Mary's Heartbeats

The Blackhole of Surgery Blackness, piercing darkness Without light, complete blindness, A dark abyss seemingly unending And into that you plunge Headfirst. Yes, the time is come No turning back! I go into the deep, deep blackness Tucked under the wing of my Savior. All is given up to darkness My thoughts, my breath, my body. I lie next to death itself But under the wing of my Savior. The outcome is unknown No telling what will be found. All is given up No control in the vacuum of the void. Yet I have read Your Word That tells me Your right hand will lay hold of me. In the overwhelming darkness  When even light is night, You are there. Darkness and light are alike to You. You are not hampered by the great abyss. The darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. So I can plunge into the blackest hole, Because I am under your wing, O Lord . . . (Psalm 139:10-12)

Sitting on the very front pew, in between two other women who had much longer relationships than I had with Mom Ruth, I found myself recalling how over 30 years ago my husband and I came upon this church.  Yes, we happened to come upon this church, the first time being a Sunday evening, when we quietly slipped into a hard wooden pew in the very back.  The old sanctuary was built in the round, with all the pews circling the pulpit and choir loft.  It had been a long while that I had been in church, and even then I felt my heart being tugged by the Spirit in that place.  However, it wouldn't be until another 4 or 5 years later that it would become a home church for us.  At that time, it was a refuge for me when my husband was healing in a rehab center.  By then there was a new modern sanctuary, but the same Spirit was there and evident.  Most of all the people made us feel welcomed and loved, and we were taken under the wings of particular older co...

The warm air refreshed my face and spirit, as I began biking up the hills.  It is still the dead of winter, with naked trees lining the streets.  But today, the sun has chosen to finally awake and stream down teasing strands of bright heat.  I am relishing it, especially as I listen to the tunes of my favorite new artist Lauren Daigle. I tell myself it is OK to take my time, I don't have to be in the same tip top shape I was a few months ago.  After all, the last time I rode was a few weeks after my hysterectomy, and due to the cold weather have not been able to get back on the road until now.  And no, I don't enjoy the cold to bike in or to even play golf. Definite heat, warm heat is needed for my enjoyment . . . I am living in the days of daily divine drama.  The year has arrived with more uncertainty.  I face another surgery in a couple of days, as I continue being cancer survivor day 56.  Still the irony persists in that physically I...

Ever feel that the rain will never stop? It's that kind of dark deary Monday morning.  Still in the infancy of this new year, endless tragedy pours down upon us.  Not only my personal, seemingly endless cancer search, but our family is being battered with loved ones hospitalized; near death, with infection attempting to reign supreme.  Loved ones face harsh realities of threatening job closures, while the government rains dump upon us, shutting down the expected pay for daily service.  Our friends battle the cancer storm, even while suffering dire consequences.  There seems to be no shield from the "weather" around us and within us.  Will it ever stop? You never are prepared or ready for the rain.  Winter teases you with mild days of warmth and gorgeous sunrises and sunsets.  Then it suddenly pours down on you, often more than what you ever imagined.  I probably wasn't entirely surprised to receive the phone call last week that my dear Mo...

I am living day #42 as a cancer survivor.  My world has morphed into unknown territory.  There I was recovering quite well from my total robotic hysterectomy, ready to start an active recovery with exercise and routine, preparing to return to work in a month, when I got the phone call. At first, I thought the call to be a robo call, as I glanced to see that the caller was from our local cancer facility, so I didn't respond.  But then, I listened to the message left and it was much too specific for just asking for a donation, as the message was specifically for me to return their call.  As I conversed on the phone, I found out it was indeed for me, and that I was being given an appointment in the morning with a Gyne Oncologist.  Dumbfounded, I explained that I had been unaware of any cancer diagnosis, and was seeing my gynecologist that very afternoon.  My reality sank in . . . yes, that watery vaginal discharge was a malignant sign. My gynecologist s...