Oh, just keep on keeping on.

Dear Mr. Hodgkin's,

Do you ever have days where you just can't seem to shake a gloomy thought or a cynical cerebation?  No matter how unruly or ridiculous it is, you just can't break through the fog.  Hmm, that seemed to be my week.  Regardless of the positive change in my treatment plan, the precious time spent celebrating my parent's 28th anniversary (woot, woot), and the heartfelt conversations with friends that lasted well past midnight... I could not break free from the murkiness that overrode my attitude.  Humph.  I increasingly became frustrated; why was I able to stay so strong and positive when circumstances were rough, but when chemo is coming to a close and my situation more than hints of healing (even sooner than expected), I am unable to take heart?  What the heck.  I couldn't help but chide myself; Heidi Lee, get a grip.  Even as I write these words, the voices of Bethel Music and Jeremy Riddle echo in my mind as they sing: "God, pull on the strings of my heart for I long to respond to You." 

You see, sir, I'm a feeler; I delight in experiencing joy when I can't even suppress a squeal or the call of compassion when my heart breaks for a hurting friend.  Life is marked by a depth, a richness when a heart is given free reign to feel.... and I surely give it free reign to feel.  StrengthsFinder (it always goes back to this assessment) tells me that my Empathy strength "is instinctively aware of people's feelings and can feel the depths of another's pain or jubilation."  Here's a perfect example: when I read the second book in the Twilight series, New Moon, Bella was abandoned by Edward, and by refusing to make her a vampire, he denied his love for her.  Here's the thing: I don't like vampires. I don't even get into sci-fi.  When I originally heard the plot of these books, I wrote it off as a series I would never read... But despite all my attempts to avoid these books, curiousity got the best of me and I couldn't help but wonder what all the huff was about.  Picking up the first book, I was hooked within mere pages.  Fast-forward: I could resonate so intensely that until I read the part where the couple reunited, I felt disheartened and moped around the house, almost like I myself had just gone through the break-up.  Ha, ridiculous, I know, but I can't seem to help myself.  

In real life though, I used to see this level of feeling as a weakness.  Used to coax myself to toughen up.  I even used to pray for the Lord to harden my heart, so I wasn't affected by such strong emotions.  However, I've learned and am continually learning how gracious my Lord is in keeping my heart soft in this hardened world.  How deeply feminine it is to have a gentle spirit.  And what a call and privilege it is to feel what breaks His heart and to feel the joy of the life He breathes.  With that being said though, when there are days of indifference and melancholy like the ones I've had in these past couple of weeks, you can imagine how much of a bummer this is to me. 

Wednesday came and I was still spinning my wheels in this funk I found myself in.  But just like every week, I headed to Revolution (our senior high program at Eagle Brook) for yet another night of connecting with small group leaders and out of control students.  I have to tell you, Mr. Hodgkin's, I thoroughly enjoy the set our worship team plays almost every week, and this time was no different.  The song I mentioned to you last week Give Me Faith by Elevation Worship played yet again; unlike last week though, I had begun singing the song with my mouth but could not seem to stir up any emotion.  The bridge hit and my voice sang, "I may be weak, but your Spirit's strong in me.  My flesh my fail, but my God, You never will."  And it was in the second repeat that my heart finally began to give way.  It was there standing in the rows amongst students that I declared these truths even though my spirit had a hard time feeling it.  But after each repeat, the iciness of my negative thoughts that had been building began to melt.  And it was then I realized a truth that struck a chord so deep.... sir, even when I don't feel it, I will declare it.  Yes, I thoroughly enjoy feeling, but those waver and wane just as much as they hold and persist.  In those moments, I need to choose truth; for His Word never changes and His promises are real.  They are more real than my perception of reality.  Sara Groves reverberates this truism in her song Open My Hands: "I believe in a Fountain that will never dry though I've thirsted and didn't have enough.  Thirst is no measure of His faithfulness; He withholds no good thing from us."  When I thirst, I choose to declare He satisfies in His wise and precise timing... because that's what His Word says and that's reality.

So today, that's my attempt; I am embracing my predicament.  I realize this week will mark my last treatment of white blood cell injections and chemo... and I am so ready to be rid of both.  So ready to stop sweating and then shaking by my body's ever-fluctuating temperature.  So ready to brush my own hair.  So ready to taste morning breath instead of this metallic flavor when I wake up.  So ready to be normal and treated like a regular person than this vulnerable being I'm sometimes portrayed as.  Man, I don't know how people do this for months, sometimes years, longer than I have to.  I give thanks to my germ-infested Kid-Os who built up my immune system to what it is because I can't imagine my body having more difficulty than it already has.  Mad props to all my chemo peeps all over the world (for some reason, so much of me just wanted to shout out, "Peace to the world" just like the Spice Girls. Didn't you have that same compulsion?).  So what's the next battle before us?  Radiation.  Others have cringed when I've said that word, but I'm actually excited.  My body won't be wholly affected like chemo does, my hair will be allowed to grow back, and it's the last stage in this plan to defeat you, sir.  I just need to get past this last treatment first..... eh.  I hate chemo.  There will be no good-bye party for her, that's for sure.  Friday cannot come soon enough.

Yours Truly,
Heidi