All things are relative

Frio River Canyon

I am afraid sometimes. I am afraid I will never again swim in the Blanco river...or the Frio. Or see the Carribean or Paris...France, that is, not Texas. I am afraid that I will never snow ski again.

And then I get a call that tells me that Mom wants to talk to us all in the evening...together...at the same time.

Then I am afraid for real. Terrified even.

And the reason for fear is very real. Mom was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. It was not what the doctor expected. The markers indicated Myelodysplastic Syndrome or Lupus. Neither of these were good but the other sounded far scarier.

Now, a day and a half later, I have gone from extreme sorrow to expecting miracles of healing.

Crazier things have happened.

RIght now, I am praying...even though it might look like I am typing. But really, for sure, I am praying. My sister and mom are at the doctor’s office. They just met with her regular medical doctor. Now they are waiting to consult with the oncologist who wants to rush her to the hospital and begin aggressive treatment on her right now.

I am praying that Mom will feel the arms of the Holy Spirit wrapping around her, giving her hope, filling her up with love. I am praying that her blood is being renewed, restored right now as I pray and type.

I am praying that all the powerful prayers will continue.

And I am giving thanks to God for all the precious people in my life who live in love and walk in hope.

I am less afraid of not being able to see places and things that I have loved in my life. I am hopeful that all things, regardless of how difficult things might seem, will be well.

Janet McKenzie's Jesus of the People