Sometimes I find a room, close the door and weep. I weep for
my failures, my shortcomings, my sins – yeah, that’s plural. I weep for the
sins of commission and for the sins of omission. I long to be a better
Christian, to be filled with the Holy Spirit and to be able to discern when
someone other than me is hurting. Then to be able to comfort and ease the pain
through what I have experienced and lived in my own life.
Life isn't always pretty, in fact it can be downright ugly.
Even in the realm of Christian community. We see ugliness, hurt, death, disease
and broken families. When will we be able to pour the oil and anoint the heads
of those the walking wounded? When will we see past our politics and
differences and come together for the sake of Christ and for community?
When will we be able to live in the light of Eucharist
Theology – knowing that our hearts, like the bread, are broken. When will we pour
out ourselves like the wine? Oh Lord, break my chalice, my jar of clay – and
allow the wine to flow out and touch all it comes into contact with.
Then heal the broken vessel in the manner of Kintsugi – the
Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer and gold dust, thereby making
a perfectly imperfect piece of beauty. Yes…broken, yet healed and beautiful in
the eyes of God. The repaired vessels are indeed more beautiful, more
compassionate and also stronger than before they were broken.
I long to be healed of my infirmities, but to claim with
boldness the quote from Sara Miles' book Jesus Freak: Feeding Healing Raising the
Dead which reads, “Prayer is one of the deepest forms of relationship
with God…and through relationship there can be healing in the absence of
cure.”
I want to know that my life has mattered, that for the sake
of Christ it will count. That this new stage of life I am entering…no
embracing…will count for the sake of eternity.
I need to garner strength for the coming battle and find my
inner warrior. Somehow in my mind’s eye I see a woman warrior not unlike St.
Joan of Arc. Depending upon what happens on Thursday; I will need the strength
of a woman warrior to battle against cancer. I may need to remind myself more
than once that instead of asking “How much time do I have left?” the better
question may very well be, “What options do I have?” With this being said, I may be quiet for awhile for healing. I would appreciate your prayers.
“And who knows but that you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this and for this very occasion?” Esther 4:14 Yes…for such a time as this.
There was a wonderful program on PBS Sunday evening -
Winning By Living: One Cancer Story. 60 Minutes shared a hopeful story about
how polio could possibly be the cure for cancer. Yes hope…and light in the face
of the dark night of the soul.
And so I pray: God my Father, Christ my Lord, Holy Spirit creative force of the universe – hear my prayer: Draw me closer to You. Heal my infirmity, if not a cure then make it count.
Even so, Amen.
Well written, Tamara. I pray that you will continue to live as well as you write. I was unaware of Kintsugi. How appropriate. I read something else this morning that I copied in my journal. Alicia Britte Chloe: Brokenness-service=bitterness; brokenness+service=fruitfulness. Fruitfulness is my prayer.
ReplyDeleteOh Rebecca! Bitterness vs. fruitfulness? I choose fruitfulness! Dear Lord, make it count!
ReplyDeletea song for you ♥ https://youtu.be/piUDbCtgymw
ReplyDeleteIn case, you missed it on my response to your comment. not a song, but words..https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGTI1I_A3Dk
ReplyDeleteYour life has counted....and continues to count. Be ever mindful that my prayers are for you and for those you love. I haven't forgotten to pray for you or your son. You've touched my life, and we've never met. Imagine how many lives you've influenced that you have physically looked upon.
ReplyDeleteI read about the polio/cancer possible connection. Wouldn't it be a wonderful discovery to find a cure for cancer! That has been my prayer since I was a girl, and my Grandmother passed away with cancer. I have prayed for a cure to be found.
Sending you warm hugs and a smile to accompany them.
Love you, my friend....
Always,
Jackie