All Things Are Possible

Posted on May 25, 2015 by sstyves

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Today’s Gospel has a man attached to his many possessions questioning Christ about what must be done to inherit eternal life. The man is shocked when Jesus says he must sell everything, give the money to the poor, and follow him. He leaves saddened by the exchange, unable to respond wholeheartedly to the invitation. We too must sometimes wonder who can be saved with such outrageous demands required.

Jesus responds that with God all things are possible. We cannot do the impossible. That belongs to God alone. All we can do is pray to God to ask the impossible. These months many of you have done that with and for me. With open hands, I went into surgery, not knowing if I would come out alive. The risks were many and the surgeon had been bluntly clear about them. Specialists deal with death more often then they would like and it is not a lack of compassion that does not cushion their words but rather a reality that jades them. I believe in a God of Impossibilities and I am grateful that I wake up each morning and want to follow Jesus.

I am not sure what lies ahead. My work right now is to be present to this traumatized body that is in need of Light and healing. When I walk further each day or am not winded when I walk up a flight of stairs, I know that the God of the Impossible is working miracles. When the pain subsides and I only need two painkillers instead of three in a day, I can rejoice. When what I have is appreciated but held with open hands, I am moving in the right direction of following Christ.

My body is dear to me and in this broken place I want to protect it. I have not had many visitors to limit germs and my energy. I am grateful to the many who are patient and thankful for each one who has come with my permission to spend time with me. Mortals value our bodies while at the same time have such odd ideas about them. Right now taking a deep breath is still uncomfortable for me but every time I do I know that I am alive. My incision has caused me some concern as it weeps in one spot but it is finally healing too. The medical staff who have seen it say it is beautiful. I hear that word and cringe ever so slightly as it seems to me to be unsightly. However, I stand in front of the mirror learning to love this body, bruised, cut, and poked. All these scars speak of survival. I want to do much more than survive. I want to thrive and to embrace as I always have this imperfect body as whole and beautiful.

A friend asked me about the size of my incision. My response since she could not see me on the phone was to say it was humungous. With the staples it was easy to track and therefore to show people the wound but now that the staples are out, I cannot reveal through touch alone the fancy squiggle that makes me giggle. I laugh because I am alive and whenever I see that mark, I will know that all things are possible with God. My body will still be beautiful to me because with the help of God and prayers from around the world, I have life. Many women might find it hard to embrace such a scar–hard as in that camel going through the eye of a needle in today’s Gospel–but my eyes are on the Great Physician who healed my body through a surgeon’s scalpel.

So many things keep us separated from God. The simple invitation to come and follow does not mean a life without sorrow or struggle once you commit to following Christ. Whether we cling to our possessions or our bodies or even our minds, God demands our all. The beautiful Ignatian prayer of Take and Receive comes into play here. You have given all to me, now I return it. God gave me this body and I will continue to serve the God of the Impossible until my last breath. I am much more than this shell. I know something that the man in the Gospel did not–the Generous One will provide for me. I have everything I need.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Come Spirit Come!

Posted on May 24, 2015 by sstyves

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The Advocate descends upon us today, on this most holy and yet often overlooked feast day of Pentecost. The Apostles were gathered all together in one place when the Holy Spirit arrives and fire-like tongues light upon each one present, delivering gifts unique to each person so that he and she can fulfill the vocation that lies ahead. This manifestation of the Holy Spirit we read in 1 Corinthians 12 is for the common good. It is not to be hoarded or used for private gain.

The fruit of the Spirit is poured out on humanity that day and still: joy, peace, love, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Surely these fruits are meant to be shared. What is love if one does not give it away? Who can you be generous to if not to someone else? Joy shared is joy doubled. Self-control protects another from getting hurt. You get the idea. These fruits are meant to spill over and make the world a better place.

This morning I walked slowly around my neighbourhood with my middle goddaughter and her parents. I marvel at this young woman. She has fearlessly joined me these past months and blessed me with her presence through her hugs and good thoughts. I know the kindness of this whole family through their generosity, love, joy, and gentleness. Being with them today reminded me that the fruits of the Spirit are still poured out for the common good.

Jesus gives the Holy Spirit with the calm assurance of peace. He breathes upon those gathered and sends them out to do good works. The Spirit is a-moving. Come Spirit come! Enlighten the hearts and minds of your people. May we be at peace with the gifts of this magnificent Being of the Trinity and rejoice that we are called and sent, no matter our age or our circumstances. To God be the glory this Holy Day and always.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Follow Me!

Posted on May 23, 2015 by sstyves

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The wind blows in all kinds of directions and we may lose our way or become disoriented. I try to keep my gaze on the Son as much as possible. In both yesterday’s and today’s Gospels, Christ invites Peter to follow him. Two simple words are his invitation. Follow me!

Who or what do you follow? What is your go-to coping mechanism? When I was in the hospital, I reacted badly to the narcotics I was on. One afternoon, I needed to close my eyes and sleep. Each time my lids drooped shut, red ants crawled all over me. My eyes would spring open and I would breathe rapidly, fighting off the sleep. Inevitably, I would drift off again and startle awake. After a few hallucinations, I found my way to Jesus and prayed. I slept serenely after that.

On a funnier note, I had vivid dreams for a few nights. The first one involved me gathering up some Jewish children and telling them I would hide them from the Nazis. We were running up flights of stairs and then suddenly we were in a huge ballroom. The children and their families (who had somehow appeared) were thrilled at the potential accommodations but I told them this was not the place to hide. We ran down a long flight of stairs on the opposite end of the hall that we had entered and at once, everyone became adults and we were in a bar. The SS Police saw me and pointed at the package I had in my hands, crying out I had a bomb, they raised their guns to shoot me. I shook my head, yelling out that it was not a bomb but a drum and that everyone should dance. I pulled out an African drum and started playing it wildly as others danced. I was hardly into the song when I told everyone that we would continue just as soon as I peed. The real me snapped awake and threw off my covers. As I swung my legs over the bed somewhat gingerly, I heard things go crashing off my bedside table. The health care aide was fantastic as I told her what had happened and apologized profusely for scattering water and ice all over the place. A quick prayer for a less eventful sleep curtailed dreams that night.

Later in the week, I had another crazy episode but I could not quite figure out what was happening. I was a bit agitated and seemingly depressed. My elephant toes hurt. My legs had ballooned to what seemed to me three times their normal size. I had no ankles or knees left. A wild and vicious dog seemed to be snapping at me from behind. I had no idea what was going on but I knew it was dark. I sent an email to a few friends and asked them to pray. A little while later I sent a text to another friend in the know and explained that I was not sure what was going on and she responded by suggesting I was on a narcotic crash. That made so much sense to me since I had cut down on the heavy painkillers. The incident passed without too much more havoc to my spirit.

Following Jesus took on new meaning to me during my hospital stay. I was not always able to pray as much as I wanted, especially under the fog of the narcotics, but I still managed to seek Christ when I could. Picking up my cross, or perhaps dragging it would be more accurate some days, I followed the One who has been here before, whose blood leaves a trail that is easy to track. One step in front of the other will get me to where I must go. I will follow the One who knows my fate. God has this.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Which Direction?

Posted on May 21, 2015 by sstyves

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We make choices every day. Sometimes we choose not to make a decision which means something unfolds not necessarily to our liking. Through my illness and recovery I am finding out all sorts of things about myself regarding boundaries and inner authority. On occasion, we have to decide upon a direction in life and go with it. Other times, we find the choice propels us in a direction that is surprising.

I had been in recovery a couple of hours when a man came by, wanting to bring me to my room. I was a bit gnarly with him because at last memory the nurse said I was not stable. I was not going with him until I had clearance from a medical staff person. There I was, fog-brained, but fighting against the inconvenience of this man needing to wait longer than he thought necessary to transport me. I am not sure what his problem was but I knew that the direction he wanted to take me was not life-giving but rather life-endangering.

This was one of several incidents during my hospital stay that made me tap into my inner authority and trust my intuition. My surgeon had a lovely resident working with him who would swing by mornings to check in with me.  She guided me in thoughtful ways with her great confidence spilling over into my pores.  One night early on I still had a spotter when I did my walk in the hallway. He told me in a veiled way that I smelled. In retrospect perhaps he should have alerted a nurse that I was leaking some bodily fluids that most people will never do in their lifetime. As the resident plunked herself down for her morning chat, I was grateful she was alone.  Already we had established a good rapport so I had some questions for her. I mentioned the foul smell that I emitted some nights. She assured me that I did not smell but I asked about my drain cup leakage and we decided that better care was needed for that wound.

That same morning we discussed who I should be listening to. Some days I received conflicting advice. This lovely woman basically said I was the boss of me. I knew what was best so even though people told me what they thought I needed to participate actively. In today’s first reading, from Acts, the Lord tells Paul in prison: Keep up your courage!  This encapsulated what I would need to do. In my life, I have struggled with authority and the resident gave me permission to claim my inner boss. I was going to walk boldly in that direction.

Overall, the medical teams were great but the care was inconsistent on a busy ward. What I found is that I am a patient woman but I also am learning not to settle. I am grateful for the encouraging words from the resident, my surgeon and other staff who helped me navigate the healthcare system with greater confidence. I could collaborate with the direction I needed to go  in order to move forward on the road to health.

Have you claimed your inner boss yet?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Sunny Hours

Posted on May 20, 2015 by sstyves

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The place where I am recuperating has a fabulous healing quality about it. I am sitting outside, listening to the water spill out into a pond. The sun dial has this message that brought a smile to my face: I count only sunny hours. I am not naive enough to believe that no darkness creeps unannounced into life but I have a strong desire to latch on to the positive. That is what I asked of those around me too as I have walked each step since discovering the tumours in my liver. Remarkably, even the most negative Puddleglums in my life have honoured the request to remain positive.

I have been abundantly blessed with thoughtful acts of kindnesses these past months: masses said, candles lit, prayers raised, rides given, food made, prayer shawls knitted, comforting words spoken, and so much more. The sunny hours have far outweighed the overcast ones. Such devoted service by so many is humbling. I have felt incredibly held by a worldwide community of both believers and non-believers. Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Buddhists have become one in their longing to see me well and whole. That in itself has been a spectacular gift.

The power of prayer is real to me. For the friends who have said rosaries, novenas, and humble sighs for mercy, I am grateful. One of the touching moments the morning of my surgery occurred just I was wheeled down to the operating room. My brother and two friends had risen early to be with me. As the transport people approached me, one friend boldly offered up a prayer. While I do not remember the exact words, what struck me was the authority in which she spoke it and the certainty of the request being heard. Whatever darkness might have been hovering around looking for a point of entry, that prayer banished it. The Son shone down on me, the medical team and those praying for me.

I am counting my sunny moments during my recovery. I have had a couple of cloudy moments but in general the pain and the little relapses are held at bay. Today, for example, after a busy schedule yesterday, I felt quite tired and so I rested a good portion of the morning. This afternoon was a bit of a different story. I had the energy to walk in the garden and linger in the beauty with my camera. I am ready for a nap now but feel stronger than earlier. There are still many storm clouds to keep an eye out for–the chance of infection, pneumonia or a blood clot are risks post-surgery. Walking is the best preventative measure for most of the risks. Resting is the balancing act.

Life is a mix of sun and storm. I refuse to get caught in the downpour for long without a little sundance. I believe that all the positive thinking will keep the darkness in the cave while I stand out in the garden. How do you approach life? Do you count only the sunny moments to keep going? There is value in embracing the thunderstorms and gleaning important lessons. I know this very well but today I am soaking in the sun and happy to stay there.

Peace,

Suzanne

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This Thing Called Hope

Posted on May 19, 2015 by sstyves

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I am a prairie girl through  and through. Who I am at my core is shaped by where I live. People of the prairies know hope. We believe in the impossible. We know resurrection stories. We understand trials and the joys of perseverance. We know how to embrace celebration.

I ventured out tonight to my Ignatian Lay Volunteer group for the final meeting before summer break. These are some of the people who have been praying up a storm for me. Such joy filled the room as we were reunited post-surgery.  Our gratitude at what is was tangible. We are prairie folks who believe in hope.

Earlier today I wrote a couple of faraway friends and explained where I was physically and emotionally. They cannot see or hear me to get a sense of my recovery. I described how I was sitting in the sun, wrapped in my prayer shawl, looking out at the gardens. The tulips that were covered in snow yesterday had drooped in the early morning sun but were still opening as the day warmed up. Fear had not kept their buds closed. The other flowers were not carrying the burden of the weight of what was but revelling in the moment of what is.

This thing called hope wins here on the prairies where we never know what may happen. I grow stronger each day. It has only been two weeks since surgery and my eyes are focused forward and upward. I am surrounded by love, rooted in trust, grounded in gratitude, and joyful in hope. To God be the glory now and always.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Unexpected Turns

Posted on May 18, 2015 by sstyves

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This is what we woke up here with today on the long weekend in May in Manitoba. Life can take some unexpected turns sometimes.  What do we do when that happens? Do we gripe and complain? Throw on our sandals and go outside anyways? Marvel at how pretty those tulips look with a dusting of snow? Sigh deeply and accept that we choose to live here?

In the missal, at the end of the readings today was a quote from St. Francis of Assisi: Where there is rest and meditation, there is neither anxiety or restlessness. That’s a timely quote for me if I ever heard one. We can get anxious about things out of our control such as snow in May or awaiting a health verdict or we can breathe deeply, offer it to God, and allow a serenity to fill us.

Today I am feeling well, though still tired. The weariness will remain for a few more weeks I am sure. I am able to bend more, to sit up for longer periods of time, to breathe deeply without discomfort, and to prepare quick meals. I have set my eyes on returning home later this week although it has been a blessing to be here with friends.

Gratitude is pervasive. Once my energy returns more I will write more in depth about my experience but for now I am keeping my posts short. I am going to practic the words of St. Francis and take a bit of a nap for now. To the residents of Manitoba who were planning on planting gardens, barbecuing, or hiking: Happy snow day! May you find something spectacular to do with a curveball that you are tossed today.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Why Do We Stand?

Posted on May 17, 2015 by sstyves

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In the opening chapter of Acts today, there is a synopsis to Theophilus about how Jesus was taken up to heaven and how two men in white appeared suddenly, asking why the apostles were standing there, looking up to heaven.  What do we do when the inexplicable happens? How do we stand in Mystery?

These past few months I too perhaps have kept my eyes heavenward. Since the news of a large tumour in my liver at the end of 2014, I have leaned heavily on Christ. He has not been gone from my side. The Risen and Ascended One has been a constant presence in a myriad of forms. Around me, anxiety has filled some family and friends but most had a sense that all would be very well. On this side of surgery, I still am looking up and marvelling at Mystery: an apparently successful surgery, the provision of all my needs, a remarkable recovery that brings me each day a little closer to wholeness again, and an inner calmness that prevails most of the time.

It does not mean I do not have my moments of being overwhelmed. I have several friends with cancer right now and we are all in wait mode. Each of us is on a difficult journey of treatment and healing. Today’s Gospel shows Jesus telling his Apostles before he ascends that laying hands upon the sick will heal them. A multitude of hands from across the globe have been placed on me and kind, devoted folks continue to raise prayers for a complete healing. I envision each of us who wait as whole and healed. The Great Physician has this. This is  my attitude as I wait. I am grateful for all that has happened thus far in my recovery. Stand looking upwards with me and proclaim the Good News to all. Why?  We want to keep our eyes on Christ and hold on to the One who has gone before us  and knows the plans for each one of us. Stand with me in joy and hope.

Peace,

Suzanne

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Lady’s Mantle

Posted on May 16, 2015 by sstyves

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Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of joy. This is from Psalm 47, today’s responsorial psalm. I feel the need to stand and give God a standing ovation. I am slowly  recovering from major surgery and yet at the same time making tremendous leaps along the way. God has created the body so miraculously it is hard not to be in awe.

I am walking, climbing stairs, eating, and gaining strength a step at a time. My attention still wanders a bit, sometimes due to pain and at other times just needing to rest. While I have been having somewhat lucid conversations since surgery, on occasion I find words missing or thoughts forgotten midstream. Certain personalities ignite my spirit while others stifle the spark. My buffer zones are precarious and that is the reason the no visitor rules remain in place. Naturally, the main reason is to limit exposure to germs. I need to stay well.

All this time, I have felt the mantle of Our Lady and her Son around me. That powerful protection seems to remain intact still. I do not pretend to understand it. I simply accept it gratefully.  When I was in Paris at Rue du Bac, as I left the Miraculous Medal Chapel, I looked up and there were statues of St. Catherine and Mary, above the exit to the compound  The protection of God is always there read the inscription. Even now as I recuperate, I sense the deep Truth of that simple belief.

Do you feel the protection of God wrapping you closely?

Peace,

Suzanne

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Resting is Work

Posted on May 15, 2015 by sstyves

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Who knew that resting could be so hard? I have been out of hospital just two days and this is the time I find the hardest. I should be asleep but I am not. These first moments of trying to get comfortable in bed are challenging. My afternoon nap is so much easier. I sometimes think perhaps if I gave up the nap, I would sleep fine but I doubt it. Now is when my body feels the weight of the day’s work–get up out of bed, make breakfast, walk, rest, rest, breathe, drink fluids, read Scripture of the day, rest some more, and then begin to think about lunch.

I know people want to visit but I am still placing limits on people coming by until I feel more comfortable and less tired.  Being socially engaged is not particularly restful at this point and so I thank you for your patience as I practice loving myself as my neighbour. I am still needing to carve out boundaries in this recovery process, especially because I apparently look and sound great. My energy though surprisingly high needs to be preserved. I know you will be patient with me.

Tonight I am going to try to sleep on the couch instead of a bed. My naps are usually deep and restful here. We will see if I can replicate them for overnight sleep. I am not doing a lot during the days but they seem to fly by until this time. This morning was bright and sunny and I began the day by taking a walk around the garden where I am staying. This was a soul-filled experience of great beauty and a fantastic beginning to my day. From the photo, one can see that the surroundings are idyllic and exactly what one needs after all I have been through.

Now I am turning off and heading to bed with the hopes of a deep and restorative sleep.

Peace,

Suzanne

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