I praise you for that which is.
I will not refuse this grief
or close myself to this anguish.
Let shallow men pray for ease:
"Comfort us; shield us from sorrow."
I pray for whatever you send me,
and I ask to receive it as your gift.
You have put a joy in my heart
greater than all the world's riches.
I lie down trusting the darkness,
for I know that even now you are here.
— An improvisation on Psalm 4,
by Stephen Mitchell
This is a prayer that has been on my lips often since this journey began. Although, there have been times in the midst of rough patches when, "if it is possible, let this cup pass from me," has been my prayer of choice. These last two weeks at the Rudolf Steiner Health Clinic in Ann Arbor, Michigan, have given me a chance to relax into a more healing space, both bodily and spiritually. The days were filled with color, singing, movement, art, fine vegetarian food and other forms of therapy, with plenty of time in between for rest. The nights, unfortunately, were filled with many sleepless hours, most likely due to unfamiliar surroundings, the time change and the amount of rest I was getting during the day. All in all, it was very restorative, but I am VERY glad to be home. I, like Olivia, felt our separation keenly this time.
One of the highlights of the trip was time I got to spend with our good friend, RC. We had an interesting discussion on the difference between asking for healing and asking to be cured. I have been feeling this is a journey of healing for awhile now. From the very beginning, once I knew this illness was not just a cold or flu, I have been living with the questions What is the lesson in this? How can I see the gift in this? This has often led to a greater intimacy with the people I meet and with life itself. It has been healing on many levels. But in talking with RC, I realized that I have been reluctant to pray for a cure. One thought was, if I pray to be cured and it doesn't happen, does that mean I'm not worthy? Another, deeper, thought was, if I am cured, will this healing, this intimacy stop? Will I slip back into passing my days only half (or less) aware of the beauty around me? I heard it once said that nothing focusses a man's thinking like the knowledge he is to be hung in the morning. The same is true, I think, when diagnosed with a serious illness. On one level, I was afraid of losing that clarity of thought. However, in discussing this with RC, she helped me see that it doesn't need to end, and that it is much deeper that just this illness.
And so my prayer the last few days has been for SPONTANEOUS REMISSION! If it is God's will, let the pet/ct scan show no sign of cancer! Let the doctors be completely flummoxed! Let them order a second and a third scan because they can't believe it! Who knows? It could happen. And if it doesn't, it's not because I'm not worthy or didn't pray hard enough. Just like my getting cancer, it is just what is.
Another, deeper, thought was, if I am cured, will this healing, this intimacy stop? Will I slip back into passing my days only half (or less) aware of the beauty around me?
ReplyDeleteThe next day, a hangman, let me explain. All of us at one time in our life were as that hangman, the next day and only these pumpkin seeds for being alive. No, Talib, your thoughts will not split off from you and you find another path. No, your reflections at times you should hope to be able to be maintained and yes, maybe no "cure
". No. We all have the prescience in our lives , not all finely tuned, but nonetheless, "you are what you are". If it is bigger than you, you are still You.It won't be abattle that you can't recognize. Tender those sails, my brother.