Convalescence brought a little jar with a screw top lid filled with holy water to my bedside. What does a protestant like me do now? Mom says she is sure it was blessed by the priest because sometimes the water jug in their vestibule will have a little warning sign which reads, "Not yet blessed", and she was sure to wait. A reading of this blessing in her missal assures me that all is well on the theological front, "May He by a secret admixture of His divine power render this water fruitful for the regeneration of men...let all unclean spirits depart, no power of the enemy prevail, and all diabolical deceit conquered." If power ignited by faith can inhabit water, I'm golden.
If nothing else, it made me think about this verse in John, the rivers of living water that should be available to all who believe in Jesus. The young men in the picture are Free Burma Rangers who navigate rivers, cliffs and thick jungle growth to bring life saving medical care, supplies and encouragement to IDPs being persecuted by the Burmese military. They seem to have that river of living water flowing from their hearts. Here is their motto:
LOVE EACH OTHER. UNITE AND WORK FOR FREEDOM, JUSTICE, AND PEACE. FORGIVE AND DON'T HATE EACH OTHER. PRAY WITH FAITH, ACT WITH COURAGE, NEVER SURRENDER.
How does one change a screw top lid jar into a gushing river like the one these boys are navigating both physically and in their hearts? How can I get a flood of His Holy Spirit to saturate the dry ground of my heart ? How does one joyfully draw water from the deep wells of salvation?
When I was coming out of sedation after the second operation I had an experience unlike any other before. If you've ever been under you know that coming out of it is surreal. It's like you gain awareness of who you are and where you are in millimeters of coherence, and it is often not frightening, wonderful, or anything at all really except gradual like the focusing of a camera lens. But this time was different for me. I was suspended in a shredded no man's land. I realized that I could relax and wait for the world to be put back in order, or I could talk to God during the wait, which I did. My awareness of His presence was no different than it is at this very moment, but I my awareness of me was; I was simply a soul without a body. You pray differently in that state...just soul stuff. I don't know how else to explain it but to say my prayers were as simple and unadorned as my soul was without a body. The depth of its realness made tears slip out of my eyes and slowly roll down my cheeks. Feeling them there finished the tethering of my soul back to my body, and then I could see the faintest silhouette of Ben walking across the room towards me.
God was there with me in shredded world in just the same way He has always been with me since His fingers formed me in my mother's womb, and will be with me when my spirit and soul leave this tent. I'm not sure I'm so happy to be back in the physical because every bit of surrendering Him to an awareness of the flesh feels like I am experiencing a granule of Hell, the place of His ultimate absolute and total absence. The physical world is so loud and demanding. My body isn't well. People surround me. I'm hungry, tired,or worried about other people and their physical state. I just want rivers of living water to saturate the dryness of my heart. It seems like it will be harder to get that here with tent stakes driven into the dirt.
But maybe not. Jesus said I would abide in Him if I obey His commandments, and the greatest one is to love. Does choosing to love sacrificially in the flesh bring the flood rather than a small pot of living water to my heart? Instead of losing Him because of my ownership of this body, perhaps I surrender it and find Him in that obedience. In fact, in shredded world although I was more empty of my body self, it didn't seem like there was any way to change anything because I didn't have a body to express the decisions of my will with! Maybe this is better after all because I can show the authenticity of my choice to love by what I do.
Either way, I'm contending for rivers of living water. In fact, I need it. Last night my dear friend left to go home after a wonderful day of talking. We laid our weary heads on our pillows to discuss some difficult things. My body ached in some places in strange ways, and then the phone rang unexpected in the late hour. Her shaking voice told us she had caused an accident but she was ok. Ben raced to get her, and I told the Lord I needed a river. Looking back I can kind of see it! Everyone was perfectly safe, a last minute purchase of AAA got her towed 89 miles home for free, and rather than going to bed with troubles on our mind Ben and I were thinking about ways to tease her (when the time is right) about being an old lady driver. Thank You Father for minute by minute living water, especially when the trials pile up! I'll take it by the river please.
Coming up this week I will meet with the radiologist to discuss my radiation treatment, and then with the oncologist to hear the plan for chemotherapy. Both will tell me the duration and particular cocktail I will get, so then I guess I will know everything. Other than that I am just taking it as easy as I can so that my wounds can heal well before chemo starts. Thanks to everyone for all of the meals, prayers and encouragements; where would I be without you all?? May we all be watered with holy water each day to meet our needs.
Psalm 104
10 He makes springs pour water into the ravines;
it flows between the mountains.
11 They give water to all the beasts of the field;
the wild donkeys quench their thirst.
12 The birds of the sky nest by the waters;
they sing among the branches.
13 He waters the mountains from his upper chambers;
the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.
14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,
and plants for people to cultivate—
bringing forth food from the earth:
15 wine that gladdens human hearts,
oil to make their faces shine,
and bread that sustains their hearts.
16 The trees of the Lord are well watered,
the cedars of Lebanon that he planted
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