'Tis the Gift

It's rare that Cathy and I have a quiet moment just to chat.  We had one of those moments last night, though.  Clara was asleep and we were sitting at the kitchen table waiting for the boys to come up from the basement for a family game of Scrabble.  Cathy told me that when she's healed she doesn't want to do so much.  I wasn't shocked to hear her say this, but she hadn't said anything like it in the last six months.  I've been pretty vocal about the changes that I've needed to make in my priorities, but Cathy has been pretty mute on the subject.

It's tempting to go through a list of things that both of us did before cancer and sort them into piles "quit" and "keep doing."  I think both of us have done that already in our own minds.  What we've both realized is that in the process of doing less we've drawn closer to God and to our family.  Personally, I've prayed more in the last six months than in the last six years - and I prayed a lot before.  I also pray differently now. I still do a lot of talking, but now I do more listening.  In terms of family, I know that I am more mentally/emotionally present at home in addition to the obvious increase in time that I am physically present.

Cancer is life changing.  We are clearly still learning - and unlearning.

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right
     'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
     To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed
To turn, turn will be our delight
     Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.

Over the last six months we've done plenty of turning.  We haven't found true simplicity, but we've been pointed in it's general direction.  I feel pretty confident that we can come down where we ought to be and I have faith that we'll see the valley of love and delight - but, not on this earth.  That is a joy, not a disappointment.