The Trip IV: Duty and Self

Most of us in North America are accustomed to having a fairly generous zone of personal space. Our personal space is reserved for a select group ourselves of course and those with whom we are most intimate. In fact one of the ways we can determine how close someone is with another is by how close they get to one another and how comfortable they are when they do so. The closer and more comfortable, the more intimate the relationship in general pretty simple right?

Well, in late August I spent 6 days with my parents and eldest sister helping my mother to prepare for cancer surgery. Because of constrained time lines, further constrained budgets I ended up having precious few moments to myself alone. Sharing a hotel room with my father and all waking moments with my mom dad and sister. This is treasured time as I consider the gravity of why I am visiting. Life is short and relationships matter. I wanted to be fully present and serve with a heart like Jesus while there.

Conflicting with this was my need to be alone. Alone time is my opportunity to pray and praise God, to intercede on behalf of others in need, to seek wisdom and understanding, to seek forgiveness and healing. Other than washroom time I had zero time alone for six days. Praying in the washroom is okay but not ideal to say the least. I can't pray with my parents their catholic roots and mindset just doesn't get my relationship with Jesus. My sister is too hurt to believe right now. But she did ask about my faith praise God...

So I struggled mightily to hold this dichotomy in check and get through this time in such a way that my parents and sister knew without doubt my love for each of them. It was a challenging time, it taxed my patience to the limit, it sapped my energy down way too low, it drew heavily upon my spiritual batteries.

You know the moment before I left after the operation was over and my mom appeared to be on the mend, my father gave me a priceless gift. As he thanked me for being there and said goodbye, his voice cracked just a bit. Just enough.

No words but I knew what he was saying "I love you son, thanks for being here for your mother and I"

If you read my previous posts you will know that this is the secret way my family communicates. No outward shows of affection, just stoic acts sometimes with the cracks of emotion that say the words that cannot be spoken.

So my mom was on the mend that day and I hoped a jet for home a few thousand miles away. Secured in my heart was the knowledge that I had honored my mother and father.

I only pray that it will go well for them.

Father

I praise you
Your healing hand
Your gentle son Jesus
Your grace
Your omnipotence
Your plans for us
Your glory revealed
Your majesty and creation
Your unbounded love

I thank you for the healing hand you placed on my family
I thank you for your deliverance

Blessed be your name in all the nations on all the earth

In your sons victorious name I pray

Amen