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After five weeks of radiation I was finally done, today was the last day. I had been served by some great health care professionals. The smiles and pleasantries of these professionals made it worth my while to drive into town every day for treatment. I met quite a few others with similar health issues. We bonded while sharing our individual stories. Today I met the lady whose ipad I had found in the waiting room a few weeks ago and returned the next day. She thanked me for returning it explaining how upset she had been to have lost it. I saw the doctor, got my final treatment, a nice certificate of completion and was out of there. Graduating was sweet. But the day hadn't started out so sweet. At my GP's office I wouldn't be seen because I had forgotten my co-payment. Oh well, blame it on the insurance companies. The receptionist told me my doctor would work me in the next day. To that I said, “I don't think so. You see this therapy I'm taking drains me and I don't want to sit in this waiting room waiting to get worked in.” I left after speaking to the nurse telling her to make sure the doctor knew I had been there for my appointment and I would see her in four months. Although I forgot to put the check in my purse to pay for my co-payment , I left the GP's office with a sour taste in my mouth. I had been a patient there for over seven years. But I guess rules were rules. This particular medical network was very strict. I found in another instance that after my insurance paid for x-rays the balance that was not paid by insurance was sold to a “zombie” company. This was getting to be too much. The visit I had with the radiation department at the other hospital made up for the irritation I felt at my general practioner's office. The professionals in radiation were empathetic to my needs, where as the general practioner's office didn't seem to have a clue about making people feel comfortable. I wondered if it were even necessary to see the general practioner since I was being treated by so many other doctors. You won't have to worry about me and my missing co-payment.

Testimony an Excerpt from The Butterfly Journal

"I will never leave you nor forsake you." The words from Joshua 1:5 leapt off the pages of my bible. The flood of emotions were real and caused me to understand that although the past seven years had been tumultuous The Lord was showing mercy and love toward me. Everyday now was becoming a blessing. But, in the midst of our trials my husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer. His surgery and subsequent treatments went well and he was able to return to work in a few weeks. Thank God for insurance! Other than his health we did not discuss our other concerns with the church. As pastor, he continued to lead by example and continued to give from his income, giving tithes and offering and sometimes paying the mortgage on the church were decisions about which he appeared not to waiver. Our beautiful dream home was dust in the wind. The mortgage crisis took its toll and collectively we began to lose everything. Moving to a three bedroom apartment in a gated community was a no brainer. It was beautiful and would turn out to be a financial blessing. A rent reduction after a year and another as I became the after school tutor for the community children made this an affordable place to live. I had stopped substitute teaching and devoted my time to the after school program. As the complex grew, societal issues of loud neighbors, fighting, theft, gunshots made me long for the solitude of my own space again. This nice segue to home living after four years of apartment living minimized my fears about the future. We were on our way to recovery. The only one complaining was the son who did not have wheels. No buses drove through this community as before at the dream home. While unpacking boxes I reminisced the past. It was coming to a close but not quick enough. Health issues caused me to seek professionals to first discover the condition of my joints. That settled, another issue crept up causing me to seek the advice of my regular gynecologist. The dreaded "C" word entered our conversation after she had done an extensive exploratory in that region of my body. One exploratory and one surgery later we thought we got most of the cancer that had begun to develop in my uterus. My attitude toward this new challenge was that it too would pass. There were reasons that I had developed endometrial cancer; obeisity and heredity. We had lost one sister to cancer, another was battling breast cancer and now me. Feeling sorry for myself was not an option. I had too many instructions from the Lord to go out without fulfilling them. Everyday I could feel myself growing stronger. I continued to write; my blogs were inspirational and never mentioned my health. Editing my first book for revision occupied a great deal of time, attending the new church with a great pastor and wonderful brothers and sisters in the Lord invigorated my walk with Him. In the midst of this all I was excited about the new possibilities that were overtaking me. I was emerging as a writer, a motivator an inspiration to my sister networks. Thankful, grateful and a receipient of new mercies I am filled with joy. Confession and forgiveness of my sins allowed me to grow in Christ. Finding the important things and people in my life also showed me the reason for this trial. As I payed attention I began to see that I had to let more people into my secure little box of self-dependence. In so doing Christ would shine through me and draw more people to Him. At the right place and season I would declare, "Butterfies are free!" "There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee." Joshua 1:5

Favor is Fair

It's 3:30AM and I have been awakened by the screeching noise of the smoke alarm. If I had been more alert to detect the difference in cigeratte smoke and food burning on the stove smoke I would have gotten out of bed and checked long before the siren blarred. I will not name the culprit of this hazard in order to protect the guilty.

After excitedly calling fire, fire my husband and I rushed to the kitchen to see what was happening. The house was filled with nasty, smelly smoke and on the stove was a smoking pot and somebody was asleep in front of the television. We began to open doors and check the fuse box for the panel that would shut off the alarms. Thank God we had put fresh batteries in all of the detectors.

Memories of my childhood are awakened as I smell this smoke and I think of my Big Mama's house that burned down one day. Mama's house was the central home for family gatherings and sometimes my mom would let me spend the night with mama. Losing this safe haven was like losing a precious refuge.

Thinking about mama, God rest her soul, I remember one evening sitting on the floor in the living room watching one of my favorite shows. Mama and my mother were in another room talking and doing hair. They had opened the windows to let the fumes of pomade meeting a hot comb escape. The breeze from the summer night felt good as I sat with my ebows resting on my knees and hands under my chin as the images of cowboys played across the screen.

From my peripherial I could see a shadow. I turned from my show to see a man's head and shoulders coming through the window. "Mama, mama!" I screamed. "Mama, mama a man is coming in the window!" My grandmother came rushing into the room with her thick broom and went straight for the man's head. She yelled to my mom, "Will get the gun, get the gun."

That man hurried back out of the window and onto the enclosed porch, out the door and down the steps. My mother came in to the room empty handed looking to see the excitement and my grandmother rushing out to the porch. I don't know what she would have done if she had caught the man and he turned on her. Stunned, I was not able to cry or move. I couldn't tell my mother anything. When my grandmother came back in the house she looked at me and asked if I were okay. I was fine and happy that she had come to the rescue.

My mother waited for an explanation and when it was given she asked her mother, "why did you tell me to get the gun? You know you don't have a gun."

"That was the first thing that popped in my head. It must have been the Lord." My grandmother said.

What the man had in mind is still a mystery to me. I can't help but think now that maybe he would have kidnapped me or beat me or any other vile thing that evil men do to children. From my perspective, perhaps he thought I was home alone. It was the grace of God that saved us that day, just as He saved us this morning from a near fire. Favor with God is fair!

I had to laugh at myself this morning when I pulled out my juicer from under the cabinet. It had been sitting there collecting dust, greasy dust for a few months. This nice little invention hadn't been used in almost six months. After we moved from the apartment I decided I would start using it again. As I washed and cleaned up the parts I thought I should try the on switch to make sure the motor was still running. Now everything was in working order so I placed a few slices of tomatoe in the cavity and bam here comes the juice. Flowing all over the counter I reached for a paper towel. What I forgot was to place a glass under the spout to catch the juice. Picture me in a paper towel commercial. The things we forget when we don't practice is a reminder to practice the things we don't want to forget. Bon appetite`.

ER Drama

I do not like having to go to the emergency room at the hospital and I especially do not like having to wait seven hours to see a doctor. The apparatus the hospital installed at my last surgery seemed to be giving me a problem. I didn't know if it was broken, clogged or causing a clot. I took my, well my husband took my scared self to the emergency room. Two hours passed before being seen by ancilliary nurses and technicians, two hours passed before being placed in an exam room and three hours passed before I announced boisterously that I had had it and was leaving. The ER manager tried to calm me and tell me to not leave. Nope you want me to wait another 15 minutes for the doctor who entered my side of the room, crossed over to see the adjoining patient, listen to her exam him and tell him he had hemroids, talk to him for 15 minutes leave back through my side of the room without even acknowledging me. I DON'T THINK SO! It's time to make a change, I will be firing all of the physicians for which I am a patient at this hospital; 1) because your customer service stinks 2) because you dared to tell me that there were more serious cases that warranted me being pushed back in the cue 3) because seven hours is too long to wait for anyone 4) because your customer service stinks

My blood pressure was already up and riding home in the wee hours of the morning I had to recall the blog I posted just the day before on "When Women Pray". I knew after that post that I would be attacked. But nevertheless, my purpose for a long time has been to pray for the household of faith. I reminded myself that blog was a reminder that we should pray one for another and not be so caught up in our own stuff. But Lord, seven hours! No matter how I tried to get myself to think about someone else after seven hours it was all about me again and what I needed for my health and safety. Normally I am the calmest one that anyone knows, but when it comes to my health I am a tiger. And I literally had to tell the ER Manager that I was fighting for my life and that they needed to get right or get left. When the regular survey arrives in the mail, I will take great care in letting you know of my great displeasure. For now I have to find another doctor!

When Women Pray

There was a senior missionary that had been instructed by the Lord to begin an early morning prayer at her home church. So successful was the prayer that the women were gathering to join in, people were coming into the prayer before going to work and they had even established a drive by prayer line. What? The drivers would drive around the church like a drive through to receive prayer each morning. The church was on a spiritual high and so the missionary continued with her mission from the Lord. Just when things were getting better she discovered she had been stricken with cancer. Why? With the evilness within him, the enemy tried to take the missionary out. But, she continued in her calling and asked the women to continue meeting for prayer. She knew that the affliction was for a season, a testimony of the healing power of God.
The enemy knows when women start to pray things start to change for the better. Households are transformed, finances begin to flow, men who are influenced by women become warriors for the things of God. As more and more women pray situations that were deemed hopeless begin to get new life and lives are changed for the better. When one has been called to a life of prayer it is always met with opposition from the enemy. The rewards of obeying the call to prayer are so much more precious than mere inconveniences. One should not dwell on the inconveniences but use them as fuel to wreck havoc against the plans of the enemy. As for the senior missionary, she is alive and well and has just celebrated her 80th birthday!