Choosing to Do Nothing

"I just don't want to do anything,"  Anthony told me.

"Are you sure?"  I asked him.  "A lot of cancers are treatable with chemotherapy, or radiation.  I'm not an expert on the subject, but maybe it would be better to talk to one -- at least to know your options."

"No," Anthony said firmly.  "My mind is made up, I don't want to do any of those things.  I know I'm going to die, but so are we all some day -- I'm just going to die a little sooner than some others."

Anthony had some kind of neck cancer -- we knew that from his CT Scan.  What cell type it was exactly and how treatable it was, we didn't know.

"How long do you think I have, Doc?"  He asked me.

These are the sorts of questions that have no good answers.  "I don't really know," I said.  "Maybe a year?"

We talked on about different things, many of them not particularly medical.  As we neared the close of the visit, I felt a need to consult a Greater Physician.

I'm just a simple family doctor.  I don't know all the answers, but I know someone who does.

"Could we pray together?"  I asked him.

"Yes, I'd like that,"  Anthony said.

As I prayed, I asked for healing -- for some divine removal of his cancer.  I suppose more than that, I prayer for strength and peace for him in the coming days.

I know that I was praying just as much for myself for those things.  For, it is hard for a doctor to stand by and not try to "do something" to treat an illness and yet the most important thing is to affirm my patient's wishes.

Prayer is a bridge that helps us cross dark waters.  It is something that unites as well, for I know when I finished, we both had tears in our eyes.

"Thank you," the other man told me.  "I've never had a doctor pray for me before."

"You're welcome."

"Dr. Waldron," he told me.  "You know, I'm not afraid to die.  It's the road that I'm going to take to get there that scares me a little bit."

"Well,"  I said.  "I'll do everything I can to maybe you comfortable, but more than that, I know God will be with you every step of the way."

That's all that any of us can ask for.

Blinded!

"Dad, I can't see!"  Vince wailed at me.

We had just sledded down our hill together and hit a clump of fresh powder that flew up in both of our faces.  Apparently, some of the snow had gotten in my son's eyes.

"You'll be fine, Vince," I said.  "The nice thing about snow is that it melts."

"I'm blind, Dad, and you just don't care!"  He shot back at me.

Fortunately, Vince isn't blind, just a little melodramatic.  By the time we started walking up the hill, his sight had miraculously recovered, although his spirits hadn't.

Blindness is a difficult thing to deal with.  These days, most of the blindness that I see develops, not from sledding accidents, but gradually from diseases like diabetes and macular degeneration.  Whether it happens gradually or quickly, losing one's sight is not a laughing matter.

At the same time, even though there are fewer people with physical blindness, there are just as many people with spiritual blindness in this world.  And it is a lot harder thing to cure.

It is hard to deal with, because we don't really want to see ourselves as we are, to evaluate the motives that are behind our actions and understand how we come across to others.  It is easier to remain blind and pretend that we are good hearted, well intentioned people who are a joy to our friends and family, rather than sinners in need of a Savior.

John Newton wrote three hundred years ago, in the song Amazing Grace, that he had been "lost, but now was found, was blind but now I see." 

It is Jesus's redeeming work in a life that brings vision and healing.  It is His touch which drops the scales from our eyes and His power that allows us to walk in victory.

Beautiful Snow!

It is southern Indiana -- a place where the temperature can drop from fifty degrees to twenty degrees over the course of a few hours -- and one of our favorite past times here is complaining about the weather.  When, as happened last weekend, there falls a blanket of white stuff from the sky, it really brings out the moans from the locals.

I suppose it is understandable.  It really does make driving more treacherous and if you have to get somewhere, your stress level on arriving may be just below the boiling point.  At the same time, it never seems to help folks around here to realize that there are places out west where they get three hundred plus inches of snow a year.

Even more, snow adds such beauty to the gray days and landscapes around us.  It as though, for a few days, the gray brown grass and fields are covered in a beautiful wedding gown that shimmers in the cold winter's light.

I would rather keep the snow around for awhile -- not for sledding or, making snow angels and snowmen -- but for the beauty that it brings to this cold and dark time of year. 

There is beauty in every season, but I am afraid that we are a little too stressed sometimes to notice it.  It doesn't change the beauty to complain, but it certainly does rob us of a little enjoyment that we could have otherwise had.

Snow does bring its challenges, but before we lift a snow shovel, or get behind the wheel to brave the elements, we should stop for a moment to wonder at the beauty before us.  For, He has made everything beautiful in His time -- even an otherwise drab, winter Indiana landscape.

Honest Prayers

We do devotions as a family every evening.  When Elliot was two and it was his turn to pray, he received some "guidance."

One evening, Elaine was praying with him.  "Dear Jesus, thank you for my family," Elliot dutifully repeated.  "And help Anna feel better,"  once again Elliot repeated the prayer.  "And help me to be an obedient boy."

After this there came a pause and Elliot looked up at his mother.  "No," he said.  "I don't want to say that."

I was struck by the honesty of our two year old.  He didn't want to be obedient, so why pray for help in that area?

I had to ask myself as well, how many times I had prayed words asking for victory in some area that I was unwilling to yield to Jesus.

In Luke, Jesus tells the story of a dishonest judge who finally gives justice to a poor widow, because she plagues him until he gives in.  Will not God, who is just and loving, listen more to His children who cry out to Him?  The key to this story is that the widow truly wanted what she was asking for.  She wanted it so much that she could think of little else but her court case.

So often, the things that we want are not the important things.  Improvements in pay, safety in travel, and even health are not nearly as important as growing closer to God.  And so we mouth words asking for the important things -- growth and victory -- even while we desire a lot of trivial things.

God so often gives us what we want, not what we ask for.  I guarantee that He will not help Elliot obey, if Elliot's heart is set on disobedience.