Breast Cancer in the Time of COVID-19 Part 5: The Weirdness of it All

NOTE: For the Introduction to this series, with links to Parts 1-4, click HERE.

Now that I've written about how I found out about my breast cancer, how the battle began, the side effects of chemo, teaching online during chemo and COVID-19, my mental and emotional battle, and the support of family and friends, I want to sum it all up with this post about the utter weirdness of it all. It has been the strangest experience of my life, so far. Everything is different than I ever imagined 2020 being, and has been since January. 

It's strange enough to be told you have cancer. It feels surreal. Suddenly everything has changed, and other people are making you appointments for medical imaging, procedures, bloodwork, and chemotherapy. There isn't really any choice in the matter; if you don't have treament, the cancer will grow, and will eventually disfigure and then kill you. Your body goes into an ongoing fight-or-flight mode. At least this is how it was for me, in late January and throughout February into mid-March. Up until that point, I felt like I was handling things pretty well, juggling work and treatment and time with family and friends. But then another major event rolled into the mix.

The COVID-19 virus seemed like something far away back in January, when I was diagnosed. By mid-March, however, it was evident that this was going to affect our lives far more than we had thought. On March 11th it was declared a global pandemic, and as schools headed into Spring Break, we teachers were told that everything would be shutting down for two weeks, or more. Suddenly EVERYTHING was different. 

I knew that with a suppressed immune system I would be having to avoid large crowds and isolating myself somewhat during chemo, but I had no idea that my whole family would have to shelter at home, wearing masks to go do grocery pickup and wiping down the groceries with sanitizing wipes. We had no idea that the pandemic would last over three months, that friends of ours would lose their jobs, that the economy would be so affected, that uncertainty about infection rates, contagiousness, and personal risk would multiply, or that now, in mid-June, we would still not know when it will all be over. The anxiety of having cancer is multiplied exponentially by a health crisis of this magnitude. I'm sure it's the same for anyone with a health condition that makes them more susceptible to a virus, or with children who have underlying health issues. It feels like it affected all the areas of our life that the cancer had not yet touched.

Before the COVID-19 pandemic, I could have still been teaching, seeing friends, going out to eat, meeting with church family, and generally living a normal life except for being ultra-cautious about germs and illness. But with the shelter-in-place guidelines, all of that ceased. In a way, it took a lot of the pressure off me. I could teach from home, so if I didn't feel the greatest, I no longer had to make the decision of whether to go out and teach or call a sub. Dealing with all the side effects of chemo has most likely been easier for me because I haven't had to travel around to various locations to teach, and haven't had any pressure to go out and be social. 

Now that our state has begun opening up, it's still weird, mostly because of all the unknowns. How much longer will we have to be concerned about getting COVID-19? A few months? A year? Forever? How bad would the virus really be? Is it possible we have already all had it, or been exposed to it, and just don't know? Should we wear masks in public, or does that make us not breathe enough oxygen? How do we know what to believe that is written online? There are many things that are uncertain. 

When will our lives ever get back to normal? Or will they not? Will we have a new normal, a different way of doing things based on my having had cancer and our avoidance of COVID-19? These are still unkowns. I tend to concentrate more on the knowns: my family, my friends, the things I have to do each day, and the beauty of nature when I reflect on it. 

Fortunately, one thing has not changed during all of this: God. His presence in our lives has been a constant throughout all of this turmoil and trial. I have had peace and strength that can only come from Him. He is not surprised by all these events, and so the weirdness of it all is mitigated by the knowledge that He has a plan, even though we don't know what it is. Thus, I have had to trust Him and put my future in His hands, as I always have since the day I first began to follow Jesus Christ. My future has always been in His hands, even before I was diagnosed with cancer and before COVID-19 swept across the globe. That makes the "weirdness" seem unimportant, compared to eternal things.

And so, I conclude my official series on having cancer in the time of COVID-19, but I will continue to write about my experiences. After two more rounds of chemo I'll be having an MRI, then surgery, and then radiation. Many more blog posts to come...

Breast Cancer in the time of COVID-19 Series Part 3: My Mental and Emotional Battle

When you hear the word cancer what goes through your mind depends on your own experiences. Have you had cancer before? Has a loved one had it? What type of cancer? How did treatment go? Did they die? Was it a horrible experience? What emotions are evoked? We each have our own background and thus our own inner landscape regarding this word. When it turns out to be personal, that is, when we wind up being the ones with cancer, it launches a mental and emotional battle whether we are ready for it, or not. In my case, I was mentally ready to hear it for a variety of reasons, but I don't know if that has made this fight any easier. The mental and emotional battle, which is perhaps easier to call the spiritual battle, is an on-going, ever-changing confrontation in my mind between my fears, concerns, and uncertainty on one side and my sense of peace, calm, and trust in God on the other. 

Let me back up a little. When I was growing up, I didn't really deal with any relatives having cancer. I knew of various distant relatives who had it, or friends of friends, but nobody within my immediate circle was struck with cancer. Then, about fifteen years ago, my mother called me to tell me she needed a breast biopsy. This turned out to be a type of breast cancer called Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. My sweet, loving, wonderful mom had to have a unilateral mastectomy, and then take Tamoxifen, a chemo drug, for five years afterwards. This was scary, unsettling, and downright awful, but I never thought even once that my mom would die from it. The cancer was tiny, had not spread, and my mom kept such a great attitude throughout it that I did not fear. Then my father-in-law had prostate cancer. Again, this did not seem like such a big deal. He did radioactive seeding, and the cancer was defeated. Okay, we all thought, so there are cancers that are not such scary bogeymen, but are defeatable and manageable.

Then, in 2007, my eight-year-old son was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. 

Whoa.

This was not the same. My sweet, loving boy's life was at stake. I knew how tough this fight could be. We basically lived at the hospital for nearly three months. He had five week-long rounds of chemo with nasty side effects, and he became a thin, pale, energy-less facsimile of himself. There were times I cried and asked God why he hadn't just given me cancer, instead. My husband did the same. We cried together, we prayed together, and we tried to trust and stay calm. I could write an entire book about the experience, and probably some day I will, but to sum it up here, it was awful.  We felt so powerless, and could only do what the doctors said to do, and comfort our son as best we could. Thank God, all of the chemo worked and within about three months he was declared in remission from the cancer. He has remained cancer-free ever since then. But the experience took a toll on our family, especially on our son, who still, sometimes, deals with the stress, trauma, and anxiety of those dark days. 

Eventually our family emerged into the light of the post-cancer stage, and moved on. We laughed, we celebrated holidays, we traveled, we learned, and we wound up not thinking about it too much anymore. Then, at Christmastime in 2017, we heard the word cancer again, this time because our daughter, who was then 20, had to have her entire thyroid removed because of cysts and lumps, and one of them turned out to be papillary carcinoma of the thyroid. Her recovery from the surgery had been quite rough, and it was at her one-week follow-up appointment that the surgeon spoke those terrible words. "We had a bit of a surprise on the pathology report," he said kindly. "One of the lumps was cancerous." My stomach began to churn and heave, but I stayed calm on the outside. I looked at her; she looked at me. "Okay, I said, what do we need to do?"

Here we go again. The uncertainty, the knowing that cancer can cause people to die, the sense of being powerless and helpless against this foe that does not care who you are, what you've done, or how you want your life to go. Cancer just invades and takes over.

For our daughter, the treatment consisted of radioactive iodine, administered after two weeks of a strict little-to-no-iodine diet. She then had to stay away from all of us for several days except for brief interactions. I delivered meals to her room and checked on her frequently. She has now had two iodine scans since then, and has been free of cancer both times. She has another scan this Fall. We're still paying off her medical bills from all of this. But we figured our family had dodged a bullet yet again, and could move on to the post-cancer stage, getting back to normal life. My daughter doesn't take any day for granted, though, and I think none of us do.

Now back to my current reality. You can read about how I found my cancer and was diagnosed here. I'll fast forward through the story, which began last November, to January 23rd, when my OB/GYN called me. For a few days, since my ultrasound, I had been trying out the words in my head: I have cancer. Somehow, after the ultrasound, my mind and heart knew the truth already, and I began to prepare mentally for it, so that when I finally heard the words, it was not the horrible shock you might think it would be. 

That Thursday I was eating lunch with three of my closest friends, knowing that I would hear something that day or the next. We were laughing and talking, just generally having a good time, when my phone rang. My OB/GYN is also a friend, since I've been going to her for eight years, and for a few years I gave her educational advice and support about her teenagers, when they were in high school. She is also my eldest daughter's OB/GYN, and delivered both of my beautiful granddaughters. She knows me well enough to know that I didn't need any sugar-coating or build-up. I just needed the facts. "It's cancer, Alice," she said.  "It's also in one of your lymph nodes, so you'll have to have the whole gamut of treatment, surgery, chemo, and radiation. I hate this for you." I hate it for me, too, I thought. I knew that she was truly sympathetic, as her sister is fighting ovarian cancer and she is worried about possibly getting cancer, too. I agreed to keep her posted on my treatment, and we signed off. I walked back to the lunch table, sat down, and told my friends, "Well, that was my doctor. I have breast cancer."

I HAVE CANCER.

All three of them took my hands, then stopped and prayed with me immediately. I sat quietly weeping, letting their words wash over me as they talked to the God of the universe, asking Him to give me strength, peace, calm, endurance, perseverance, and ultimately total healing. And thus the battle began with prayer and with the support of friends and family. (More about that in my next post.)

But the main battle, the mental, emotional, and spiritual battle, is inside my own head every day. We all have this battle, but for me having cancer has intensified the struggle to stay upbeat and positive. Negative thoughts and emotions can crop up any time, and it's an effort of the will to combat them. I try to do it with Scripture, and with common sense or logical thoughts.  Scripture helps immensely, and thinking logically about things supports my mental well-being. For example:

What if I don't beat this cancer, and I die from it? 

    Scripture: 2 Corinthians 5:1  For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.  6-8 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

    Common sense: All human beings die at some point; we just don't know when we will die. I could die tomorrow in a car crash, or from some other disease. There is no reason to walk around being frightened of dying. 

All of this treatment is horrible to go through, so I'm just going to wallow in self-pity and depression. Why do I have to go through this?

    Scripture: Romans 5:1-5 Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.

    Common sense: My treatments are the best way that doctors have figured out to eradicate the cancer cells in my body, and I have various methods of dealing with the side effects. The unpleasant effects will be temporary, and are something I must endure in order to beat the cancer. I can do this, and come out the other side a stronger, tougher person.

You get the idea. Any question or thought I have can be answered thus. 

Not that I don't have bad times, but my inner monologue in general stays positive, rather than being negative about everything. Yes, I have doubts and fears. I want to grow old with my husband, and see all three of my children established in their own homes, and see my grandchildren grow up. I want to keep teaching for many years, helping many young people become better communicators of their thoughts and of what they have learned. I want to run with my friends, and go to the beach and swim, and hike trails, and play games, and play the piano and sing, and cook good food. I don't want to die from breast cancer in my 50s, or any time, for that matter.

But you know what? I can still do most of these things right now, and the few that I can't, I'll be able to do again in a few months. I can keep living life, even during treatment, and enjoy every minute of it. This is what we should all be doing, anyway: living life joyously and gratefully each day, since we never know what day will be our last. 

The battle continues...

Let the Breast Cancer Battle Begin

Since I last wrote and posted on January 23rd, I have had several different appointments with doctors, some tests, and a procedure. So here is the update:

On January 31st I met my breast surgeon, Dr. Susan Mahany. She told me that my cancer is what is called Triple Negative Breast Cancer, and it is an invasive ductal carcinoma. What does that mean? Well, the invasive ductal carcinoma part is pretty easy. It means that the cancer started in one of my milk ducts, and then has invaded the surrounding tissue. The Triple Negative thing is a little more complex. Basically, researchers have identified certain hormones that fuel breast cancer. Estrogen, progesterone, and human epidermal growth factor receptor 2 (known as HER2) are the three main ones on the list. They can test the cancer cells and see which of these is acting as fuel, if any. If the cancer is feeding on estrogen, it is ER+ cancer, but if not, it's ER- cancer. Same thing for progesterone (PR+ or PR-) and the HER2 (+ or -).  My cancer does not feed on any of the three, so it is ER-, PR- and HER2-, or triple negative.  The first course of treatment will be chemotherapy, but more on that in a minute.

First, I went on Wednesday, February 5th and had an MRI done of my breasts. Not pleasant, in any way. Two different women at Candler hospital, the receptionist in the imaging center and the lady who runs the little coffee shop, both gave me words of encouragement and healing from the Lord, and I now know two sisters in Christ whom I did not previously know. My MRI results showed that the tumors in my breast and lymph node nearly doubled in size in three weeks. Yikes! No wonder they are hurting pretty much constantly.

Then, on Friday, February 7th, I met with my oncologist, Dr. Jennifer Yanucci. She is wonderful. She explained the whole chemo protocol to me. (explained below)

On Monday, February 10th, I went in early in the morning for my pre-op screening, an EKG, and blood work. That all went smoothly. Then on Thursday, February 13th, I underwent surgery to have my port-a-cath placed. It is now healing and will enable me to start chemo this Thursday, February 20th. While I was in recovery I also had an echocardiogram to make sure that my heart is strong and healthy enough to withstand doxorubicin, also known as Adriamycin, a.k.a. The Red Devil. It will be one of two drugs that I get first. Just to keep us all on our toes, each drug has a generic name and then one or more brand names. Here is the protocol:

First, 4 cycles of dose-dense Adriamycin (doxorubicin) and Cytoxan (cyclophosphamide) and a 'cycle' means an infusion every two weeks, with monitoring of  my blood counts and health in between infusions. This will start this Thursday and, if all goes well, end April 2nd.

Then, 12 weeks/cycles of Taxol (paclitaxol) infusions once a week, and Carboplatin (I have only heard one name for this one!) every three weeks during the 12 weeks of Taxol. I don't know if they'll start this whole part of the protocol on April 9th or on April 16th, but if all goes well, I will be done with chemo either the last week of June or the first week of July.

Within the next few weeks, I'll be undergoing genetic testing to see if my cancer is genetically linked to the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes. If it is, I'll need to undergo a bilateral mastectomy. If it's not, then I'll have to make a decision about whether to have a lumpectomy or a one-side mastectomy or a bilateraly mastectomy. This will be incredibly difficult for me.

So, let the battle begin! I'm gearing up mentally for my first chemo treatment, and praying that, if the Lord wills, I will tolerate it well.

More soon from the frontlines of the war.

Christians on Social Media

Easter is one of the two times of the year when most Christians post overtly Christian things on Facebook, Twitter, and other social media; the other time is, of course, Christmastime. I'm not even sure how to put my thoughts into words about this topic, but I'm going to try.

I don't think there is anything wrong with posting pictures of the cross, verses, hymn lyrics, words of praise and thanks for Christ's death and resurrection now at Easter time, or all of the relevant things at Christmas: mangers, angels, baby Jesus, wise men, shepherds, and all the pertinent Scripture. I'm not bothered by anybody posting those things; it's nice to be edified by seeing other believers share their thoughts. What I wonder is: Why do Christians post all of those things for about two weeks, or less, out of the year, but then seem to ignore them the rest of the year? Sure, there are a few people who post Scripture verses on a regular basis, or who reference the Lord in their status updates, but the emphasis on Christ's incarnation, death, and resurrection only happens twice a year. The rest of the time it seems that most Christians on various social media don't refer to their beliefs much, if at all. The impression the rest of the world gets is that Christianity only matters at these two major holidays.

Shouldn't we be celebrating Christ's death and resurrection on a daily basis? Isn't that the gospel? That Jesus Christ died for our sins, was laid in a tomb, and on the third day ROSE FROM THE DEAD? This is what we are to be preaching to the world on a regular basis, not just once a year. I am resolving to post something about the resurrection on a weekly basis on Facebook this year. Maybe somebody will ask why I'm posting about it, since it won't be at Easter, and I'll have the opportunity to share the gospel with them, the gospel that is for all days, not just one weekend a year.

But How Do I Do It?

Philippians 4:6 tells us to "not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests by made known to God."  (ESV)


Okay.  I understand that.


But how do I DO that?  Practically speaking, how do I just NOT be anxious?  It's not possible for me to spend my entire day on my knees in prayer and supplication every time I feel a twinge of worry.  I have three kids to home school, laundry to do, house to clean, food to cook, and so on....So what do I do?  Do I just try to be in an attitude of prayer and supplication all day during all these activities?  How do I let go of worry and anxiety?  What if I've told God my worries and requests over and over, and still see nothing happening to lessen them?  HOW do we have faith when we've asked for it time and again, and yet feel like our faith is weak?  I know that God is Sovereign.  I know that He is good.  I know that He is loving.  I DO trust Him.  I have to just cling to those facets of God and trust that things will work out for His good and loving plan.  Just writing this post has helped me somewhat as I've been thinking about God's Word and what it has to say about these things:


"Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."  1 Thess. 5:18
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Matt. 6:34
"And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his life?" Luke 12:25
"And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on."Luke 12:22
"Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief."  Mark 9:24


So....being in an attitude of prayer, and meditating on Scripture both help.  Any other ideas?

Words of Wisdom

Just came across this blog post about the busyness of the Christmas season.  Sally at Eternal Echoes has elucidated my thoughts exactly:

No wonder we are weary, we have lost the ability to truly rest, and have forsaken the wonder of waiting, replacing anticipation with headlong rush of activity adding stress to a season that sends bank accounts and relationships spiraling into disaster. How tragic that parents are judged not by the love, care and concern that they have for their children but by the size of the parcel they are able to provide. I speak to mothers who sacrifice bedtime stories and cuddles for part-time jobs simply in order to buy that latest toy for a child whose head has been filled desire for a toy that has been advertised solidly from September onwards. I speak to families stressed out by not being able to buy the approval of relatives and friends. I hear it from my own children as living on student loans they struggle to resist the perils of the season!

Advent is not about chocolate filled calenders it is a season of repentance and fasting just as Lent is, it is also a season of preparation, one that calls us not to look to the babe in the manger but rather to the risen Christ WHO WILL COME AGAIN.

The rest of her post is equally thought-provokoing.  It's nice to see others are pondering these issues and writing about them.


Hat tip to Dave Black for the link.

Two Trees

During our family Bible study this morning we discussed something that I had never really put into words before. We were talking about how the Bible is not only God's Word (inspired, inerrant, infallible) but also a great work of literature with all types/genres of writing in it(narrative, poetry, philosophical exposition, hymns, law, etc.) as well as all literary devices and great over-arching metaphors throughout. It's the greatest work of literature of all time. One of the symbols we see throughout the Bible is the tree: in the Garden--the tree of the knowledge of good and evil; in Psalm 1--the godly man as a tree planted by the water while the ungodly man is the tree that withers; in Revelation, the tree of life; and finally, the cross as a tree. We also see fruit used as a symbol: in the Garden (although I believe it was a real, edible fruit, it's also symbolic,) and the fruit of the Spirit; the word fruit is used 75 times in the New Testament.

Now the thing I had never really put into words before: In the Garden, Adam and Eve ate fruit off a tree, thus losing the innocence wherein they were created, and falling from that state into a state of sin. On the cross, Christ the Firstfruits of man ("But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep" I Cor. 15:20) was placed up on a tree and sacrificed atoning for our sin and allowing us to one day--in heaven--return to that state of innocence.

I think I need to do a word study on tree and fruit in the Bible to examine this symbolism more. I mean, I've always known that these words are used frequently, and I've heard sermons about them, but the idea of the fruit coming down off the tree and then Christ being put up on the tree is one I had never truly meditated on before...

Our 18th Anniversary

Today is Eric's and my 18th anniversary. We met about 20 years ago, and I knew within a few weeks that he would be my husband. But that's a story for another time. What I want to write about today is the major events of our marriage. Just for fun.

July 5, 1991--married in Houghton, NY
May 1993--Eric graduates from Houghton College, I finish my Master's Degree from UB
February 17, 1994--Caroline Ruth born
May 1996--Eric completes Master's Degree from Alfred University
July 1996--we move to Springfield, GA
May 15, 1997--Mary Charlotte born
July 1998--we move to Rincon, GA
December 1, 1998--Robert James a.k.a.Bobby born
November 2000--Mary has cerebral aneurysm repaired successfully
July 2001--10th anniversary getaway at Jekyll Island
July 2002---we move to Wake Forest, NC
January 2005--trip to India
May 2006--Eric receives MDiv. from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary
October 2006--we move to India
March 2007--we return from India
March-May 2007--Bobby undergoes chemotherapy for Diffuse Large B-cell lymphoma
May 15, 2007--Mary turns 10, and Bobby finishes chemo
June 18, 2008--Eric called to pastor Chevis Oaks Baptist Church
February 20, 2009--Caroline gets learner's driving permit
May 15, 2009--Mary turns 12, Bobby celebrates two years in remission
July 5, 2009---18 years of marriage!

You can surmise the many things I've left off this list, and the details of each story. This list is a bare-bones outline of major events in our lives over the last 18 years. Along the way we have grown in our love for each other and our trust in the Lord. We have learned more (not everything yet!) about patience, suffering, trust, and God's providence than we knew at the beginning of our marriage. I thank God every day for my wonderful husband. I pray that we will continue to grow older together, ministering to each other and to those around us. Deo volente....

HOME

The children and I arrived home Friday evening, along with Eric's mom, after two long days of traveling. We are all still tired but we're thrilled to be home. I missed Eric so much while we were gone, and I definitely don't do the "single parent" thing very well. Saturday night a family from our new church had us over to eat dinner with them and some other friends, and that was great--I didn't have to cook, and the food was outstanding! (Thanks, Heather and Kenny!) Then today we went to church and were invited to another family's house for Sunday dinner. (Thanks Mrs. Leola and Mr. Donald!) It was another wonderful meal. What's even sweeter is the fellowship that we have with our new church family. It makes me thank the Lord again for bringing us to Chevis Oaks. This morning we all shared in the Lord's Supper together, and at the end we sang:

Blessed be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like that to that above.

Before our Father's throne
We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one
Our comforts and our cares.

We share each other's woes,
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.

When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.

What a privilege it is to share in communion with other believers.

Do we cry like Jesus?

Wednesday night our pastor, Devin, addressed an issue that to be honest, I had never given much thought. As part of a series on "walking as Jesus walked," he taught us about the times in Scripture where Jesus cried. Now, of course I knew about these passages, and have heard many sermons about them, have read them, and have even thought about them. But I don't think I've ever really considered their application to my life. I always just thought that they showed a human, emotional side to Jesus; that they portray His humanity and deep sensitivity. Devin discussed them from this angle, too, but at the end he applied them to us as Christians. That's the part that really has me thinking over the last two days.

In our society we are taught that real men don't cry, at least not in public, but that isn't the picture we see of Jesus in the Bible. Let us see:

John 11:35 Jesus wept.
This happened in Bethany outside Lazarus' tomb, when Jesus saw the grief of Lazarus' family and friends.

Luke 19:41 Now as He drew near, He saw the city and wept over it...
Jesus knew the destruction that would take place not too long after this, when the Romans would come in and literally tear the city down. He knew the fate of the people, and even though they had rejected Him, He wept for them.

Hebrews 5:7-8 ...who, in the days of His flesh, when He had offered up prayers and supplications, with vehement cries and tears to Him who was able to save Him from death, and was heard because of His godly fear, though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered.
This is a description of Jesus when He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night before He was Crucified. We know that He was in such agony that He sweated drops of blood in addition to shedding many tears. He was in a deep emotional state as He looked ahead to the suffering He would endure.

We therefore see Jesus shedding tears in three different situations which I would sum up:
1. Compassion for others' grief and grief of His own over death and its hold on man
2. Sorrow for the lost, who face destruction both physical and spiritual
3. Deep personal anguish and suffering

Applying these to our lives, then, is simple yet intensely profound. Do we cry with and for others when they are hurting? REALLY cry over their sorrow? Not just tell them we love them and will pray for them but sit down with them and cry? Do we shed tears for the lost? Are we moved to such deep feeling for sinners that we weep for them and for the destruction they surely face? Do we cry out to God with "vehement cries and tears" when we are suffering greatly?

Perhaps I'm wrong about this, but I think many of us have become hardened and jaded in this area of our lives. We think that crying is a sign of weakness, or we don't want to be seen as emotional basket cases. I'm not advocating that we spend all our time crying and wailing, or that every Sunday be a huge emotional experience where we go to the altar and sob. After all, we are only told of a few times that Jesus wept. But I admit that I have tried NOT to cry over the last year, maybe because I fear that if I begin crying, the tears will go on for too long a time. Oh, there have been a few times I've cried--one night in choir the words of a song we were singing brought me to tears...("Sometimes we wait, simply to find, sometimes the answers come with time...there is a place where we rest in His grace, when sometimes we wait on the Lord.") I've been moist-eyed a few times in church, here and there. Usually I just try to get it under control as quickly as possible. But now I'm thinking--would it be cathartic to cry before the Lord with "vehement cries and tears"? How long has it been since I truly wept for the lost? How long since I had "a good cry"?