Christianity Archives - Page 6 of 8 - Ashley Hackshaw / Lil Blue Boo

The Ghost of Cancer Past

December 14, 2013 by Ashley Hackshaw

People try to make me a fixed star, but I am a wandering planet.
-from the movie Luther

Hearing that Jennifer Arnold has a rare cancer brings back all kinds of emotions. I too had that rare cancer. I was stage 3 Choriocarcinoma. When people ask what type of cancer I had and I tell them I usually get a blank stare. They’ve never heard of it. It’s scary having something no one has heard of. I remember thinking: why can’t I just have a normal cancer? As if cancer were normal. This is why I’m glad no one can read my mind. I’m praying for Jennifer and her family. Praying for her healing.

Going through old photos recently has been like looking at someone else’s life. Except it’s mine. I have no other story except this one. I am not the same person I was before. A pastor at my church has asked me to give a testimony on Christmas Eve and I’ve accepted…

[insert heart palpitations and nausea here]

Part of me wants to say no. I go back and forth about it every day. I’m scared to do it. I keep thinking of nightmare scenarios…like what if I say the word douche accidentally? Or what if I do my really ugly cry and can’t stop? I cried through a meeting the other day at church! Who does that!?

In thinking about what my testimony should be I’ve been thinking about what’s changed in me. I mean there’s the obvious….I went from girly to boy-ly. The rest….well, I’m struggling with how to put it into words.

It’s hard to pinpoint what changed and when. It’s like staging when I step back and look at it all:

“B.C.” Before Cancer: I was a happy person before cancer. I was motivated and hard working. If I work hard enough, everything will be perfect…one day.

Surgery Trauma: Suddenly I was thrown into the world of cancer. I thought I was pregnant. I don’t think cancer should result from the thought of pregnancy. It’s like taking the hope of the world and then turning it into doomsday. They were just going to go in with a camera and look around. I went under anesthesia and I woke up in ICU, looking all ragged and with someone else’s blood. Kind of like Frankenstein. The whole idea of “looking around” was all false advertising.

Chemotherapy: I started chemotherapy before I’d even had a chance to comprehend what had happened. And for the first time, I found that I had physical limits. I was forced to stop. I was reduced to accepting help. Pride goeth after a fall sometimes.

New Chemotherapy: The first line of chemotherapy was unsuccessful. So a second line started. I think that’s about the time I just stopped caring what they did to me. It seemed much easier to just surrender. I just found myself praying: Dear God, just don’t make it too painful. [Read more…]

Be a Better Stranger

December 3, 2013 by Ashley Hackshaw

He was a who, not a what, just like me.

Last night I was at the grocery store and an elderly man dropped a box of orange juice. As I reached down to help him, he commented how clumsy he was these days. I could tell he was a veteran. I have a special place in my heart for veterans. I told him I was clumsy all the time. I commented that all the orange juices looked the same and I had to make sure I wasn’t getting one with pulp because Boo doesn’t like pulp, and he said something about not having pulp is not getting the bang for your buck. I smiled at him and he told me that my smile belonged in the Smithsonian and I told him he made my day. He was slow as he made his way around the store. I was slower. In the frozen aisle I told him I was finally going to pull ahead of him. At the produce area he said we needed to stop running into each other like this. He caught up to me again in the dairy section. We both stood in front of the dairy staring at all the selections. Shoppers swarmed all around us in a hurry. I told him it was all too confusing and I didn’t know what half the stuff was. He said he was a no frills kind of guy. I told him I was a no frills kind of girl. He said he knew I was. As I said goodbye he said it was so nice meeting you and I told him it was extra nice meeting him. I noticed his eyes were especially sparkly. I wondered how many times he’s been passed by in a hurry as if invisible. This holiday season my focus is on being slow and present, and maybe if I’m just slow enough I’ll run into the war veteran again.

The quote above is from the book Life is a Verb by Patti Digh. I love this:

You never know when you might be the highlight in a trip, a needed word, a special kindness. You never know when you might find the friend you’ve needed, or the learning that changes everything for you […] this was a real person with a name and a history and stories that make him laugh and cry. He was a who, not a what, just like me. –Patti Digh, Life is a Verb

Mr. Veteran was the highlight of my grocery trip.
I like people with no frills.
Cut straight to the real and raw.
He was a who, not a what, just like me.

P.S. I think I should start buying orange juice with pulp.

The Story of Dot

November 21, 2013 by Ashley Hackshaw

This year I became friends with the most unlikely friend: Dot.

People had warned me that Dot was cranky and difficult. I was curious and decided I was going to meet Dot. One day I went up to Dot and introduced myself. And yes, Dot was cranky, and angry, and short with me. Dot asked me why I cared. I asked if Dot could help me with a little project I was working on. Dot said yes.

As Dot and I worked on this project, I learned more from Dot in just a few months than I’d learned from anyone else in a long time. Dot was smart and Dot wanted to help. I listened to Dot’s point of view. I told Dot my point of view. I learned from Dot. Every week Dot became more excited about the project we were working on.

I asked people, “Do you know Dot?”
They said, “Dot’s a jerk.”
I told them they didn’t know Dot then. Maybe they should get to know Dot.

One day Dot laughed. It was the first time I’d seen Dot laugh.

One day Dot said, “I feel inspired. I stand up a little taller now.” I left quickly so that Dot could not see my tears.

Dot just wanted to be seen, heard and appreciated.

Bill Hybels said in his book Just Walk Across the Room:

What if you knew that by simply crossing the room and saying hello to someone, you could change that person’s forever?

What if that walk could change your forever too?

Maybe you know a Dot.

See Dot. Hear Dot. Learn about Dot. Appreciate Dot.

Take a genuine interest.