Today is extra special due to the grace given me by God on this Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception. I know Mary also took pity on this pained and nauseated, nothing consecrated Catholic hermit.
I decided to make the attempt to drive to the huge Walmart that is 8 miles from my hermitage, as three prescriptions were ready for pick up. Yes, the woman who brings me Communion was willing to pick them up; she said she'd do so when here on Friday past. But I prayed and asked Jesus to help me at least try to make the trip; and if I was too sickened or disoriented with pain once there, I'd leave Precious Blood (my burgundy red pick-up truck) there and ask two people to go and one to drive it back--at their convenience, of course.
I also asked Jesus, if it be His will and purpose, to give me authority over my pain and the nausea, so that I could attempt the errand and not impose upon others yet again.
The sun was shining, the storm front had passed; I set off with a bottle of ginger beer (a strong form of the soft drink, gingerale--non-alcoholic) and a bottle of water, and of course wearing the brace. When I got to this subdivision entrance, a thought occurred to take the side road that skirts town and country rather than the usual route that includes the highway.
I can't begin to express the joy of being able to manage that errand! Plus, one of the medications is an anti-inflammatory that I've had to be off for the past over four months; I'm encouraged that in a week or two, the pain might be less, or so I hope in God. It certainly stands to reason, or at least chance, as I've also been given the go-ahead to resume the various anti-inflammatory supplements I take.
Upon return I praised God Almighty for His grace and blessing of getting me there and back without mishap or incident. I was amazed at how driving the 8 miles to and from, seemed secure and safe. So back to bed and the icy pad for a couple hours, and then despite the nausea (accepted as expected, these days), I made myself go for a walk. Back down on bed and icy pad, but not before I noticed a parcel at the door.
My sister, suffering from chemotherapy treatments for a shocking lymphoma diagnosis, had sent a table topper and mug rug she'd created. Christmas red, green and gold fabric, and an angel trumpeting the word "JOY" are sewn, as in appliqued. The surprise is yet another blessing of many blessings of this day.
Jesus certainly answered my prayer; He gave me authority over the pain and nausea enough so that I could succeed in an errand that otherwise seems insignificant to most others. Even I in a distant past have taken such a feat for granted, or might have groused about "one more errand to run."
During the walk, my soul flooded over with yet more praising of His Real Presence and thanking the Blessed Virgin Mary for this her solemnity and the grace God gave her to be born without blemish so as to conceive and bear God-as-Man, our savior Jesus Christ. The walk also included prayers for a man, probably late 50's--the son of a dear, elderly, spiritual friend now living with her husband in an assisted care facility. Several states away we are from one another, but inseparable in Christ.
She called this morning. The week before Thanksgiving, her son had a tumor the size of a golf ball removed from his brain. He'd had headaches, and his general practitioner doctor sent him immediately to a surgeon. The report came back that the tumor was benign: No cancer! Then last Friday the friend called with the news that another surgeon had taken a look at the biopsy report and was concerned that there is a possibility that it might be a very rare form of cancer; so they were sending him to the major state university medical center to be seen by a specialist, 9 a.m. this morning.
The news now is that he does have cancer, after all. It is an extra gut-punch for him, his wife and family, and very much so for his elderly mother and dad. My friend tried to express her emotions; she is a very devout Catholic, filled with faith and having lived through many crosses that come in a long life. But her voice sounded the shock, dismay, concern--and what she could not pin point, but I could for her: a feeling of utter helplessness for her son's diagnosis.
But, immediately we discussed the prayer work we must do, and the praising of God that pleases God along with prayer. Praise God the one surgeon happened to take another look at the man's biopsy report, and wondered if there might be this rare cancer involved. The man begins an oral/pill treatment immediately and then will have radiation, as well. We know nothing more, other than of course to pray and to praise God, both.
Christian joy is not only for the buoyant times, but also for the most sobering of human crises and life-threatening trials. This evening, I'm back at it with pain praying. May the Lord give me authority to pain pray in ways He wills and wants--ways of pain praying that I do not begin to fathom, but also to consider that pain praying also surely has inherent praise in the pain and the praying because pain praying includes the joy our salvation, secured for our souls out of Christ's love and his suffering unto death on the cross for our us.
God bless His Real Presence in us!
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