In the middle of the night

It is hard to sleep at night when you spend most of the day resting in bed or on the couch. The body is not really tired, muscles are not needing repair, mind is not overwhelmed with the day's events to sort and file. In the middle of the night I find myself most at peace. Usually nothing hurts, the room temperature is comfortable, the bed is soft. My husband is peacefully asleep next to me. I think about my children, comfy in their own beds with their own male companions dozing peacefully beside them. I think about the little grandchildren, dreaming little dreams far away. I feel overwhelming calm and gratitude for the path that I continue to trod, that brings such peace. All is right with the world in the middle of the night. I have kept the faith. I have followed my Lord into the cool of the valley and He comforts me. All of us. He has given me the ability to lie down in green pastures. I can review the chapters of my life story and feel His presence in each one. In the middle of night, I may lie awake, but 100% relaxed, knowing that there is not one place that He is not, and only the light of the morning will tell if I have really gone to Him, or will spend another day in His presence here. It doesn't matter to me.

Towels

I guess because I have cancer I seem to be keenly aware of others around me who have it. One of my nurse friends was just diagnosed last week with leukemia, and the treatment for it is a brutal one. I ache for her and her family. My pastor's mother is struggling with recurrent cancer, as is another pastor we met during Richard's treatment. In their web posts about their struggles, both the newly diagnosed and the chronic, they all mention words of battle, fighting, not giving up, not "throwing in the towel".  I didn't know that life was a picnic until something Job-like happens to you and then suddenly it is a boxing ring. I prefer to think of it like the Olympics commercials pictured it. You start as a child, learning from the loving adults that are placed in your life to encourage, teach and motivate you. You begin to understand the world, yourself, what gifts lie within you. You begin to lean into those gifts, lean into the world, surround yourself with more people who inspire and believe in you until you are able to stand on your own, supported and loved by family, friends and God. Oh, yes, there are towels handed to you to wipe the sweat off your brow, or wipe up the messes that are sometimes made, but there are not yours. They are offered to you. And when life here is done, we all get to the podium together, hand in hand, raised toward heaven in victory. I have no towel to throw in, only one to hand you if you need it. Thanks for sharing yours with me today, I feel better already.

When all is well

It is a peaceful day when everything around you, and everyone you love, is in sync with the best part of themselves. There are no urgent teary phone calls, no odd bills in the mail, no new scrapes on the car. You can feel the peace of the day unfolding like a soft blanket, and you know that today all is well with the world that you know. Those of us in first world countries get lots of these days. We complain about being "broke" but we have more money than most people in the world can even imagine. We complain about our political system, but we live under more freedoms than most citizens of the world. We berate our health care system, but, for the most part, I don't know anyone that can't walk into any emergency room today and get adequate care without paying one cent for it up front. We really complain about everything, from the speed of our phones, to the quality of our burgers, to the price of gas. Yet we have the best phones in the world, we eat more than we should and we continue to buy cars with 40 gallon gas tanks and somehow can afford to fill them up whenever the tank is empty. As I live now, stripped of almost everything I used to hold in such high esteem, I am more than ever appreciating the peaceful days, without complaining. Would that we could see how beautiful they are.

Waves

I have been feeling desperate to see and feel waves all summer. My little construct of a fauxcation to the beach didn't work without them, without the sounds of crashing surf and spray. The only place I knew was close was Soak City, at Kings Island. Even that seemed out of reach, as each day becomes harder to navigate with the limited energy I have. Plus, I am cheap, and didn't want to spend so much money on what would be a short day at the park. For whatever reason, however, I had it in my mind that yesterday would be the day we would go. I had had enough excuses, enough wistful looks at the sights of beach vollyball at the Olympics and the commercials of people at the ocean. So we packed our towels and sunscreen and a book or two and headed off to the park, even with the chance of rain in the forecast. It was everything I hoped, the first look at the curling waves in the Tidalwave pool brought so much joy to my heart that I didn't mind the chilly water, and swam like a little kid. The steel band played, children laughed, the waves tossed us to and fro, we took rides down Splash River. It was a wonderful day. Sunlit waves, gentle against my feet, thank you for filling this heart of mine.

Safari

Last year, my friend Pam decided that she was finally ready to take her trip of a lifetime, an African Safari. She spent months planning it, saving her money, shopping for the right clothes, getting her shots, gearing up her courage for 3 weeks in the open savannah. She just got back a few weeks ago, and brought over her 1500 pictures and videos on thumb drives for me to peruse at my leisure. It was a magical experience to see what she saw, hear what she heard. I remembered my own single day safari in Kenya 5 years ago, remembered the awe at seeing wildlife up close, without bars or locks. I saw the look of contentment on her face in the few pictures of her, seeing her in a new way; not as a busy charge nurse, brimming with professional skills honed over years of diligent work, but as a brave woman, willing to step away from her busy life and do this one thing that she had dreamed of doing for such a long time. No more excuses, no more fears, she stepped into her trek with the confidence with which she does everything. I am glad for her. Some people wait too long to be brave, and never do that one thing. Thank you for sharing your dream with me, my wonderful friend.

In translation

What happens once a prayer leaves our mind, our heart, our lips and travels into the enormity of space? No matter what we asked for, or how we asked, what happens to the words? Do they take on a life and power of their own, maybe against the will of a sovereign God, and change the course of a life to an unintended consequence? Have we prayed prayers that altered history for the ill of mankind instead of the bettering, because we were only thinking of ourselves? Do we ask God what He thinks before we pray?  What happens once a prayer leaves us and goes to God? I like to think He takes them all, each one, and weaves them into beautiful words that work His will into the world. The soulful, brave and selfless prayers overwrite the selfish, cold and hateful ones and translate them into prayers that propel the global us into His ultimate destiny for us. As we live here together, sharing our resources, we must pray selfless prayers, bold prayers that lift the hearts of those that are suffering around the world. When we do this, we can expect to receive the answer for our own needs in today's blessings as He gives us all our daily bread of love, hope, faith, joy, patience and comfort.