Losses/Gains

The only other time I have been through another other big medical issue was July 4th weekend of 2000. Dick and I, with our two daughters, were scheduled to fly to northern California for a week-long conference where we would be leading worship alongside one of our heroes of the faith, Chuck Swindoll. This had been on the calendar for a year or so and we were all very excited about it. On the Friday before we would fly out on Sunday, I was at the mall picking up a few last minute items. I began to see a host of floaters in one of my eyes and had no clue what these were. I drove home, called my optometrist who was out of town for the holiday, and he encouraged me to immediately find another doctor to have my eye examined. The following morning, I saw an ophthalmologist (there’s a big ole story about the generosity of this man who came into his practice on the 4th of July weekend just to see me).  He took me to an exam room, put a covering over my good eye (left) and said, “Tell me what letters you can read on the chart”. In my right eye, I literally saw nothing. Black. Dark. Zero. Zilch. Nada. And I told him. He then took a deeper look, diagnosed a detached retina, and arranged for surgery the following morning. Whirlwind! Clearly, our wonderful California plans wouldn’t be happening. Dick made the necessary calls, and we adjusted our lives. 

The surgery was successful but the meticulous healing process would require that I lay on my left side for two weeks. The only exceptions to this allowed me to sit up when I was eating or walk to the bathroom, but other than that I was laying down. Glued on my left side. No rapid eye moment was allowed for these two weeks, which translated to no scanning of a book or magazine, no watching television, etc. My sweet family would keep me company, and I remember fondly our daughters reading to me as I laid as still as I could.

As you can imagine, during those two weeks the Lord and I had some deep conversations. Often I would lie in our bedroom alone, praying, questioning, thinking and overthinking. I composed many songs of lament that He patiently listened to with themes like Why, O Lord? What are you trying to teach me? Is this punishment? What is the point of you “stopping my life”? 

I’m just giving you the “cliff notes” version of this story, but let me take you to the end of it. First of all, the Lord preserved my sight. I have no repercussions from that traumatic episode where I was rushed into surgery and given hope, but also told that I might not be able to see sufficiently from that eye. Of course, I am so grateful for complete restoration. But second, and more important, God taught me so many deep truths in those 2 weeks and the recovery to follow. He showed me facets of His character I could never have understood otherwise. He patiently grew me more into His image – which often involved painful illuminations of areas in my life where I did not look like Jesus. Ultimately, Dick and I ended up writing a whole album full of songs we later recorded, each one born in some way by this experience. (This project was appropriately called, “Are You Listening?” – which I had plenty of time to do. If you’d like to hear my favorite cut, which also sums up a lot of this story, it would be this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNnIAiwtdG0&list=RDdNnIAiwtdG0&start_radio=1)

I remember about a month later, as my sight was continuing to come back, I said something to Dick that, as it came out of my mouth, sounded profound and hard for me to believe I was actually saying it. But even with the most measured of words, I knew this was truth. I said, “Babe, because of what the Lord has done in my heart since my detached retina, I am so grateful that I almost want to say, ‘Lord, take my other eye’, if it would allow me to grow and go even deeper with Him.”  The pain and suffering from that event was overshadowed by the benefits and growth that God worked in my heart. Was there loss? Yes. But the gain superseded it. 

These verses were pinnacle ones for me: 

“But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God by faith.” (Philippians 3:7-9)

Fast forward to May of 2026. There are definitely losses and gains I’m recognizing in this season. 

First, let’s give some perspective to the losses. 

“We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, for what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
(2 Corinthians 4:7-8, 16-18)

The losses that come to mind for me over the last 6 months ultimately are light, momentary, and temporary. Especially in the scope of eternity. Here are a few that I am aware of: 

• The lack of hair on my head is something I still haven’t gotten used to. I wear wigs and beanies, but sometimes when I take them off and glance in the mirror I find myself surprised at what I see in front of me. For this season, I’ve lost the physical picture of who I have been previously.

• My brain, for the most part, is working. 😀 But there are definitely moments I can’t really concentrate, or read anything with depth, or write and be creative. Gratefully, there are other times when I feel more “normal” in that area. But when I’m not able to focus, I don’t feel like myself. As my oncologist has said, “Chemo brain is real”.

• I try to play the piano or the cello, and my fingers tingle. I’m so thankful I’m still able to play, and the hope is that the neuropathy I’m experiencing will lessen as the chemo ultimately leaves my body (Have I mentioned that I’ve finished my last chemotherapy???) 🎉🎉🎉

• My singing voice has weakened. Notes are harder to sustain. I sing along with worship music I have playing in the kitchen, and remind the Lord I’m doing my best to make a joyful noise. 

• My overall strength has lessened markedly. Dick and I take walks down our long driveway, and sometimes I can only do 2 or 3 laps. I dream of the day I will be able to meander down that path as many times as I’d like to. 

Things are definitely different. And in each of the aforementioned bullet points, you can probably detect how they could be assigned to a “loss column”. But in case you’re thinking I am swirling down into a pit of despair (gratefully, I’m not), let me talk about two amazing gains.

• My relationship with Jesus has deepened, grown, settled, amazed me, quieted me, taught me, and ultimately brought true and lasting peace I can’t begin to understand. He has proven Himself over and over to be Emmanuel, God with me. And I have experienced Him to be both Mighty and Merciful. As Dick and I were discussing this, we came to a conclusion that there is an intimacy and tenderness in our walk with the Lord that is possibly only revealed to us in times of suffering. And oh, how precious that personal, intentional, gentle love has been to me! 

• Another astonishing gain has been experiencing the extravagant display of the body of Christ towards Dick and I. This truly has astounded us! The support from brothers and sisters – family, some precious new friends, some treasured old friends – people reaching out to encourage us in the most timely of ways . . . this has rocked our world! I understand the beauty of having others help to carry your burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2) and what it means to be devoted to one another and honor someone above yourself. (Romans 12:10). We’ve seen those scriptures modeled. We’ve been the poster children on the receiving end of how God’s people were designed to love and serve one another. 

(This is a shirt designed and spearheaded by my friend, Jan, with powerful attributes using the first letters of “Tribe”. These five words have been lived out over and over again by so many!)

So now, read the Philippians passage once more – this time from The Message:

“The very credentials these people are waving around as something special, I’m tearing up and throwing out with the trash—along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him. I didn’t want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ—God’s righteousness.
(Philippians 3:7-9, The Message)

No matter what stage of life you are in, how your health is faring, or what challenging circumstance you may find yourself in right now, if you are a Christ-follower I hope you’ll allow yourself to view your situation from a place of gain rather than loss. What is God teaching you? How is He demonstrating His love to you? How are you growing? Sometimes it’s all about perspective, isn’t it? I could look back on the last 6 months of my life and see them through a lens of what has been lost to me. But really and truly, I don’t. You’ve heard the phrase, “One person’s loss is another person’s gain”? I would almost say, “One person’s loss can be that same person’s gain.”

I mentioned him earlier, but let me close with these wise words from our buddy, Chuck Swindoll:

“I don’t think I’ve ever learned any deep, lasting, life-changing lessons on the crest of success.
I have learned very little from winning, but I have learned a great deal from losing.”