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Lymphoma cells

This past week has been unusual to say the least.  I have found myself in unexpected places talking about unexpected things.  Our orderly plans to move and to say good bye to our friends have been truncated.  Life has shifted dramatically.  In this shift one of the things I have noticed is the power of connection and the hunger for community. In the elevator up from the main floor of the hospital we eye each other to see what floor each person is headed to.  Floors 13 and 14 are more likely to strike up conversation with one another.  We have something in common that neither in patient (10  & 11) nor cardiac care (12) has.  We have cancer.  And we have our coping mechanisms and stories.  One ride was all about trying to quit smoking.  When we see a new person we help them navigate the floor’s entry protocols.  We begin to recognize each other at the hand wash sinks and in the family rooms.  We can tell who we can joke with, who is having a bad day.  We are connected.
One of the best illustrations of the power of connection was lunch yesterday with a friend who’s daughter has had leukemia for 2 years.  They were at Doernbecher’s for an appointment so we met up in the hospital cafeteria and spoke to one another in a new language.  I felt understood so deeply in that moment. Our friendship, always a good one, has changed now.
Cancer has shaped my life in the wider world too.  I found myself apologizing to the guy at Hot Lips Pizza the other night for my more pronounced than usual lack of focus and inability to make decisions.  I told him that my dad had just been diagnosed with lymphoma and he started talking about his mom who, after 5 years of intense treatment, died of ovarian cancer.  We had a real moment of connection and understanding in the midst of cheese and tomato sauce.
Life can turn us for a loop.  And so we need each other to get our feet back on the ground while our head spins.  This is one of the ways God is present with us in this life, through the people we love and who offer us holy gifts by their very selves.  Without my friends Courtney and Cheryl I could not do this.  These two wonderful women are gifts from God in their ability to laugh and be steadfast in times of trouble. Without my sister and her husband I would be lost. Their intellects and hearts are gifts from God.  Without Jeff and Paige I would be in bed still staring at the ceiling. Their love and joy are gifts from God.  Without my amazing mom and dad I would not have learned from a very early age about how awesome God is and how we get to respond to God in such holy ways. Dad continues to teach these lessons as he faces every health challenge with grace and peace.
This whole saga has once again reminded me why we are starting a new church.  It is a matter of life.  We need each other.  We need spaces to love each other.  We need room to connect and share.  Already one of the night nurses is interested in the church.  We spent a rough time of it caring for dad and talking and that spark that happens between people happened.  We could tell that we had more to learn from one another and that maybe each of us brought a holy gift. This happened the other day when I upgraded to a new cell phone so that Paige could have my old one as an ipod.  She has been such a trooper that a little reward and some continued distraction was in order. The guy helping me set up my phone is from Sellwood and we suddenly plunged in to a litany of where to eat that wound around until we were talking about John Scalzi’s books. What a gift a normal interaction was on that day.  And his interest in our community reminded me that we don’t just need one another in times of crisis.  We need each other in the ordinary every day too.
God is with us.  God is in us.  God loves through us.  Thank you to everyone who has shown us God in the past whirlwind week.  Thank you to everyone who has shown us God throughout our lives.  And thank you to those who God is sending to us, a new community to shift us and shape us as we continue to faithfully follow God’s call.
In humble gratitude- Eilidh