Our Weekend

The conversation happened over breakfast.
"There's some blood in my urine this morning," he announced simply
over a plate of eggs and potatoes.
"I will probably need to call the doctor.
Too bad it's the weekend.
These things always happen on the weekends when offices are closed."

A little blood?
The bathroom betrayed his nonchalance.
There was clotted blood everywhere!
on the toilet
the floor
the walls
his clothing.

We made the call and headed to the nearest emergency clinic.
more blood
great pain
as nurses struggled to stabilize him.
They said, "It's the proton therapy he received for cancer.
We see this all the time -
clots in the bladder.
Go home and see the doctor on Monday."

But things worsened in the afternoon:
massive blood loss
terrible pain
extreme discomfort
anger and frustration

We called the doctor again.
The one who responded was smart-alecky.
"That's it!" we thought
and frantically headed for MD Anderson.

Saints!
The Anderson people are saints all right.
They inserted IV fluids and calmed us down.
We waited.

Once cancer strikes, life changes.
It shakes its finger and makes threats.
The predator lurks
and waits
and can pounce unexpectedly
altering every plan.

Speeding through the dark night the questions came:
Is this the time?
Is this the beginning of the end?
Will we have the faith to endure this with grace?

It turned out to be a simple infection easily treated with antibiotics.
a best case scenario.
We limped home, exhausted.

Cancer comes with many gifts,
not just expert doctors and compassionate nurses
who do the work of miracles in alleviating pain and suffering.

The gift for us was the emotional and physical care from our children.
Sweet and concerned Emi, involved and texting from Chicago
Trevor, dear Trevor,
with us through it all
and Kim, our beloved Kim.
They stayed with us for hours deep in the night,
slept at our house
then picked up Forrest and brought him home the next morning.
They bought prescriptions for antibiotics
and stayed with us all day.
Even our granddaughter Emilie came.

In the midst of all the scary stuff
their presence was the face of Christ.
We were blessed.
We are blessed.

I know one day we shall all leave this earth.
Our departure may indeed involve a lot of fear
and pain and suffering.
We don't get to choose how we exit.

But this little scare showed me how much God is with us,
even during this time when we have no faith community.
Our children will help us make good decisions.
Like God, they will be there.
And knowing that makes all the difference.

Pondering with Mary, the Mother of Jesus

Gene Brodt charmed us all with his memorable quotes and storytelling.
One day he fell.
It was the beginning of the end for him.
He eventually landed in a nursing home,
and I brought him communion every month.

One day he conversed at length with the elderly woman I had brought with me,
ignoring me in the process.
He apologized.
"Please forgive me," he said.
"I'm an old man.
Everything has been taken away now, even my health.
All I have left are the memories, and they comfort me.
When someone shows up who shares the same memories, it is pure bliss."

Remembering him, I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Mary cherished her memories, treasured them, pondered them in her heart.
Surely they gave her strength in the dark days,
recalling how God showed up and blessed her child through the shepherds.
Maybe she thought, "If God was with us then, then God must be with us now."
The memories brought hope and faith
that something fresh and wonderful would eventually unfold.

So how did God show up for me this season?
I slowed down, way down.
I didn't feel responsible for seeing Christmas brought to an entire community.
I enjoyed it, savored it.
At times I thought my heart would burst with joy.

And now like Mary, I have the memories although they are very different from hers:
Sister Mary grounding me in Scripture and faith
Evanston with my daughter and all three of my grandchildren
Magical shopping trips and gingerbread.
Fabulous music there!
Sam Ramey's "O Holy Night" still rings in my ears.
cards and greetings from friends and Facebook
How I love Facebook!
The candlelight service at Heritage with trumpet and cello.
Special time with Forrest, Cindy, Trevor, Kim and Emilie.
beautiful, wonderful gifts chosen and made with such loving care
and feeling so very loved.
leisure
a new excitement over art
enjoying my pretty home with no more leaks.

Like Mary, I feel blessed among women,
although unlike her, it's been a pretty self indulgent season.
At some point God will move me forward into fresh ministry.
I feel it.
But for now, I sit with Mary, the mother of Jesus
and ponder all these things within my heart
And later they will strengthen me for whatever comes ahead.

Christmas Eve 2012

The beginning of Advent is always reflective for me.
I watch.
I wait.
I prepare for the birth of something new
and life changing
and holy within me.
Advent has more to do with the inner landscape than the outward manisfestation.

At some point joy enters my heart.
It never fails.
It comes as gift
and turns me in a different direction.

I know there is terrible suffering in the world.
Some days it is hard not to be felled by it.
I carry it too closely in my heart.
If I'm not careful I forget
that the Christian message is joy, even in suffering
even in the midst of illness and hardship of every kind.

Beneath the sorrow lies a golden thread.
God is at work lighting the darkness.
When I am still and when I remember, I tap into that.
My soul is strengthened and blessed.
Only then can I turn to face the world with love.

To me, this is the gift of Christmas,
God's coming to us in stillness
in a most unexpected way
lighting our path
giving us strength and courage
birthing something completely new
and enabling us to turn and face the world with love.

May we take time to allow God to come to us this holy day and night.
And may the beauty of Christ's birth bring us joy
and grace to live into the days to come.