Calling Up the Love

Another girlfriend is facing a cancer surgery next week.  She requires a hysterectomy, and has some underlying health issues that stand to magnify her recovery time.  It's easy to imagine all the things she's thinking about, but she appears calm.

I wrote a poem once about how we are like the surface of the river.  I call it "Surfaces."

     Look at the gentle river as the wind blows upon her face.
     The smooth surface appears so peaceful here at this quiet place.

    You see my gentle smile and tell me I look so serene.
     The surface tells you nothing of what is in between.

     My thoughts are complicated, but on the outside they don't show.
     Tormented by old memories, I can't seem to let them go.

     With the undertow of current pulling always underneath,
     Like the muddy river bottom, my thoughts never seem to sleep.

     While I gaze at the quiet water I feel a sister-bond.
     Our surfaces are molded by the wind, and rain, and sun.

   The wind of anger and hateful words, the rain of tears that heal,
     And the bright sun of love to warm these deep crevices I feel.

     River surface so smooth and peaceful, teach me also how to be
     This quiet, gentle person, for all the world to see.

The mist of uncertainty seem to wrap around our thoughts when we are facing medical issues.  Living with arthritis for the last 15 years or so requires lots of effort to cast off the grayness of chronic discomfort.

I agree with Joan Erikson, that vital living is all about action and touch.  She said that's where we find the wisdom - in what we're doing and feeling.  Stepping out of the fog of the gray day,  daring to be different, that's the way to go.


I read once where women in general expect  to have all their emotional needs met by their husbands, their soul-mates, but that just isn't possible, that it takes girlfriends to offer the talking , and that shoring-up-confidence to help us through life.  No single person can be the end-all savior we want, because only Jesus can perform that miracle.

Thinking back on the stages of life I've gone through, it's true:  girlfriends are necessary!  They share the joys and concerns (time and again if you want to talk about it again and again). Best of all, they  sometimes laugh with you with that pee-your-pants wildness that is unbridled return to childhood.

Then, at times like this with my brave friend facing a level of uncertainty like never before, I want to be there to hold her hand, to pray with her or not, talk or not, just let her know she's got a friend in me.

I remember a day a few years ago,  in the last week of life for one of my knitting friends, Gretchen.  She couldn't knit anymore, but she wanted a couple of us to come over and knit at her bedside.  So, we did.  We talked, laughed, and in doing that, we saw below the surface of her pain and felt  our steadfast love for one another. We were her stretcher-bearers.  It was a beautiful visit, and I can see her face as clear as yesterday.  I feel grateful today for that memory, that friendship.

Each of us shares the surface poem, but with time and effort, we can make friends who can help us walk out of those stubborn gray days.  The Psalms ask, "Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart."  I want to thank each of my friends for their presence in my life, and I hope I can call up the love that this friend needs, and that God will show me, specifically,  how to love her through this season of her life.