Heart Felt News

Monday, Monday

2012-01-31T01:02:00.000-08:00

Monday
1-30-2012

Yup, Monday, Monday... are ya singing yet? I posted those two words on Facebook last week and had a round going with the lyrics and some Facebook friends. Funny how silly things can stir people's responses. Interesting how things of the spirit, things of the deepest part of our souls, can go untouched. We have deep waters to tread, and often, no one wants to stir whats below the surface.

This morning, in a frenzy of scheduling and working, I stopped to smile and be happy about my life. What can anyone, anything, any thought, any offence from the past, or any failure today, possibly do to stop me from living, loving, and knowing who I am.

What are you thinking of right now? Have you twiddled on Facebook or tweeted jokes? Packed your schedule and then when you have time to sit, find your fidgety? Do you avoid looking under the surface and instead choose to keep busy so you can tread water?

The deep parts of our workings are the best parts of who we are. Instead of shying away from dark areas we want to avoid, we do better to scoop up all that we are and march forward.

Tuesday, Tuesday...

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Home Alone?

2012-01-02T00:43:00.000-08:00

January 1, 2012

After the difficult year I've had in 2011, it seems like I'm never alone. Never "home alone" or able to be completely alone for a period of time. Cleaning needs to be done, TV shows blare, the phone rings, the doorbell rings, someone needs something or can't find something, mail is piled on the counter, and I can't find a place of stillness. So today, I went out to my backyard and pruned my fruit trees. It was quiet--a cold January day when no one wants to be outside doing yard work.

I setup my fruit tree ladder and began the task. Three apple, two plum, and a cherry tree stood helpless from my shears. But pruning tends to be painful for me too. All those promising branches cut and trimmed to strengthen the tree. I watched as branches dropped to the ground below. I knew it was a good way for my trees to start the new growing season come spring.

And while I stood balanced on top of my 12 foot fruit tree ladder, soft, unusually warm January air brought a gentle breeze and I looked around my neighborhood. I could see all the yards asleep for winter; covered patio furniture and locked sheds shut down for the season. But my eyes focused on the mountain behind the rooftops--Mica Peak. At the bottom was a lake. I hadn't been there in a long time. Especially alone.

Have you ever asked someone you love to join you? "Let's you and me go somewhere. Just the two of us alone."

But if you're with someone, you're not really alone. When was the last time you were completely alone? Just you. And have you ever said, "I need to be alone with God?" What is it to be alone with God?

But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works. (Psalm 73:28 KJV)

Alone with God is to draw near to him and trust him. I thought of 2012. This new year will be challenging for myself and many other people. One of the best ways to draw near to God is to be totally alone with him--you and God only. I want to be alone with him; quiet before him.

This week, I'm going to that lake, parking my car, and will hike along the trail for hours so I can listen to God. Him and me and his creation. I want to hear him and what his will is for me in 2012.

Find a place where you can really be alone with God and spend some time with him. Not home alone ... just you and God, alone, somewhere.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Okay, Here We Come 2012

2011-12-31T13:17:00.000-08:00

I'm hanging low today. Still recovering from 20+ stitches after a cancer surgery. Thinking of the events of 2011 and being melancholy. I'm only here to write this because of a 13 year old girl who died trying to save her 4 year old cousin from a drunk driver. On May 12, 2011, I received her pancreas. I wouldn't have lived much longer without the transplant. I also received a heart in 2005. Her family is grieving as they move into 2012. I'm going to ignore the passage of a numeric date and instead wake up to a new day and a new opportunity to be filled with life and joy.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Book Review: The Promise of Deer Run by Elain Marie Cooper

2011-11-21T20:02:00.000-08:00

Nathaniel, one of the troops at West Point, New York in 1783, wakens from a difficult night's sleep like many others interrupted by serving in America's war with England. The cheers of victory as news of the triumphant end to a battle for independence from England's reign, left Nathaniel standing, reluctant to join the celebrations. His thoughts were of a war of personal tragedy that occurred alongside the three years he served.

Once he was freed from his service, the looming pain of his stalled life at home surfaced. A lovely woman, the return to family and community, guilt, loss, marriage, and the harsh conditions of life on the farmland, all become ingredients for this deeply moving novel.

Throughout Cooper's book, the delicate details and historical accuracy bring you into the homes, trials, and lives of the characters and when reconciliation and restoration join the ending of the story, it's as if your own tears will need to be wiped away at the endurance of love and faith.

I committed to this review weeks ago, but personal tragedy of my own caused my reading to occur tonight. I am better readied for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holiday season after reading this exquisite book. What warmth Cooper's story brought to my own broken heart as I cuddled with the last few pages.

Buy a copy for yourself to break away from the stress of this time, and buy several for friends and family to offer them the same comfort I received from this wonderful read.

Cindy Valenti Scinto

The Promise of Deer Run
Elaine Marie Cooper
Finalist: 2011 Nest Generation Indie Book Awards
Honorable Mention: 2011 Los ANgeles Book Festival
Best Romantic Moment: ClashoftheTitles.com, February 2011

Elaine Marie Cooper grew up in Massachusetts but now lives in the Midwest with her husband, her three dogs and one huge cat. She has two married sons and triplet grandchildren who are now one years old. The Promise of Deer Run is dedicated to the triplets and to veterans who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Elaine has been a magazine freelance writer for many years, and is a regular contributor to a blog on the Midwest called The Barn Door and a blog on Christian living called Reflections In Hindsight. She is the author of The Road to Deer Run and the sequel, The Promise of Deer Run. Prior to becoming an author, Elaine worked as a registered nurse.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Organ Donation Brings Life Once Again

2011-10-03T16:00:00.000-07:00

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

On Your Knees!

2011-09-11T23:02:00.000-07:00

Monday
9-12-2011

Our worship team had a quarterly meeting this week. Someone brought up the idea of allowing people to feel free to sit during the worship time. We always invite people to stand for the worship but for some people, standing may be physically difficult or they may be exhausted from a tough night before. Other people may prefer to worship while sitting or still others may feel condemned or judged if they sit--like they've been disrespectful to the Lord.

I went to church with my dad every Sunday, along with my eleven siblings. Our traditional denomination required kneeling, sitting, and standing at different places during the mass. There were benches to kneel on, but as my dad aged, it became painful for him to bend his arthritic knees. Still, he was dedicated to his faith and to the institution that ministered to him.

One Sunday, I watched my dad slowly kneel down, his hands holding the pew in front of him tightly. When he tried to stand per the commanded ritual, his faced grimaced with pain and his knuckles whitened at his tightened grip on the pew. The suffocating temperature in the sanctuary added to his effort, causing beads of sweat to stream down his face.

"Dad, why do you kneel if it is so hard to and hurts you so bad?" My question was from a child's heart breaking over her dad's painful dedication.

"Because that's what we have to do in church," he grunted through labored breaths.

I looked around at the unaffected congregation. The mass continued, people carried on their sacrificial acts, children fidgeted, and the priests performed their tasks methodically. I was angry that such a place, such a God would want my dad to be in pain every Sunday.

My dad passed away when my first son was born. But before he died, he came out to visit and we talked much about the traditional faith we grew up in and the freedom I learned to accept from Jesus. I attended a different church now and his inquisitiveness was tempered with fear I'd lost my reverence of God--the same God we both loved and worshipped.

"Dad, it matters if we both believe in Jesus and have accepted that he is truly the one we've let into our hearts and lives as our God and savior. The name on the church and the methods of it's mass or service don't change this one truth."

He was at peace with my answer. And although he met Jesus and personally accepted his salvation during our visit, he still attended the same church until he passed away, and knelt down tortuously at every Sunday mass.

Sit, stand, kneel ... as I explore these thoughts on accepting people around us the way God made them and loving each other with the heart and eyes of Jesus, I simply want to extend grace and mercy.

On your knees? What really would Jesus expect?

One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. He threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan. Jesus asked, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Rise and go; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:15-18 NIV1984)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

WalMart Miracle

2011-09-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

Monday
9-5-2011

I'm not quite sure what all these messages and happenings are about, but I'm encountering a lot of appointments arranged by God and facilitated by my talkativeness.

Yesterday, John and I met at WalMart to pick up some groceries after church. We had separate cars. As we were checking out, I noticed a table in front of the eye center with a sign for flu shots. I pointed to it, showing John the sign.

"John, last year I waited too long and almost didn't get one. Let me see if they take our insurance."

"Go check it out. I'll finish here and bring the groceries home." He continued to transfer the sacks into our cart.

I made my way to the table and asked the RN if they took my insurance. She checked and told me they did and there was no cost to me.

Of course I started chatting and making jokes even as she tried to ask me all the required medical questions.

"Have you ever passed out?"

"Does dying in the ER count?" She looked up as the color quickly drained from her colorful cheeks.

"I'm sorry--have to kid around. I answer these questions all the time. I promise I won't die here."

We giggled and I continued to share my medical history, of course recounting my miraculous shenanigans and recent pancreas transplant. She was astounded and took in all that I blurted out in spit-fire phrases, never glancing away.

A young eyeglass technician walked over. "Did I hear you say you had a pancreas transplant?"

"Yes, only three months ago."

"My father is only 43 years old and he's dying from a damaged pancreas. No one can help him. He's almost dead now. Do you think those doctors in Chicago can help him?" His face was also intent on my story, but his motive was a desperate try at finding a way to save his dad.

I shared names and phone numbers for the pancreas program in Chicago. After we talked a bit and I told him about my encounters with God and the books I've written, he walked over, cautiously, and whispered, "Are you a Christian?"

"Yes, I am." The RN wasn't affected and she may not have been a Christian, but the young man was astonished and took that long breath in and exhaled, realizing God may have provided a miracle.

We talked a bit more. He had to get back to work, but we exchanged phone numbers. I told him I would check on his progress and we both agreed this was a God moment. I hope and pray he can get some help for his dad. They are already in debt for his health care and have no more money or credit to get to Chicago. He worried the lack of money and insurance would stop a chance at saving his dad.

"Don't worry about the money. Just concentrate on reaching someone in Chicago to help your dad. Obviously, God placed us in each others path for a reason." I held his arm and squeezed it lightly to affirm my confidence in God.

My chattiness once again allowed God to work in a big way. There are a lot of Bible verses that mention talkativeness and the folly of one quick to speak. And plenty of verses that mention the error of sinful chatter like lies and gossip. As I study this subject, I'm finding there is no where the Bible mentions not to speak or be talkative about good things, and God certainly used me once again to allow a miracle.

Jesus is my hero. I love that he overturned the tables at the temple when the he found a market. He wasn't concerned about making a ruckus. He wanted to get his point across.

On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple area and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. (Mark 11: 15-16 NIV1984)

And John the Baptist--Jesus' forerunner, he was quite the character. Eating wild honey and locusts out in the desert and known as "The voice of one crying out in the desert." (John 1) Have you ever heard a man yelling in the desert to get people's attention? I like John.

In Proverbs, and dare I indicate in any way, I, myself might compare to wisdom, but even she proclaims freely what the Lord wants to convey:

Listen, for I have worthy things to say; I open my lips to speak what is right. My mouth speaks what is true, for my lips detest wickedness. (Proverbs 8:6-7 NIV1984)

Are you chatty? Talkative? Do you chat incessantly in love and with the other person's (people's) good will in mind? Or do you ramble on with gossip, slandering, and bad news? Which is it? Leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Mary, Do You Know?

2011-08-28T13:10:00.001-07:00

Sunday
8-28-2011

"Terry, do you know that lady who just walked by?" I asked as I stared at the petite figure of an Asian woman as she walked to the back row of the sanctuary. Her delicate features were diminished by her pale complexion.

"No, I've never seen her." Terry returned to her conversation.

I sat in my regular spot against the back wall of the church with the ushers. It was necessary for me to stay far away from contact with germs, being a transplant patient, and that meant far away from the congregation.

"Terry, I'm going to sit with her. She looks new and she looks lonely. I'm going to take a chance today." I continued to stare at the woman now seated in a row by herself.

"Don't do it," Terry chided. "It's too soon after your pancreas transplant."

I grabbed my purse and Bible and mumbled how the Lord would protect me as I made my way to her row. I never do this—act foolishly about my immune compromised state and say the Lord told me to. But I knew he wanted me to.

Already into the worship service, I placed my stuff on the chair next to the woman and began to sing. It was hard to participate with my usual gusto. I could sing and sing loud and well, but the prior week had blown the wind from my joy. After worship, there were a few minutes for meet and greet.

I turned to the woman next to me. "Hi, I'm Cindy. Are you new here?" Most of the time people thought I was new from all the Sunday's I lost to hospitals and travel.

"I'm Mary. This is my third time here." She smiled at me and her pallid tone brightened. "Do you come here often?"

"Actually I've been at this church for years, but lately I've been gone a lot because of health problems. I had a pancreas transplant three months ago in Chicago." Mary perked up.

"Oh, I have pancreatitis and if I eat fatty foods I get real sick. I'm an alcoholic you know. Tried all the programs but keep falling back into temptation." She continued to tell me how she had a fiance who was a diabetic and also an alcoholic and they both were Christians but hadn't been in church for years. I could see their failing health had her concerned and she indicated she needed to find God's will for her life and to seek his help with drinking.

Pastor came up and the teaching began. The scripture was based out of James chapter 1, the entire chapter, and was centered around temptation—so relevant for Mary and me. She was seeking help with her addiction and I with a recent conflict. During the final comments, Pastor Steve shared about resisting temptation by weighing everything; is it Jesus or Satan offering the desire placed before us? He admonished us to "assign a name and a face to our choices."

The Lord spoke to me and I looked down at my hand. "Write the name Satan on your pointer finger so when you go to pick up the temptation you will be forced to examine whether it is I, or the enemy offering it to you." His example was clear in my thoughts. I showed my finger, after I wrote Satan on it, to Mary and told her what I heard from the Lord.

I also shared what he wanted me to tell her. I took her by her shoulders, her small frame trembling. "Mary, this is for you too today. Please don't get angry, and I know you don't even know me, but I have to share what Jesus wants to convey to you. You must forgive yourself now, today. I'm not saying to stop attending the programs you have tried, but today, realize he loves you and forgave you a long time ago. Now go from here and simply stop drinking. I mean it, just stop." Oh, how I had that what-did-I-just-do feeling in my gut. But I also had the peace of being obedient when the Lord has me share something personal and impacting—something I would never do on my own.

Mary grabbed her pen. She took my hand and fixed it by adding "NO Satan. YES Jesus." Then she looked deeply into my teary eyes and said, "You are right. And I needed to hear that today." I gave her my phone number to call me if she needed someone to talk to.

http://backtochurch.com

You never know. You never know what a conversation with a stranger will bring. Talk to people. That's what National Back to Church Sunday is all about. I can certainly talk and I'm not shy—but I'm also a good listener. And Mary knew I was interested in her. Reveal your heart to someone new in your church. Invite a neighbor or someone you don't think will respond. You never know.

And if you live in the greater Spokane and Coeur d'Alene area, check out New Life Church's Back to Church Sunday concert on Saturday, September 17th:

http://www.nlaspokane.org/small-group-kick-off

Beatles Tribute Band Coming to Spokane - The Beatles’ music, reinvigorated by the Kirkland-based tribute band Creme Tangerine, will be presented in a free concert at New Life Church in the Spokane Valley.

Creme Tangerine doesn't try to dress or do their hair like the Beatles. Instead, the group seeks to be “a really good rock band with Beatles material”. The point here is to deliver nonstop favorite songs so the people can forget their worries for a night.

The Concert is Free!
Bring a Lawn Chair, kick off your shoes, and have a great time!

With a special Back to Church Sunday service on Sunday, September 18th at 10:00 AM and another Creme Tangerine concert at 1:00 PM. Click HERE for directions to New Life Church.

You Never Know.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

CHATTERBOX!

2011-08-18T13:42:00.000-07:00

Thursday
8-18-2011

I'm jittery, talkative, shaky, and nervous. And I found out yesterday that the levels of Prograf, an anti-rejection medicine I take, are dangerously high, causing my hyper state. High enough to be poisoning me and damaging my kidneys. I've been healthy since my pancreas transplant three months ago, but as they say in the transplant world, "You trade one set of problems for another--but you're alive. "The one anti-rejection medicine that can add five years to your life can also be very volatile and poisonous. It has to be checked often. The doctor will make adjustments and things will settle down.

But when this happens and I don't realize it, I can be more hyper and talkative than usual. And I am already ... hyper and talkative. But I'm happy. I love life. I'm interested in everything and I love to discuss matters and make people laugh. That's who I am.

"By the grace of God, I am what I am." (1 Corinthians 15:10 NIV1984)

Paul the apostle said it plainly; I am what I am. And I love that man!

In second grade, I was reprimanded for talking in class and made to face the corner with a dunce cap on. It was art period--my absolutely favorite period. And I was devastated. I'll never forget the shame, but more painful was the first sting of "you're not good enough" treatment. And many other people would add to my life-long ostracization from being too talkative.

Why do we pick on people so badly about who and what they are? Would we wield insults at a quiet person as easily as a loud, talkative one? When we do this, none of us really know what that person lives with or whether they, too, deal with medicine issues. Or, maybe their simply happy.

One of my memories was a train ride into New York City with my sisters. We lived on Long Island and were going to a show in the city. I was thrilled--so exited, and talkative. Once again the ticket taker on the train named me, CHATTERBOX and the fun of it convinced everyone I was bound to always be a nuisance.

I sometimes laugh and tell people I have a motor-mouth. But inside it hurts bad. I don't talk a lot to get attention and I don't need to be the star of life, I'm just who I am. The hurt from constant pickings at my persona will never go away. Even after my pancreas transplant three months ago I was targeted. My after-surgery psych eval noted, "Patient is in a good mood. Happy to be off insulin. Still very hyper."

I was happy. And blessed. Shoot me.

So from here on in, stop making fun of my hyper-happy self. And stop making fun of anyone and who they may be--period.

I am what I am. And I don't want to change. And God wants me to be who I am, too.

If you're a transplant patient, learn more about Prograf by clicking the logo to the left.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

A Promise Is A Promise!

2011-08-05T16:03:00.000-07:00

Friday
8-5-2011

Okay, I'm back. I brought my previous blog to critique group last night and there were great suggestions for me to take and correct. I will when I add these stories to book three, (http://www.AHeartLikeMine.com) but for now, a blog is a blog...

And a promise is a promise. Right? Not in Chicago last week.

I'm really trying to look happy ... really, I am.

After I got dried up and changed and had some lunch, I headed back out to go to my 1:15 PM appointment. I dressed in cooler clothes, had water with me, and stuffed my food logs for the dietician in my purse. I was glad to have time to see everyone and get some questions answered. Better diet to lose more weight? What over the counter meds should I avoid? Can I proceed with different exercise now? What other precautions should I take? Who do I contact to send a letter to my donor family? (Very important and sensitive question.)

I stuck with the bus and arrived at the clinic early. I had my mini laptop with me so I could go over changes for book two while I waited. Once I checked in, I sat in the lobby and was ready for a long delay.

But a nurse called me within five minutes. Wow, that's like, really fast. Oh well, more time to ask questions. I made my way to the hallway leading to the exam rooms. The nurse checking me in weighed me and took my blood pressure and temperature. All was well and I told her I was feeling great. I don't even know who she was. She may have been a post transplant nurse, but she was non-expressive.

I entered the exam room and instead of the surgeon who made me PROMISE to be back in six weeks, another doctor came in. She was tired looking and seemed preoccupied with other issues.

"Where's Dr. Olsen?" I asked.

"He's out of town for another three weeks." She answered as she glanced over my lab results. I sat there shocked.

"But Dr. Olsen made me promise to be here today to see him in particular. I guess seeing you is fine. As long as I was doing good, I don't have to come back for another three or six months." I hardly cared about seeing her, but I was disappointed as I did have some very specific questions for the surgeon.

"Oh, you will have to come back here in three weeks when Dr. Olsen is here. After all, you made a deal with him and you have to hold up to your end of the bargain." She was not interested in how far I traveled and how much money it cost me to be there.

"I'm not coming back in three weeks. I'm here today. I saw you. That has to be good enough."

"Oh no it's not," she reiterated. You made a promise to see the doctor.

"I know, and I'm here now." This became a debate and competition to see who would get the last word in. There was no longer any concern about the issue I had with sharp pain weeks before, my anti-rejection levels, lab work, questions I had for some of the staff. This was a test of wills.

We went back and forth a few times. I gave up on seeing any after-care nurses. There were none around and no one even asked me if I had any concerns. I eventually got into a tug-of-war with the doctor about how long before I came back and she finally agreed to let me schedule September 21. I wanted to wait until October even if I agreed to return. She tried for the beginning of September.

"Well this wasn't a fair deal," I complained.

"I met you half way," she insisted. And after all, you promised to come back.

When I confirmed the appointment with the scheduler, she said, "I'll make the appointment for September 21, but we don't really know if the doctor will be here on that day."

I grabbed my paperwork and walked out of the office, defeated. I'm not coming back in September. This is out of control. I walked to the back of the hospital campus to catch the bus to the apartment. An older, foreign speaking man tried to peddle some gold jewelry on me.

"I ain't got no money for you. And I don't want no jewelry. Do you think I'd be waiting for the bus if I had money to give you?" He walked to the next person with his hand open. I was foul. I was not in the mood. The disorganized mess from the transplant clinic staff, the doctor insisting I simply return in three weeks, the oppressive heat and humidity, and the constant harassment of city peddlers, caused me to disdain anything in my path.

I had some salad for dinner, called my husband and vented, and tried to sleep so I could be ready for the trip home in the morning. Even that was a disaster. Storms delayed flights and the roof at the airport was leaking badly so that there were basins everywhere you walked. It was a zoo.

Yes, I made it home safely. No, the trip was not productive. Yes, I was aggravated. But I had to let it go. I will not allow the frustration to fester. I will cancel my appointment until this mess gets straightened out. I hope it does.

Author's note: This post is a bummer. A good sign to get off the Chicago topic. 8^) I am doing great and will put this saga to bed.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Soggy in Chicago

2011-07-27T20:28:00.000-07:00

Way cool light show through
the O'Hare Airport Tunnel.

Wednesday
7-27-2011

Okay, so after a while, I'm going to have to take a break from these Chicago posts. Well, actually, I don't plan on going back unless some things change with the transplant clinic. Oh, I want it known and understood that I absolutely, unequivocally, love and appreciate and love the surgeons who gave me a chance to live free of diabetes and extend my life. They ROCK!

But at the appointment I had on June 10th, a day before I left to come home to Spokane, Washington, I was made to promise cooperation with the requirements set forth by the head surgeon in order to release me to go home. I did.

So on Thursday, July 21st, I traveled out to Chicago, saved money by taking the train from O'Hare to the city, (of which the air conditioning was broken and we were all dying of heat stroke) messed up my connection, and was left at Wall and Randolf St., two miles from the apartment I was staying at. And ... the temperature was 99 with a heat index of 115 degrees.

I was in travel clothes which included my jeans, had a heavy backpack to tow, and once again luggage to pull. I can do this. The exercise will be good after being on a plane. So here I was, roaming the streets of Chicago lugging luggage--again.

After the first mile, I was sweating so bad the water dripping from my face and hair blurred the GPS on my phone. I had to keep stopping to wipe the sweat from my glasses. I came upon a Baskin and Robbins and stopped for a scoop of ice cream and a respite in air-conditioning. I can't make the other mile. What to do now?

My watch displayed 4:50 PM. I called Lenee--the angel a couple of posts back. "It's perfect timing," she announced. I get off work in a few minutes and pick you up and bring you to the apartment. But I can't stay--have to get my daughter to soccer practice."

"That's fine with me. I'll wait on the corner."

Sweaty, armed with a backpack and suitcase, and dressed inclemently in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, I leaned on the corner pole. I'm pathetic.

Lenee arrived and dropped me off. I took a shower and changed into fresh clothes to settle down for the night. The complex had dinner to purchase from area restaurants that came on Tuesday and Thursday. I got pot roast and veges and called John to let him know all was well.

Again I appreciated a free place to stay, but this time was really tough. The apartment brought back scenes of lonely days and nights, the couch a reminder of how many days post surgery I laid on it weak and sick, and the memory of paramedics collecting me onto a stretcher when I had semi-passed out from a 104.5 fever. No worries--only a few days to stay here. I didn't fall asleep until 3:00 AM.

Friday morning, I got up early and had to catch the bus at 8:20 AM. I was exhausted but had to go get blood work for the afternoon appointment. I took the train back so I could stop at Starbucks and get an ice coffee--a large ice coffee. The train conductor announced there was a dangerous storm moving in with hail and dangerous lightening.

We arrived at the Clinton St. Station and I made my way down the gray, dirty steps to the street. I saw the storm getting close but figured I had time to get coffee and walk the four blocks to the apartment. Not. I waited on a short line and by the time I was handed my Venti, Iced Latte, 2% Milk, SF Vanilla, the storm had arrived.

A few buildings shielded me for a while but then the fierce rain pounded my unprotected self. I watched people's umbrellas fly away and did my best to run for the building. Once inside, the extreme air conditioning froze my clothing creating a pocket of cold air between my shirt and me. "I would have made it if I hadn't stopped for Starbucks," I joked out loud to the people standing in the lobby. No one looked at me or smiled. Such fuddy duds.

When I got up to the apartment, I laid my clothes on chairs to dry and took another shower. I had a few hours before leaving for my 1:15 PM appointment.

Next post: Oh why, Oh why, did I fly to the city, oh why, oh why, did I go?

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Pulling a New York Look

2011-07-21T03:00:00.000-07:00

Thursday
7-21-2011

After my testing the first day, I had to find another hotel. The Marriott was not a friendly place--price wise. A couple I had met at a Christian writer's conference a while back, had offered to help me and give me a place to stay. They did live more than an hour south of the city, but I called them that first day and they said they could come get me by 4:00 PM-ish.

When it was 4:00, I called them to check on where to meet and was disappointed to find out they changed their mind at the last minute. Oh wow...now what?

This left me with only a few hours to find a hotel at the last minute again. President Obama was still in town. (I think he owes me $100.00 which was the extra charge for the Marriott!) The social services department tried to help me, but the hotels were all expensive. I was left with the housing I rejected the first dark, night, in the dreaded ghetto.

So I booked it for the next three days and trudged to the apartment building with my luggage. I followed my phone's GPS but found myself on an abandoned street in front of the old Cook County Hospital. It's walls were cracked and aged and it's appearance scary like an old murder film. I was cautious and kept looking around me. I saw one guy but didn't want to ask him directions; I looked like a tourist and it was dangerous to let on I was vulnerable. I know--I grew up in New York.

I found the building and recognized it from the night before. I had keys this time and after navigating the entrance, took the squeaky, smelly elevator to the third floor. At least I'm safe and can open the windows on the third floor.

Hangin' in the Hood

Once in, the room was clean but barren. The building was old and neighborhood right next to a country prison and the freeway with many abandoned buildings. My footsteps on the tile floor echoed until I opened the window to let some air in. The noise was deafening: sirens, traffic, honking, people yelling, fire trucks, ambulances...non-stop day and night. I kept the windows shut.

There was no where to walk to and get take-out food or groceries. I had some protein bars and the only thing in the snack machine on the ground floor was chips and cookies. Dinner that night was not fit for a diabetic trying to get a pancreas transplant.

The intersection across from the apartment

I was there three days and nights, keeping a chair wedged under the door knob whenever I was in the room with the door locked. Oh, I made it okay. But the environment was not healthy nor safe as I found out on day two.

After my testing on the second day, I found out there was a hospital a mile down the street with a cafeteria. I walked down to see if I could get a salad and some protein for dinner. I got an awesome salad and sadly, the only protein was typically gross hospital meatloaf. But it was better than chips and cookies.

While walking back, a man jumped out from an indented doorway and went to grab me. "Hey sweet sister. What ya' got for me?" And he didn't mean my salad and meatloaf. Two things saved me--A protective angel from God and my New York attitude.

I turned and looked at him with the most threatening New York look I could. And not the fake kind you imitate in the mirror. This look was, "I'm not in the mood and don't mess with me." And it worked. He backed off into his pitiful doorway hiding place and waited for the next victim.

Here's the doorway. The faces
have been blurred to protect the innocent (?)...

I walked the short distance to my apartment, face contorted with anger, and locked myself in my room. The salad was great but the meatloaf ended up in the garbage.

I vowed not to stay in that apartment again. Especially after I learned that POP, POP, POP were gun shots from gang battles nearby!

The next time I was in Chicago for the wait for a pancreas, a taxi cab drove me to my new residence in the city after I was kicked out of an assisted living home and had gone from hotel to hotel. (More later!) I watch the driver's route on my phone's GPS to be sure he's not taking me for a ride. Great to have technology.

When he didn't get off the right exit I started to panic a bit."Why did you pass the exit?"

"Oh, that exit," he pointed to. "I know another way around it. I'm a white cab driver in a white taxi. I don't drive through that neighborhood."

"That's where I stayed last time."

"And you're alive to tell it?"

I sat back against the vinyl seat, a bit disturbed but proud to have survived!

(Since then, everyone I talk to in Chicago is amazed I stayed there! Ha...they don't know the power of a crazed New York Italian!)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Stories from the Ghetto, Urrr...I mean City

2011-07-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

Weds.
7-13-2011

It's such a pretty city...

Chicago was, well, an interesting city. When I traveled out there in April to have pancreas pre-transplant testing, the hospital provided a housing assistant to help me find affordable "housing." Their motives were sincere--their evaluation of someone like me staying somewhere like that was far from sane. And I had no idea what I was getting into.

The instructions for where to go were vague and I had never been downtown alone. While on the plane, I was thrilled to have WIFI for a sale rate of $5.00 for the flight. A sweet, dear friend from Arizona has a niece in the Chicago area and connected me to her on Facebook. Because I hooked up with her from the plane, we were able to exchange phone numbers and with short notice, she offered to pick me up from the airport and take me to the apartment complex. Thank GOD!

It was 9:30 PM and I was so grateful Lenee was willing to get me. It was out of her way to give me a ride. She had a picture of herself on Facebook and when I reached the luggage area I recognized her. I wanted her to just wait at the curb, which was easier, but she insisted on parking and coming in to get me.

What an amazing woman!

Once she drove me to the location of the "medical district housing," we both realized the area was part of a "ghetto" area in south Chicago. Not to call any area a ghetto, but it was not the right place for a short, stubby, white, Italian woman.

We drove front to back and couldn't figure out how to get in. I finally bypassed a resident coming out of the gated, iron, tall-fenced-with-sharp-pointy-tops, entrance area. I made my way inside, past an old guy sitting up against the wall smoking a but, and found a security guard--on his cell phone behind the counter, crouched down on the floor. I guess he wanted privacy.

"Oh no, ma'am, I ain't got no key." He fumbled to flip shut his cell phone.

"But I was told to come here and check in to room 314."

"I know nothin' about no key or no checkin' and the manager only works in the morning." He stood tall now, wanting to look like he was securing the premises.

I was glad Lenee insisted she wait until I got in. I walked to her car.

"I can't get the security guard to tell me what to do--he has no idea. And I don't like the looks of this place. I think I'd better find a hotel if you don't mind giving me a ride to one." Lenee and I both searched our cell phones for local hotels.

"Good thing I stayed," she assured me. "This is a bad part of town. You can't stay here."

Chicago. Now 10:00 PM on a Tuesday. President Obama was in town and so was the entire world--there was no room at the Inn for me. The only hotel with one room left was a Marriott. Lenee gave me a ride over and I assured her I would be okay. Because President Obama was in town and it was the last room, the Marriot charged me $279.00 for the night, before taxes and fees! BIG OUCH! But I had no other choice.

"I have something for you," she approached me with a gold, shiny box. "I was going to give this to a friend, but I knew I was supposed to give it to you tonight. I looked at the beautiful necklace and the words written on each charm: Faith, Hope, and Love.

We hugged tight and in less than an hour, I had a friend for life and an ANGEL to be with me in Chicago. Lenee saved my life that night. Could you see me lugging my backpack and carry on, late at night, in the well-known ghettos of Chicago? I don't think so.

So the cheap wireless on the flight, a dear friend from 20+ years ago in Arizona, her amazing niece, Facebook, cell phones with GPS, and God's protection, all worked out. 8^)

Never underestimate God or his angels!

Lenee - My Angel!

Tomorrow--the continued story as I find myself back at the ghetto for the next three days and find myself dodging an all out attack!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

A Heart Like Mine - Six Year Anniversary Today

2011-07-14T14:12:00.000-07:00

July 13, 2005 - Dr. Icenogle: "You need a heart today but it will be 9 months to a year before we get you one. And you don't have that long."

July 14, 2005 - Dr. Icenogle: "Sign on the dotted line." Me: "For what?" Dr. Icenogle: "You want a heart don't you?"

Six years ago today, I received a life saving--major life saving heart transplant from my angelic donor, Danielle. The story is so amazing and unbelievable. All transplants are miracles, but this on was so beyond medical standards that anyone looking from the outside can tell something very special happened.

Excerpt about Danielle from book one, A Heart Like Mine:

When Danielle was five years old, her dad was killed in a motorcycle accident, leaving Charlotte to raise three children on her own. They often had to visit the local food bank to get help with the family’s needs. Danielle was so touched by the acts of kindness, she insisted to her mom that when she grew up she would “help others like they were helping them.” As she grew, she did just that—gave whatever she had if someone she saw needed it. She gave away her coat to a friend and came home in the cold rain without it, her shoes were donated to a friend in need as she walked home barefoot, her lunch was often offered to another classmate who had nothing, and she always asked for extra snacks to hand out to those less fortunate.

As she got older, Danielle explained to her mom that she felt like she was put on the earth to give to those who were in need of help. When she got her driver’s license, she decided to become an organ donor. “Mom, if something were to happen to me,” she said, “why would I want my organs to be buried when someone’s life could be saved or helped by me being a donor?”

No one likes to talk about a subject as sensitive as dying, but it was important to Danielle that her family knew her wishes. Then the tragic day came when, as Charlotte put it, “I lost something very dear to me—my little princess.”

Danielle was an epileptic and had a seizure one day that caused her to slip and fall in the shower. She suffered a concussion and also hit her neck, cutting off blood flow to her brain from her carotid arteries in her neck. After three days in the hospital, all hope was lost that she ever would come back. When Charlotte was notified that the hospital called a code blue on Danielle, the code for eminent death, she was distraught. “Why God?” she asked. “Why are You doing this? Take me instead of her.”

Danielle’s brothers and the rest of her family all struggled with their loss. But Charlotte knew God had a purpose on earth for her daughter—her “princess.” She also knew that if Danielle’s organs had not been donated, there would have been no purpose to her death.

The holidays were always difficult for Charlotte, but after we talked for a few months, she agreed to meet my family and me on Easter weekend—almost three years after losing Danielle. It was an emotional and powerful meeting for both of us, Charlotte finding closure and me getting to know about the person whose heart was keeping me alive.

Charlotte said something only someone so close to the Lord could comprehend: “After getting to know you,” she explained through tears of relief, “I now know that my daughter’s purpose on earth was to be here so when you needed a new heart, she could give you hers.”

How could a mom say something like that after losing her daughter? Danielle was a Christian, and she demonstrated it by her giving and loving lifestyle. And Danielle is still who she is, and I am who I am, but part of me has a piece of Danielle that God holds in high esteem—her heart. I cannot be who I am without Danielle’s heart keeping me alive. “But by the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Cor. 15:10). This verse is clipped onto the bulletin board in my kitchen, reminding me quite often of who I am in God’s eyes. No matter what I do wrong, whatever pain I suffer, whatever failures I despair over, I am exactly who God made me to be. And it was His plan that Danielle’s life would become part of mine.

I now have an extended family to which I am very connected. Besides the physical connection, there is an emotional connection and a spiritual connection.

This blog isn't a sales pitch. I know the story is about me--but not really just me. So many people and lives have been changed. I was at the doctor today and every time someone new hears my story, they are amazed and blown away at what has happened. Yet I sit here typing, feeling great, and living life!

The story is BIG. If you haven't purchased my first book in the Heart Like Mine Trilogy, you can purchase it from my website, online retailers, or my publisher. The E-book is on sale for $5.99 in preparation for book two being published soon.

My site: http://www.cindyscinto.com/A_Heart_Like_Mine_Order_info.html
Publisher: https://www.winepressbooks.com/product.asp?pid=2751
E-book: On Sale: $5.99: https://www.winepressbooks.com/product.asp?pid=3062&search=&select=&ss=1&pi=1

Pre-Order book two: https://www.winepressbooks.com/heart

Danielle, my angel on earth.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - No Mo'

2011-07-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

Thursday
6-23-2011

So everyone noticed that Day Ten of Freedom was my last post for quite a while. The next day, I ended up with John in a Chicago taxi at 1:30 AM on my way to the ER with a high fever of 103. I spent five more days in the hospital with everyone trying to figure out what was wrong with me. It was just this mysterious fever that comes sometimes after a pancreas alone transplant. I was sent home on a Saturday since all they were doing was giving me fluid and Tylenol.

Sunday morning, the very next morning, I woke up with a fever of 104.5 Walked out to the kitchen to tell John he needed to get me to the ER and passed out. John had to call 911. I was in another four days before getting discharged. We took the train home and as we walked back to the apartment, I had to stop and hug every other tree!

There is so much more to tell. I've been home in Spokane an entire 4 weeks today and tomorrow will be only 8 weeks since the transplant. I'm finally, for 2 days now, able to stand and move without wanting to pass out. So much to tell. I'm going to start posting again.

For now, I had a great weekend this past July 9-10. Here's some pics. 8^)


A relaxing swim!


Finally--sunshine!


Resort style dinner outside on deck: corn crusted Tilapia, vegetables from the market cooked Mediterranean style, fresh cantaloupe, and Timothy's decaf coffee.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Ten of Freedom

2011-05-23T20:33:00.000-07:00

Tuesday
5-24-2011

Got a phone call from the transplant clinic late yesterday. Seems like there was a communication error and they wanted me to have blood work on Monday. Will have to go this monring. Then I have more labs on Thursday and see the doctor on Friday. I dread the lab--so crowded and hot and stuffy and long waits...but must do. Hope all labs are good. There are tests that can tell if I'm still dehydrated. I keep wondering if my magnesium level is low or some of the hard core antibiotics Im on are zapping me. Only two more days on those.

This is my view from the couch. Finally sunny today.
I like to watch the Citi light at night.
Comes on at 8 and goes off at 11.

I have such a kink on the right side of my neck. Could be low magnesium or just the way I had to lay in hospital. John doing some massage and I keep putting a hot pack on.

Well, more later!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Nine of Freedom

2011-05-23T20:22:00.000-07:00

Monday
May 23, 2011

John and I had an AWESOME 29th anniversary today. We took the bus north and had a great dinner at Chilis, shopped at my all time favorite store, Trader Joe's, and we were going to close the day with a dollar McDonalds hot fudge Sunday but were too full. Maybe on Tuesday. Great anniversary!

Both of us want to go home so badly. But I've got at least two more weeks maybe three. The only problem I'm having right now is very low blood pressure. I'm eating good and drinking a lot of water and even protein drinks. Praying it wont be bad enough to re-admit me to the hospital. That would freak me out.

So I am CLAIMING that tomorrow, Tuesday, my blood pressure will ne back up to normal! I do not want anything to stop me from getting better enough to go home.

Anyway, here are some pics from today. And been keeping in touch with our son, Jonathan. He's taking care of things back home. John has been a trooper too. He's antsy to get home. 8^)

At Chili's

My amazing husband!

Oh the joy - Trader Joe's!

A very special 29th anniversary!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Days Seven and Eight of Freedom

2011-05-22T20:42:00.000-07:00

Sunday Night
5-22-2011

This weekend was a bit slow going for John and I. Bad weather and I really had to get some strength back. We walked to a few places, watched movies, and checked in at home with our son, Jonathan.

John and I married 15 years, Jackson 1 year,
and our son, Jonathan was 7.

Monday will be more productive. John has an office here in one of the Post Offices to work at and I will actually do my laundry tomorrow. Then...

It's our 29th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY! Monday, May 23, 2011 is 29 years since we got married. John got the raw deal when he promised "in sickness and health." But he has honored and protected me and been the most amazing husband.

We will probably try to find somewhere to take the bus or train or walk to for dinner. I hear the zoo is FREE so we may try to go there. He has to work half the day.

I finally feel better tonight so I guess the tons of water and better amount of food has helped me get strength back.

Storming tonight and there is a tornado watch. Looks cool to watch the lightning from the 38th floor window.

More on Monday. Pics to come! Nite Nite!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Six of Freedom

2011-05-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

Friday
5-20-2011

Today was appointment day. It was tough. I had become very dehydrated and didn't realize it. Anemic after six days of no food before I could eat. So I was weak and dizzy. Labs were at ten. We took the bus over and the driver was so erratic. Abrupt stops and fast take offs and we were sitting side ways. Two old guys got into a fight. By time we got off our stop, we were so happy to be free.

The lab is not quite the best experience. Always crowded, screaming kids, had to wear my face mask, it was hot and stuffy, and we had to wait quite a while. Once that was over, I thought I couldn't even walk. We went to the cafeteria in the hospital and I got an authentic Chicago hot dog--another okay experience. I favor the NY dirty water dogs! I drank as much as I could but was way down on fluid.

We had two and half hours to kill so John and I walked to a shopping center. But it got to me and we had to make our way back slowly, stopping for me to rest.

We got to the clinic early at 1:00 PM and my appointment was at 1:45. There was an LED TV mounted on the wall with a soap opera on and the volume was SO LOUD--so excruciating loud, it was like torture--like someone tying you to a chair and forcing you to watch the show you hate the worst for hours.

Then, for reasons unknown, EVERYONE got called before me even though John and I were the first ones in the waiting room and first to sign in. And the nurses in the office were in very bad moods so making a comment or complaint would do me in for ever. That seems wrong doesn't it? But John and I have been in dozens of medical facilities. There are times you know the people in charge can make your life miserable and get away with it--over and over. This was one such office.

So the waiting commenced and the blaring TV pounded at our heads. Two and a half hours later, I got called but only to weigh me and do vitals. "Go out and take a seat."

I plopped into the plastic chair once more. At least the soap operas were done for the day and the news was on. Hallelujah.

Then I got called again, finally. The doctor was pleased but I was way too dehydrated and anemic. Had to drink more and start eating more. "When can I go home?"

"Not for two or three weeks. We like to keep people at least four weeks to be sure there is no rejection. I'll see you next Friday. Have labs on Thursday."

I understood his assessment. He's absolutely right to keep me until I am stable.

We headed for the train and made our way back downtown. Stopped at The French Market to get some high quality organic ground beef and cheese to make burgers for dinner--no bread. John and I split one scoop of Espresso Gelato and I had an Irish Cream truffle. It was a good ending to the day.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Five of Freedom

2011-05-22T13:05:00.000-07:00

Thursday
5-19-2011

Weather hasn't been very good here but today is finally sunny. Chilly but sunny. John took me walking downtown Chicago. I wanted to try Chicago Pizza. Have to say, it was okay, but we're used to NY pizza. So we walked down to Giordano's, grabbed a seat at the bar, and ordered a Caprice salad and small thin crust pizza--cheese only. It was a great dinner.

Look how weird--John moved the camera and it slanted the pic!

Then we followed the canal back toward the apartment, took some pics, enjoyed the sights, and the freedom of us being together without me getting sick. I have gone from 24 pills a day to 36, but that will come down a bit in time.

What a feeling to leave to go somewhere, walk about, tour sights, and not have to drag insulin pump supplies, worry if I have candy in case I go low, do I have pump backup supplies and glucogon. We had an awesome day and I walked ONE AND A HALF MILES at a good pace!

What a great day!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Four of Freedom

2011-05-22T12:56:00.000-07:00

Weds.
5-18-2011

Being discharged today. ONLY five days after a pancreas transplant. Unheard of! But the docs see no reason to keep me. Yahooooo.....

We waited out front of the hospital to get a cab. But after a half an hour, I said, "Let's just take the train. I'm fine." That we did. And I slept happily ever after that first night!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Three of Freedom

2011-05-22T12:49:00.000-07:00

Tuesday
5-17-2011

The docs are blown away. I'm eating solid food and was doing well enough to get discharged back to our temporary apartment today. But my fever spiked a bit. Seems like the central line in my neck was wanting to get infected. So I bought myself a full day of IV antibiotics.Having some electrolyte imbalance too. Giving me magnesium.

So I walk the halls and follow the protocol treatments. Funny, I'm walking so fast and doing so good that I'm the hot topic on the floor. Even visitors pass me and say, "Hey, you're the one who walks so fast and is recovering like no pancreas transplant before!"

I do have my friends joining me: My Heartman, Dr. Gumby, Biker Gumby, and Policeman Gumby. They join me for all walks.

Dr. Gumby fell off one time so now he holds on real tight.

Mr. Heartman and Biker Gumby are a bit more adventurous!

Policeman Gumby likes to be on top so he can patrol the area.

And, there have only been 10 pancreas transplants done on a person with a previous heart transplant years before in the past 20 years and actually ever in the US. I retrieved the data from UNOS--United Network of Organ Sharing. So I'm only number 11. Now I need to find out how long each person lived and how they did. Diabetics just don't live long enough to survive a pancreas transplant. These docs here at UIC have never done this before.

Speaking of UIC--the care here is simply amazing. The docs talented, personable, caring, and love to help people. ALL the nurses and other people like the pharmacists, aides, food people, maintenance people, everyone--have been fantastic.

And then there is my husband, John. He caught a flight Thursday night and got here at midnight. He never left my side, creating a makeshift bed out of two chairs. He's the best ever husband. I'm not sure I could be as faithful and long suffering as him. Thank you, honey.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Two of Freedom

2011-05-22T12:34:00.000-07:00

Monday
5-16-2011

Making great strides. Nose tube out. Liquid diet. Oh, God help me. Why do hospitals serve GREEN jello? I took a few pics. Still not needing pain meds. Prayer and the power of the mind. I have faith in a God much bigger than me and my miniscule health issues. Others in this world are suffering far worse than me right now. I am blessed to have this opportunity to live longer!

So no more diabetes. I feel stable--balanced. I feel free to live although I still suffer with a heart transplant, cancer, skin cancer, and all the other issues. BUT I have a new chance to live much longer than expected.

Average stay in this ICU unit after a pancreas transplant is 7-10 days. I'm bucking to get out soon. 8^)

Oh, and how cool. I'm staying alongside the Walter Payton Liver center. We talk about hm often during Donate Life Today! presentations. Football player extraordinaire, he could not receive a liver transplant in time. Money and fame DO NOT put you ahead of other people. His generosity is helping many in need of a liver transplant.

Are you signed up to be an organ donor? 18 people die each day waiting for an organ transplant. There are more than 110,000 people on the list. NO myths you have heard are true. Check out http://www.dontatelife.org for information.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day One of Freedom

2011-05-15T21:42:00.000-07:00

The new countdown begins. I received my life saving pancreas transplant on May 12, 2011. Thursday afternoon. Things are fantastic. I'm doing great. Now my posts will update my progress and count UP to go home.

UPDATE: 5-22-2011 - This was posted Sunday, only two days after being in ICU. The first day awake, Friday, was the hardest. I found myself tied down with arm restraints. I was okay with it once the nurses explained some people actually toss around and try to pull out the ventilator and nose tubing. But it was hard.

And nothing is as difficult as being awake with a breathing tube and nose feeding tube in. Pain, choking, nauseous, feeling like a truck ran me over...but I made it. And when I posted the fist few lines above from my iPhone, I was actually disconnected from the ventilator, still have the feeding tube in, but was up and walking.

I only took pain medicine the first day to ease the anxiety of having tubes down my throat and nose, but then only took ES Tylenol and been on it since. NO PAIN MEDS! Pancreatic surgery is on of the most painful I was told. But I believe in moving, getting up, being alert, and not depending on pain meds so your body can start to heal and your mind can work on positive steps forward!

More updates to continue now that I'm back up and running!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Twenty

2011-05-11T00:09:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 187

Wednesday
5-11-2011
1:30 AM

UPDATE: 1:10 PM. Heading to take a shower. Then to the hospital as quickly as possible. Surgery should be around 9 PM tonight.

----------------------------------------------
I'm doing my all night working thing. Good thing. I just got the CALL! There are two possible pancreas donors. I will know over the next 8-10 hours.

Ode to the Pancreas...

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Nineteen

2011-05-09T22:22:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 186

Tuesday
5-10-2011

12:05 AM
It's officially Tuesday high up in my glass enclosed living room. I keep trying to go to sleep early but can't. My mind is officially on overload. Bad habits I have developed.

Yesterday's post was so serious. I remained uninspired the rest of the day. Worked on an editing job, organized, made phone calls for a prescription lost from Walgreens, letter to take care of for fund raising organization, still can't get my Mother's Day card from my son because there's confusion with the mail. So so so...not the hospital or management's fault--patients just don't stay long in this apartment and the mail carrier doesn't know yet I'm here for the duration.

http://www.pjsministry.org
Rev. Dr. Billy Bonthius

Cindy and Christine.
Just two crazy girls in the rainy
town of Maple Valley, Washington

My sweetest friend, Billy, is providing the funds for a great friend to fly out here like around June 7th. Christine will be a great comfort--she's like a sister from home. And we can have some girl time. I'll be recuperating and it will be great to have a friend to help if I get into trouble. She'll be able to stay until I leave. Flying here--no car--so she'll ride the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) with me unless it's a day where Lenee pick's us up.

Thank you, Lenee. I love ya gal!

Well, that's all I have to say for now. I'm lost for content. Scared I may be wandering into mindless bliss--like when you get numb from the constant pressure.

Maybe I just need some sleep.

Even though it's today, I'm hitting the bed to get rest. I thought maybe after I take care of unfinished stuff in the morning I will go sight-see somewhere in the afternoon.

Maybe.

Maybe I'll have some awesome pics.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Eighteen

2011-05-09T15:01:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 185

Monday
5-9-2011

Monday, Monday... I'm singing, Monday, Monday...

Sunday was great. Not because it was Mother's Day--I was alone and away from my husband and son. It was great because the sun shone and I spent time with some wonderful people. It was great because I have a place to stay, groceries, my mini computer, a phone and cell service, plenty of sleeping options, a fantastic view, people who love me, and a doctor who is willing to give me a chance.

Without Dr. Oberholzer at the University of Illinois, I would not have an opportunity to be on this list for a pancreas transplant. He is the only surgeon willing to help me. Not getting a donor pancreas will leave me with a very short life span--really. He will join the list of people in my life who saved me from death. They are as follows:

Carole Fenkler - Seattle, Washington. She worked for the insurance company as my case manager. She did the research and found the program I qualified for to inject FGF-1 in my coronary artery. The FGF-1 grew another artery and collaterals that kept me alive. After I had the new artery, my main blood vessel blocked up 100% and I would have suffered a fatal heart attack. That new artery also kept me alive long enough to receive a heart transplant. If Carole had not taken the time to find this experimental program, I would surely be dead.

Dr. Thomas Stegman - Germany. He invented the FGF-1 that without, I would surely be dead.

Don Harter - Wenatchee, Washington. Because of his generous help, my surgeon, his team, and his equipment, were flown by Leer Jet to the hospital where my donor was. He only had three hours to get there and repair her heart. Then they were all flown back, escorting the donor heart, in the same Leer Jet. Without Don's help, I would surely be dead.

Dr. Icenogle and Dr. Sandler - Spokane, Washington. They performed this heart transplant on July 14, 2005 even though it was doubtful I would live. Diabetics rarely get approved for a heart transplant. Dr. Icenogle literally saved my life two times as I was in critical condition before the transplant and after a double bypass surgery. Without their diligence and dedication, I would surely be dead.

Danielle Martinez - Olympia, Washington. She is my heart donor. Her heart beats in my chest. Without her kind nature, giving disposition, and care for others, I would surely be dead.

I can't type all the people here that made my life possible. I wish I could. You're all part of my miraculous survival. The five above are the ones that directly affected my life. But there are so many more. Dr. Canaday knows how many times he saved me from death with unheard of interventions. The ER staff when I coded two times. Ambulance drivers. My husband My son. So many more...

I'll be back later today. Let's see what I can find to do today.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Seventeen

2011-05-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 184

Sunday
5-8-2011

I'm not sure I like the titles to these blogs... Cindy in Chicago - Day One, Day Eight, Day What? Ouch. I have to find the blog from Julie and Julia. Did she do this count up type of thing? Or did she count down the recipes?

I'm kind of getting into a bad habit--staying up to crazy late, early the next day hours. I hate going to sleep. I don't feel satisfied that my day was productive enough. I don't feel like I'm home and yet I don't feel like I'm leaving anytime soon. I don't have a goal or a vision or a cut off date. I do have a better Interent connection at night. Hmmm...that's a good excuse. 8^)

Check out my favorite slippers. I already own a pair but they wore out to the soles. Haflingers from Germany and although these retail at $89 I get them off Ebay for $24 and no shipping. They are heaven for my feet. The color--well I could have picked blue or solid brown but love this orange pop-sickle look.

Maybe I'll call it a morning. Sleep in and come back to update again. I think I'll do a pancreas 101 blog soon. Lot's of people asking me what and how and why do I need a transplant. Be warned--the pictures you are about to see will be gruesome.

Pancreas pics another day. Being that today is Mother's Day and I'm all alone, I decided to make it "all about me." Hahahahaha. (Where are you Angie!)

Lenee picked me up with her three way cool awesome kids and they took me out to a 50's diner--Ed's. She knew I'd like it because all the employees are trained to be very mean to everyone. I SO LOVED IT! I want to get a job there. Like, "Hey, Lola, is that really a baby in your gut or a humongous tumor?" That was one of my come backs after she called me a retard. Oh I found my dream job!

So why about me? This amazing stylist in the city here cut and colored my hair. Oh, she did a superb job but I am sad I lost my wild, crazy look. It's a perfect surgery doo--easy to deal with. But everyone says I look cuter and younger. You let me know what you think. There are lot's of before pics and then a couple of after. Oh wow...

Speaking in Florida March 2011

Nose surgery Summer 2010

Winter 2010

Summer 2010

September 2010 Florida

Summer 2010 Church Picnic

Fall 2010 after nose surgery


Bryan Duncan and I Summer 2010

Winter 2011

These are after the cut...and color...

May 8, 2011
Even my nose looks big.
I don't see me as cute--I look old, worn out

Yucky Poo - I'm ugly now!

And the voting begins. But if you think the last two--my current state of hair, is the best, you really have to get new glasses. Your prescription is too old. Yeah, I know It will grow back. I will have high-low color again to reflect my whimsical personality. It has to be my surgery doo and cannot be done to me again.

Okay, I feel better now that I vented. Happy Mother's Day - Bah Humbug!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Sixteen

2011-05-07T06:51:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 183

Saturday
5-7-2011

Oh wow, like very much oh wow... My PeaPod order just arrived and I feel like it's some kind of Christmas or my birthday or something. I have groceries! Yes! You should have seen me ripping into the bags. Fruit, water, lemons, deli meat, Greek yogurt, Kettle chips, bla bla bla. I'm going to have Amy's organic brown rice cream of rice and a cup of Starbucks coffee for breakfast. Might even make some bacon.

Here's my delivery van--it's green--my favorite color!

More later today...after I see what today brings.

Later that day, things change for the foggiest.

But it's a bit difficult to see what today will bring--is this like "lake effect fog?" I watched it slither into the city and cover all that was below with its gray canopy. Reminded me of the original move--"The Fog."


Outside my window...

So I spent the day making phone calls and working. Walked downtown a bit again. Arranged my laundry and checked out the laundry room. Found a stack of books called the "Resident's Library" which is simply a ledge with scattered printed matter from cheesy romances to hardcover law journals. I chose a cheesy romance to take for bored time reading. I am outlining a five book fiction series and have not written much fiction. Figured I'd need to learn what fiction is to write it.

And I forgot to post these marvels of technology below. When I first saw them I thought they were like, "disabled chop sticks." But I was educated--they are "Cheater Chops." Some college engineering student's first year project I suppose. I'm just not into chop sticks. Want to be able to get that food in my mouth. Can't you tell?

Cheater Chops

Oh, this is before my very short hair cut.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Fifteen

2011-05-06T13:47:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 182

Friday
5-6-2011

I have lot's of pictures today. I know this post is late, but had lot's of calls last night and Skyped with my sister-in-law. Gave her a tour of the apartment!

I had to be down at the UI hospital by 10:15 AM for lab work. I planned a bus route and left early. Kind of cloudy and still cool today. But sun in the afternoon.

The bus was easy to figure out and I walked to join the others at the bus stop. No food or coffee--even though I was allowed to eat with this blood work, I figured it was better not to. Boarded at my stop and we had only went a quarter of a mile when I got off thinking it was the wrong bus. It was the one I wanted, but in a closed in bus with people coughing and a sick baby, I decided to get off and walk.

Armed with water, my hiking bag in place of a purse that wouldn't be practical, and my NEW Keds my mom sent me, I took the trek to Taylor Street. It was a good hike and I used my iPhone to keep an eye on my location. I arrived at the transplant building as an ambulance sped past blasting the familiar siren. The loudness and rumbling tires made me look to my left. There I saw two woman standing by their car embracing tightly. It made me pause and walk slower. They lingered--not noticing anything around them, crying and holding each other.

Someone must have died.

My head spun with the possibility their loved one was a donor. Oh my God, what is wrong with me? How can I think of myself when they may have lost someone? I was sick over my reaction and disgusted with myself. But if they did lose someone and the person was a donor, they will find comfort much later when they learn of the many people who were helped.

I studied their faces. I wanted to remember them so if I did receive a donated pancreas, and it could be their loved one, I want to remember their sadness and hopefully turn it into joy.

This is what it's like when you're waiting for an organ donor that is needed to either save your life or prolong it. When I received my heart transplant on July 14, 2005, it was to save my waning life. Want to know more? Use the links to the top right to order my first book, A Heart Like Mine, or pre-order the second book, A Heart Like Yours.

So I continued to the lab and after blood work got a salad and some eggplant parmigiana in the cafeteria.I studied the routes on my iPhone and found a train I could take back. I liked that idea better--I could move around if someone was sick and the area is more open.

Took the Pink Line to the Loop and when I got off, did some exploring. I visited the French Market and browsed fresh produce, seafood, baked items, and oh man...truffles to like die over--literally. I purchased one and ate it a while ago. I'm still in euphoria.

The market was great and housed a CVS where I stopped and got some items then off to walk toward "home." But before I had gone far there was this traveling bakery-in-a-truck. Look at the license plate below--and I love it that it's totally pinked out with FLAMES painted on the front. So I got a birthday cake pop on a stick and partied tonight.

After all it is Friday.

After all, I'm here 15 days, alone, and survived so much turmoil to finally be safe where I am.

After all, I walked more than 2 miles at a brisk pace.

After all...that's all I have to say now... (thank you Forrest Gump)

Pictures of my day today:

Steam plant at University of Illinois Hospital

Adorable hand painted bench at the train station

I take the Pink line!

My cake pop and truffle. So delicate...

Truffles, oh truffles, wherefore art thou?

Beautiful but banana not my style.

Will try one of these next time.

This is the one I had.

YUMM is right!

The cupcake mobile!

University hospital

Escalator to Heaven?

Waiting for the train.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Fourteen

2011-05-05T05:55:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 181

Thursday
5-5-2011

National Day of Prayer today.

I pray for all the people I see from my window on the 38th floor.
I pray they can find peace in the pressure of life.
I pray for compassion and love to fill their hearts.
I pray for where some of them will sleep tonight.
I pray for comfort for those losing jobs, leaving marriages, struggling with children, suffering from painful medical conditions, and fighting to live a better life.
I pray beyond that horizon outside my window for United States to my west, to my east, and to my south.
I pray the people of this country would rise up to reach for higher ground and strive for the best they can be.
I pray each person that can claim they live in the United States would stop, all at once, and thank God for what they are free to accomplish in this place of opportunity.
I pray for the countries across the Pacific Ocean.
I pray Japan can overcome the incomprehnsible loss and damage by looking to a God who is bigger than the destruction.
I pray for the recovery from earthquakes that break terra firma and break the lives dependent on it's solidity.
I pray for unity in Asia and for safety for Indonesia where earthquakes and poverty prevail.
I pray for the enormous, expansive Russian Federation.
I pray the leadership and government in Russia would have their hearts softened by the suffering of the people.
I pray China to also soften their hearts and find love.
I pray for Australia, the floods, fires, and extreme risks nature poses.
I pray they seek the one who created it all.
I pray India would no longer be the land of telemarketing and computer support, but the land of people who know the truth and that truth would set them free.

I pray over the Atlantic Ocean for Europe, Great Britain, and the countries of Africa.
I pray the peoples of Great Britain, Scotland, Norway, and other countries in that area would wake from the sleep of opulence and bring their minds back in focus with the God of peace.
I pray for Africa and it's vast countries including so many different tribes and tongues.
I pray for provision for the many people who suffer and no nothing of the world those of us live.
I pray for Egypt, Israel, and the other countries at the center of Biblical history and beginnings.
I pray the wars will stop and blood will never be shed again.
I pray for the countries south such as South America, Mexico.
I pray the corruption would halt and the people be able to live the robust lives they were born to live.
I pray for the Northern Territories of Canada, Greenland, and all those frozen places where people thrive.
I pray they reach out to their fellow countries and join the big picture of life on earth together.

I pray for peace.

I pray that Christians would represent the Lord as he would have us be.
I pray hatred would stop.
I pray Christians would become completely selfless, giving everything to help others.
I pray people who represent God would put away their personal beliefs and make all standards based on a loving God.

I pray for unity.

I pray ALL people on the earth would accept each other and accept that each person has the freedom to seek God where they are led to find him.
I pray all to find the truth that God in Heaven wants them to find.
I pray for all peoples to love each other no matter what color, ethnicity, belief, orientation, or lifestyle.

I pray for you and I to be aware of the world out there and take our eyes off our troubles so we could realize the burdens of others and reach out to them.

I pray for longevity of a God who has much mercy. That he would see fit to allow everyone to hear the truth and have a chance to know they have a choice.

Amen

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Thirteen

2011-05-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 180

Wednesday
5-4-2011

Oh wow, my 180 did a 180. I'm on the waiting list for a pancreas 180 days now--average wait time--just the average--is 180. Gotta get better from here on in. Lot's of variables but that day must be close. Wow.

Flowers in Front of Building

STOP - WAIT - This is a new addition to this post and it's late afternoon on Weds. I am once again BLOWN AWAY by ALL the MIRACLES happening.

When I got up this morning, I started packing in anticipation of moving out again and finding another place to stay. But some very AMAZING people working with the hospital and Presidential Towers once again came to my rescue. I can STAY in this place as long as I need to and the financial arrangement is even less than I ever dreamed. Oh, all those prayers and being received and heard. You have all been so great, praying for me non-stop.

So, I am going to celebrate by sleeping in the bed tonight for the first time. I've been here six days and have slept on the couch the whole time, not even stepping into either bedroom. Wow, I'm going to party and have some dark chocolate and a cup of tea!

I styled my hair and put make up on today
but think I like the messy look better!

And can you believe I feel guilty now? Guilty for not remaining completely faithful for God to provide as HE has every step of the way from Miracle one listed below in a posting a few days ago. EVERY need--big and small--has been met. I am ashamed that I ever doubted. And now, when I am wheeled into that frigid, brightly lit operation room, hair neatly tucked under a paper cap and toes freezing, I will go under with peace and comfort.

Besides--my new hair cut will make it easier to tuck my hair in.

I also got to visit the campus of Moody Bible Institute and meet my all time favorite radio host, the one and only, Mike Kellogg. Wow, I love that man. And we chatted in his office like old friends. His Music Through the Night show lulls me into a peaceful sleep many nights.

So today was a very good day. The weather is glorious. The sun shines with pride and joy. The breeze holds a bit of warmth. And the days ahead promise to be promising. I am forever grateful for all those reaching out to help me.

Thank you to Jesse today who made it all possible. And Pastor Bob who introduced me to Jesse.

The original arch at Moody from 125 years ago.

How wonderfully lucky I am to have perused the campus at Moody. After, I took the train and then explored downtown. I really like the city of Chicago.

As my friend Daniel said, "It's the Cindy City."

Maybe a donor pancreas next.

------------------------------------
I walked around the city Tuesday. Found a shop to get my hair cut and colored. I feel shorter. It's good to have my hair done before major surgery.

I've had two "Monday Night Dinners" with Lenee--remember my angel friend? We're calling them "The Monday Night Last Supper" nights. I keep hoping it will be the last supper on a Monday before I get called for a donor pancreas. Cute, huh?

And, once again, I have to move from my place. There are other people scheduled to come in this weekend, so I hope there is another place in this building for me to stay. I hope. Otherwise I'm back to looking for a place: a suitable, quiet, safe, peaceful place.

My life's a zoo and the zookeeper quit. The animals are running all over the place!

Tonight, I rearrange again. I'll post more after I get moved and settled again. Another sunset in Chicago--another day ending with the unknown ahead.

Sunset Over Chicago

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy In Chicago - Day Twelve

2011-05-03T09:48:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 179

Tuesday
5-3-2011

On the twelfth day of waiting I finally settled in,
With groceries in my 'frigerator,
Coffee perking for my breakfast,
Toast toasting in the toaster,
Butter waiting for my toe-oast,
Raspberry Jam to brighten the morning,
Juice chilling to take my pills with,
Ham and cheese to make a sandwich,
Tomatoes ready to be sliced,
And even mustard to make it nice,
Plenty of bottled water to drink,
Protein drinks there may be two I think,
And one sparsely stocked kit-chen.

But notice, the only rooms I am using in this gorgeous two bedroom, two bath apartment are the kitchen living room, and bathroom. I am still sleeping on the couch--no, I will not give in and sleep in the bedroom. If I had enough money to pay the rent here while I am in ICU, I could settle in. But alas, I will have to break down the living setup and trudge with everything I have to the hospital once called.

So...here are my sparse essentials...

Starbucks Brew

My 'Fridgerator

Breakfast Today

The Master Bedroom

The Second Bedroom

Time to take a walk, do some power walking, see if I can get a hair cut, maybe some shopping...Be back later today.

Oh, and it's partly sunny.

And I may add a new counter to keep myself focused. The amount of days until I think I can finally go home. That will equal the date I get called for surgery, plus average of 10 days in ICU, and the average of 4-6 weeks recovery in Chicago that I'll err on the better side of 5 weeks. I do heal fantastically fast!

That would make today, May 3, 2011, plus 10, plus 28 to equal June 17, 2011 if I'm lucky. Hmmm...I'll miss my 29th wedding anniversary on May 23 with my husband, John. I don't want to miss his birthday in July. He spent two of them in ICU with me.

Okay, these postings are getting a bit depressing. Better go out before I depress all of you! Have to kick my butt out of pity party. Have you ever heard the song, "If there ever was a pooper at a party you're the one. Party Pooper. Party Pooper."? hahahahaha

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Eleven

2011-05-02T07:36:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 178

Monday
5-2-2011

Oh, the weather...we had one sunny day but it is warming up. I hear summer in Chicago is gorgeous. I'd like to be home by Fourth of July. But I guess I'd have a good view of the fireworks from the 38th floor.

Eleven days here in Chicago? Really? Wow, I'm living in a dream.

But, today is....drum role please...Miracle Monday. I have to, for my own sanity, list the miracles that have happened since starting this pancreas journey. Ready, set, go:

I go to Florida the day after Valentine's day for a one week book tour. I had gotten my last and final answer from all pancreas transplant centers I'd contacted that no one would do a pancreas transplant on me--too dangerous--too iffy. I search and find an experimental program in Belgium I apply for. But through a gentleman who attended my first speaking event, who introduced me to a gal who had a pancreas transplant three years ago, I contact this life saving doctor here in Chicago who says, "YES, I will give you a pancreas--I won't let you die."

After returning home and teaching at two events, including a large conference that took a lot of work, I have to fly out to Chicago for testing and hopeful approval. The airline ticket was $398.00. The gentleman I met in Florida sent me a check from the Southwest Florida Transplant Assistance organization to help me with my expenses. The check was for $400.00. Ticket paid for.

On a Wednesday night, my husband and I sat at the kitchen table and calculated that with all the time needed to stay in Chicago, we'd need $3,000.00 for housing. Have to take out an equity loan. Don't want to use credit card--he had just lost his job of 30 years and was waiting to find out if he will be relocated. The next afternoon, Thursday, I received a letter from a famous writer and long time friend. In it was a check for $3,000.00. He sent it on Monday from Atlanta, Georgia. Felt like God wanted him to send it. He had no idea what John and I had discussed. Housing paid for--in full.

After being here five days, things didn't go well where I was staying. I had to leave quickly. I asked friends on Facebook to pray for me--specifically. A sweet friend prayed for a taxi driver who was a Christian and would be safe and would take me anywhere I needed to go for exactly $75.00. Less than a minute after I read her post on my cell phone, the taxi drove up, the driver was a Christian, he set the meter at exactly $75.00--a flat rate to go anywhere I needed to go, and when we arrived in the city of Chicago at my new place, he prayed for me.

Now I have to make my budget stretch further and in the city--it wouldn't work. The $3,000.00 would no longer last--but someone wanted to help--anonymously--and paid for the first 7 days in my new place and then the discounted rate afterwards made it once again, perfect.

Wow, next--a miracle pancreas transplant. Not sure anyone has ever done one on someone like me who already had a heart transplant, is a diabetic, and has been through so many surgeries and life-threatening situations in only 9 and a half years.

I hope Miracle Monday brings the ultimate miracle...

For Now, A Word From Our Sponsor:

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Ten

2011-05-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 177

Sunday
5-1-2011

Okay, this is silly--I'll only sleep on the couch because I keep hoping I won't have time to sleep in the bedroom. There's actually two--one master with a king size bed, walk in closet, and bathroom, the other has two twin beds.

Me trying out the third bed. Really...

Wasn't it Goldilocks who couldn't figure out what bed she liked the best?

"Cindy was very tired so she went down the hall to the bedrooms. She laid down in the first bed, but it was too big. Then she laid in the second bed, but it was too soft. Then she laid down in the third bed and it was too hard. Then she laid down on the couch, and she was satisfied that it provided quick access to her luggage and the front door. Cindy fell asleep."

Well, I'm either going to walk to the grocery store for food or be lazy and PeaPod a few items like water, juice, cheese, milk... Don't want to leave behind a lot of food stuff when I get called for the surgery.

Back later.

So I got a salad at Potbelly's and ordered groceries from PeaPod to be delivered tomorrow morning. Maybe if I start nesting and settling in--I'll get the call. 8^)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Nine

2011-05-01T11:53:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 176

Saturday
4-30-2011

Spent a lot of time in my apartment today. I guess I'm trying to complete my bucket list. But it's not really a bucket list--more like a hmmm...like a complete-it-before-surgery-list. I have to come up with a euphemism for this situation. Maybe a...well, send me one in a comment if you come up with an appropriate phrase.

My list includes lot's of computer time: update teen site, changes and final work for book two, email composed to send out when I get "the call," paperwork, writing, blogging, twittering, facebooking, updating, contemplating, listing, waiting, whining, crying, wondering; yikes.

But being on the 38th floor, far above the city, provides awesome views. Someone donated seven days in an executive apartment and after that, I can have it for a discounted rate. I have to complete an application for the NFT--National Foundation for Transplants. If I can gather up a couple of friends--they help with fund raising for my expenses. It's a great program.

Here are some pics of my place:

Looking North Over Chicago

My Living Room - For Now

I'm on the 38th Floor - For Now

Where I'm at - For Now

Nighttime View

Walking the City of Chicago

The accommodations are great--the waiting--incommodious--Webster's idea of "inconvenient, as not affording sufficient space or room; uncomfortable" While I have abundant room(s), the time passing can be suffocating. But ya know, this will end one day soon. I have to get out of my pity party today.

In fact, because of a dear friend back home in Spokane, I met a college student from Moody Bible College. We're going to walk to the sandwich shop and visit. Yay!

And then there's Lenee--whom without, my visit here to Chicago would have been unbearable!

AMAZING friend, Lenee. My saving angel! Greek food, a Greek Mamma, and fun!

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Eight

2011-04-29T08:00:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 175

Friday
4-29-2011

Moving day today. I'll be busy till the afternoon. Some amazing person and peoples helped get me a room in the city of Chicago--real close to the hospital. Wowza! I think this'll be the last move before the call; the we-have-a-donor-pancreas for you call. So keep an eye out here. I'll post a quick update when "it's time."

Here's something else everyone should travel with--a small, two cup hot pot. No, you can hardly find them in any stores, online, from Amazon or SkyMall or Overstock.com. Really. I peruse the thrift stores and watch for it at garage sales. Never paid more than $3.00. Great for tea, Starbucks VIA, instant soup. I have three so when one dies, I can replace it. Stock up as long as I find them.

Probably will have better updates and pics once I move into the city. Yahooo...

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Seven

2011-04-28T09:49:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 174

Thursday
4-28-2011

Cloudy but the SUN is out! Yes!

I'm so bummed. Yesterday was such a terrible day--I missed American Idol! OMG--missed the ONE show I watch with a passion. Oh, James, I didn't get to see you perform. You won't be on Hulu, YouTube, or anywhere. My heart sinks at the thought.

Hey, that reminds me of one of the teachings I do, "A Heart By Any Other Name." I use certain phrases to illustrate our hearts are more than a muscle. If it were really only a muscle, why do we use it in so many inanimate ways?:

"I love you with all of my spleen."
"My intenstines break for you."
"I love you from the bottom of my stomach."
"He wears his liver on his sleeve."
"My bladder goes out to you."
"Absence makes the thyroid grow fonder."
"He's a man after my own pancreas."

What ones can you come up with?

Well, off to the gym soon. Then a walk on the wild side to some stores. Work to do. And more posting later. See ya...

Walked cancelled. Gym cancelled. On the phone for hours...and ...drum roll please.... I now have a place to stay in downtown Chicago, affordable, a few block from the hospital--The Presidential Towers. Oh ,yes, no mo' packin' Like, "On the road again, just can't wait to get on the road again..." Sing it Willy!

I have to repack once again. Man, this blog is getting boring. Pack and unpack, pack and unpack, I promise some exciting news is coming soon. Actually an amazing event that I'm hoping to will happen soon. Keep reading...

But first, a word from out sponsor....dee deeet dee deeet (that's a teletype machine--you know, before computers.)

This computer I'm blogging from, an ASUS netbook, 2gb RAM, Atom Processor, is my friend, buddy, comrade, and life saver on the road. Sorry iPhone, I'm not in love with you yet. And because I travel often, and I love a great cup of coffee with HALF AND HALF--not powder or wee wee milk, I bring MINI MOOS! No refrigeration needed, they fit in your purse or pocket, (don't squash them) and if you are desperate you can add water and have a bowl of cereal with them.

So, computer and Mini Moo's go together and I named my computer: MINIMOO.

Think I'll get some work done; I'm getting way too silly.

Signing off until tomorrow,

Cindy in Chciago
Waiting for a pancreas transplant

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Six

2011-04-27T07:57:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 173

Wednesday
4-27-2011

It's still gray and rainy out.

Oooops...have to do some rearranging. Be back later tonight.

* * *

Wow, Okay, I'm back. Had a rough day today. You'd think I could just be sick in a peaceful way. Oh well, such is the way things can go. I haven't heard from the gals at the hospital yet. Need to have two tests done and they'd like to get them scheduled before I get called for a pancreas. So...I'm waiting...and waiting...

For now, lot's to do to keep me busy. I'm in a hotel off of Naperville Rd. and think I'll take a walk to explore tomorrow. Kind of got off keel a bit so bear with me.

Had a great friend from Iowa meet with me today. Haven't seen him in two years. Love that guy. We chatted and caught up in a short hour and a half visit. Funny how when I'm traveling for business on my book tours and for speaking events, I don't feel as lonely as I do tonight. The busyness of traveling and planning keeps me occupied. Having a purpose makes the tired a good tired.

So I may have to find something else outside this hotel room for me to be occupied with. I'll let you know when I come up with something. For now, here's some recent advice I learned:

Advice For Life:

Remember, when you go into a new situation, not everything is absolute.
Faced with an aggravating dilemma? Don't get frustrated or fight it. Life is too short.
Raining out again? How do you think the earth gets green?
Hash browns soggy and cold? At least there's food on the plate.
A simple trick with string and a bobbin beats a video game any day.
What's a cell phone?
When you win the chocolate bar at Bingo, the decent thing to do is share it with the loser next to you.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Five

2011-04-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 172

Tuesday
4-26-2011

It's still gray and rainy out.

Too much partying last night--slept past my alarm.

Anyways... I'm working on editing today for my teen writers, uploading changes for book two to my publisher, telecon at 4:00 PM with a publicist, and lots of writing to get done.

* * *

I got busy and then had some phone calls so couldn't post by the afternoon. I'm using my iPhone plugged into my mini to get a connection. It actually works great--like a LAN most of the time. Slows down at night. Disconnects if I take a phone call. Ahhhh...I see the headline...

New AT&T iPhone Commercial “Talk & Surf” Fires Back at Verizon
2-4-2011 - AT&T has released a new iPhone commercial that jabs at the Verizon network. The commercial features a guy making last minute dinner reservations on his iPhone while chatting on the phone to his partner. The point of the commercial is to brag about AT&T’s ability to use voice and data concurrently, ending with “only AT&T’s network lets your iPhone talk and surf at the same time.”

It’s kind of funny watching the two major US iPhone carriers fight it out over commercials, and Apple is happily caught in the middle here since the product being sold is always the iPhone, the competition is between service.

I have Verizon...

* * *

Got some work done today. Chatted with the designer at my publisher about book two's cover, and had a fantastic telecon at 4:00 PM with my hopefully new publicist. I love her! Of course, we will resume talks after the new pancreas. Yikes, sounds like I'm on maternity leave.

What will tomorrow bring? What may tonight bring? A call? A pancreas? A tragic death of someone out there. Sad for the family, happy for me, sad for me.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day Four

2011-04-25T12:32:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 171

Monday
4-25-2011

Raining again in Wheaton.

Got an email today from my pancreas pre-transplant nurse coordinator. That's a long cumbersome title. We're scheduling some ultrasound testing for my abdomen and to check circulation in my legs. Better get some exercise today.

I'm listed as wait time of 171 days already because of my time in Minneapolis. Average wait time here for a pancreas transplant is 180 days. I guess I'm close.

Well, must exercise and shower. AND BIG NEWS, a dear friend who I haven't seen in almost 20 years has a niece here. She's picking me up at 6 tonight for dinner out and shopping. Oh yeah...oh Yeahhhhhhh...

* * *

Almost 6:00 PM. Yes! Dinner out and a few stores with my angelic friend.

Blonde, lively, lovely, and crazy, Lenee drove off as we figured out where to eat. I loved downtown Wheaton and Lenee shared her experience with her first job here as we passed the actual building where she used to work. "I had a friend's big truck to drive and when I left the interview, I had to climb back in wearing my pink suit. I noticed the entire office was lined up against the second floor windows watching me. What could I do? I grabbed my skirt and lifted it high above my thighs so I could climb in. I got the job. They said the skirt move convinced them nothing could scare me off." I giggled and pictured those faces pressed up against the glass panes.

We chatted nonstop. I love to talk with someone who can gab as much as me--never have to worry about them thinking I talk too much. And ya know, we both gave each other ample time to expound on our life stories. If only everyone was like Lenee! 8^)

She graciously stopped at a few stores and brought me "home." It was after 8:00 so the doors were locked. Willy, a care manager was there to punch the code that let us in and let Lenee out. We posed for a quick picture. I hope she won't hate me for posting it. This is what two women look like after spicy HOT Mongolian food, wine, and a peanut butter ganache and chocolate dessert launching us over the top.

It was a great evening.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Cindy in Chicago - Day One

2011-04-23T18:46:00.000-07:00

Average wait time at the University of IL: 180 days. Days I've waited on the list: 168

Friday
April 22, 2011

The taxi ride from Chicago's Midway airport to Wheaton, Illinois took 35 minutes and $93.00. If the driver would have listened to Brenda, my iPhone's GPS navigator, it would have saved me $15.00. I think he got lost on purpose. Good thing I had Biker Gumby to protect me.

I'm here, far from my home in Spokane, Washington--again. I need a life saving organ transplant--again. A heart in 2005 and now a pancreas in 2011, hopefully. I'm tired and lonely. But the accommodations are fantastic compared to where I stayed the week before when I was here for testing. I was directed by a patient services department to a cheap room in South Chicago, in a neighborhood where gun shots ring out during the day, where short little white girls are not supposed to walk the streets, and where dusk means get home fast.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Two Dollar Toll

2011-03-28T16:25:00.000-07:00

It was a horrid day of failures and defeats; a week long book tour in southwest Florida turned to three weeks and I had one more large event. Friday night's downtown Fort Myers gathering with 5,000 people expected could allow me to sell the rest of my books instead of mailing them home. At four thirty I made my way to the conference center, my rental car packed with supplies and props.

I was supposed to arrive for setup by four.

Earlier that day, my phone died--permanently, I waited at an appointment and the people did not show up, and I had to pack boxes of books, tables, and equipment into my rental car by myself. Its large trunk accommodated everything and whatever else I had fit in the back seat. An older, retired, undercover cop car; a Crown Victoria ... heck, it was the cheapest rental I could find, and it's familiar body style paved the way on most roads. No one wanted to get pulled over.

But after most of the day was wasted, I made my way to downtown Fort Myers in my retired cop car, sweaty clothes damp from the humidity, hair flopped into a bun, and no make-up on. I wanted to make it work.

I ignored the GPS talking above a loud air conditioner fan screaming out cool air as I daydreamed about actually having someone to help. Would be nice--not being alone all the time...

As I complained in my head, I missed the turn off for down town and instead headed up the bridge ramp to cross the Caloosahatchee River. The Midpoint Memorial Bridge is a toll bridge that costs $2.00 each time you drive over it. It wasn't the $2.00 that ended it for me--it was the thick, rush hour traffic squashed into two lanes and the fact I made just one more mistake that day. I was now completely defeated. Maybe the Lord just doesn't want me to go. But I wanted to go. I wanted to make some money to offset the cost of staying in Florida two more weeks. Ugh.

The hot sun beat on my arm stinging my delicate skin. Years of transplant meds made me sensitive to heat and likely to get skin cancer. My boat of a car groaned under the stop and go progression. I leaned my head back on the seat momentarily and then jerked forward as I approached the toll booth.

A dark skinned Florida native, her beautifully sunned complexion rich with brown tones, smiled at me with an animated Cheshire cat grin. "You don't have to pay today. The gentleman in front of you paid your toll."

I perked up, sitting forward and looking at the back of the blue car that was in front of me. It was already far from the toll booth and disappeared as I looked back at the clerk. "Wow, that's amazing," I said in that quick moment we had to converse. The toll light turned green for GO and I made my way over the bridge.

I turned off the air conditioning, opened the windows, and let the ocean breeze and smell of salt water beyond the river drown deeply into my worn out senses. My face loosened as the tension left and I released my shoulders into the large creases of the front bench seat.

Two dollars ... a two dollar toll was not a toll but a gift from someone who God used to send me a message. It was okay and I was going to be okay.

I missed the event but returned to my room satisfied. A day of defeat and failure ended with assurance I wasn't beaten. And that man in the car ahead of me may not ever know how far that two dollars went--unless I see him in heaven. I hope I do.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Pizza on Earth?

2010-12-07T13:32:00.000-08:00

O Little Town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie …
O morning stars together proclaim the holy birth
And praises sing to God the King and peace to men on earth

Tis’ the season to be peaceful? Glaring lights, tinseled ornaments, merchants, advertisers, and profiteering corner salesmen lure the throngs of people to their bargain tables. Driving by a local pizza shop, I sneered at the creative string of blinking of lights above the entrance: PIZZA ON EARTH

Where did this concept of peace during the Christmas season come from? Better yet, where has it gone? The peace the world seeks during Christmas is rooted in tradition, foods, smells, and sights—all temporary fixes. Yet the premise this holiday is based on—the birth of Jesus, historically presumes to bring peace to men on earth.

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.” (Matthew 10:34 NIV)

What did Jesus mean by this? Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest reveals the foundation of true peace,

Thousands of people are happy without God in this world. If I was happy and moral till Jesus came, why did He come? Because that kind of happiness and peace is on a wrong level; Jesus Christ came to send a sword through every peace that is not based on a personal relationship to Himself. My Utmost for His Highest, December 19

You can have peace during this time. But the discipline of finding it has to gain its momentum from knowing Jesus.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33 NIV)

Are you resting in Jesus? If he is your peace, he must be the root of all your festivities. Then, letting go of guilt and generational mandates for the holidays can be the ingredients you add to find true peace.

Pizza on Earth is only for a season. Peace through Jesus is everlasting.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6 NIV)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Writers Write About Writing

2010-11-23T00:37:00.000-08:00

The reading habits of the average evangelical Christian in the United States, as far as I have been able to observe them, are so wretchedly bad as actually to arrest the spiritual development of the individual believer and block the progress of the faith he professes to hold.

So powerful is the effect of the printed page on human character that the reading of good books is not only a privilege but an obligation, and the habitual reading of poor ones a positive tragedy. A.W. Tozer. The Warfare of the Spirit, Chapter 28; The Decline of Good Reading, Christian Publications. 1993, 125.

That said with cutting expression, Tozer makes a point writers must heed. Bad writing makes bad books. Authors, throughout the span since Gutenberg, learned the work and toil required to publish well written books.

Writers must read voluminously. Ernest Hemingway explains his appetite for the written word:

“I'm always reading books—as many as there are. I ration myself on them so that I'll always be in supply." The words are Hemingway's, but friends and relatives have also testified to the extent of his reading.

"He was always reading. When he wasn't working, he was reading. "He read all the time.” "I think Ernest read just about everything. He was a terrific reader." "He read everything. He would have a whole group of books going at one time, eight or ten... He would put one down and pick up another." "Ernest read everything."

Today’s catalog of Hemingway’s personal library lists 7,700 books; 278 he wrote himself.

Writers have to determine to work hard and not let anything stop them. Read how Joni Eareckson Tada has to prepare to write:

There were plenty of times at Joni and Friends when I had to pull away from the computer and simply lie down to give my body a break. It takes a team of people to not only help me research and type, but to get me sitting up comfortably in my wheelchair and moving forward.

This is no time to write a book.

But I have to try.

It won’t be easy. It may not be wise. Nevertheless, if you are reading these words, it has been accomplished, and the book has been published. God be thanked!

… Incessant pain, as those who have lived in its grip can attest, makes it very difficult to think, work, relate, plan, write. Joni Eareckson Tada. A Place of Healing, David C. Cook, 2010

Let me add some light to the quandary:

In Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller dabs colorful paint on a canvas to create the picture most think of when they hear writer used as a profession:

Writers don’t make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we don’t work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmuck’s book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealously, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch face down and mumble to God to forgive us because we envied another man’s stupid words. And for this, as I said before, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more. Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003. 187

What does it take to be a writer?

Hard Work
Determination
Lot’s of Reading
A Dose of Humor
Long-suffering

Ready, set, go…

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

The Cure for Writer's Block - Really

2010-10-02T15:07:00.000-07:00

It took Robert Frost 20 years to get his first poem published.

It took me 38 years to get my first book published. Yep, I was ten years old when I sent in my first manuscript. Weeks later, an envelope addressed to me was in the mail. I tore into it with passion. I was a writer.

It was a rejection letter. They rejected a ten year old, sweet, little girl with a love for all things literary.

"Big deal. I'll write another one." Off to my desk to begin again. I was not thwarted, until I was in my forties and still getting rejection letters. You lose the innocence of childhood after writing and bleeding words for decades.

And one of the worst setbacks, primo to rejection letters, is ... writer's block. The dark, blank pain of no words to write, errrr, I mean type. You know it.

I have a variant on this menacing condition; "typist's block."

A writer is:

a person engaged in writing books, articles, stories, etc., esp. as an occupation or profession; an author or journalist.
a clerk, scribe, or the like.
a person who commits his or her thoughts, ideas, etc., to writing: an expert letter writer.
a person who writes or is able to write: a writer in script.

"writer." Dictionary.com Unabridged. Random House, Inc. 02 Oct. 2010. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/writer>.

A typist is:

a person who types

"typist." Collins English Dictionary - Complete & Unabridged 10th Edition. HarperCollins Publishers. 02 Oct. 2010. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/typist>.

Which person above can have writer's block? What is writer's block? Hmmm, when a writer can't think of what to write? Or when someone can't continue typing? My motto? Just do it!

I found the cure for writer's block. I absolutely, unequivocally decided to admit I am a writer, not a typist. Do you fit the definition for writer above? Then you are a writer. That's it. Say it, "I am a writer, not a typist." When you agree with yourself that you don't have to reach a particular level to be declared a writer, you are then confirmed in your own mind. Writer's block goes away.

Don't type--write. You are a writer!

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Hands Free?

2010-09-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

Hands free...that's the declaration in most places. Do not use your cell phone, while driving, without a hands free device. Like, do not talk on a cell phone and drive at the same time.

Okay. I get it.

I dislike when someone drives erratic because they are distracted. It angers me. But one day, I pulled out of a medical center's parking lot and had called someone to leave a message. My cell phone was at my ear.

As my vehicle pulled onto the street, a car with a woman driving sped up next to me, making me swerve. She yelled out her window things I cannot repeat, waved her arm at me, and almost ran us both into the curb. After, she held her cell phone out her window--I got it. She thought I was talking and driving.

I was flustered and hung up quickly after completing my message. I put the phone on the seat next to me, mad at her rude, arrogant reaction. But then I thought, maybe she lost a loved one due to a distracted driver. Maybe she was in an accident because of someone talking on a cell and driving. Maybe she was simply someone who wanted the law upheld in any case.

Still, her reaction was inappropriate. People tend to react before thinking. We all do it. But a verse in Psalms tells us to be still and let God take care of everything.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10 KJV)

And I want to be still in all things. It's better for everyone and easier on our hearts and minds.

Are you passionate about politics? Laws? Rules? Requirements? Maybe being still and giving people a chance to regroup will help us all live more peacefully.

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes." (Psalm 37:7 NIV)

"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still." (Exodus 14:14 NIV)

PLEASE COMMENT! 8^)
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What Happens When We Die?

2010-07-27T15:53:00.000-07:00

Once all the machines were hooked up, beeping and high-pitched alarms sounded like an out-of-tune marching band. My heart beat furiously and sent a wave of sharp pain into my neck and right arm. Although I was still conscious, I felt like I was slipping away. I didn’t know if it was the medicines being pushed through IV lines or the overwhelming nausea that was paralyzing me.

Slowly, the room became a blur. Screaming sounds from machines and panicky voices from personnel faded. The muted scene became as if I were watching through an old glass pane, wavy and rippled with age. Nurses and doctors raced to work on me.

“She’s coding!” one nurse yelled. “She’s not breathing and we don’t have a pulse!”

Her alarmed look flashed briefly before me.

Although my lifeless body was being assaulted by attempts to start my heart back up, I wasn’t concerned. I was still, placid and unable to do anything. It was like I was outside my body, looking down. Even though a steady calmness held me from fear, one thing was sure to me: I knew I was dying.

Watching from above the exam table was like hovering over a movie set as the actors played out a scripted scene. I was there, but in a mystical way I never had felt before. Because I was weightless and inert, none of the treatments being done had any effect on me. I felt no pain. I felt no fear.

Behind me was a powerful presence of pure white; not simply a bright light, but a pureness beyond feeble words found in any language. I was drawn to this backdrop, wanting to hold onto the motionless entity. It was omnipotent. I knew I was in God’s presence. He was right there behind me, watching as if we were both producers monitoring the actor’s parts.

I spoke to Him, inaudibly to anyone in the room or me. My thoughts were sufficient for both of us to communicate.

“Lord, please don’t let me die here in this ER all alone. Please, Lord, save me.”

Somehow, He assured me it wasn’t time for me to go.

I took a gasp of air and regained consciousness. Harsh sensations of the real world smacked me out of the tranquil visitation. My body wriggled and I felt my arms twist and contort. Cardiac seizures further threatened to take my life.

Alongside the exam table were doctors, nurses, and the hospital chaplain. Something bad must have happened for the chaplain to be standing there with his white collar and prayer stole.

“We thought we were going to lose you, young lady,” one of the nurses chimed at me. She continued to pump medications through the IV lines.

Two doctors worked to calm the seizures and recover a stable heart rate so there would be no more near-death experiences. No one wanted to come that close again.

* * *

A near-death experience and an encounter with God changed my perspective about dying. I always feared how it could happen. Would I drown or suffer a painful, slow death? This phobia made me feel cowardly as a Christian. Shouldn’t I know that God is not going to let me die in a tortuous, painful way? Grabbing on to a concept of total security in the face of death is something I never imagined I could do.

But those few moments I visited with God were unexplainable. I was at peace and felt protected when I transitioned to that altered state. In a way, I wanted to linger and remain where it was safe and repose. Even though I returned to the brutal reality of mortal life, the realization that death had no power over me freed me up to shrug off the dread of tragedy.

Excerpt from Cindy Valenti-Scinto's Book, A Heart Like Mine, Chapter 1, pages 6-7. Want to know more? Order A Heart Like Mine, Finding God's Will for Your Life: Order Here at a Discount and with Author Signing

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Time Keeps on Ticking, Ticking, Ticking...

2010-07-22T14:43:00.000-07:00

Lately, I'm receiving a lot of article links, postings, boastings, and advice columns on time management. I like to speculate that time management is not an issue for me. But it is.

I wrote an article for the Mermaids of the Lake, (yes, I am an aspiring Mermaid) and have to follow my own advice this week. http://www.mermaidsofthelake.com/news.asp?id=394

Somehow, things get out of control and I find myself close to a burnout. Like a nitro race car that spins it's tires, shrieks rubber, and blows smoke; when it's done with the quarter mile sprint, maybe 7 seconds later, it's done.

I am determined to get back in the right lane. My husband, a dear, sweet man, (hmmmm...mostly) made a mistake the other day--he mentioned I was a procrastinator. Oh, how dangerous is that? His line stung and I retaliated in my mind. ... I am not a procrastinator ...I just have a lot to do.

The Northwest Christian Author newsletter from January 2010 had a great article on time management written by Agnes C. Lawless:

"#9. Learn to say no - One of the best time-savers is saying no to requests that don’t contribute to your goals. When the persons asking are friends, family members, or close associates, you may find it difficult to decline. But you can say, 'I’m sorry. I’m busy that day,' or 'That won’t fit into my schedule.' You must live by your priorities, not those of other people." The Northwest Christian Author, Volume 21, Issue #7, http://www.nwchristianwriters.org/

This morning I cleaned three items, put things away, planned dinner, and vowed to follow through. Too many friends complain to me about not getting things done. But they say yes to everything that sounds good. JUST SAY NO! And do not offer an explanation. And do not require one from a friend who says no. We tell each other to say no when we have to, but then when we offer a no, it's not accepted or a popular answer.

Don't try to convince someone who says no to change their mind...even if it seems like a great offer to you.

Want to change an area of your life? Plan the time frame to do it, warn family and friends you are not available, then DO IT. Your life will be better and you and everyone around you will benefit.

JUST DO IT!

PLEASE COMMENT! 8^)
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"Eases" and "Itis's"

2010-06-30T14:23:00.000-07:00

There's a lot to say about "eases" and "itis's" and even "isms."

Diseases, conditions, and ailments always begin with a Latin word equivalent for the part of the body or type of problem, followed by an ending to fit the category.

I have quite a few; diabetes, rheumatism, cardiac disease, hypothyroidism, dermatitis, canceritis, footatitis, kidneyism, brainisms...okay, the last few were silly. But a long history of serious health problems creates a long list of itis's, eases, and isms.

I remember Sunday's Catholic Mass when I was growing up in a large Italian family in New York. When we all repeated this verse: "Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved: for thou art my praise." (Jeremiah 17:14 KJV) I would repeat the "I shall be healed" part over and over in my head hoping He would heal me of diabetes. But it never happened.

Now, I am almost 50 years old and the list is longer. The itis's, isms, and eases, are multiplying. Has God healed me? Yes, in many ways and of many itis's.

But He hasn't healed me completely of physical isms.

Why?

Never ask why.

Instead, ask, "How can I encourage others to trust in a loving God?" Whatever isms, itis's, or eases you have are there for your growth and character. To quote a dear friend, "What is more powerful, a healed physical body or a changed heart?"

Book signing at One For the Books in Cape Coral, Florida

I am on tour for my first book, A Heart Like Mine, Finding God's Will for Your Life. And I plan to be around for the next two books in the Heart Like Mine trilogy. The road is not easy. Keeping my health fine tuned takes a lot of work. But I refuse to sit back and feel sorry for myself. As long as I am breathing, I am going to offer hope and encouragement to everyone I can.

YOU too have a story and message of hope when you know Jesus. Don't compare yourself to anyone else. Just move forward, take notes, and keep going the path God's will for your life has taken you on!

Cindy

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"X" Your Size!

2010-06-11T10:47:00.000-07:00

Exercise? Oh yuck...I really hate to get started.

In fact, me being able to exercise was squashed by an emotional handicap after years of fighting heart disease and diabetes. Take a look at the list of surgery and procedures under "A Note From the Author" from my book: Click here.

After my first heart attack on September 18, 2001, I started back with my normal routine but each time another heart attack or illness would completely stop me. This kept happening on a regular basis: monthly, weekly, bi-monthly...and dozens of times so I stopped keeping track. I kept thinking I would get better but never did.

After so many let downs, I created a "gun-shy" attitude about exercise and thought if my health situation was better and I started an exercise routine, I'd get sick again. It happened too many times. I had to find a way to eliminate the emotional fear and free myself of the dread, but it took a long time.

How?

I look at exercise as another prescription to take each day and convince myself with each pill I swallow that exercise is just as critical.
I threw routines and specific days out and simply exercise when, how, how much, and when I feel like it. No keeping track of days or results.
I make it fun--walk the mall, bike ride, swimming, parking far from a store and power walking, race down the isles when I grocery shop, avoiding people like an obstacle course, running up and down the steps in my house with laundry...you create your own ways.
Envision the GOOD feeling you always have after you exercise. It feels good to be so accomplished and the mental and physical benefits pay off.

Do you need to get rid of the dread?

Exercise = being able to "X" your size as you lose weight and trim your body. The scale may not always reflect that so be patient. Be free to do what works for you. Keep it simple!

"He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint." (Isaiah 40:29-31 NIV)

PLEASE COMMENT! 8^)
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If I Only Had a Heart

2010-06-02T21:47:00.000-07:00

Just because I'm presumin' that I could be kind-a-human,
If I only had heart.
I'd be tender - I'd be gentle and awful sentimental
Regarding Love and Art.
I'd be friends with the sparrows ... and the boys who shoots the arrows
If I only had a heart.

I hear a beat...How sweet.
Just to register emotion, jealousy - devotion,
And really feel the part.
I could stay young and chipper and I'd lock it with a zipper, If I only had a heart.

The Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz knew what a hollow feeling it was to not have a heart in his chest.

And a young teen--14 years old, also knew what it was like to live without a heart. D'Zhana Simmons said she felt like a "fake person" for 118 days while she had no heart beating in her chest--no heart in her chest at all. "But I know that I really was here," the 14-year-old said, "and I did live without a heart."

IN 2008, D'Zhana needed a heart transplant. Her heart had become dangerously enlarged and could no longer pump enough blood throughout her body. Without a new heart, she would die.

Shortly after traveling from her home in South Carolina, to Holtz Children's Hospital in Miami, she received a life saving heart transplant. But that heart failed her and had to be removed two days later. There is only one heart in each of us, and no backup. D'Zhana would not live without a heart.

Doctors at Holtz Children's Hospital did the unheard of: they replaced the failing, transplanted heart with two pumps, ventricular assist devices, typically used to help a failing heart's chambers circulate blood. VAD's are only used as a bridge to transplant.

A procedure never done before presented new challenges. D'Zhana's doctors had to design replacement heart chambers made of special fabric and then connected to the two pumps.

For more than 100 days, D'Zhana had no heart beating in her chest until she received a second chance at life through one more heart transplant.

Why did D'Zhana feel like a fake person? What makes the heart not only essential to life, but integral to a person's emotional and spiritual state?

There is a higher reason than any scientific explanation for life and creation. Plato said the heart is the center of our being; the I am of who we are.

God speaks of the heart more than 800 times in His Word. And not just as an ethereal concept, but as a life giving, life sustainable part of who we are.

Do you need a new physical heart? Tell me your situation as a comment below, and I will pray for you.

Do you need a new spiritual heart? Post your request below or message me privately on my contact form and I will pray for your need. http://www.cindyscinto.com/contact_me.php

"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." (Ezekiel 36:26 NIV)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

2010-05-25T12:03:00.000-07:00

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

The Bee Gees recorded this timeless song on January 28, 1971 in London. The Gibb brothers actually wrote the song in 1970 but sharp differences alienated their creative, familial connection until they reconciled and reconvened to record their Trafalgar album.

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees, And misty memories of days gone by.

Lyric websites list this song in the "sad songs" genre. It is a sad song. "Misty memories of days gone by..." Picture London: rain, misty, gray, wet, cold. But if you look past the gloominess, there is an artistic, historic, beautiful city brimming with cafes, museums, and architecture built by people of extreme prowess.

The Gibb brothers pose several questions as timeless as their song. But the most important one is the first: "How can you mend a broken heart?" and they reaffirm the internal struggle by asking again and associating a broken heart with a hindered life.

Can someone really have a broken heart?

"Time may indeed mend a broken heart, but physical or emotional trauma can trigger an acute cardiac disorder tagged "broken heart syndrome," with symptoms mimicking heart attacks, according to Mayo Clinic researchers.

When the patients experience the stressful situations, the heart reacts to it and it makes the apex of the left ventricle change.

The good news is, it won't cause a very serious condition like permanent heart damage." (summary)

Broken heart syndrome is now recognized as an official diagnosis. How can BHS be treated?

"'Broken hearts' require treatment...

It is important, the doctors stress, to treat the symptoms of broken heart syndrome. Three of the 19 patients temporarily required a special balloon in the aorta to help the heart pump better. Broken heart syndrome usually requires only short-term treatment because the heart normally recovers by itself." http://www.ynhh.org/healthlink/cardiac/cardiac_5_05.html

Broken hearts need rest, support, and a lot of care. Is your heart broken? Has your spiritual heart been broken? Gloominess does not have to cloud your life with a gray, misty outlook.

Trust in the LORD and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.

Delight yourself in the LORD
and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:

He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. (Psalm 37:3-6 NIV)

PLEASE COMMENT! 8^)Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

I Can't Wait to Grow OLD!

2010-01-26T09:21:00.000-08:00

"What do ya think yer doin'? was the question of disgust John heard as he rolled down the window.

"I am here to pick up my wife."

"Well this here is an intersection and ya can't stop in an intersection."

John was patient--but firm. "I was just picking someone up."

"Well ya should have pulled over there." The scrubby, cranky looking senior citizen pointed towards the driveway for the High School's maintenance entry. He was determined to make his point and reprimand John for momentarily pulling over to the curb to let me in our vehicle. I spent the day--all six periods--speaking to health classes as a volunteer. I loved what I did, but was tired. I used Velcro lips to repress the words ready to hurl anger at the elderly man. Who does he think he is?

We weren't in an intersection and were pulled to the side. I looked at the cobalt blue Parking Meter Enforcement sign on his small vehicle and figured he was retired, bored, and enjoyed his job. Why does he have to be so mean and pushy?

After a long pause, he drove forward as if to make his point by pulling up in front of us. John maneuvered the car around him and we left for home.

A little incident--nothing to give another thought to, bothered me. In the past, other situations with parking or security have been met with a nasty senior citizen delegated to hastily correct people's mistakes. Why?

Why do organizations and companies hire older people who have an angry disposition?

Why do senior citizens take a position where they must interact with the public when they obviously don't like dealing with people?

I have no right to question why someone grows old and becomes angry or miserable. Their life may have led them to the state of mind that molds their later years. But I am saddened to see senior citizens who are angry, unhappy, or mad about the fact that they are old: I want to grow old. A heart transplant in 2005 absolutely shortened my expected life span. I hope to watch God perform a miracle and let me live way beyond medical expectations. But I want to do whatever I can to be kind, gentle, loving, appreciative, and a good example if I get to be a senior citizen.

I expect that if we love the Lord, God, if we do good, and if we love kindness and justice, it is possible to carry these traits into the latter years of our lives.

"He has told you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, And to walk humbly with your God?" (Micah 6:8 NASB)

Lord, pierce my heart with your love and mercy and do not let me fall into a state of anger and vindictiveness. Show me the way to live with honor and kindness so that in my last days your love will be sufficient. Amen

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

A Heart Like Mine by Cindy Scinto

2010-01-19T11:58:00.001-08:00

Poor in Spirit?

2009-12-09T12:24:00.000-08:00

Berserk horns blared and bright lights flicked on and off furiously as two terrified squirrels bolted down the porch steps and back over the wooden fence. Unsuspecting robbers, they had triggered the home made alarm once they reached the top landing. My dad's warning system succeeded in chasing those furry food thieves from stealing leftovers.

In winter, my mom utilized the cold temperatures to store leftovers on the outside porch off the kitchen. And the squirrels knew. They smelled the food but waited until no one was around to bite through the screen and feast on mom's Italian cuisine. This maddened my mom and spurred my dad to invent a repellent. The only draw back was that if the system was left on, anyone walking up the steps to the porch would trigger the vexatious outburst.

My dad, "Pappa Joe" as he was called, was an inventor of everything necessary and unnecessary. His porch, built with his own tools and design, was his sanctuary. It was also the place our family gathered for meals in the warmer seasons. Looking out from its screened in frame, you could spot his signature in the suburban yard we grew up in. His kingdom consisted of flourishing greenery, haphazard creations he invented for fun and function, and whimsical furniture that included his very own throne--a chair fit for a king.

Dad made life a fantastic journey. Yet he hardly ever left the confines of our colonial home on Long Island in New York. The front of the house included a park bench where he would sit and wait for one of us to join him. As soon as he had a taker, the sky became a gigantic movie screen. Clouds, slowly moving and changing, offered an endless pallet of designs we were challenged to identify as whatever our minds saw: a rabbit hopping to the next billowy puff, an elephant raising its trunk in delight, a willow tree offering shade to the sun, and anything we were inclined to conjure up.

His stories also took us to far away places. Recounting countries the war brought him to, scenarios with interesting characters, people he encountered while working as a TV repairman, good memories and bad, all served to enrich our view of the world around us.

And Dad never left us forget how much we had. Although raising a large family left little money for frills and flare, we never wanted for anything. Food and family meals were times to gather and eat, but they were also times to be thankful. And that table on his proudly built porch provided the perfect place for lessons to be taught.

Before most meals, especially large Sunday dinners, Dad would say grace and just as we rushed to devour the first forkful of food, his words would stop us: "I wonder what the poor people are eating."

That was it. No lecture, no added rhetoric, simple words alone forced us to think of our fortune.

I will never forget his powerful words. All the wonderful memories of my dad float about my mind and I often wish I had given more attention to his lessons. But the one lesson at that dinner table, inside the screened porch, overlooking our small but fanciful yard, will always keep my thankfulness in perspective.

I am certainly rich even though sometimes poor in spirit.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3

PLEASE COMMENT! 8^)

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Miracles That Last All Year Long - Cecil Murphey - 1/2

2009-12-04T10:31:00.001-08:00

I love this man! And he gives meaning to Christmas.

Christmas Lighting CdA Idaho Resort

2009-11-28T11:19:00.001-08:00

Oh, so beautiful!

PRESIDENTIAL THANKSGIVING PROCLAMATIONS

2009-11-25T12:51:00.000-08:00

PRESIDENTIAL THANKSGIVING PROCLAMATIONS 1789-1815 : George Washington, John Adams, James Madison

THANKSGIVING DAY 1789
BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - A PROCLAMATION
City of New York
October 3, 1789

Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor - and Whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me "to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness."

Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be – That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks – for his kind care and protection of the People of this country previous to their becoming a Nation – for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his providence, which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war –for the great degree of tranquillity, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed – for the peaceable and rational manner in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted, for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed, and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.

And also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions – to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually – to render our national government a blessing to all the People, by constantly being a government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed – to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord – To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and Us – and generally to grant unto all mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.

Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
GO. WASHINGTON.

2009-11-10T08:50:00.000-08:00

Christmas Miracles

Cecil Murphey/Marley Gibson

Foreword: Don Piper

St. Martin’s Press, Oct. 2009

Hardcover, 256 pages

ISBN: 978-0312589837

Retail: $14.99

(Atlanta, GA) Many ordinary people experience Christmas miracles—those special moments during the season of giving and receiving when Christmas becomes more than just a holiday. In Christmas Miracles (St. Martin’s Press, October 2009), Cecil Murphey and Marley Gibson share the stories of those who have recognized the special moments that transcend daily experience and transform their lives.

In these stories, people overcome desperate situations through a miraculous twist of fate—all during the most wonderful time of the year. A young boy sits down to read a Christmas book and discovers that his learning disability has vanished. A woman stranded in a blizzard is rescued by a mysterious stranger who she suspects is an angel. And a woman living far from home gets an answer to her prayer in the form of an unexpected gift.

Bestselling author Cecil Murphey says, “We all face discouraging times, whether it's the lack of money, being stuck on a road in a snowstorm, feeling stress, or being hungry and homeless. But God's help is available. I want readers to see that miracles do happen—sometimes simple, unexpected blessings or those that involve the supernatural. We start by asking, and in strange and wonderful ways God tiptoes into our dark nights; we experience renewed joy in life and witness God in action through people and unexpected events.”

Award-winning writer Cecil Murphey is the author or co-author of 114 published books, including the NY Times bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven (with Don Piper) and Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story (with Dr. Ben Carson). He’s also the author of When Someone You Love Has Cancer and When God Turned Off the Lights, both 2009 releases. Murphey’s books have sold millions and have given hope and encouragement to countless readers around the world. For more information, visit www.cecilmurphey.com.

Interview with Cecil “Cec” Murphey

by Marley Gibson

Co-authors of Christmas Miracles, from St. Martin’s Press

I am extremely privileged to have the opportunity today to talk to my friend and co-author, Cecil “Cec” Murphey, and to chat about our upcoming book, Christmas Miracles.

Marley: Cec, thanks for spending some time with me today.

Cec: Marley, it's great that you could take time away from important things like making a living to spend a little time with me.

Marley: I’m so jazzed about our Christmas Miracles book that’s coming out soon. I’ve had a lot of questions from folks wanting to know how we met, what brought us together, etc. So, I thought we’d do a back and forth on how it all came to be. Of course, I have to give props to our amazing agent and friend, Deidre Knight, for bringing us together. For those of you who don’t know, Cec co-authored the runaway New York Times bestselling hit 90 Minutes in Heaven with Don Piper.

Cec: I have to say thanks to Deidre Knight as well. Between Deidre and my assistant, Twila Belk, I've been able to sell quite a few books. 90 Minutes in Heaven has been my big book. I'm also proud of a book I wrote in 1990 called Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story. The book has never been out of print and has hit close to four million in sales. Early this year, Cuba Gooding Jr. starred in the made-for-TV film version.

Marley: That’s amazing! You are truly prophetic and definitely “the man behind the words.” Now, people ask how we teamed up. Sadly, there was a personal tragedy that brought Cec and me together as friends.

Cec: True. In early 2007, our house burned and our son-in-law died. Aside from the grief over Alan, we lost everything. Deidre and Jan, my-then-assistant, sent the word out of our tragedy without telling me. I'm immensely grateful for every gift people sent, but I probably wouldn't have admitted I needed help and wouldn't have asked. They taught me how much we need other people.

Marley: Deidre put out a call to other clients of The Knight Agency, to help Cec and his family out in any way in their time of need. At the time, my company was moving and we were cleaning house. We had a ton of office supplies that we were either going to throw away or give to some of the charities the company worked with. I got my boss’ permission to send a large care package to Cec…full of office supplies for him to re-stock his writer’s office. You name it…post-its, staples, paper clips, pens, pencils, markers, white out, ruler, scissors, paper, notebooks, notepads, envelopes, a laptop case, tape, glue, folders, binder clips…etc. A veritable potpourri of office delights. I was hoping that it would help Cec have a sense of getting his office back so he could keep working.

Cec: Marley's gift was the most unexpected I received. We hadn't met, although Deidre Knight had spoken of her many times and kept telling me she was wonderful. I wonder if you can imagine what it was like for me to open that box from someone I didn't know. I saw all those practical things for my office and yelled for my wife. I felt as if I were reading a first-grade book. "Look! Look and see! Oh, look!" I was overwhelmed by the gift and even more to receive it from a stranger. Those supplies were the most practical gift anyone could have given me. I'm still using black paper clips and red folders from Marley.

Marley: Awww…thanks, Cec! I didn’t have to think twice about doing it. Writing is such a solitary “sport,” but the writing community always astounds me with how they help their own. Not long after that, over plates of spinach and Gouda omelets, Deidre introduced me to Cec in person and I was thrilled to finally meet the man behind the words. Deidre knew we needed to work on a project together and thus began our brainstorming. What did you think of that first meeting, Cec, and cooking up the idea to work together?

Cec: Deidre and I had already spoken about a Christmas book and I had some idea about what it should contain, but nothing had come together. One day Deidre told me that Marley was coming to visit her and she wanted us to work together on a Christmas project. Marley and I talked before we ate and again during the meal. Everything felt right to me. I knew my strengths and Marley knew hers (and Deidre knew both of us). Everything clicked. Marley, a far better networker than I am, immediately sent out the word for submissions. Within days she had almost four times more than we could use. (She read every one of them!)

Marley: I was truly impressed with the submissions we received and it was hard narrowing it down to the ones we chose for the book. We’re fortunate to have such a go-getter agent in Deidre Knight. Cec, can you share how the whole idea of Christmas Miracles came about and what you thought of the project originally?

Cec: For me, it actually started while I was on the rapid-rail train from the Atlanta airport when I listened to teens talk about Christmas and it was mostly about gifts. I had the idea then, but nothing really came together. Months later when Deidre I and had a meeting, she brought up the idea of a compilation and mentioned my working with Marley. I've been Deidre Knight's client since 1997 and I've learned to listen carefully when she comes up with an idea. I said yes before she gave me all the information.

Marley: That’s the truth about Deidre! Getting back to those submissions, I want to say we got more than two hundred submissions for Christmas Miracles. So many wonderful stories to read through and select for the book. It was a challenge to pick and choose which ones were right for the book, but I loved every minute of it. After I chose the entries that would go into the book, Cec toiled long hours editing the works for a unified voice. What was the biggest challenge you found in the editing process, Cec?

Cec: I've been a ghostwriter and collaborator for twenty-plus years and this was a switch to give the book a unified voice—which was mine. It would have been easier to stay with each writer's voice, but the book—like many compilations—would have been uneven in tone and quality. When I discussed this via email with our delightful editor, Rose Hilliard, she was (to my surprise) familiar with my work. She told me she liked the warm tone of my writing and that I don't waste words. "That's the voice we want," she said. It still wasn't easy, but it was an exciting challenge. After Marley and I agreed on the stories and gave them that unified voice, our editor pulled six contributions. Although different, Rose felt they were too similar to other stories.

Marley: Can you give our readers a preview of the book? A favorite story perhaps…or one that moved you to tears? (I have to say the little boy who wished for nothing but to be able to read a book all the way through because of his stutter had me bawling when I read the submission.)

Cec: That's not fair! I liked them all. The one that touched me most, however, is the last story in the book, "Sean's Question." We had almost finished the book and I was teaching at a conference in Florida. I felt we needed one strong story at the end. Despite all the good ones, I didn't feel fully satisfied to conclude the book. On the last day of the conference, I met a conferee named Sara Zinn for a consultation. As we talked, I mentioned Christmas Miracles and that I still needed one more story. "I have a Christmas story," she said and told me about Sean. As I listened, tears filled my eyes—but, being the macho type I am, I was sure it was an allergy. Sara wrote the story, and it became the one I sought.

Marley: Oh yes…that one is an emotional one all right. It was meant to be in the book because of how you met at the conference. Now, you and I have both had challenges in our lives that others might have found too much to take, but we are both very strong in our faith and our relationship with God. How do you think Christmas Miracles is going to help others feel closer to God and experience His miracles in their own lives?

Cec: Awareness and appreciation are the two things I want readers to grasp. Awareness means for them to realize that they're never totally alone in life. Those unexpected, out-of-the-ordinary events remind us of that. Appreciation means to be thankful for what we already have. Too often, and especially at Christmas, we focus on what we'd like or what is supposed to make us happy. Christmas Miracles gently reminds readers of both.

Marley: In this day and age when our country is fighting two wars, unemployment is high, and a lot of people have a lack of hope and faith for their future, what do you want readers of the book to take away from Christmas Miracles and how can the stories in our book help provide comfort to those struggling?

Cec: I want readers to see that miracles do happen—sometimes simple, unexpected blessings or those that involve the supernatural (as in one of Marley's stories). I call myself a serious Christian. For me, the world's greatest miracle began with the birth of Jesus. Regardless of a person's religion, this book encourages readers to think about life during the Christmas season and see that life as more than gifts and celebrations. It's also a reminder that God loves us and hears our needy cries.

Marley: Beautifully put, Cec, and I couldn’t agree with you more. Can we share what’s next after Christmas Miracles?

Cec: Why it's the Cec and Marley show, of course. Because of our go-getter agent and our enthusiastic editor, we've already received thumbs up for The Christmas Spirit. This will be stories of people who express the true spirit of Christmas by acts of love and kindness, for release in the fall of 2011.

Marley: And I can’t wait to start working on that project! Thank you so much for your time, Cec, and answering my questions. It was a privilege and honor to work with you and I look forward to our future projects together. You’ve helped me along during a trying time and I appreciate your friendship and support.

Cec: I liked this project because Marley had to send out the word, collect submissions, read them, and discard the weaker ones. I get to see only the better-written stories. (Don't tell her that I have the better job.) Although I mentioned only one story, all of those in the book touched me because of the poignancy of their situations and the miraculous answers. I won't say the stories increased my faith, but they increased my appreciation for the delightful mix of human need and divine intervention.

Marley: Thanks again, Cec! God Bless! And to our readers, please be sure to pick up a copy of CHRISTMAS MIRACLES, out October 13, 2009 from St. Martin’s Press. It’s a great stocking stuffer or gift basket filler. We hope you, too, will discover your own Christmas Miracles in your life.

Marley Gibson is a young adult author whose first published books in the Sorority 101 series were released by Penguin Group in 2008 under the pen name of Kate Harmon. She has a new Ghost Huntress series with Houghton Mifflin written under her own name. She can be found online at www.marleygibson.com.

Leave a comment for a chance to win the Christmas Miracles gift basket.

Wouldn’t you love to take home this amazing basket filled with Christmas goodies galore? This amazing gift basket contains everything you’ll need to make your Christmas holiday a success. Inside you’ll find a stocking stuffed with hard candies, kitchen towels and oven mitts, seasonal potpourri, holiday-colored candles, stuffed animals that talk, snowman candle, nutcrackers, Christmas ornaments, gift bags, gift tags, gift bows, ornament hangers, Christmas cookie cutters, a Merry Christmas doorstopper, a picture frame, Christmas cards, Santa ear muffs, and not just one, but two copies of Cecil Murphey and Marley Gibson’s Christmas Miracles – one to keep and one to give away to someone special.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Heal this!

2009-10-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

This is a different blog for me. Not so formatted and well thought out. I guess I am using it for a public blast! And that it is. I am so worn out with anti-Christian rhetoric when I post some of the basic beliefs: God is real; Jesus is real; the Bible is truth; HEALING happens...

Why do views about other belief systems go unscathed but Christianity gets shot at with fervor? Why is it so hard for logical, intelligent people to believe in the Bible, therefore believing in God, therefore believing in Jesus, therefore believing in salvation?

Love the critics replies: Christians are phonies; they sin anyway; they drive fancy cars and have a lot of money (some of them just like the rest of the population); Christians are always judging me; and bla bla bla...

I am a Christian. I do not BELONG to a certain CHURCH. I belong to a group of peculiar people, as the Word says, who want to live for Christ to bring good to the world and peace where there is none. I will blow it. I will make mistakes. I will get angry. I will make someone mad.

But for all those who are so intelligent they explain away Jesus and the Word and HEALING I say, "You haven't needed a healing bad enough so that when you received it, you knew it had to be a divine healing." And that is a good thing for YOU. But I have been at death's door so many times, that healings stand out in a big way for me.

I was HEALED on Sunday, October 11, 2009. There, I said it. How? For two months I suffered with extreme fatigue and sleepiness. Along with multiple other medical problems, this made for a bad addition to my list. It makes it harder to get through the day, exercise, carry on my life, stick myself with two IV needles every other day, take 30 pills each day, go to doc appts every week, diet, think, live...

Every test was done until one doc discovered I have a kind of narcolepsy. That was until Sunday past.

I went to church with a bad attitude. I was tired and wanted to stay home and sleep. I could go to bed at 10:00 pm and not wake up until 10:00 am the next day. I was angry and attitudal. "God, I want You to heal me--today or at least by Monday afternoon." Oh the thoughts stung my innermost soul. Who was I to demand a healing?

Right after the music, the service was supposed to start, but an elder, Leo, felt the need to have all the elders come to the front of the church and let people come up for prayer for healing or anything else. Only a few people went up--it wasn't even 15 minutes into the service. No fancy Word moved anyone to prayer or repentance. No spiritual message worked anyone up into a life-changing need.

But a voice in my head told me to put aside my pride, anger, rebellion, and attitude and go up for prayer. And the Lord told me who to go to.

I walked up, crying before I got there. I had to let go and stop fighting like I had any kind of power over my life. Maurice and his wife Cheryl prayed for me. Maurice spoke in words I knew were from the Lord. We cried and hugged. I was healed.

I went back to my seat. No one noticed. The service went on.

Leo walked past me. He had no idea what had just happened. But glancing quickly, he said, "Your healing is coming."

That was Sunday. Monday was okay. But by Tuesday, yesterday, I woke up with the sun, had plenty of energy, helped my husband, John, with the inside painting project I could only watch from the couch, worked on stuff, made dinner, and felt so much better! I WAS HEALED!

So there. Call it what you want. No explanation. I have been healed MANY TIMES throughout the past eight years of life-threatening illness. Doctors cannot explain away any of the healings medically. Most of my doctors now accept God is healing me--they can find no other reason for things that have happened.

FIGHT all you want against peace through Jesus. Tell me if you are truly at peace with your life and future. Then again, don't tell me if you think you can convince me to change my beliefs. I know what works. I live in Him every day.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

When God Turned Off the Lights

2009-09-28T10:08:00.000-07:00

What to Do When the Lights Go Out

by Cec Murphey

If you sincerely desire to follow Jesus Christ, life won't always be easy. Many times the Bible promises victory, and you may need to remind yourself that there can be no victory without struggling and overcoming obstacles.

In my book, I used the image of God turning out the lights because that was how I perceived the situation. I felt as if I walked in darkness for 18 months. We all interact differently with God, and my experience won't be the same as yours. Even so, most serious Christians have times when God seems to turn away or stops listening. And we feel alone.

Perhaps it's like the time the Israelites cried out to God for many years because of the Egyptian oppression. "God heard their groaning, and he remembered his covenant promise...and knew it was time to act" (Exodus 2:24 NLT). God hadn't forgotten, of course, but from their perspective, that's how it must have seemed. It may seem like that to you if you're going through your own form of darkness.

Here are a few suggestions to help you:

1. Ask God this simple question: "Have I knocked out the lights by my failures? Have I sinned against you? After you ask the question, listen. Give God the opportunity to speak to you.

2. Don't see this as divine punishment (unless God shows you it is), but consider the silence an act of divine love to move you forward. This is God's method to teach you and stretch you.

3. Avoid asking why. You don't need reasons and explanations--and you probably won't get them anyway. Instead, remind yourself that this temporary darkness is to prepare you for greater light.

4. Say as little as possible to your friends. Most friends will want to "fix" you or heal you and they can't. They may offer advice (often not helpful) or make you feel worse ("Are you sure everything is right between you and God?").

5. Stay with the "means of grace." That is, don't neglect worship with other believers even if you feel empty. Read your Bible even if you can't find anything meaningful.

I chose to read Lamentations and Psalms (several times, especially Lamentations) because they expressed some of the pain and despair I felt.

6. If you don't have a daily prayer time, start one. Perhaps something as short as three minutes--and do it daily. Talk honestly to God. It's all right to get angry. (Read the Psalms if you're hesitant.)

7. Remind yourself, "I am in God's hands. This is where I belong and I'll stay in the blackout until I'm ready to move forward."

8. Pray these words daily: "But who can discern their own errors? Forgive my hidden faults" (Psalm 19:12 TNIV). Some versions say "secret sins." These are failures and sins of which you may not yet be aware. One of the purposes of your darkness may be to bring those hidden problems to light.

9. Ask God, "What do you want me to learn from this experience?" You may not get an answer, but it's still a good question. Continue to ask--even after the lights go back on again. If you're open, you will learn more about yourself and also about God.

10. As you receive "light" about yourself while walking in darkness, remind yourself, God has always known and still loves me.

When God Turned Off the Lights

Author Cec Murphey

About the Author: Award-winning writer Cecil Murphey is the author or co-author of more than 100 books, including the "New York Times" bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven (with Don Piper) and Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story (with Dr. Ben Carson). He's also the author of When Someone You Love Has Cancer and Christmas Miracles, both 2009 releases. Murphey's books have sold millions and have brought hope and encouragement to countless people around the world.

Is it possible that God would use a time of spiritual loneliness and isolation in our life as an answer to our prayer for "something more?" That's what happened with best-selling author Cecil Murphey. In When God Turned Off the Lights (Regal, September 2009), he openly shares from his journey that seemed to be stalled in darkness.

Murphey decided to write about his months of seeking God in the darkness because he suspected his situation wasn't unique. "If this happened to me, a rather ordinary believer, surely there are others out there who have wept in the isolated blackness of night and wondered if they would ever see God's smile again."

Murphey could have handled this topic as a theologian and given pages of heavy, hard-to-read advice, but he chose to write from his heart and expose it for the readers to see. He talks honestly and shares his skepticism and frustration. He asks hard questions. And he lays out the steps of healing that brought him back to the light.

When God Turned Off the Lights is a book for those of us who ask, "What's wrong with me? Why are others living in the sunlight while nothing but dark clouds and darkness envelop me?" Readers will learn:

Why God turns off the lights
Why we have to have dark nights
Why asking "why" isn't the right question
What's worse than going through the darkness
How to feel worthwhile and accepted by God

Each chapter of When God Turned Off the Lights ends with an inspirational personal quote from Cec. Here's a sampling:

Although it may seem as if God is asleep when we go through deep darkness, could it be that God is most watchful in the moments of our despair?

Could it be that moving from why to what might take us one more step closer to the light?

Our task is to hang on. We wait until God takes us off hold and deals directly with us again.

God's provision is based on unconditional love - not on my faithfulness.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

The Truth Shall Put You in Jail

2009-09-17T10:06:00.000-07:00

The recent headline in The Washington Times reads “School prayer charges stir protests” stating a Florida school principal and an athletic director are facing criminal charges and up to six months in jail over a mealtime prayer at Pace High School.

The Pace High School teacher’s handbook asks teachers to “embrace every opportunity to inculcate, by precept and example, the practice of every Christian virtue.” So why has a Federal judge imposed this inane threat—and why has he been allowed to begin this assault on our freedoms without the checks and balances of a democracy?

90 miles south of Florida, Guantanamo Bay houses many of the worst terrorists who have waged a bloody war on the US. Their hatred for Americans is beyond measure.

But their “right” to hold daily prayers is accommodated in this Cuban facility with every detail attended to. On the United States Department of Defense website, http://www.defenselink.mil/home/features/gitmo/facilities.html pictures are posted showing arrows painted on the floor in many rooms, pointing the direction to Mecca, the Islam holy city, so the detainees know which way to face when the call to prayer sounds. The call to prayer is broadcast five times a day. During the broadcast, a yellow traffic cone, with a big "P" stenciled on it, is placed at the center of each cell block. This cone signals the guards must be silent while the detainees are praying.

The Establishment Clause in the First Amendment of the United States Constitution does not mention anything about a "separation between church and state." This phrase came about through a letter written by President Jefferson to the Danbury Connecticut Baptist Association in January of 1802.

The First Amendment of the Constitution reads, "Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." These words established that government would not stand for either an official religion or restrictions on the freedom to practice any such religion.

History shows that the practice of “Christianity” is found to be offensive and unlawful in the majority of religious disputes. Many religious institutions such as Islam, Buddhist, Hinduism, Sikhism, and others are respected and exalted in public and state settings.

Frank Zappa, a forceful but invisible critic of mainstream education and organized religion, was a little known supporter for freedom of speech and the abolition of censorship. Regardless of the famous musician's insane lifestyle and flare for far out living, he made a succinct statement: “The United States is a nation of laws: badly written and randomly enforced.”

A lone Federal judge single handedly makes a bad call on a gray constitutional particle—that should make all Americans stand up and roar with objection.

Why Christians? Jesus is controversial. Christianity is seen as a threat. Prayer—to the one true God, stirs up arguments and brings offensive dispute.

Truth carries the sting of hysteria to people who fear their own lies.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Love Knows No Color

2009-08-11T11:09:00.000-07:00

When Obama got elected to be our next president, I had a cousin in Italy write me to congratulate my country on such a bold and updated result. Mixed feelings came with the realization that our new president had many controversial ideas and beliefs. I will not get into a political match here. But I will make an observation many must talk about but is never heard about in the media. Obama is black.

Call his ethnicity what you want--his skin is darker than all the other presidents. Why does that matter?

It makes a difference for me. I am so worn out from discrimination due to ethnic background and color of one's skin. What a moronic race we are from the beginning of time to assume that appearance is an indicator of a person's worth or abilities.

In the Old Testament book of 1 Samuel, chapter 16, Samuel makes a judgment on appearances:

⁶ When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, "Surely the LORD's anointed stands here before the LORD." ⁷ But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

Matthew Henry's Consise Commentary on the Bible says this:

"It was strange that Samuel, who had been so disappointed in Saul, whose countenance and stature recommended him, should judge of another man by that rule. We can tell how men look, but God can tell what they are. He judges of men by the heart. We often form a mistaken judgment of characters; but the Lord values only the faith, fear, and love, which are planted in the heart, beyond human discernment. And God does not favour our children according to our fond partiality, but often most honours and blesses those who have been least regarded."

I live in a city where African-American residents are scarce. It bothers me. I don't want to be a partaker in any kind of discrimination. I hate that my area is deemed "white." I have written several commentaries in our local newspaper regarding the presence of Aryan Nation groups and praised the runners in our popular race, Bloomsday--winners always being from Africa. They cross the finish lines, sleek, dark, tall bodies with arms raised high.

When Obama got elected, I proclaimed that television and media would take on a more balanced appearance--more black people appearing in commercials and TV shows. It is happening. I am so glad to see the ratio of peoples in the spotlight coming to a more even keeled percentage.

Modern America? How modern can we be and intelligent when discrimination still permeates every city.

Argue what you want about our president. Takes sides. Hate his policy. Fight to have him rid of. But I am glad to see his color skin reflecting out to the world. America the beautiful...

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

2009-07-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

When Someone You Love Has Cancer

Author: Cecil Murphey
Harvest House Publishers
ISBN: 978-0-7369-2428-3
Retail: $10.99

About the Book:

The World Health Organization reported that by the year 2010 cancer will be the number one killer worldwide. More than 12.4 million people in the world suffer from cancer. 7.6 million people are expected to die from some form of cancer. That's a lot of people, but the number of loved ones of cancer sufferers is far greater. What do they do when a special person in their life is diagnosed with this devastating disease?

Murphey brings his experiences as a loved one and many years of wisdom gained from being a pastor and hospital chaplain to his newest book When Someone You Love Has Cancer: Comfort and Encouragement for Caregivers and Loved Ones (Harvest House Publishers). His honest I've-been-there admissions and practical helps are combined with artist Michal Sparks' soothing watercolor paintings.

Readers of When Someone You Love Has Cancer will receive:

Inspiration to seek peace and understanding in their loved one's situation
Help in learning the importance of active listening
Guidance in exploring their own feelings of confusion and unrest
Suggestions on how to handle anxiety and apprehension
Honest answers to questions dealing with emotions, exhaustion, and helplessness
Spirit-lifting thoughts for celebrating the gift of life in the midst of troubles
Murphey explains why this is a much-needed book: "Most books about cancer address survivors. I want to speak to the mates, families, and friends who love those with cancer. I offer a number of simple, practical things people can do for those with cancer."

Interview Questions

1. The first sentence of your book reads, "I felt helpless." Tell us about that feeling.

Because her doctor put Shirley into the high-risk category, I felt helpless. To me, helpless means hating the situation, wanting to make it better, but admitting there was nothing I could do for her.

2. On that same page you also write, "One thing we learned: God was with us and strengthened us through the many weeks of uncertainty and pain." How did you get from feeling helpless to that assurance?

Shirley and I sat down one day and I put my arm around her. "The only way I know how I can handle this," I said, "is to talk about it." Shirley knows that's my way of working through puzzling issues. "Let's consider every possibility." If her surgeon decided she did not have breast cancer, how would we react? We talked of our reaction if he said, "There is a tumor and it's obviously benign. Finally, I was able to say, with tears in my eyes, "How do we react if he says the cancer is advanced and you have only a short time to live?" By the time we talked answered that question, I was crying. Shirley had tears in her eyes, but remained quite calm. "I'm ready to go whenever God wants to take me," she said. She is too honest not to have meant those words. As I searched her face, I saw calmness and peace. I held her tightly and we prayed together. After that I felt calm. Since then, one of the first things I do when I awaken is to thank God that Shirley and I have at least one more day together.
3. When most people hear the word cancer applied to someone they love, they have strong emotional reactions. What are some of them? What was your reaction when your wife was diagnosed with breast cancer?

As a pastor, a volunteer chaplain, and a friend I've encountered virtually every emotional reaction. Some refuse to accept what they hear. Some go inward and are unable to talk. Others start making telephone calls to talk to friends. Me? I went numb, absolutely numb. That was my old way of dealing with overwhelming emotions. I heard everything but I couldn't feel anything. It took me almost two weeks before I was able to feel--and to face the possibility that the person I loved most in the world might die.

4. "What can I do for my loved one with cancer?" That's a good question for us to ask ourselves. How can we be supportive and helpful?

Many think they need to do big things; they don't. Express your concern and your love. Be available to talk when the other person needs it--and be even more willing to be silent if your loved one doesn't want to talk. Don't ask what you can do; do what you see needs doing. To express loving support in your own way (and we all express love differently) is the best gift you can offer.

5. Why do you urge people not to say, "I know exactly how you feel"?

No one knows how you feel. They may remember how they felt at a certain time. Even if they did know, what help is that to the person with cancer? It's like saying, "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I know what it's like and I'm fine now." Instead, focus on how the loved one feels. Let him or her tell you.

6. Those with cancer suffer physically and spiritually. You mention God's silence as a form of spiritual suffering. They pray and don't seem to sense God. What can you do to help them?

God is sometimes silent but that doesn't mean God is absent. In my upcoming book, When God Turns off the Lights, I tell what it was like for me when God stopped communicating for about 18 months. I didn't like it and I was angry. I didn't doubt God's existence, but I didn't understand the silence. I read Psalms and Lamentations in various translations. I prayed and I did everything I could, but nothing changed. After a couple of months, I realized that I needed to accept the situation and wait for God to turn on the lights again. Each day I quoted Psalm 13:1: "O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way?" (NLT) I learned many invaluable lessons about myself--and I could have learned them only in the darkness. When God turns off the lights (and the sounds) I finally realized that instead of God being angry, it was God's loving way to draw me closer.

7. Guilt troubles many friends and loved ones of caregivers because they feel they failed or didn't do enough. What can you say to help them?

We probably fail our loved ones in some ways. No one is perfect. If you feel that kind of guilt, I suggest 3 things: (1) Tell the loved one and ask forgiveness. (2) Talk to God and ask God to forgive you and give you strength not to repeat your failures. (3) Forgive yourself. And one way to do that is to say, "At the time, I thought I did the right thing. I was wrong and I forgive myself." 8. Do you have some final words of wisdom for those giving care to a loved one with cancer? Be available. You can't take away the cancer but you can alleviate the sense of aloneness. Don't ever try to explain the reason the person has cancer. We don't know the reason and even if we did, would it really help the other person? Be careful about what you say. Too often visitors and friends speak from their own discomfort and forget about the pain of the one with cancer. Don't tell them about your cancer or other disease; don't tell them horror stories about others. Above all, don't give them false words of comfort. Be natural. Be yourself. Behave as loving as you can.

A Word from The Man Behind the Words

When Shirley walked in from the garage, she didn't have to say a word: I read the diagnosis in her eyes. I grabbed her and held her tightly for several seconds. When I released her, she didn't cry. The unshed tears glistened, but that was all. I felt emotionally paralyzed and helpless, and I couldn't understand my reaction. After all, I was a professional. As a former pastor and volunteer hospital chaplain I had been around many cancer patients. I'd seen people at their lowest and most vulnerable. As a writing instructor, I helped one woman write her cancer-survival book. Shirley and I had been caregivers for Shirley's older sister for months before she died of colon cancer. All of that happened before cancer became personal to me--before my wife learned she needed a mastectomy. To make it worse, Shirley was in the high-risk category because most of her blood relatives had died of some form of cancer. Years earlier, she had jokingly said, "In our family we grow things." In the days after the diagnosis and before her surgery, I went to a local bookstore and to the public library. I found dozens of accounts, usually by women, about their battle and survival. I pushed aside the novels that ended in a person's death. A few books contained medical or technical information. I searched on-line and garnered useful information--but I found nothing that spoke to me on how to cope with the possible loss of the person I loved most in this world. Our story ends happily: Shirley has started her tenth year as a cancer survivor. Not only am I grateful, but I remember my pain and confusion during those days. That concerns me enough to reach out to others who also feel helpless as they watch a loved one face the serious diagnosis of cancer. That's why I wrote When Someone You Love Has Cancer. I want to encourage relatives and friends and also to offer practical suggestions as they stay at the side of those they love. The appendix offers specific things for them to do and not to do--and much of that information came about because of the way people reacted around us. It's a terrible situation for anyone to have cancer; it's a heavy burden for us who deeply love those with cancer. by Cecil Murphey

About the Author:

Cecil Murphey is an international speaker and bestselling author who has written more than 100 books, including the New York Times bestseller 90 Minutes in Heaven (with Don Piper). No stranger himself to loss and grieving, Cecil has served as a pastor and hospital chaplain for many years, and through his ministry and books he has brought hope and encouragement to countless people around the world. For more information, visit http://www.themanbehindthewords.com/.

Something Extra!

Cec designed the appendix to be the most practical part of the book. He's witnessed too many situations where genuinely caring people had no idea what to do, so he has tried to givea few general guidelines.

1. Before you offer help. Learn about the disease before you visit. Determine to accept their feelings, no matter how negative. Pray for your loved one before you visit. Don't throw religious slogans at them, such as, "This is God's will" or "God knew you were strong enough to handle this."

2. What you can do now. As the first question, don't ask, "How are you?" Instead, ask, "Do you feel like talking." Don't offer advice. Be willing to sit in silence. If you need to cry, do so. Be natural. If appropriate, hug your loved one. Human touch is powerful.

3. Long-term caregiving. The overarching principle is to let the seriousness of the disease determine the amount of time and commitment you offer. This can be a time for you to help them spiritually. Think about tangible things you can do that say you care. Plan celebrations for every anniversary of being cancer free.

Ask them reflective questions such as:

What have you discovered about yourself through this experience?
What have you learned about relationships?
How has your faith in God changed?

Discipline!

2009-06-29T13:16:00.000-07:00

It’s the 40th anniversary of Disney’s epic movie, The Jungle Book. When my son was growing up, it was one of our fondest videos to watch together. We often walked around the house quoting our favorite lines.

When Mowgli (the man cub) runs away and Bagheera (the black panther) is trying to convince Col. Hati (elephant’s father) to look for him, Hati lines up his troops and instructs them in the art of military form. His trunk held high, he commands “Discipline!”

“Discipline!” became one of the most famous lines in our house. I used it often when I needed my son to buck up and get things done. The cuteness of it could soften the harshest commands.

Most children and adults do not like the word discipline. But it doesn’t have to be a negative word. Discipline can be freeing and it can bring good to people who practice it.

Recently, in the news, reports were out that health care and prevention can cost more than treating actual medical conditions. This is true only if the preventive care must entail detailed and closely monitored compliance from “un” disciplined patients.

People who practice preventive care and healthy lifestyles do not need programs to educate and motivate them.

I know. I have heart disease (unprovoked), diabetes (genetic), suffered years of surgery on my heart, cancer, broken bones, and a heart transplant four years ago. I am only 48 years old.

Before I got sick, I was a normal weight, never smoked, ate healthy, and exercised regularly at home and by enjoying outdoor activities.

Bad genes stole my health.

Now it takes me 20 hours a week minimum to keep my health in check. It’s a lot of work and discipline to monitor levels, take medications, refill prescriptions, make doctor appointments, have preventive testing and treatments, exercise enough, eat right, deal with insurance claims, nurses, billing, etc. But if I don’t do what it takes to stay on top of my health, I will suffer the repercussions of bad health and my lifestyle would be drastically inhibited.

By doing the right thing, I am free to enjoy my life after I get the maintenance part done. I have enough energy to enjoy the things I love to do and be there to help others who need a hand.

Health care starts with individual people. Denial and excuses don’t work. Doctors are not gods and aren’t there to fix everything for everyone.

It’s the same for Christians and their relationship with the Lord. Pastors are here to feed God’s people.

“And I will give you pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding” (Jeremiah 3:15 KJV).

Pastors are not gods. They aren’t here to fix broken people or give answers to life’s problems. They are here to teach and feed and gather.

Christians are responsible to read the Word of God, pray, and study on their own. It takes discipline and will produce a fruitful, balanced, healthy life.

“Discipline!” your physical and spiritual health to live life the way God intended—in abundance and with joy.

Visit me at http://www.cindyscinto.com

Guest Blogger

2009-06-22T21:09:00.000-07:00

Multiple Streams of Contentment

By Karen Whiting

My mother didn't smile on my wedding day. She spent the day overwhelmed with sadness although she loved me and loved my fiancé. He was everything she wanted in a husband for me. The wedding stayed within budget and everything went off fairly smoothly. My extended family all attended, everyone got along, and tried to cheer her up. Yet, my wedding photos will always show her sad expression.

The day before the wedding my mentally handicapped brother had lost his little job of waiting on tables at a school cafeteria. Although social workers could easily place him in a new position, mom remained discontented and focused on that problem the entire day. She made the mistake of magnifying one problem, so that it robbed her of joy on such a happy occasion.

Many people let one problem override all the blessings in their lives. It steals their contentment. They forget to trust their anxieties to God and rejoice in the blessings he has given them.

Some people fixate on something until it changes their personality and fills them with negative emotions that spill out in sin. Herodias, in Matthew 14, is an example of a person whose discontent led to a life of sin. She had a husband but chose the sin of adultery. She must have been discontent with her husband. She felt more discontent at hearing John the Baptist speak of repentance and point out her sin. That led to her plotting the murder of John the Baptist. She trampled over people and even used her beautiful daughter to get her way. She ignored John's calls to repent, the one action that would have healed her heart and given her joy. Her bad choice snowballed into disaster for many.

In contrast, Paul spoke about contentment, in Philippians four, and said that he had learned to be content in prosperous circumstances and impoverished situations. His circumstances could not rob him of his joy or peace. It is very seldom that every detail in life is perfect because we live in a fallen world, but we can make choices that help us remain content despite our circumstances.

My mother finally discovered how to be content after a stroke left her partially paralyzed. She started to listen as we expressed gratitude for her life and what she could still do. When she complained that she could no longer do crafts, I mentioned that with her good hand she could write letters, a lost art, to grandchildren away at college and to her friends. She struggled to use a walker and spent much of her time in a wheelchair, but she spent time thanking God for her blessings of family, the patient care-giving of my father, the use of one hand, and a new ministry of writing letters of encouragement to family and friends. She realized that joy came as she filled her life with multiple streams of contentment.

Viewing all the different blessings in life is like seeing many streams that flow into an ocean or a lake. If one stream dries up, others keep flowing. One stream of contentment we can create is to do something for others. It gives us purpose. List your abilities and talents and consider ways to use them to bless others.

God is a giver of blessings. We learn in James 1:16-17, Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. Blessings from God may be in the form of friends, financial security, a home, health, pets, clothing, and food. The meeting of our basic needs is a gift. Each one of these can become a stream filled with blessings. So let the abundance of gratitude for blessings flow into your heart. Consider each aspect of life as a different stream. There is always one stream that is bubbling up with blessings to fill your life with contentment.

In Philippians four, Paul provides wisdom regarding contentment: he urges people to live in harmony, rejoice in the Lord, and give anxieties to God in prayer. He encourages people to let their minds dwell on positive thoughts, stating that we should think about what is true, lovely, honorable, pure, true, and anything excellent. Positive thoughts help our emotions flow in an optimistic direction. To do this, list the blessings in each stream of life.

Spiritual streams include a relationship with Jesus, prayer, church family, Christian music, Bible study, and church fellowship.

Relational streams include family, friends, faith friends, co-workers, acquaintances, and new people we meet.

Blessings in daily life include past memories, pleasant thoughts, encouraging words, compliments, accomplishments, laughter, and smiles.

In creating the world, God also created beauty to provide natural streams of contentment filled with beautiful sunsets and sunrises, wonders of nature, blossoms, gentle breezes, showers that cause the earth to spring forth in color, and creatures that scurry and fly about.

After listing the positives, praise God for each one. Thank God for each friend and every little circumstance that is going well.

Then list past prayer requests that God answered. Thank God again for each response. Then add any new prayer needs. It's easier to trust God and give away worries when you recall the past times when God met your needs.

To prevent the flow of blessings from drying up, of being blocked as a dam blocks a river's flow, spend time nurturing the streams. Paul's contentment continued in prison and despite hardships. He nurtured his relationships. He continually prayed and wrote letters. He sent greetings to friends and encouraged his companions and fellow-workers with praise. Paul's later years stood in stark contrast to the discontented man who watched alone, as his soldiers stoned Stephen (Acts 7:58-8:3). They placed Stephen's cloak at Paul's feet. It's a lonely image of someone isolated from others. He made threats from the anger of discontentment and asked others to write letters for him, letters to imprison Christians. As a Christian, he viewed the blessings in life as gifts from God and knew the joy of friendships.

Paul developed a network of friends everywhere he traveled. And he encouraged his friends to live in harmony and stay focused on their relationship with Jesus. Paul's letters to Timothy urge Timothy to continue his relationship with God, to visit him, and to fill his life with loving actions.

Paul's wise words offer ways to keep the streams flowing. First, continue in your relationship with God. Do not let blockage occur from sin. His letters encourage people to keep the relationship with God right and strong. He sang songs in jail and praised God in the midst of trials. Secondly, work at relationships. Keep in touch with people, invite them to visit, praise them and express gratitude for their friendship. Paul generated streams in lives of others. Paul had discovered the truth of Jesus' words in John 7:38, "Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.

My mother suffered from cancer in the final months of her life. When she called to say she had cancer I asked, "Mom, are you ready to go home to the Lord?" She said, " Yes." I could hear joy in her voice in spite of pain that filled her body. My children put together little care packages and wrapped up a tiny treasure to open each day. They made little crafts, wrote cards, wrapped photos, and taped messages. She smiled at each little gift. She had something positive to look forward to each day. My father, her husband of fifty years, read Scriptures at her request. She nurtured the streams.

My mentally handicapped brother had to be coaxed to visit her. He didn't think mom would know him because she was so near death. As he entered the room I asked, "Mom, do you know who is here." She almost yelled, something very difficult for her to do and said, "Johnny. I hear Johnny." That melted Johnny's heart and he stayed by her side for the afternoon, holding a cup and straw for her to sip water. She thanked him. She had learned to work at the relationships even when it became most difficult.

Until her final hours my mother did not feel pain. As she passed on to heaven, my dad and some siblings surrounded her. My mother had learned an important truth: streams of contentment can be a powerful force to ease pain, change our perspective, and create peace in our hearts.

About the Author:

A creative person with creative solutions- that's Karen Whiting! She has a heart for busy women and desires to help them free up time for what God has truly called them to do in relationships and ministry. She challenges listeners to discover ways to connect, serve, and treasure one another.

Karen found time to follow God's call to write even while she and husband, Jim moved around the US and raised their five children. They currently live on Maryland's eastern shore and are new grandparents.

An author of ten books for women, families and children, Karen writes to creatively strengthen families. Her articles have appeared in dozens of magazines, including Focus on the Family, Today's Christian Woman, Christian Parenting Today, and Parent Life. Karen has been named Who's Who of American Women, Who's Who in the World, and Professional Speakers Network member of the year award. Karen has been a guest on numerous radio shows and hosted the educational television series Puppets on Parade. With humor and inspiration, Karen loves to encourage women to nurture their relationships and family life.

Find out more about Karen at her website http://www.karenwhiting.com/

To schedule Karen for a speaking event or interview, please contact Kathy Carlton Willis Communications at WillisWay@aol.com or check out http://kcwcomm.blogspot.com/ .