Prayers for the Sick

Week 21: I completed my first "cycle" of chemo, which is 3 weeks on, 1 week off. Only five more cycles to go. My week "off" was great. I had more energy, didn't feel nauseous, and the metallic taste in my mouth disappeared. So to me, feeling normal is now my equivalent of feeling fab! Still, it was a rough week in other respects. I've been crying a lot lately. I try hard to fend off gloomy thoughts, but sometimes I just can't help it. I don't want to die young, but the possibility is never far-off. That possibility hit home when a friend forwarded me an email about funeral arrangements for another friend of hers who lost her battle to a recurrence of cancer. I felt an immense sense of loss for her loved ones who were left behind and for some reason it really struck a nerve. I bawled over what such a ghostly email might say about me when my time comes because it will mean I'm not here to love and take care of Stephanie. A few days later, my sister-in-law told me that one of her fellow home-school teachers went to the doctor for a fever... and discovered it was from cancer that had spread all over her body. The woman is 38 years old and has eight children at home. I had to keep myself from breaking down and sobbing over such heart-wrenching news. I don't presume to know the emotional turmoil that she and her family might be going through, but for me, living with cancer runs the gamut of distress, confusion, fear, sadness, and a profound loss of direction. I don't expect anyone to understand but, ironically, it's these feelings that have gradually led and continue to lead me closer to experiencing "truth." I hope she finds the same gift. When Stephanie was little, probably around 3 years old, she and I made up our own little secret prayer to say every time we hear a siren. "God bless that family in their time of need. Keep them safe, and give them strength." It's so imprinted in my mind now that my response is automatic: it's the first thing I think of when people are in trouble. We're all connected, strangers or not, and I can't help but believe that somehow, somewhere, off in the distant cosmos, my little prayer will be delivered when it's needed most. It helps me forget my own tribulations and reminds me instead that life is good. Even when we have to lose. I trust that God will take care of the families I mentioned. I know He will bless them; He will keep them safe, and He will give them inner strength.