Monday, September 1, 2008

I’m so tired and sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open, yet I’ve lain in bed for two hours and cannot fall asleep. No, I didn’t have espresso before bedtime. Sleeplessness is a side effect of the Decadron they give as one of the pre-meds before chemo. It helps with the stress of chemotherapy to the body. I already take Prednisone, which is a similar corticosteroid drug. Put them together and what do you get? Well, it’s not bippity, boppity boo, I’ll tell you that. I just can’t remember…. Ah, another side effect of chemo; chemo brain. It is the happening thing these days, for me anyway. Now, where was I…?

I’ve been thinking about parentheses. (You know, those little sideways curves people put colons or other marks with to make smiles or frowns. Actually, they do have another purpose.) I’ve been living within a parenthesis the last seven months. Maybe you have lived in one, too, and know what I am talking about. Mine is so wide it feels like I can stretch my arms out at my sides as far as they will reach and I cannot touch the sides, those smiley/frowny curves. Nor have I yet traveled halfway through my parenthesis. At seven months I think I am roughly 1/3 of the way through.

Living in a parenthesis is not the same as being set aside, as on a shelf, unused. No, a parenthesis has a purpose. It contains the parenthetical phrase. Now, I am not an English major, nor a grammarian (if there is such a term), but I did listen a bit in school. A parenthetical phrase usually gives you information about what was just said, but in an “aside”, or as if you cupped your hand over your mouth and whispered to the listener so they might better understand your meaning. It is sometimes used to clarify what went before so you better understand what will come after.

I think that is where my life is just now, in this parenthesis; this long, yawning space in which I live and breathe, and listen and learn. Waiting on the Lord. Yet not inactive, not passive. On the contrary, I am very active in my seeking and searching the heart and mind of God. And he is not silent. He is speaking into my ear, behind his cupped hand, giving me deeper insight and understanding.

One of the things he is pointing out is this idea of “the race marked out for us” (remember Hebrews 12?) and how that relates to “deny yourself and take up your cross daily”, and follow Jesus. I’m still contemplating these words.

There are other things he has made clear to me as I’ve prayed for wisdom and direction for Randy and myself, in our personal lives as well as ministry, which are interwoven. To me this is exciting.

There is a song which is probably relegated to the missionary song category, but I believe it should be the heart cry of every believer in Jesus Christ. It talks about the fear of territory unknown, leaving what is comfortable and safe to follow the Lord in obedience. But Jesus has promised to be with me. It speaks of a ship in the harbor, safe and secure from harm, but then it says, it was not built to be there, it was made for wind and storm. The chorus goes, All I know is you have called me, and that I will follow is all I can say. I will go where you will send me, for your fire lights my way.

This, this is my heart cry to the Lord. The one who bought me with his blood, the Lord who called me to love and serve him with all I am. Whatever this race marked out for me entails, I want with all my heart to follow Jesus in it, following by the light of his presence.

In this parenthesis, this holy place, I will keep seeking his face and listening with all my might to what he may whisper in my ear. That I might be holy, love him more and serve him better.

(I choose to make those parentheses Smiley curves, rather than frowns.)

Jacque