A God Sighting
It was unexpected, the response I received from those who, out of concern, inquired about my mother’s health. I would say, “She is doing well” or “She is great” or “She is improving everyday”. Sympathetic, disbelieving faces acknowledged, what seemed, my wishful, deluded words. After all, how could anyone who was diagnosed with stage four cancer, a glioblastoma brain tumor, be doing well? But the honest answer was, yes, she was doing well. Yes, to understate, she was tired, sleeping the days away. And, yes, our family, over fueled by adrenalin, was tired, too. But, in spite of the fatigue, somehow, I knew, even in the face of a terrible diagnosis, that my mother was doing well. How could I know this? It is hard to say how I could proclaim her wellness in the middle of such uncertainty. This knowing, an assurance which rested deep inside me, like taking for granted the obvious, grounded itself in something other, something infinite and indefinable. It was in this conviction, my mother’s wellness in spite of her illness, where I spotted God.
At first God was easily recognized in the concern poured out to my mother through friends, acquaintances, and even strangers who showed love, care and compassion to our family. There were so many cards, prayers, offers of food, help and companionship, all vehicles for God’s presence in my mother’s life and kin. We were nourished and sustained through these acts of kindness. In addition God was reflected in the humility these gifts brought. Illness humbled and brought us to our knees. We couldn’t do it all ourselves. The experience rendered us, at moments, helpless and dependent. However, mercy and grace flowed through those who helped us, showed concern, and silently cared and in turn, kindly revealed God to us.
Yet there was in this ordeal another place where God stepped forward. When someone receives a serious diagnosis, it doesn’t come in a vacuum. It invades the lives of all who are close. Illness makes everyone near, to some degree, ill. In order to cope with my mother’s diagnosis, I resorted to the art of surrender and unexpectedly bumped into God. To clarify, surrender, in this instance, is not the act of giving up. You can be sure we took swift, extreme, and potent action to combat the cancer. Rather, the surrender to which I am referring is more like a strategy of allowing. It was in surrendering to the process of illness where I spotted God. It was in allowing the illness to be present, where I caught God’s shadow.
After the diagnosis hit our family, it was like I jumped into a white water river, surrendering, allowing the waters of life to rush me down stream. I had to accept an unpredictable and unknown destination. I had to trust the flow of life. Trying to stand up would have gotten me stuck and pinned down by the current. I decided not to resist. The intuition to let go, trust, and feel buoyant, is where God became tangible. God was the water that surrounded, enveloped, and carried me. Sometimes I was drowning, other times I was floating. In surrendering to the flow of life, I didn’t just see God, I felt, heard, tasted, and smelled God. In this God sighting, I have been thoroughly soaked and it was only by this thorough soaking that I have the conviction to know my mother is doing well no matter what the outcome. It is in this assurance that I rest and see God very clearly.
Presently we are in a calm point of the stream. After nearly two years, my mother has been diagnosed as in remission. Really…. she is doing great! And we are all very thankful.
