A BIG Change

I once had a lady tell me that she was unhappy with how things were in her life.  I asked, "What's wrong?"  She said, "Oh, it's just the 'same ol', same ol'."  I think I understood what she was saying, and that she wanted more excitement and variety in her life.  For a few years she chased a more exciting life, and, sadly, she realized too late how great her life had been.  I have learned that when life goes along without a lot of drama, it is not such a bad thing!
We have had a lot of drama and challenges in the last few years.  Our daughter Lisa had very serious cancer that was discovered in 2014.  That was awful!  In 2015 I went to Russia and Kazakhstan with one of my Russian men from church.  It was wonderful!   Christina and I went on a flexuous trip to Florida in 2016, riding our bikes several times along the way.  It was wonderful!  At the very end of that same year I found out I had cancer myself.  Not so wonderful.  If you notice, life doesn't exactly follow a pattern.  In between the times I mentioned, life just sort of went along, giving us a chance to catch our breath.  Some of the drama that comes along, we get to choose; other stuff is put on us.
And speaking of 2014, it was a hard year!  In a space of twelve months, we had 18 funerals, and I officiated in most of them.  Our family lost a niece and a brother-in-law.  I lost 5 people from church.  Too much drama!  Too much pain.
I think that most of us would opt for just the fun stuff and forget the sickness stuff, the painful stuff, and the loss stuff, if we could.  Another cruise, another bike ride, another party, or another camping trip with friends would suit just fine, thank you!  A trip to the city to see a show!  That's the kind of drama we like.
But that is not life.  Life has its swings, its highs and lows.  Ecstasy and disappointment.  Bittersweet, a mixed bag, the good points and the bad.  You catch happiness here and there on the way by.
It's like growing old.  There are blessings and perks with age, but there sure are challenges!  But what is the alternative to growing old?  As humans, we fight tooth and nail to hang onto life, and then we complain about how our life is.  By the way, I had another glowing report from my latest blood test; <0.02 PSA!!
Now, I find my life about to take another dramatic turn.  I am going to retire at the end of April.  After ministering in churches, prayer groups, Sunday Schools, reservations, hospitals, nursing homes, and prisons, I am going to be retiring.  It is 45 years since I began my pastoral ministry.  I was 23.  God was very gracious to me then, and He still is!  I have been the pastor of four churches and assistant in two more.  Even when I was not in an official role of ministry, it seemed like God always found a place for me to be of service.

I don't know what life will look like a year from now, but I am sure that I will be working somewhere for the Lord, because whatever I do, I do for the glory of God.  I look forward to the new adventures, but I am grateful for the people God has allowed me to touch through the years.  I just hope this transition is without too much drama.  For them, and us!  A little "same ol', same ol'," please!
God bless you all.
Gil
                               

A Trip to Oregon

  I just returned from a trip to see my sister, Ruby in Oakridge, Oregon. It was something I planned on doing, ever since her grandson died. I was going to go for the funeral, but she asked if I could come later, after the crowds and activities had dissipated. It worked out very well. I was able to jockey around the days I work at Pierce and Christina covered the Sunday service there, which made it possible to go without using any vacation time. I was able to take a Sunday vacation day off from church. So, for a very attractively priced flight, I was able to go for a whole week.
  One of the things we often do when our family members get together is sing. I had a good time singing two new songs with both Ruby and Wilma, although the time with Wilma was very short. One song was the one I wrote for Ruby and the other was from Jeremiah 33:3 (and verses preceding). Anyway, I got out the song I had written for Ruby and Fred that I mentioned in my last post and they both dutifully sang along. They are such good sports! Thankfully, I had the rough draft of this last part I knew the song I had written for Ruby needed. As often happens with me, During half my time in Oregon I would have edits pop into my mind just as I was waking in the mornings. Usually it was before I wanted to get up! But, thankfully,  the song was ready for singing in church Sunday morning. If you'd like to hear it I believe you can find it on our church's Facebook page, or the page of the Oakridge, OR A/G Church. This is the last part.

^Refrain: But I need a miracle! I need the Lord to undertake!

A Divine Intervention, and my soul to extricate

From the raging storms and rolling waves

And the fear that would o’erwhelm me.

Hear my cry, hear my plea, I’m calling out to Thee.

I need a miracle from You; I need a miracle!

I search for answers when I’m in a trial

But in my heart I know You’re all I need

Instead of looking for a sign to solve life’s mysteries

By Your grace, it’s only You I see!

^Refrain: You are my Miracle!  You are the One who rescues me

From the depths of desolation You set my spirit free

And though the wind still blows and waves still roll

I know that You will save me

All my fears, all my griefs, I give them up to Thee

You are my Miracle, O Lord; You are my Miracle!

  Whatever we face in life, I am sure that the Lord will get us through. I am blessed and amazed at how well all of my sister's family is doing. Contributing to their healing is talking often and freely about Ryan. They talk joyfully about the richness he contributed to their lives, rather than talking about how awful his loss is. There is no debate that he has left a big hole, but he also left a beautiful mark in this world, and that is their focus.
  A few years ago Amy wrote a beautiful piece that captures a lot of the emotion they are experiencing. I'd like to share it with you.

                         SWEET MONTGOMERY                      by Amy Bourquin DiSalvatore

Death.  It’s a weird thing.  Predictable yet unexpected.  Unexpected even when expected.  Relief for some, feared by most.  There are no rules.  No rules for who or when or why.  It is appointed to every man once to die.  Only no one knows his appointed time.  Death is part of life.  And then life goes on.  The hole, the pain, the emptiness remains, but life goes on.  Like I said, it’s a weird thing.

                My cousin, Montgomery, had her appointment.  She was 22.  It was unexpected.  She was simply getting ready to take a shower and was gone before she hit the floor.  Just like that.  An autopsy showed she had a defect in her heart since birth which went undetected.  Most people who are born with the defect don’t live past their first birthday.  Montgomery celebrated 22.  Perspective is amazing.  One minute you can feel utterly robbed, thinking how could she die so young.  The next minute feeling like you struck gold to have had the 22 years, beating the odds.

  Well, I don't want to run the risk of overwhelming anyone by having too many blogs from me. But I knew I needed to follow up the last post and finish the song.

Love to all,

Gil

THE MIRACLE I NEED

I continue to thank the Lord for each day, each check-up, each appointment that shows no indication of cancer. I think of the time when I was dealing with the whole thing, including just being able to use the word "cancer" in context to me, was almost surreal. I mean, people get cancer all the time. I had to have some funky sun-damaged cells on my ears and forehead dealt with.
But this was different. This was something I had to deal with. I was forced to look at my own mortality. I had to face the possibility of dying. I had to make a choice that was really trying to choose the lesser of two evils; surgery or hormonal treatment. But I was not given the choice to wait and see, or just do nothing.
At the time, it was as though it was all happening to someone else, but not me! At first, it was what I read and what other people told me about prostate cancer. Right after the Gleason 9 diagnosis, but before treatment, I was thinking that it would be a great time to write a song. It was sure to be a great one! I tried. I worked at it. I could only get two lines:
              So, this is how it feels to be somewhere in-between
              A trial that could take me out and the miracle I need.
I would drag out pencil and paper and write those same 23 words; nothing. I had them in the file of my flash drive that is called, "Songs in progress." As time went on I sort of gave up, and I had not really looked at those 23 words or anything in the file folder, for that matter, for the last several months.
And then one day recently I got a call that informed me my sister and her husband had experienced a catastrophic tragedy in their family. As I got off the phone with her, my heart was heavy with their grief and sorrow. I felt some of her pain. It put me in mind of the people who were affected by my episode with cancer. While what I dealt with was nothing compared to what her family was/is going through, I knew there were people who were really hit with my trauma.
I went back to that "Songs in progress" folder and looked at those words again. Then the rest began to come; to tell the truth, Ruby's Song is still a song in progress. Here is what I have so far. I'll explain what I still want to see the song do.

I NEED A MIRACLE                              ©2019g.bourquin

So this is how it feels to be somewhere in between

A trial that could take me out and the miracle I need.

I trust God’s steadfast faithfulness, and I know He can provide—

A path that leads me through this trial to the other side.

^Refrain:But I need a miracle! I need the Lord to undertake!

 A Divine Intervention, and my soul to extricate

 From the raging storms and angry waves

 And the fear that would o’erwhelm me.

 Hear my cry, hear my plea, I’m calling out to Thee.

 I need a miracle from You, I need a miracle.

No way could I imagine just how hard the road could be!

The pain is so incredible and it’s ‘way too hard for me!

Your Word says that the darkest hour is just before the dawn,

And You’ll fill me with hope and joy when the dark is gone.

Several years ago, the songwriter Robert Gay wrote a song, He's More Than Enough. I was thinking that sometimes we want a miracle, even though we might not know what one would look like. We just don't know what we want and need. But all the while we are looking, hoping, praying that something will give us help, hope, and strength, it is God who is our greatest miracle. That He would come to us in our deep pain and gross darkness is nothing short of a miracle. I think the song I wrote needs some sort of response to that truth.

Another miracle in our lives is the love other people have for us. There are people who really want to share our burdens and loads. The Bible says, "Bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ."Galatians 6:2

Now, when I look at people's faces as they intently ask how I'm doing or think back to all the kindness we received during that time, I see so many miracles. Their caring and sharing is still amazing. There are still people who pray for me on a daily basis. I still have my sense of humor. I still like to eat blueberries; I hear they're good for a man's prostrate!

Two years

17,520 hours ago I was on my back on a gurney, listening to the bustle going on around me. I was being prepped for surgery that would remove my prostate. In 15,300 seconds I will be standing by an open grave doing the funeral service for a dear man who passed into Heaven three days ago. It is sobering, but also a source of joy to reflect that, but for the grace of God, I could be gone by now, too.
I know that life is fragile from any angle we look at it. The only sure thing is God Himself. In Colossians God says, “If, then,you are risen with Christ seek those things that are above where Christ sits at the right hand of God. Set your affections on things above, not on things of earth, for you are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.” Facing our mortality from time to time is a good thing. It helps us loosen our grip on our ‘stuff’ just a little.
I am still reeling in the gooseggs for the PSA tests! I’m “...walking in His power as through this life I go!” Tomorrow we are pointing our car south after church and going to Florida for a little while. It’s always good to “thaw out!” It is nearly time to tap the trees for maple sap (sugaring: another one of my vices😉) and I’m sure the peepers are about ready to wake up. Time goes along. We need to stay in the place where God wants us to touch the people He wants us to share His light and life with.
Love to you all,
Gil

THE LONG RIDE
I don’t claim to be a great blogger. I am just not committed enough to it to learn the intricacies of posting pictures with ease, or even selecting the pictures people might like seeing. And, of course, I wonder if anyone even reads it anyway. This post is not to amaze or impress people but give glory to God. It isn’t that I don’t have anything to say, especially on my journey with Prostate Cancer. I have things to say all the time, but I don’t apply myself to record them in writing. But I am very grateful that I have come so far so successfully. Sometimes I even surprise myself!

I must tell you about my most recent visit with the urologist/surgeon who removed the offending member, back on February 23, 2017. But first let me start with the Friday before that Monday appointment. Sometimes the phlebotomydepartment at the clinic isn’t as fast as the one in Boston to get the results to the doctor by the time I see him. So the last time I was there he suggested we go a day or two ahead of the appointment to get the blood drawn to insure he has the results in hand. This clinic where he goes once a month is at Foxboro, right next to the stadium. That Friday there was a big concert going on at night, and the clinic would close at 1:00. After a s

tring of amazing things I was standing at the desk at 12:58! The nurse teased me and said they were closed. Anyway, we just made it, and I got the blood taken.

Dr. Trinh is great! I have gone to see him often, since I have to do periodic blood tests every three months to make sure the cancer doesn’t come back. He is still amazed that someone who had such an aggressive form hasn’t had a reoccurrence. He has assured me that if it does show up there are treatments (Hormone therapy, Radiation) that can treat it. Of course, they come with side effects.

This past week’s blood test was another { PSA <0.02 } great test. As we chatted about the results he told me that since I was 1 ½ years out from surgery and I had only had good tests, even with how bad the cancer was there was only a 5% chance it would ever come back. He told me I will not die from prostate cancer! I wasn’t worried, but it was still good to hear!!

In fact, that called for a celebration! We did it in style, too. We drove across the Bourne Bridge at Buzzard’s Bay and rode 20 miles on the north segment of the Shining Sea bike path. We ate clam chowder and stuffed quahogs. 

Friday I rode (by myself) from Willimantic to East Hampton. It was 21 miles just to get there and I thought, “I still have to go back!” Since Christina was in Florida with her brother, I couldn’t call her to come pick me up somewhere. I was chasing around in my brain who else I could sweet-talk into bailing me out; Amy? Lisa? Bill? when right there across the street at the end of the trail was a bike shop, Airline Cycles. 

I have this thing of collecting socks from places that have their shop name on them. I already have quite a few, but you can never have too many. <:-)

So, I parked my bike and went in to ask if they had any. They did and I bought a pair. Since I was there I told the three people in there that I was a cancer survivor, and I wasn’t going to die of prostate cancer. They thought that was wonderful (or at least said so) and offered me a bottle of water. I declined, but before I got back to the car two hours later I was wishing I had taken it; I had emptied my biking bottle.

As I started that ride back toward the car I was filled with an awareness of how great and kind the Lord was to me. There I was, riding along on the same bike with the same seat that I used in my pre-cancer riding time. In fact most of my life is pretty much as it was before. Those thoughts invigorated and energized me for the ride back. It was my longest ride since 2016, the second-longest ride ever. The other one was 53 miles, but on paved surfaces as opposed to stone dust on yesterday’s ride.

Now it is the Saturday of Labor Day weekend. Tomorrow our family is going to be celebrating Lobsterfest, a family tradition that we have been doing for more than a decade. I will be there, by the grace of God! I will be able to enjoy the food and many of the beautiful people that are part of my life. I even share DNA with a lot of them!

I pray your weekend is good. Thanks for reading.

THE RED KNIFE

 Hello. It has been a long time since I have posted but I felt that I finally have something to say!

               The picnic area.

               

I never cease to be amazed at how things can seem bad, but then we see it from another angle, often hindsight, and it makes complete sense.  It is as though things had to go the way they went, even though we were distraught about it at the time.  I will share a couple of examples.

Yesterday Christina and I went for a bike ride, something we like to do when we can.  This particular day we had the whole day.  We rode from East Granby through the notch in the top of Connecticut and into Massachusetts. We made it all the way to the northern end in Westfield, MA, at the Stop and Shop. I went in and got a grinder, bag of chips, and Coke. We headed back down the trail looking for a shady spot to eat our lunch of fruit and my newly acquired lunch.

We settled on a spot where we could sit on a giant block of granite, something left over from the days before the railroad, when an old canal ran from New Haven to Westfield. We were within sight of the factory where Columbia bicycles used to be made years ago. We thoroughly enjoyed our lunch and ride back to the car.

We drove the 20 miles to Costco, as we often do, to pick up some things. It has nothing to do with the story, but on our way to Costco we saw a bear!! Anyway, after we had shopped and we were putting our purchases in the car I took a peach out of the box for us to share in the parking lot. I reached into my left pocket for my knife so I could cut it…it wasn’t there! Almost immediately I knew it must have fallen off the block as we were having lunch. It was a nice Case knife and had a red handle.

The knife

It took us 20 minutes to drive back to a parking area near our picnic spot. As we drove I figured that the chances for finding it weren’t that great. And like they say, finder’s keepers!! But I unloaded my bike and rode the 1.2 miles down the path to the spot. And there it was!

What if I hadn’t gotten the peach out of the box in the parking lot? What if Christina hadn’t encouraged me to go look, keeping a cheerful attitude the whole time? What if I had given up? BUT I did get the peach that needed to be cut, Christina did gently push me along as we went, and I didn’t give up.

Another infinitely more serious event took place earlier in July. Maybe once a year we have the Saturday night group from church over for a cookout. On July 14 we gathered about 5 pm for hot dogs and hamburgers. As we finished eating there was a commotion on the road in front of our house. As we investigated, we discovered that a young man had been unable to stop his motorcycle at the intersection from going into the path of a pickup and was struck.

Several of our people were nearby praying. One of our men and myself assisted a lady who was administering CPR. We were praying with him and for him as he died. I prayed with the man’s grandfather who had walked to the scene, and I prayed for the young lady who was driving the pickup that hit him. It left our whole group shaken as well.

But thinking back on that evening, what were the chances we would be at our house on a Saturday night? Who would have prayed for him if we hadn't been there? We were supposed to be there so we could be praying for that man. Only God knows what happened in those final moments of his life. Did he subconsciously cry out for mercy, like the thief on the cross? More personally, I wondered if I was spared from cancer so I could be there. I’m just glad we were there. I’m glad it went the way it did.  I’m thankful for the wonderful people of God who were over for the evening.

Most of all, I am so glad that God has a great plan. I’m glad I know Him, and I pray that I will be in His will for all my life. Whenever you are in a hard place, call out to Him. He will show you what the next step is.

A CONNECTION

When we go through something hard we might get the feeling that we’re the only ones who have ever gone through it. In a sense, that is true. We are all individuals with our own emotions, personalities, and previous life experiences that all play into our lives who we are and how we react in various situations. It is annoying to have a well-meaning person launch into a narrative about how they knew someone in a similar situation to what we are in and how it turned out for them.

Recently I knew of a lady who was with a friend who was waiting for results of medical tests and, quite possibly, bad news. The friend of the sick lady said, “I’m not worried! I’m ready to die.” She then told the poor lady all of her plans; about the funeral arrangements, her burial plot, and headstone. Maybe it was well-meaning but her timing really stunk!

It is an odd thing, but now that I have survived a year beyond a cancer diagnosis I have a lot more empathy for people who have cancer. I understand how it is to try to navigate the mental and emotional landscape of the disease and focus on what the next step is. Cancer is sneaky and it is not Step One, Step Two, and Step Three; done!! It involves trying to understand the facts and pursue the best treatment options. Then there are the blood checks and scans, seeing if the illness is leaving, staying, or getting worse. It is looking over your shoulder while, at the same time, trying to look ahead and be optimistic.

I feel a connection to people who have, or who have had cancer. I have a deep respect for them and their courage. Without saying a word, I understand and feel comradery with them. I don’t care what brand of cancer they have. I feel connected.

                Soon we are going to be making the drive to Florida to spend some time with Christina’s brothers, sister-in-law, and another couple. We look forward to riding our bikes again. I am going to work out and exercise to prepare my muscles to the idea of actually doing something! Talking about bikes reminds me of something that happened a few years ago. I call my story…

First Ride

                We love adventures!  One of the best ways to be assured a good time is with our bikes.  So, since the forecast was 57º for the day after Easter, I loaded the bikes into the van before I went off to play golf with my guy from church with the hope we could get in a ride later (if I got back from playing golf in time).  I got home about 2, and just before we jumped in the car for the 45 minute ride to the bike path, I said that we ought to bring raincoats because showers were in the forecast.  Christina threw them in her gym bag, we got in, and off we went.

                Arriving at the East Bay Bike Path, the temperature was about 60º, the sky was blue, and we were so happy to be breaking out of a long New England winter for our first springtime ride.  Raincoats?  Nah!  We wouldn’t need them.  We headed down the path with a stiff breeze in our faces, looking forward to a cup of Starbucks coffee and the ride back with the wind at our backs.

                After a very satisfying cup, we pointed the bikes northward from Barrington toward the car.  But alas!  The sky was very dark in that direction and the wind had shifted so it was blowing right in our faces…again!  After a few minutes the rain started.  I told Christina to keep riding and I would go on ahead to get the car.  She was to wait for me at an agreed-on place. 

                I rode as fast as I could against the wind and the cold, biting raindrops.  I reached the car, trembling from exertion but happy to be where I could get warmed up.  The three mile drive to her was just enough time to get the car comfortably warmed.  As I loaded her bicycle she said she would still like to go get something to eat to celebrate finishing the Easter activities, as we had talked about before.

                We drove to Haines Park to change and look for what we could put on.  She had some sweatpants in the bottom of her bag (under the dry raincoats) and a shirt.  She also had a dry Red Sox tee shirt.  I donned the Sox shirt and the pants from a suit we were intending to drop off for cleaning.  As I took off my wet clothes I spied my Blue Tooth on the parking lot where it had fallen off my ear.  I picked it up and turned it off.

                Arriving at Federal Hill, we prepared to get out of the car to go find a restaurant in which to eat.  I decided to take my Blue Tooth along, but couldn’t find it.  After we ate and had a leisurely time relishing that first ride, we returned to the car.  We looked a bit more for the Blue Tooth before we headed home.  Arriving at home we looked for it in more earnest, and then decided to look again in the daylight.

                All searching came up empty.  Christina suggested that we ought to go back to the Haines Park parking lot and look, so after an evening Deaconate meeting we hit the road at 9:00 pm.  Arriving an hour later, we scoured the parking lot for about 20 minutes where we had changed the day before.  Nothing.  Cold and bummed, we headed home.

                As we got out of the car, we grabbed things that needed to go in the house; raincoats, a gym bag, a little garbage, etc.  Christina picked up a pair of biking gloves, and there inside was the AWOL Blue Tooth! 

                Thankfully we love each other and we put up with each other.  Also we are thankful that we consider something like going to look for a Blue Tooth late at night an adventure, too.  Did an angel slip it into the glove?  Maybe.  Did I just forget where I put it?  Maybe.  But we choose to give God the glory that we recovered it, and had fun during the hunt.

God bless you all.  Spring IS coming!

Gil