A Profound Shock, a Puzzle and Prayer for Healing. by Trevor Thorn
The
Shock
Since I last posted here a month ago, our world has been
upended and we are still in some degree of shock. A protracted cough with
accompanying breathlessness lead to a series of scans and a diagnosis that I had
Lung Cancer – treatable but not curable, said the doctor. Suddenly everything
is a puzzle; everything is an anxiety. Shock abounds, made all the more
baffling by the fact that I had never, ever smoked; not even an exploratory
teenage puff!
However, A further investigation
(bronchoschopy with biopsies) revealed that the condition is not Lung Cancer
but Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. So, still a cancer necessitating chemotherapy and
probably other treatment, but, we are told by the medics, and through hearing
of other peoples’ experiences, that this is both treatable and curable. Treatment
started within days giving a profound sense of relief, that there is hope
extending beyond just a few months - or even, just weeks. What a difference!
As we have reflected on the uncertainties
we still face, we have to recognize that this personal awfulness is little compared
to that faced by the brutalized people of Aleppo, those desperately risking
crossing the Mediterranean and literally millions of oppressed people across
the globe. We are even more fortunate, in that Addenbrookes hospital, renowned
for its skills and research, is only half an hour away. We are, by comparison, mightily,
mightily blessed – but we are, nevertheless, inevitably anxious about what the
future might hold for us.
As well as having this remarkable medical
facility close by, we have been greatly comforted by the assurance of prayers
of many, many friends, both here in the UK and abroad and we give grateful
thanks to them all for that very special support.
The
Puzzle.
We know from other people, and are now
experiencing it ourselves, just how hard it is amidst such uncertainty and
upheaval, to pray for ourselves – it feels as if we are simply letting our many
friends shoulder that burden. I know in the past we have suggested to others
that is something God entirely understands, but it still has a puzzling sense
of not easily being able to ‘play our part’ in this outpouring of other
peoples’ compassion and love. Even though we have over many years been involved
in the ministry of healing and walked alongside others who have been suffering
in a variety of ways, this aspect still feels a puzzle. However, as I lay awake
one night just as the treatment started, during a somewhat ‘dark watch’, an
idea occurred.
Prayer
for Healing.
I would find it difficult to ‘batter’ God
with pleas for a restoration to health.
But I have, since encountering it through a
talk by Bishop Simon Barrington-Ward, (former Bishop of Coventry) been
fascinated by the many possibilities there seem to be of using ‘The Jesus
Prayer’. I have written elsewhere on my own blog (link below) of using the
Prayer in its traditional way of being a preparation for prayer and of framing
it as a confessional prayer. At a wholly different, and some might think, a
trivial level, I have found it a great comfort at times I have not been able to
sleep. It bathes that time in prayer and is immensely more helpful than
counting animals jumping gates! (at least it is for me). As I moved into that
cycle of petition that night, I realized the prayer could easily accommodate an
extra phrase, which would readily reflect my present condition. So I tested it,
Lord
Jesus Christ,
Son
of God,
To
whom the sick cried out for help,
Have
mercy upon me, a sinner.
As with the whole of the original prayer,
in praying it, we are joined with the complete nature of Christ, his deity and
his love and it seems to me the extra line highlights his compassion and draws
us into that particular aspect of our Saviour’s love as we repeat the prayer.
The Jesus Prayer is, as observed by many, a way of moving closer towards St
Paul’s otherwise difficult injunction (for many of us) to ‘pray at all times,
without ceasing’ (1 Thessalonians 5.17). So, with each repetition, I remind
myself of the healing power of the Saviour and by implication call on Him to
help me – and all those others who need his succour. (In the form I have written this above, the new line, in italics, is
historically correct: some may prefer to frame the line in the present tense.)
So, perhaps others may find this a way of
bringing their awkward feelings about self-focused personal petitions into
Christ’s presence and if this proves helpful, then I will be glad.
Now we are nearing the end of the first
three week treatment cycle and this has been another cause for thankfulness. I
have experienced none of the horrid effects that can follow the day of
infusions and I still have my hair (O vanity!). Again, how much more difficult that must be for women: for me, it will only mean I will share a hairstyle with every one of our next generation males! Maybe the next cycle will be
different; the first is, apparently the easiest to assimilate for most patients.
So uncertainty persists and that is part of the condition. How good will we be
at handling the protracted uncertainty. The mind is an unpredictable part of us
as many of us know well.
But, of one thing, we are very sure. It is
good to be surrounded by Christian friends and acquaintances at a time like
this – and to know that God himself walks alongside us.
And, with that in mind, we would, of
course, value YOUR prayers too.
I will most surely be praying, Trevor
ReplyDeleteThanks Aggie, Much appreciated. Trevor
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear you're not well, Trevor, but glad that God has given you some hope in the midst of this. I'll keep you in my prayers.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Fiona
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to hear this, Trevor - but thank God it wasn't the first diagnosis! My former boss, much beloved by many, went through Hodgkin's when he was in his early 20s and leukaemia twelve years later, when I was working for him. He's still around, 65 this year, now ordained and doing fine (though the docs said they only knew of 7 cases in the UK of people having all he'd had, and the other 6 had died!). Just to amuse you, your comment about counting animals jumping over gates reminded me that I used to count rats jumping over a bowl of soup - it's a long story...
ReplyDeleteMany thanks Veronica. Encouraging to hear of others that have come through. Maybe the rats and the bowl of soup could feature here sometime! It certainly sound intriguing. Did any ever fall in?
ReplyDelete