On Saturday I prayed for humility, that God would continue the good work He began in me. It is a prayer I have prayed a few times before. Each time I have found my world turned inside out, my face on the floor before Him. I am afraid of this prayer and tell Him so. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," I am reminded.
Sunday I am able to return to church for the first time in weeks and during worship I find myself suddenly convicted, my ugly sin of judgment and a critical spirit exposed before me. I confess this to my Lord. Oh wretched soul am I.
On Tuesday, after returning from Phoenix appointments, I receive a call to list a home. "You knew my wife Paula," the caller says. "Oh, Paula. I am so sorry. I loved her." Four years ago Paula was in my bible study. There were four cases of cancer represented at our little group of eight. Two of the women and two of the women's husbands. I remember wondering then whether the Lord was preparing me for something. The two women who were both battling recurrent breast cancer and have since passed on, including Paula. "It's been three years," he reminds me. "I've remarried." This is something to thing about. I try to picture my husband remarried. Another woman in my place, holding my grandchildren. It is a sobering call.
On Wednesday I go to a home for another listing. I had visited with this couple last Fall. Now they are ready, she says. Then she proceeds to tell me her breast cancer is back after 11 years. But she's ready to beat it again, she adds.
Later that afternoon, I go to my weekly nail appointment and a subject comes up reminding us all of a mutual friend, Emily. We pause to remember the brave battle she lost last summer to bone cancer that began 15 years earlier as breast cancer.
I arrive home broken and humbled. Time is short, the Lord tells me and I, in my weakness, cry selfish tears. I want more time. But there are no promises and I think of Kate McCrae, the precious little six year old from Phoenix who's been fighting a malignant brain tumor for nearly a year. Jumping up and down on her hospital bed, she asks her parents,"If this treatment doesn't work, does that mean I'm going to die?" Unexpected, they scramble to explain the reasons for the yucky medicine and treatments. The three of them share their tears before Kate adds,"but I will be in heaven with Jesus. That can't be a bad thing." The agree but tell her how much they'd like to keep her around a while. With a smile back on her face, she resumes her jumping. "I'm going to ask him to jump on a trampoline with me. I'm going to call Him Jeez." I see His face smile at that. Remembering Kate has kept my self pity in check for nearly a year now.
I lay in bed last night thinking of the grandchildren I hope to know one day, praying for the time to do so. This morning I return a missed call from my daughter. She tells her father and me on speaker phone she is planning a special 60th birthday present for me. She's pregnant! The baby is due around my birthday in January. I cry out to God with thanksgiving. He has heard me. El Roi. He sees. And I am indeed humbled.
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