Good morning…
The wild thunderstorm outside matches how I feel on the inside. Drenched. I feel drenched with swirling emotions.
The wordless prayer card above has been sitting beside me for the past few weeks, silently speaking my hidden worries and my deepest desires. The image reminds me of the bright, light-filled kitchen table in my parents’ independent living villa, where my dad does his Sudoko in the newspaper each day. Two weekends ago, my father came down with COVID as the caregiving partner for my mom. She had been undergoing a variety of tests since her appetite had decreased and she has been having trouble eating for the past few months. Then in her weakened state, she got COVID and she has not bounced back. For the first time yesterday, my dad said the words we were all quietly dreading: “Your mom isn’t doing very well. We aren’t sure if we’ll make it to the wedding.”
“She has her dresses lined up, and she looks great,” reported my loving dad, “but she is eating very little and she can’t keep food down.” Traveling the three hours from suburban Cleveland, Ohio to my brother’s home in Latrobe, Pennsylvania, the plan has been for my parents to hop in the backseat to drive as passengers about eleven hours to the wedding in Charleston, South Carolina, with an overnight stop in Charolette, North Carolina. At this point, the big wedding adventure cannot be undertaken without my mom’s doctor giving his blessing with full confidence.
Today, my mom will hopefully get in to see her doctor, to talk through her symptoms, to receive his help making the wisest decision. I really want my parents to enjoy the wedding, and even more than that, I want my mother to be healthy and well. I pray for healing, wholeheartedly.
More emotions swirl now as I browse through special photos we will display at our son’s rehearsal dinner. My parents. Steve and me. Steve’s parents. Pictures taken at all of our own wedding ceremonies. I soak in the radiance of young love.
Steve and I watched our wedding video this weekend, and we all looked so very young. My parents. Steve and me. Steve’s parents. We all looked so young, so vibrant and radiant. Steve’s dad is in heaven now and Steve’s mom is ninety-two. Steve and I are both sixty. My mom is eighty-five and my dad is eighty-six. We all got married in our twenties, just like our engaged son and his wife-to-be. In less than a week, we will cycle again through their sacred wedding ceremony, birthing a fresh new branch on our family tree.
I really, really hope my parents will be able to join us in person, and, at the same time, I trust they will be deeply present in Spirit, if not face to face.
The storm outside has calmed to quiet and my strong emotions have faded into peace, accepting whatever happens as pure gift. Coming to rest in deep prayer with God, peaceful radiance naturally emanates. Slowly inhaling and rhythmically exhaling, I am filled with gratitude.
[pause]
His splendor overtakes the skies;
His praise fills every corner of the earth.
His radiance is like a bright light, rays stream down from His hand,
and there His power is hidden (Habakkuk 3:3-5, VOICE).
May God’s hidden power radiate through each of us as we accept with gratitude whatever happens this one-of-a-kind week. God is on the move. Let’s pause and come to rest in his peaceful presence.
…Sue…
