Therapy

When I had my meniscus repaired last summer I had to go to physical therapy after the surgery. One day we were with friends and we were making some plans and I said that I would not be available at that time because I had to go to therapy. Cheryl was surprised at my remark—why I don’t really know because she knows me so well. She quickly corrected me and said that I had to go to physical therapy. I guess she did not want our friends to think that I was going for mental therapy. I kind of like to leave people in suspense every now and then.

We all have different activities that we consider our therapy—I am talking about the type that helps us cope with stress and emotional fatigue. I hear of a lot of my men friends talking about how golf or tennis is their therapy—I am sure that works for many women also. Fishing, biking, jogging, canoeing, kayaking, and hunting are stress-relieving activities for many men and women.

 In different seasons of my life I have enjoyed some of these activities and considered them fun and relaxing. However, in my present season hobby farming is my therapy. I like playing in the dirt and taking care of farm animals. Fact is I have enjoyed doing these things all of my life, but in some places we have lived in the world I have not been able to pursue my avocation.

Last week my dad sent me some pea seed. Yes, we have pea seed in northwest Georgia, but I only plant a special pea seed—Mississippi pinkeye purple hull peas. That is the same pea that I cut my first teeth on while growing up in and around Greenwood, Mississippi. Cheryl and I planted our garden before we went to Jacksonville, and a friend has been tending to the garden during our absence. The deer ate my peas while we were gone. I am thinking about having some deer jerky this winter. It has been very dry since we have returned from Florida; finally, we had some rain last night. I had a great therapy session late this afternoon planting my peas.

I thank God regularly for giving us a small plot of land so I don’t have to leave home to get my therapy. This time of year when I leave work I don’t mind telling my colleagues that I am going for therapy. They know me and understand that I am headed to the garden. I praise the Lord for letting me be a steward of His resources.

Things

Cheryl and I were in Louisville on Friday and Saturday. We have not buried Rolfe because his estranged adopted daughter has not been located yet. According to Kentucky law the next of kin must be notified before the body can be buried. His daughter left home when she was a teenager, and Rolfe has not had a relationship with her for many years. Rolfe’s wife passed away in 1992 after a long battle with MS. So, we couldn’t do much to begin settling his estate, but we packed his clothes, books and sermons to give away.

He had already given away many of his “things,” but there was still much to do. For the past 10 years he has been giving his books to young pastors who he has been mentoring. He was very specific in telling me who he wanted to get all his sermon notes. But, Rolfe had a basement—and it had a lot of things that we will eventually have to get rid of.

Going through Rolfe’s possessions was strange. He was a very private person. He told me he wanted a closed casket because he did not want people “gawking” at his body! I almost feel that I am betraying Rolfe by going through all his affairs, but such is the business of death.
I confess that I could be a packrat. I work hard not to keep things just to keep them, but I know that I have kept things “in case we need them” over the years. When we returned to the states from West Africa in 1987, all our earthly possessions were in such bad shape that we only brought a small crate back to the states with a few personal things. We arrived at my parents’ house first, and my mom washed a few loads of clothes for us and hung them out on the clothesline to dry. When she brought them in from drying she dumped them on the bed and called Cheryl and me into the room. She said, “We need to throw all your underwear away because they are all dingy.” We had not noticed that since we did not have any white clothes to compare them to. So, we wound up throwing away most of the things that we brought back to the states.

Most of us do not get an opportunity to clean out all the things in our lives, and we continue to accumulate all those treasures that we hope to use one day. I have become one of those people in the years since we returned to the states. Having things is not bad, but if those things get in the way of serving the Lord, then they are all evil. If those things keep us from loving one another then they are corrupt. If those things become the object of our adoration then that is blasphemy. Colossians 3:2 is clear to me: “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”

I have never seen a U-Haul trailer behind a hearse.  

Decisions

I have been doing a self-debate in my mind. OK, so what is that Cox? You know, where you can’t decide whether to do something, and you go back and forth in your thoughts until you do something. Yes, I wrote down properly what I meant—do something. Whenever we are trying to make a decision, sometimes we think we just won’t do anything with that decision. But the truth is that we make a decision anyhow—we decide not to decide. In coming to the conclusion that we will not make a decision, we have made a decision. Not to decide is to decide.

I usually make quick decisions. That can be an asset and it can also be a liability. Sometimes I might make a decision when I don’t have enough details to make the best decision. In other cases a quick decision is needed to mitigate a situation. Working with committees, work groups and task force groups, it is difficult to move forward sometimes when the leader wants everybody to be happy before making any decisions. If everybody has to be happy before a decision is made, then why have a committee to work through the decision?

I fault by thinking that I can make a quick decision and if it is not a good one, then I will have an opportunity to make another decision right away. The problem I have with those types of quick decisions is that sometimes it hurts relationships when I make a decision and don’t weigh enough of the possible consequences. So, you see I am still an “in-production” model when it comes to making decisions. The good Lord willing I will continue to make quick decisions when necessary, but use caution to gather more information before making a decision on those that could hurt relationships.

About that self-debate…it’s about whether to continue to write on the blog. I don’t really know how many people are reading it, but is it really important how many people are reading the blog (I have enough self-confidence without keeping score on the numbers) or that that someone is getting something of value by reading my thoughts.

Last treatment--home

On Monday morning I had my last treatment for prostate cancer--#28. It was uneventful, but saying goodbye to new friends was hard. Cheryl and I have become good friends with some of the other couples going through the treatment, and needless to say, the therapists and I really become well acquainted. We had loaded the car on Sunday afternoon, so after our goodbyes, we drove home on Monday—about 7 ½ hours of driving.

It was so good to get home. When you are away for six weeks, there are a lot of physical changes in the landscape, so we soaked up the beautiful views from our home and began to unpack the car and get settled into our home. There is nothing like being at home. Often people ask me where is my favorite place in the world to go, and I disappoint them by saying, “Home!”

Within an hour of arriving home, we received a phone call. Rolfe Dorsey went home—to his eternal home with the Lord. The timing of his death is so interesting, but not surprising to me. One of Rolfe’s huge concerns with his impending death was that his dying would upset my cancer treatments. He made me promise him that when he died that I would not miss one of my treatments to accommodate his funeral services. He told me to put him on ice and wait until it was convenient to bury him. He got his wishes. He has been holding on for the past three days, and once we were home he went home to meet Jesus.

When Allison was about six years old, we were renting a house in Mississippi. Cheryl was trying to explain that the house did not belong to us and that we were renting it, and finally Allison looked like she understood and said, “You mean it is their house, but our home.” She got it, and we have it—our house that we call home is only temporary. Our eternal home is with God.

Privileges

Rolfe Dorsey continues his battle with esophageal cancer in a nursing care facility in Louisville. Over the years he has developed a very close relationship with his internist. Cheryl and I had dinner with his physician while we were in Louisville last weekend. He is a gentle giant of a man who loves the Lord and has much compassion. I have several physician friends and I could equally describe them as very compassionate—maybe it has something to do with their walk with the Lord.

Physicians don’t give their home or cell phone numbers to patients, and I perfectly understand why. All of us have had the experience of calling our physician’s office and not being able to talk to a live person—“leave your phone number and we will get back with you before the end of the business day if you call before 4:00 pm.” Rolfe’s internist gave us his cell phone number.

An accountant in the internist’s office is a neighbor of Rolfe’s, and she and her husband love Rolfe dearly. They have been taking him prepared food for years, mowing his grass, and watching out for him. Now she goes to check on Rolfe every day after she gets off work. She calls me and gives me a first-hand report of his condition. Another friend of Rolfe’s goes by every morning to check on him. I can call his duty nurse any time to check on him. His internist calls me anytime he changes his medications. So, I haven’t needed to use that cell phone number. It is reassuring to know that I have that number, but I don’t want to abuse the privilege that he has entrusted to me.

A privilege is a license. A license is an authorization. An authorization is permission. The physician has given me permission to call him at any time. Today I am thinking about all the privileges that I have in life, but the greatest one I have is the one that I take for granted more than any other: “Because of Christ and our faith in him, we can now come boldly and confidently into God’s presence.” Ephesians 3:12 New Living Translation

Results

Almost finished! Yesterday I had my exit visit with my nurse and radiation oncologist. My next to last treatment was this morning, and then I went for some final blood work after my treatment. The results of the blood work will be the first measurement that we have received indicating the effectiveness of the proton treatment. The results will indicate how much my PSA has dropped. If you have been reading these blogs you will recall that my PSA was only 2.8 which is well within the normal range of 0-4.  A low PSA does not necessarily indicate an absence of cancer.  It is much more important to monitor how much it elevates from one year to the next.  Am I anxious about the results? Not really, but like most people I am interested in results. We focus a lot of our lives on results: business, school, church, sports, stocks, politics, etc.

Have you ever had any testing to determine if you are results-oriented or relations-oriented? Sure, you can be both, but researchers tell us that everyone—that covers a lot of people—leans towards one or the other. In teaching the SERVE principles that drive our Chick-fil-A business model, the hardest principle for most of us to convey overseas is the “V”—Value results and relationships. Business people in any culture understand the principle of getting results out of their enterprise. One does not have to spend much time helping them understand this principle. A lot of business people are like me—results-oriented.

I have a colleague at the foundation whose calling is to be relational and help couples have healthy marriages. He often reminds me that I am too results-oriented. I need reminders to work on being more relational. Our international team recently read a book entitled “Leadership and Self-Deception,” and it made me feel very uncomfortable because I recognized that I am often operating from inside the box (you will have to read the book to understand completely). You don’t have to read the book for this big lesson for me: Don’t worry about whether others are helping me. Do worry about whether I am helping others.

“If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important.” Gal.6:3 New Living Translation

Joy

For many years joy has been one of my favorite words. We gave the name “Joy” to our youngest child. When I was younger I only associated the word joy with my emotions, not with any spiritual meaning. The older I get, the more important the word has become to me.

When one of my colleagues working in one of our foundations was undergoing treatment for breast cancer I challenged her to find joy during her devastating treatments no matter how difficult the circumstance. Every time I have received a report on her treatment or her condition she always ends the text or email with something about joy. Since we have been in Florida for treatment she has sent me encouraging communication—always mentioning joy. She, along with countless others, has been such an encouragement to me during these treatments.

While I was studying the tribal language in Burkina Faso I discovered that there was no word for joy. I was so hurt because I thought to myself, how do they express their deep feelings of God’s abundant love for them which makes our hearts overflow with joy. Later I understood that they know very well how to show the deep feelings of their hearts full of Christ’s love and grace. They use two words: “suri noogo” which means happy heart. I learned from these very simple people that when you have a happy heart, other people know it because the face is a mirror of the heart. They said to me very simply: “You know a person has a happy heart if their face looks happy.”

Wow! What a lesson. This was one of those moments when I stopped and thought to myself: I came to help point these people to Jesus and I have been so blessed that they are pointing me to walk closer to Him.

What do people see when they see my face? Lord may my heart be filled with joy so that others may see Jesus in me.

Updates

Only three more treatments to go. The time has quickly passed; we have enjoyed this time in Florida. Most of the prostate cancer victims are retired, so many of them call this period a “radiation vacation.” I cannot bring myself to call it a vacation—I mean every day I have the same routine, and it is definitely not something that I would call a vacation. I have enjoyed keeping up with my work every day. It has been challenging. I am one of those who doesn’t like to work from home anyhow, but I have to admit it has been a productive time. Maybe because I wasn’t in the office!?

We moved Rolfe Dorsey to a nursing home last weekend while we were in Louisville. The hospital would not keep him as he has requested no treatment for the cancer. His internist is the medical director of the home where we placed him, and Rolfe and his doctor have a very close relationship. His doctor walks with the Lord and has had several long prayer/teaching times with Rolfe over the last two weeks. He is taking good care of Rolfe and we feel good about his care in the home. Rolfe called today and asked me to arrange for him to go home to die. He is experiencing some dementia and is getting weaker every day. I had to tell him that he would not return to his home. That was hard. I have learned a lot about the legal aspects of death, and it will help me to better prepare my family for the inevitable.

Many have asked Cheryl how Allison is doing planning a wedding without her mother. If they asked me I would say, “Allison is so organized that she will take care of everything; besides she has our credit card.” Plans are going well for the June 23 wedding, and we are looking forward to having all our family together—which does not happen very often—and many of our extended family and very dear friends participate in this very special event.

Doorbells

When we built our house four years ago it never occurred to us to have a doorbell on the front door. I guess part of the reason is that we have never lived in a house overseas with a doorbell. After we moved in we realized that even though our driveway is nearly a half mile long, someone could be at our front door without us knowing it. We made a wise decision and added a driveway alert way down below our house that lets us know when someone is coming up our drive. It has helped in several situations—for example the night a pickup pulled up our drive without the lights on. They stopped at the barn below the house and when they got out of the pickup I pointed my heavy duty spot light at them and turned it on. They yelled, “Don’t shoot. We are looking for our dogs.” Two coon hunters thought they were slipping around looking for their dogs and did not know they had activated our driveway alert.

I am thinking a lot about doorbells over the last few weeks as there is one in the gantry where I am being treated. While I am lying there I cannot see anything except the top of the big gantry. I can’t see the therapists, but I can hear them moving about. So I listen for sounds to get me an idea of how much longer I have to hold it. There’s the sound of the X-ray machines going back into the back of the gantry. There is the sound of the therapists placing he two huge brass lenses into the zapper (custom made lenses for the shape of my prostate). Then there are the soft sounds that you really have to concentrate to hear such as their quiet footsteps in the direction of a particular computer where they are aligning my body with the machine. When the therapists have completed their tasks for preparing me for the treatment, they push a doorbell as a signal that they are exiting the gantry and will be observing me via cameras. I have to really strain to hear that faint sound, but I love the sound of that doorbell as it signals the halfway point in the treatment. The beautiful sound of that doorbell means that I only have 10 more minutes before I can visit the little boy’s room.

We close our eyes when we pray. Why? One reason is to drown out distractions that keep us from concentrating on talking with God. Do you think another reason is that when we close our eyes we can concentrate more on listening to God? Much of my prayer time is telling God what I need for Him to hear and not enough is straining to listen to what He wants to say to me.

Footprints

As we were walking on the beach late one afternoon, I was thinking more about water—water seems to occupy of lot of my idle thinking time. As we walked at the edge of the tide coming in, the water washed away all traces of my steps. It brought sand, shells and debris onto the beach and it took sand, shells and debris back out into the ocean. I have been thinking about legacy a lot lately. I suppose that is very natural for someone who is 63—probably even more so when you are diagnosed with cancer.

I started to think about how I want people to remember me—assuming that anyone will. That was not supposed to be a “feel sorry for myself” moment. I am just thinking about memories of my own family for example. I have to admit I know very little about my great grandparents. I don’t even know much about my mother’s father as he died when I was a preschooler. So my grandchildren’s children probably won’t know much about me.

I have come to the conclusion that all that worrying and planning to leave behind footprints for others to follow is really a waste of time. They will be washed away just like the tide washes the shells, sand and debris. Soon after the tide does its work there are more footprints left in the sand, and the tide comes in again to wash them away.

My job is to be the best follower of Jesus, husband, father, father-in-love, Papa, colleague, friend and family member that I can possibly be. Am I leaving footprints behind? Yes, but they are for my children, grandchildren, colleagues, friends and family members to follow NOW. They are my legacy.

Rx pride

I have had a lot of pride in myself that I have not had to take any long-term prescription drugs. I have had more than one person’s share of skeletal problems, but I have been blessed to have lived this long without having to take a lot of medicine.

My neurosurgeon told me during a visit last year about another ruptured disc in my neck, and I sighed and told him that I was falling apart. He reassured me that my bad back and neck were serious-enough problems, but I should be very happy because I did not have anything that would kill me! Actually, that was comforting and I have often repeated that to myself when I talk with friends and family who do have things that will kill them.

But, I still don’t like taking medications, so I have resisted taking pain pills after surgeries and toughed it out—maybe that is pride also?!

As I have shared with you on this blog, I have had difficulties with the urgency to “go.” It has been especially unbearable as I lie on the table in the gantry and try not to have an accident (that’s what we say about puppies, so I assume it is OK for me to say that here). I don’t care what others say about that urge, “oh, it is just in the mind, and you have to get control of your thoughts” or something like that. It doesn’t matter what I try to think about or try to control mind over matter, I still can’t get over that urgency. Shifting would help, but that is forbidden.

Finally at my weekly doctor’s visit on Thursday, he asked me if I would be willing to take some medication to help with this problem. Silence. My pride kicked in and I said I would have to think about it; then, practicality trumped pride. After 10 seconds of thinking about it, I said that I was willing to try anything to help this situation to be ameliorated. I left his office with two prescriptions and feeling a bit defeated.

I had an early morning treatment yesterday, and I came out of the gantry feeling like a new man. That medication was wonderful. Pride lost…Rx won.

Little children

The majority of the patients at the proton institute are old men with prostate cancer. Most of us are treated in the yellow gantry. There is a red gantry and also a blue one. All day these two gantries are used to treat children—most of whom have some type of malignant tumor. Most of the children have to be anesthetized for the treatment as they are too young to understand to lie perfectly still for a few minutes.

We see these children coming and going each day while we are waiting for my treatment. There are those who have already undergone chemo treatment and they have no hair. Some have patches over one eye. Many have huge (for their tiny bodies they look huge) scars on their heads from surgeries. Some of the children have come to the institute as a last ditch effort to heal their infirmity. All of the parents of these children come with the hope that their child will leave this place healed.

How sad to see the little children suffering. I pray for them as I see them walking by. Some of them are crying as they walk into the hall that leads to the gantries. Some have big smiles, but all of them have a very serious illness that brought them from all over the world for this very special treatment.

I count my blessings every day when I see these children. Cheryl and I have 11 grandchildren—all of them are in perfect health. We are so blessed. Thank you Lord for the little children. Mark 10:13a

Repete

The therapists have begun to take those real time X-rays after my zapping. I asked why and was told that they need to repeat the same process that they do before the beamer hits the spot. OK, so repeat means to do something again that you have already done, right? So, why do you repeat the process I asked the therapist. I received a lot more info that I can repeat, but the gist of it is that they want to make sure that the gold coils (remember those things implanted in my prostate that they aim for) are lined up before and after the radiating. So, technically they did not repeat the procedure because the second one was different from the first. That was all the therapist cared to talk about this issue.

When I was just a sweet little thing—4-5 years old—I would sit on the chopping block in the general store owned by Leon Tate in Black Hawk, Mississippi. The patrons laughed at me because I loved to eat “goose liver” from Mr. Leon’s meat box. I had an early start enjoying different foods. These same fellows gave me a nick name—Repete. They would say that I was a “spitting image” of Pete Cox.

All my life I have been told how much I look like my dad. That never bothered me as I think both of us are handsome dudes. Many have told me how some of my mannerisms are similar to Pete’s. Just like Pete, I love working in the soil. I love the smell of dirt. I enjoy tilling, planting, weeding, and harvesting food, flowers and trees—just like Pete.

My dad’s name is James Wesley Cox, but I don’t remember anyone calling him by that name while I was growing up. He was and still is “Pete.”  I have never heard him introduce himself as James Wesley, James or James W. Cox—just Pete Cox.

Ten of our eleven grandchildren (one can’t talk yet) call my dad Pete. Our children grew up calling him Pop, but somehow we are all now calling him Pete. I think he likes it that way.

No one calls me Repete anymore, and that’s OK. I am proud to be a repeat of Pete, so in my heart I will always be Repete.

Things I don't need to pray for

Each day I try my best to have a prayer time while I am receiving my treatment. I say try because some days all I can think of is about having to go to the toilet. I have to fill up with water to keep my bladder from getting zapped with the beam. You know that feeling when you have to go and you can’t sit still. Well, think about lying still without a movement for fear that something else might get the mighty power of the radiation. It does not matter what you try to concentrate on, it does not affect that urge.

Now, I am sure that the Lord does not want perfunctory time for prayer, and that is all I could give Him if I am trying to pray and I gotta go! Fortunately, the situation is not so urgent all the time, and in those moments I have had some sweet time with the Lord.

I have been concentrating this week on things that I do not need to pray for. That’s right; there are some things that I don’t need to pray for. Here is a list of some of those things:

1.      My need to be appreciated. I don’t need praise from those around me. It is true everyone likes to hear positive comments about themselves, but in my heart of hearts, my Lord is the only one I want to impress. John 12:43

2.      My need to appear intelligent. I am not a preacher, I am a farmer, so I don’t have to impress everyone with how smart I am or what a great orator I am. My father-in-law only had a high school education, but he traveled in circles with national and international leaders. I once asked him how he was able to talk to so many intelligent people. He replied, “Most people only want to talk about themselves, so I listen closely and I only make occasional comments such as ‘It could very well be,’ ‘Among other things,’ and ‘Yes, indeed!’” People love it when you agree with them, and they think you are very intelligent. I Corinthians 1:17-21

3.      My need to be first. OK, so I am competitive, but I certainly don’t need to pray to be the first. Years ago Jason gave me a framed quote by Alexander Pope: “ Be not the first by whom the new are tried, nor yet the last to lay the old aside.” Many times I have gained lessons from this quote, but primary among them is that I don’t need to be first. John 3:30

4.      My need to be wealthy. I thought I was marrying wealth when I married Cheryl. I was right, but not in the way I thought. Wealth is measured in so many different ways. We are wealthy with money by the majority of the world’s standards, but the best wealth is the love that I share with my family and friends through the bond of Jesus. Luke 16:13

5.      My future. I am not afraid of death. I don’t seek death, but when it comes I want to stare it in the face and know that I am ready to meet my Lord and sing with the choirs of angels. Jeremiah  29:11

Colleagues

Cheryl and I decided that we would not try to go home during my treatment. It is a seven hour drive one way, so it is not worth the time on the road to be home for such a short time. We have been content to spend time with new friends from the Proton Therapy Institute and with some other friends here in the Jacksonville area.

I flew to Atlanta last Thursday for an important meeting with six other WinShape leaders. As we started the meeting I asked for prayer requests. I became very emotional as my colleagues started to share some of their concerns for other team members and family.  I realized that I had really missed intercessory prayer with my friends.

Recently our international team gathered for a planning retreat here in Jacksonville Beach, and the first order of business was sharing our concerns and praying about them. What a sweet time! We prayed and cried. I think if more men cried there would be better husbands, fathers, grandfathers, and colleagues.

Cheryl and I have had some great time together in prayer during our three weeks in Jacksonville, but I missed the privilege of praying with my work colleagues. It is an opportunity that I have often taken for granted. In how many workplaces can you share your deepest concerns and then pray together about those things?

Thank you, Lord, for the honor of sharing my concerns with my colleagues and then bringing them to your feet.

Rolfe Dorsey

I have had literally hundreds of mentors in my life. Many of them have been older; many have been peers; and some have been much younger than me. Some of them spoke into my life for years, and some just for a short season. But there have been three very important long-term mentors in my life. My dad, Pete, is one of these. There are two others who are not blood relatives, but who have helped to shape me for ministering to others since I was a teenager. I cannot describe in words all that they have done for me in helping me become a servant of Christ. If you see any good in me, you can thank my dad, Rolfe Dorsey and John McCall. For all the bad you recognize in me, that’s Larry.

I met both Dr. Rolfe Dorsey and Dr. John McCall when I was 19 and a sophomore at Mississippi College. In different seasons in my life over the past 44 years one or both of these men have spoken into my life in such a way that I have been a better husband, father, grandfather, friend, colleague and certainly a better follower of Christ.

I shared in another post about how I was hurting that one of these mentors, Rolfe Dorsey, was diagnosed with esophageal cancer last week. I have learned today that the cancer has spread to his liver.  This was devastating news to hear. Rolfe and I have talked about his death for the past 10 years. There are no other family members engaged in his life since his wife died of MS over 25 years ago. He calls our family his only family.

A couple months ago I remarked to Cheryl that I thought Rolfe was showing signs of dementia. In the past six months he has lost significant weight and most recently he has had difficulty swallowing. On Tuesday, I asked him to go to the emergency room because he could not swallow at all. Everything has happened so quickly in the last few days. He knows he is dying and he has refused any treatment. He has become belligerent with the nurses because he wants to go home to die. Rolfe is ready to be with Jesus. He asked me long ago not to let his caregivers do anything to prolong his life. His physician told me today over the telephone that in all his years of practice he has never seen anyone as prepared and ready to depart this life as Rolfe is.

As I write these words I am on a plane headed to Louisville where Rolfe is hospitalized. I am going to say goodbye, or rather, see you later, to a dear friend. As his only family, my responsibility is to carry out his last requests. I wish it was not me. This is so hard. I have to make decisions about his life and his death. But, the Lord has given me a peace about this experience. I have listened to my mentor hundreds of times over the years. He has not let me down. Now he is depending on me to do the right thing for him. Rolfe Dorsey has shown me how to live. Now he is showing me how to die and how to join the angels in glory before the feet of Jesus. PRAISE! JOY!

[note: I wrote this Friday night, but I have been busy all day getting Rolfe moved into a palliative unit to spend his last few days in this life. It has been a hard time in many ways, but it has truly been a time of joy as God gave us so much time together—4 am – present time 8pm Saturday. He has not had any sedative since last night, and he has been alert all day. We discussed all the arrangements for his memorial service. What a joy! He is not afraid of death, and he has chosen how he wants to die. I have been reading verses of Praise from the Bible. He is indeed ready to meet His creator. AMEN!]                                   

Real Time

When the therapists get me settled in my mold and have taken care of the other preliminaries, they have to get me lined up with the beam machine for the treatment. Crucial to this alignment is the X-ray process. I broke my wrist in December and I have had a lot of X-rays on my wrist recently. I would plop my arm on the X-ray table, hold still for a few seconds while the technicians are out of the room, and it was finished quickly—a piece of cake!

The X-rays before each of my treatments are much more complicated. When they are treating my right side the proton beam is lined up on my right hip. One giant arm comes out of the back of the gantry and comes alongside my left side. Another giant arm comes out and is under my body. When the beam is lined up for treating my left side one arm is on my right side and the other is above me. Each of these arms is a very complex X-ray machine. They are not taking still images; these machines are taking “real time” images of my pelvic area. The two X-ray machines send these real time images to computers that sync with the lasers and the beam machine to get me perfectly lined up for the radiation.

You will recall that I had to go so bad one night last week that I said something out loud—that’s a no-no. If I talk, there is movement, and they have to start the real time X-rays over. That doesn’t make the therapists happy. And, let me tell you this: with all the things they are doing to my body, I ain’t gonna get them upset.

You know me. I a farmer and farmers are curious: what does real time mean? The Oxford Dictionary says this: the actual time during which a process or event occurs. They used part of the word to define the word. Do you think that helped me understand it better? When the dictionaries don’t have good meanings for words, they cover up by giving you examples of how it is used in sentences. But, I still have trouble defining it.

However, I don’t have trouble defining real time in my own life. I think it means actions that one has committed or pledged to perform. I made a commitment for real time with Cheryl 43 years ago. Sometimes I have not been as faithful with that commitment, but I know the difference in real time and perfunctory time. I have had a lot of practice with perfunctory time.

 Being here for the treatments has been good for our marriage. Cheryl and I have had more face time in these three weeks than we have in any 3 months since we were living in West Africa. We have had real time. I have continued to work, but without other distractions, I have spent much more time with her. She insists on driving into the city with me for the treatments so we have an additional hour each day to spend with each other. I enjoy my real time with Cheryl. She is my best friend and main squeeze—yes I have other squeezes: two daughters, two daughters-in-love, and 11 grandchildren.

Today while getting my treatment I prayed that I would spend real time with the rest of my family and with my colleagues at work and with friends. Perhaps others may not readily recognize when we give them perfunctory time, but we know the difference.

Covered

I climb onto the table very carefully for my treatments. A couple times I have moved the mold as I sat down on the table, and remember, I don’t want to get the therapists upset. Usually you have one of two young ladies at the foot of the table. Now tell me how am I supposed to get on the table without moving the mold and without exposing myself. Why should I worry as they will be working on my torso after all.

My dad was complaining over the phone about wearing a hospital gown in the hospital. You know the type that does not cover the cheeks. I told him he gets no sympathy from me—I am wearing one every day!

I am wondering every day in the dressing room about this: millions of dollars of high-tech equipment in this facility and we are still using ice-age gowns. I am speaking figuratively and literally here. Figuratively, they expose your figure. Literally, I get freezing cold. The therapists tell me that the temperature in the gantry is 70, but they could hang fresh meat in there to cure, I am sure. When I mention that it is cold, they say, “Do you really think it’s cold? I don’t think so.” I respond, “Take off your pants and walk around, and then tell me it’s not cold!”

I would like to be covered to knock off some of the chill of this walk-in cooler. They are letting me wear a T-shirt under my gown as that doesn’t interfere with the construction zone. There is no chance to be covered as they are getting me all adjusted for the zapping, so I am resolved no longer to worry about being covered.

As I get settled on the table, I am reminded each day that I am covered—by the prayers of the faithful. I am grateful for you because you care enough to read this blog. Thank you for your prayer support. Cheryl and I have been blessed to be covered by the prayers of so many people over the years who have interceded for us and our family. How sweet it is to be covered by the prayers of brothers and sisters in Christ.

Pete and Rolfe

My dad was not able to have the cathetherization on Monday afternoon, so his physician did it today. They found some blockage and they did another stent. If all goes well, he should be able to go home tomorrow. Thanks for your prayer support.

Now I need to ask for prayer support for Rolfe Dorsey, who has been a mentor for me since I was 18 years old. His wife passed away with MS about 25 years ago. He is a retired pastor living in Louisville, KY, and he has no family to care for him. We have been very close for these years and I am distressed because he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer on Thursday. I talked with him tonight, and he could not swallow at all. We arranged for a neighbor to take him to the emergency room tonight, and he has been admitted. My grief is that I cannot be with him now when he needs me.

Thank you for your intercession.

Seasons

Before we kept all our contact information in computers, many of our friends liked to show us their address books. They would turn to the entry for “Cox” and show us what a mess it was on that page. Their point was that we have moved so many times that they did not have enough room in their address books. My response was simple—write in pencil! Years ago Cheryl and I counted the times we have moved. It is embarrassing to tell how many times we have changed addresses in the last 37 years. Interestingly enough, during those 37 years since we first moved to France, I have only worked for three different organizations. However, most of those moves came while working overseas and living in six countries.

My dad has called us gypsies for many years—I don’t think it is a compliment! We have three personal mailing addresses now, so we continue to propagate the idea of mobility.  It is really not about mobility, but it is about seasons of life.

As I talk with young leaders I enjoy reminding them that life is full of seasons. Just like the seasons of the year, one season follows another, and some seasons are better than others for us. God walks us through many seasons in our lives, and sometimes those seasons overlap. When we return to Rome, Georgia in three weeks, we will be entering into a season of family time. Allison is getting married—oh happy day—and all our immediate family will be together for a short time for the wedding. That does not happen very often.

It will also be a very busy season at WinShape. Our campus at Berry College will be bustling with the arrival of over 400 college students who will work in one of our two resident camps or with our Camps for Communities in 63 cities around the USA.  It is a season of international projects. As we return home WinShape International will have projects going on in Kenya, Zambia, Peru and Greece. IMPACT 360 will end its sixth season soon, and WinShape College Program will launch another large group of students into the world.

Seasons come and seasons end. Some get more attention because we experience challenges, but the Father is in control of the seasons. This time of treatment in Florida is a short season in our lives, and it is one-half over today. I had treatment #14, and I am scheduled to have 28 treatments. Thank you, Lord, for this season in our lives.