much change.
So, what is my point. To discourage any readers who have read this far? No! It is intended to be a reminder to me:
1. Life is short.
(Psalm 39:4-5)
“Lord, reveal to me the end of my life and the number of my days .Let me know how short-lived I am. You, indeed, have made my days short in length,and my life span as nothing in Your sight.Yes, every mortal man is only a vapor.
(James 4:14)
You don’t even know what tomorrow will bring—what your life will be! For you are like smoke that appears for a little while, then vanishes.
(I Peter 1:24)
For All flesh is like grass and all its glory like a flower of the grass.The grass withers, and the flower falls,
2. What you do with your time matters!
(Ephesians 5:15, 16)
“Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men, but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil”
(Matthew 6:19-21)
“Don’t collect for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But collect for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don’t break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
(Ecclesiastes 3)
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: A time to give birth and a time to die . .
3. You cannot rewind the clock.
Five years. Gone. Disney is wrong, and we are not in a "circle of life." Time is linear, and the clock marks our progress toward the wonderful reality of spending eternity with Christ.So many changes. Our loved ones merely go on before us, lining the way that we travel toward heaven. I love the way the Geneva Bible (1599) describes our pilgrimage: " Wherefore,let us also, seeing that we are compassed with so great a cloud of witnesses, cast away everything that presseth down, and the sin that hangeth so fast on: let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1-2a).
Comments
I am so sorry for your pain and loss. My heart goes out to you.
Happy Birthday to your 16 year old. They grow so fast.
It is great to see you are back.
xo rachel
P.S. I hope you will come back and read today's post on my blog (well actually yesterday's second post.)
Emmy