Hallelujah

I am a Christian. In first grade we were at recess one day. I was in line to climb the monkey bars. I had just dropped from the rings and landed wrong such that I came slamming down on the potato sized 'tan bark'; that's what we called it. The rip in the knees of my hand-me-down jeans (with double cuffs so that they fit) got even larger. No blood, so on to the next gravity testing device. The girl behind me asked what religion I was. I responded, "I am a Christian." Later, I understood that I was also a Mormon and was sub-categorized as to the type of Christian that I was. Later, in High School, I was ridiculed by teachers and students alike for being the wrong kind of Christian, or for believing in God at all. Through all this I felt in my heart that monikers don't matter. I always knew that God was there and that He loved me.
As Mormons we tend to express our faith quietly and feel our exhilaration inwardly. Our hallelujahs are in our hymns while our amens remain in our prayers. While in Connecticut, new members to our faith would often express their emotions in our meetings with the language to which they were accustom. Praise the Lord and Praise God would be loudly heard. I often wished that I had the courage to do the same. But my culture was different.
Today has been a really good day. My health score is 98.6. It started with a visit to a friend whose father miraculously recovered from a deadly brain cancer four years ago. But now it is coming back. We spoke of life and death, faith and hope, and ultimately we arrived at that unanswerable question, "why do some live while others die?" This is a hard question. Two soldiers in war: one dies one survives. Two teens in a car accident; two patients with the same disease. All were being prayed for. What does this mean to the faith of those praying? Why is it essential that we require cause and effect for all outcomes, whether good or bad? Then come the theological non sequiturs. "Why did God actively cause this death?" "Why did God passively allow this death?" and finally, "God is cruel, so I will reject Him." I truly do not understand these sentiments as they go against everything that I understand about this world and God. Bad things happen for both random and human controlled reasons. God understands and supports us thereby allowing us to then respond in a way that teaches us who we really are and what we are capable of. To do otherwise would rob us of our true purpose for existence. Yet, there are also times when we feel His influence leading us to miraculous moments. I do not now nor likely ever will understand why these outcome differences exist. I defer to His wisdom.
Then one day a few weeks ago I realized that I had it backwards. Death is not a curse, it is a blessing. Well, maybe not to the individual dying, rather to our world as a whole. Imagine, for a minute, a world in which there was no death. What would it be like? What defines a cancer cell? It is a cell that never dies; it is immortal. This would be fine if the cell was also perfect. On the contrary, these cells are corrupted. They do bad and unnatural things. It would be the same with immortal humans. They would remain selfish and vengeful. When the space and resources eventually ran low the stronger, more clever and cunning ones would subjugate and contain the rest for eternity. It would be hell on earth. Immortality only works with perfected souls.
In life we fulfill our purpose. In death we move on. It is the loved that remain who feel the pain. This may be why we choose not to talk about death; yet it is not a failure of faith rather its fulfillment.
Barbie commented this evening that she has noticed that my health has significantly improved over the last few months, even on chemotherapy. She is right. I feel wonderful most of the time. I tried to think of a reason why I am doing so well. My logic remained vacant. All I was left with was the strong feeling to consider God's continuing miracles in my life.

Praise God! Hallelujah! Amen and amen.

Kevin

Small Victories-

Eagle River, Alaska

I looked on Yahoo news, but I didn't find it. I did find out that two celebrities were wearing the same dress at the same event and that another sports figure did something stupid. But there was no mention of the woman that called me on the phone today. She wanted to tell me that she had received a new heart and that she was a changed person. This is huge. She was going to die very soon and now she will not. I did not wonder why this was not big news in all of the major venues. She is not famous. She is just like the rest of us. And what a blessing that is.
I met her and her husband in February. She was an inpatient and was placed on the transplant list that very day. I was there for my semi-annual heart biopsy. She had heard of me and wanted to ask me some questions. She has primary AL amyloidosis and was in much worse condition that I had been prior to my new heart. But, she was initially afraid and did not want a heart transplant. Finally, with her doctors' urging and her husband's support, she acquiesced and agreed to go on the list. But she was still nervous. When Barbie and I entered her room she was surprised to see how healthy I looked. We answered her questions and named her fears such that they no longer lurked in the darkness of uncertainty. When we parted she was visibly relieved and increased in hope.
I knew from what she told me of her symptoms that without a heart transplant she would not be long for this world. I silently prayed that the heart would come soon. It did. Within a month I got word from her husband that she had an uneventful surgery and recovery. She had an early heart rejection, but this was reversed with ridiculously high doses of I.V. steroids (Solumedrol: nasty stuff) and has done well since.
She called me today to ask when she should be rechecked as to the status of her amyloidosis. We discussed this and her new side-effects. She spoke of a wicked 'Prograf' tremor (Prograf is the major anti-rejection medicine that we take everyday, forever.) This causes a bad 'intention' tremor. This type of tremor gets worse as the effort at fine motor movement increases. So when the spoon begins at the bowl, it is not that bad. However, when it finally reaches the lips it is like eating soup on a roller coaster during an earthquake with a magnitude of 7.2 on the Richter scale. It is messy. I reassured her that this would greatly improve in 9 - 12 months. I gave her suggestions on managing her light-headedness after sitting for long periods. Barbie and I reminisced on how we never knew what the cause of all of my early side-effects were and how it would have been nice to have someone to call. The doctors tried, but patients understand these thing better; we live through them every day.
It was amazing to hear her describe her new life. She is no longer short of breath; no more oxygen tanks. The defibrillator vest is gone. No more pain when eating. And the nasty swelling in the legs is gone. She now walks a mile a day. What a miracle.
This should be momentous news; such an amazing event. But it happens to regular folk every day all over the world.
Fame is a funny thing. Some people actually seek it, but they are always disappointed.They often proffer some salacious tidbit that immediately vaporizes into cyberspace as they remain unsatisfied. Fame is an empty promise. I define fame as when 51% of the people who have ever heard of you have never met you. I would rather be famous among 50; within a small group whose lives you have touched while becoming better for having met them, either physically or through our ever expanding virtual world.
In this group we know each other. We share our stories and listen and understand. We give hope to each other and enlighten the path for those that follow. In this group we are each enriched as we share our small victories

Kevin