The Trip "B"

Tuesday morning early I was sitting in a departure lounge at the Toronto Canada airport. My family and I had just finished a week long visit to the great white north from our home in southern California. We came back to spend time with family, to visit my mother who is finishing chemotherapy. Those who have read my previous posts all named The Trip, will know that this is another chapter in my mothers journey through the valley of cancer. I find it comforting to know that her favorite psalm is 23. The verse Yea though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me has special meaning to her and to me. Since last August I have been praying for a miracle of healing. I was praying the cancer would be completely removed from her body. The prayer was answered once as she nearly died due to complications in the weeks following surgery. Those prayers were answered.

I have been filling the prayer bowls again though, nothing less than complete recovery is what I am praying for. This mountain will fall into the sea!

This trip was so different from last summer. We spent many hours over the course of the week talking to playing games and sharing meals with my parents. It was a time to remember. Not at all like the horror and stress of cancer surgery and uncertainty. No this trip was different.

There were many prayers for us as we left for home. So many well meaning friends who genuinely cared for us. The stress of last August seemed to melt away as we each day made the most of this precious time with family. It was a good trip, God inspired and prayer lined. The last day we found out the cat-scan showed no sign of tumors, the cancer is gone. In Gods hands, gone for good.

Father

Thank you for your gift of grace

Thank you Holy Spirit for guiding this trip

Praise you for your love and kindness

Praise you for healing

Amen

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

Cancer in the Hills

1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

² My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;

⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

⁷ The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;

⁸ the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore. Ps 121

My family and I live in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountain range in southern California. I am blessed to have awesome trails to ride my mountain bike on just a few hundred yards from my house. This is a joyous time for me as I can spend time in prayer and in the word. It is my alone time with God.

For the past several weeks I have been coming to terms with the recent diagnosis of my mother. She was told she has cancer, again. Four and a half years ago she went toe to toe with this horrible disease. She emerged tired and bruised but victorious, Praise God. Now however the stakes are higher. A tumor was found and will be removed in two weeks.

My mother and I are not close in the traditional sense. Her generation was not one to let you know how they feel. I learned to fill in the blank spaces. Acts of kindness and sacrifice can easily be understood as I love you. A smile or friendly lilt in a voice can mean I love you.

But now, does “are you coming to visit?” mean I am scared, I can’t do this alone. Does clinging to details about accommodations belay a loss of control? What of her fear of death? How does that play out, in prayer, devotion?

I am not on solid ground here. Much like the rocks and gravel on my mountain playground the ground seems unstable, shifting and full of peril. Each of my rides has taken on a new significance. Most days I cannot wait to get there. At the summit of my ride I stop and take in the vista. As I catch my breath I pray earnestly. Most days the prayer starts with Psalm 121. Here this psalm comes to life. I can feel his presence consoling me, encouraging me, strengthening me. Like the beat of my heart pounding in my ears, Jesus is there with me. Jesus is my rock and solid ground.

He reminds me of his sacrifice, his commitment to me. On my knees I ask for a miracle that my mother would know his power, his healing. I see this tremendous mountain range and know that it would melt before him if he wished, it would be thrown down into the ocean at his command. His power is there for each of us who earnestly seek it. Those who would do his will, build his kingdom, love him and their neighbor with all their heart.

Today I am torn up by the suffering and fear of my mother. But my trust is in him and his power. Today and all days he is the one that I seek, that I love, that I will follow with all my heart. Today I pray for a miracle, I intercede on behalf of my mother. Today I call upon the name of Christ and ask that he give my mother the chance to complete her life in his peace, in his grace, carried away with gentleness and warmth. The woman who brought me into this world I pray will go out of it another day fully in his comforting hand.

May all the praise and glory be yours

My heavenly father I pray these things in the name of your victorious son

Amen