This week, my mother started chemo again for the third time, and it’s scary and not something I can control. In addition to that, there’s lots of everyday worries and changes that I’m trying to keep up with…trying to do my best. At times lately, it feels like I’m treading water. Today, I had to go back for a repeat mammogram and ultrasound on my right breast, which I was told was fairly routine. I could tell by the look on the face of the ultrasound tech that there was something up, and when the doctor came in to talk with me, it was hard to keep it together…somehow that she would take time to talk with me seemed like a bad, bad sign. The mammogram tech called it a probable cyst, but the ultrasound tech called it a nodule. And even though I’m completely medically ignorant, the change in language really freaked me out for some reason. The doctor was fairly certain it was a cyst, and she was going to try to break it with a needle to see if it would collapse.
What does one think of at these moments?
The doctor apologized for the cold room and the tech apologized for the needle. I told them none of that mattered as long as they told me I was okay, and ultimately, it looks like I am. The cyst collapsed…they’ll send the cells to be checked and I am probably fine.
So, what was I thinking of? On the table, wearing a johnny, later in the waiting room…I thought about Tim and the kids and how I need to be here. And I thought about two young mothers in my town who aren’t here anymore. And I prayed….
In my life, I have had moments of real clarity in which I realize this life is so short and I know the Love of God, and I know that Heaven is my real home. I have experienced that certainty and in those moments I feel my faith in my bones, and it’s like breathing to me. This was not one of those moments.
Lately, I have started my walk with this song on my ipod and it helps direct my thoughts back to where they need to be. I can’t tell you how much it changes me to walk with this song and look up at the sky. I feel God walking with me, the Sun (Son) shining on me and lighting my path. In the waiting room, wearing that johnny, I didn’t feel the calm and peace of my walks. I felt tired and scared, but I also knew He was there with me.
“Out of the depths!” You cry. “Come and be satisfied…” Father, You sing over your children.
What would our lives look like if we all lived knowing that this life was the short part…that there’s so much to come….that we’re daughters and sons and that our Father sings over us. How much would that change us? A very wise young priest recently told me that suffering trains our eyes toward Heaven. And of course that’s true, but what if we lived even our sweetest moments knowing that they’re leading somewhere even better? What if we lived every day knowing that God was walking with us, singing over us, and calling us out of the depths?