I don’t have cabin fever, yet.

That’s a good thing, for somebody who craves activity. I’m only alone in a physical sense. Maybe it has something to do with prayer. And angels, but I’ll get to that, later.

I stayed home most of January to avoid the flu, and wore a mask when out. I even skipped COURAGE & Cancer, and missed seeing everyone there. The good thing is, I’m part of a team and others did a great job.

I’m on a new oral chemotherapy. The good thing is, my white cell count is back to normal, so my system should be better at fending off germs.

The bad thing is, this medicine drops my red cell count, so I have less energy. I notice it most at night, when irritation sets in (I’m sure Jim does, too).

Another bad thing is hand-and-foot syndrome, caused by the chemo. It’s like having sunburn on my soles and palms, made worse by friction. Weird, right? Some days, but not all, it’s like walking in sizzling sand.

The good thing is, I take chemo pills daily, every other week. That gives me time to recuperate. But, does it give cancer time to rejuvenate? Then I think, that’s fear talking.

A wise friend says the world won’t crumble, but we might, if we don’t take time for a respite. The good thing is, I’m content being home this winter, writing in solitude.

The bad thing is, my husband went to New York City for a total shoulder replacement, which went exceptionally well, except I couldn’t accompany him. Our brother-in-law did, which was a wonderful thing.

One morning, I awoke to a line from “The Lord of the Dance” running through my mind: “It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.”

After fixing tea, I reached for my daily prayer book. It fell open to the wrong date, where I saw this, highlighted in yellow on the page before me:

“It’s hard to dance with the devil on your back.”

Hmm.

A friend said she stood at her kitchen sink that same morning and felt an urge to tell the devil, be gone. Then another gal and I took a country ride and she mentioned Satan seems busier than ever. As if I needed poked, someone who dropped by said we need help recognizing the enemy’s craftiness.

Believe me, these aren’t everyday conversations. I felt heaven cautioning me: “Be attentive.” And I am. I don’t expect a devil behind every tree, but am more on guard these days to things beyond my sight.

By now, some folks have left this blog for some more sensible activity, like almost anything. (I probably would too!) But the truth is, we’ve all felt the aftermath of evil. Like the aftershocks of an earthquake, the tremors we feel tell us something is off kilter.

The good thing is, forces for good are deligent behind the scenes, too.

In his book “Angels, God’s Secret Agents,” Billy Graham wrote, “Think of it! Whether we see them or not, God has created a vast host of angels to help accomplish his work in the world… we can have confidence his angels watch over us and assist us, because we belong to him.”

If we buy into that (and I do), it means angels battle on our behalf. Years ago, a friend and I created and taught a class on angels. It convinced me they’re on our side, standing against the darkness.

Ephesians 6 is well worth a read. It says in part, “. . . be strong in the Lord and his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so you can stand against the schemes of the devil . . . keep this in mind, stay alert, and keep praying for the Lord’s people.”

We have a role in this drama. Prayer is part of our spiritual armor. So are the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation, sturdy shoes of peace, a belt of truth buckled in place, the shield of faith—however battered—and the sharp sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

Either you believe opposing forces are in spiritual conflict, or you don’t. I’m not expecting to change your mind. Someone, though, needs this message, someone attempting to open a window of hope.

I have hope because I believe good ultimately wins. That was sealed when Jesus said, “It is finished.” The cross was the worst thing in history, but those three words cry victory over evil.

These are great mysteries. We don’t have to understand it all for God’s peace to reign in our lives. . . and that’s a very good thing.

All will be well.

Texting Thru Recovery/Indiana Gazette