Last week ended on a high note and Labor Day Monday was a beautiful sunny day.  I went back-to-school shopping with the family, mowed the lawn, weed whacked, lifted weights, and went on a short bike ride with the girls.  That evening Lisha cooked an awesome dinner which included roasted garlic cloves, considered a “superfood”.  I love them so had 5 or 6 spread on some bread and went to bed feeling great.  It was not to last.  I woke up about 12:15 not feeling great.  I tossed and turned the next 4 hours with waves of nausea rolling over me.

About 4 a.m. it hit me full force and showed little mercy.  By 4:10 it was over and last I looked at the clock it was 4:30.

I stayed home from work on Tuesday but still had to make the 2 ½ hour hike in to the city for radiation and an appointment with the medical oncologist.  He was optimistic that it was a one-off event after over-doing it on Monday.

There was relief that this was unlikely to be the new normal although Tuesday night was a fitful sleep with anxiety.  I woke Alisha up with my tossing and turning and told her my fear.  I rolled over and she put her hand on my back.  I knew she was praying for me.  I fell asleep quickly but the rough night on Monday had set the tone for the week.

I stretched out my work days to 5:15 which means that with my 2 hour commute I get home a little after 7 for dinner.  Since I have to take my chemo pills on an empty stomach (2 hours after my meal) it pushes my bed time down the road.  Later bed times followed by longer work days, including several hours on the weekend and I could sense the pressure and fatigue ramping up.

I slept ok Friday night but it wasn’t a good catch-up rest.  I didn’t feel very good physically as my congestion left over from the fires seemed to get worse.  The more the day wore on the more my mind followed my body.

Some good friends and family have been going through some scary, difficult times.  They have really been in my thoughts and prayers the past week.  Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of projects planned for summer that had to be left undone.  When I walked down the streets in Seattle the sidewalks were filled with the smiling faces of people who clearly had no medical issues that made me long for those days that were care free relatively speaking and that I had taken for granted.  I could see how hard Alisha is having to work now and it’s hard for a man who grew up watching my grandfather and father daily toil to provide for their families.  It was a heavy load mentally to bear in the moment.

Sunday was a little better.  I slept well and the congestion and stuff in my chest seemed better.  Lisha and I went for a bike ride in the afternoon and it was a good chance to talk.

One of the things I realized I had lost sight of was the advice of my Aunt, “take it one day at a time and be patient with the process.”  I had journeyed down the road in both directions, future and past.  Fear lurks in the future like a building sea waiting to capsize a ship as it tries to keep a true course.  Sadness chases you down from the past, grabbing at your heels attempting to trip up your progress.  It is a daily, sometimes hourly, challenge to stay in the day.

There is a bible verse that has helped me stay in the present over the past several weeks.  I repeated it over and over in my mind my first week of radiation treatment.  To ensure success in the treatment, a plastic mask shaped in the exact form of your face is pressed tightly against your head and snapped securely to the bed.  This keeps your head from moving out of position during the treatment.  It can also be a frightening, claustrophobic experience.

During the first week of treatment the verse that kept me calm is Isaiah 26:3.

“You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You.”

There is something immediate and continuous about this verse that helps keep me in the present moment as I search for that peace.

One word in particular catches my attention.  As someone who has lived on a sailboat for 4 years and spent many weeks sailing both the inland waters of Puget Sound and at sea on my friend Mark’s boat, the word “stayed” has special significance.

A “stay” on a sailboat is a cable or strong rope that extends from the upper part of a mast and is strongly secured, or stayed to the deck of the boat.  The purpose of the stay is to support the mast in strong winds or heavy seas.  It keeps the mast from toppling over and disabling the boat.

Mark and I have been on a boat when a stay broke.  The mast of the small sailboat came crashing down when we were well offshore in the Gulf of Mexico.  There we helplessly drifted hoping we would drift to shore instead of out to sea.

As Alisha and I mentally wrestle with how our lives have changed, one thing is sure.  Keeping our mind “stayed” on the firm deck of God helps us keep in the present and provides security when the seas break or a strong wind threatens to disable me with fear or sadness as it did last week and leaves us drifting out at sea.