Cancer at Christmas Remembered by Alan Anderson

 

Memories of Cancer 2017

Readers of my blog posts might see a resemblance to a post I wrote in December 2022. You might be new to my posts, however. I pray the memories I revisit in this post bring comfort to anyone in need of hope. As I begin, here is a poem I wrote in 2022 as I remembered Cancer at Christmas 2017.

 

Cancer At Christmas: a husband’s poem for his wife

By Alan Anderson

November 3, 2022

The news is more than sad, but this year

we celebrate Christmas,

not cancer.

I will be honest in my heart,

share cries and whimpers,

feel numb,

shake a fist at heaven.

My head held up only by my hands,

offers you, my love, who brings me this news,

a face wet with tears,

frozen fear.

Why God, I ask, would there be cancer

at Christmas? Help me, I pray, help

my darling.

My love—you amaze me.

Yes, you live.

Yes, we live.

We hang decorations, drink eggnog,

romance each other, your words slipping

out like healing hands, touching me,

but it’s me who wants to support you.

We celebrate Christmas,

not cancer.

In this together,

we hold on.

Never let go of the moment,

any moment.

This illness will not last forever.

We have peace, stillness.

So, my love, sleep like a baby

in the arms of He who loves us.

God is not dumbfounded,

by this fiend,… cancer.

Joy is our companion.

We weep, yes,

Yet we rejoice. We are not alone.

Immanuel, God with us,

Is unseen yet present.

Let Him love us.

Let me hold you, my love, you, not cancer.

This year,

We celebrate Christmas.

Cancer News Memories

The prompt for this month’s post states, “December is a month filled with story, the story of God reaching down in love. This month’s prompt asks you to share a story about Christmas. It can be funny, poignant, sad, or inspirational.”

As I read over and pondered our writing prompt, memories of November 2017 flooded my mind. I took this also as a prompt to revisit my December 2022 blog post. In my experience after hearing news of my wife’s cancer in 2017, three words from the cancer surgeon live in my mind.

When the surgeon stated these three words, “You have cancer,” to my wife, Terry, in October 2017, my first thought was, “No, not again!” Her first experience with cancer occurred when our children were still toddlers. We didn’t know what to expect then, nor did we in 2017.

Christmas 2017 came with a gentle embrace of a peace that passes all understanding. We also expected in January 2018, Terry would undergo uterine cancer surgery.

Memories of Healing

I will remember January 8, 2018, forever. Terry had her surgery on that day to arrest her uterine cancer. Her surgeon was a compassionate healer. Prior to the operation, he informed me it would take anywhere from forty-five to ninety minutes. Thanks be to God; Terry’s surgery lasted only thirty-five minutes. She has been cancer-free now for almost eight years, and we thank God for His love and mercy on us.

A Reflection to Share with You

In times of personal struggle, it helps to know we are not alone. I am conscious of the possibility someone reading this post might be going through cancer or some other life-changing experience right now. May God show His mercy, love, and grace to you.

Terry and I know what it is like to stay awake at night wondering what the outcome of this experience will be. Please know this. We are here for you to offer comfort, even though miles separate us. Message me if you need someone to listen without trying to fix you. We all need someone sometimes.

You are not alone. Your illness, your tears, do not take God by surprise. Dear ones, not even cancer can separate us from the love of God. 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog is https://scarredjoy.ca.

Healing, Writing, and the Care of InScribe Souls by Alan Anderson

 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”—Matthew 11:28, 29 (NIV)

 

Healing and the Care of Souls

NOTE: My mention of healing in this message is in reference to emotional or spiritual healing.

 

A Personal Ponder

While I prepared this blog post and for reasons beyond me my writing energy gave way to thoughts about our InScribe membership. Thoughts I pondered about InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, are the motivation for this post.

Every so often within our InScribe membership we hear of deaths, illness, or other life changing experiences. We care for each other especially in these times. Why do we care so much? We care because InScribe is more than a writer’s group. I hope you agree with me.

 

Words Heal

When I ministered as a local church pastor I recognized a teaching role of the church membership. They taught me skills like patience, the need for community, and what it means to listen. They also taught me about my primary expression of how God gifted me to serve people. This blessed lesson motivated me to redirect my servant heart to healthcare chaplaincy.

When asked to come alongside people a good chaplain knows when to use words. Words, if needed, come after we listen. Words often heal when we come alongside a hurting soul. In this being the case, we choose our words with caution.

Write to Heal

As a pastoral student, I was taught sermons must be meaningful to the pastor before they are preached for others. I follow a similar direction as a writer. What I write must be meaningful to me as a writer before I send it out into the world. What I write must include words to hopefully bring a sense of healing to those who read them.

What I write must also be a respectful and loving reflection on InScribe. I see InScribe as my writing community, but also a community of care.

I have written for our blog for several years. When Tracy Schmidt Nagel Krauss, asked me to write for the blog I felt like my teacher asked me to speak in front of my class. Once my nerves came back into line, I accepted this great honour.

I give thanks to God and members of InScribe for helping me to develop my voice as a writer. My whole reason to write is summed up in my desire to bring a sense of healing and hope to my readers. Through the encouragement of members of InScribe I also developed the tagline for my writing. I write as one, “Touched by grief, yet held by hope.”

Healing Words of Care for Our InScribe Family

One’s physical presence in coming alongside a person who suffers, may bring healing, at least in the moment. As a chaplain I witnessed healing in the context of serious illness or the dying process. Such healing may come in the form of holding hands, a gentle touch on a loved one’s forehead, or a quiet whisper like, “It’s okay darling, you can go now, I’ll be alright.”

If geographical distance is not a challenge, we, as members of InScribe can chat with each other at a coffee shop or ice cream store. We can meet at a park and share a picnic lunch. We can come alongside each other at times of personal or family health crisis. We can hold each other’s hands to let each other know we are not alone. If you are a hugger like me, we can comfort each other with a hug. If words miss the mark even as writers, our physical presence may speak volumes.

On the other hand, perhaps physical presence is not always possible. Members of InScribe are often separated by miles, but we can still show we care. We can put our words into action through such tools as emails, letters, phone calls, post cards, Messenger, and social media platforms.

Perhaps even now, this minute, there may be a reason to reach out to an InScribe family member. Don’t wait, do it now.

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled “Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry.” Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.

 

Cancer at Christmas by Alan Anderson

 

Cancer News

 

“You have cancer.” These three words were directed at my wife five years ago, in October 2017. I remember my first thought after this message penetrated my brain. “No, not again!”

 

 

Christmas 2017 soon settled in on us. We experienced a sense of peace stronger than our upset. Here is a response to how we processed our cancer reality in the 2017 Christmas season.

 

“By faith, I recognize trials give evidence that even in this experience my wife is going through, we can rejoice together. This is not saying that we think cancer is good or that I am happy my wife has cancer. I can say we can be joyful, for God knows all about it. This trial has not taken God by surprise. He has given us assurance of his love and comfort in a very real way.”

https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/37258556/7108807865702777159

 

 

Thank God for Healing

 

In mid-November 2017, a friend at church gave us some healing oil he had brought from the Holy Virgin Cathedral in San Francisco. Terry’s cancer experience included a bleeding issue we were concerned about. We used the oil as a step of faith and prayed God would heal her. The next morning, the bleeding stopped, never to return. We didn’t try to explain it but accepted it as from God. His love, mercy, and will are stronger than our skepticism.

 

 

On January 8, 2018, Terry had surgery to arrest her uterine cancer. Her surgeon presented himself as a compassionate healer. Thanks be to God, Terry’s surgery lasted only thirty-five minutes. Prior to the operation, the surgeon informed me it would take anywhere from forty-five to ninety minutes. Even the surgeon was surprised at the surgery’s duration.

 

To date, Terry has been cancer free for almost five years. We do not take this measure of healing for granted. Instead, we thank God for His love and mercy on us.

 

A Reflection

 

In times of personal struggle, I retreat to the ever-ready embrace of poetry. Here is a poem I wrote as my reflection of Terry’s cancer experience.

 

 

Cancer At Christmas: a husband’s poem for his wife

 

The news is more than sad, but this year

we celebrate Christmas,

not cancer.

 

I will be honest in my heart,

share cries and whimpers,

feel numb,

shake a fist at heaven.

 

My head held up only by my hands,

offers you, my love, who brings me this news,

a face wet with tears,

frozen fear.

 

Why God, I ask, would there be cancer

at Christmas? Help me, I pray, help

my darling.

 

My love—you amaze me.

Yes, you live.

Yes, we live.

 

We hang decorations, drink eggnog,

romance each other, your words slipping

out like healing hands, touching me,

but it’s me who wants to support you.

 

We celebrate Christmas,

not cancer. In this together,

we hold on.

 

Never let go of the moment,

any moment.

 

This illness will not be forever.

We have peace, stillness.

 

So, my love, sleep like a baby

in the arms of He who loves us.

God is not dumbfounded,

by this fiend,… cancer.

 

Joy is our companion.

We weep, yes,

Yet we rejoice. We are not alone.

 

Immanuel, God with us,

Is unseen yet present.

 

Let Him love us.

Let me hold you, my love, you, not cancer.

This year,

 We celebrate Christmas.

 

 

Dear Reader Friends

If you or a loved one are living with an illness, please know you are not alone. Your illness, your tears, do not take God by surprise. Dear ones, not even cancer can separate us from the love of God.

 

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry. Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.

The Hug that Unlocked My Heart by Steph Beth Nickel

 

A few months ago, still in the thick of COVID restrictions, we helped dear friends move. They have regularly helped us. So, we volunteered without hesitation.

Sandra has had the best parts of 100 surgeries on her leg and several hospital stays. Because of the extreme pain she regularly experiences, we don't get together as often as either of us would like. Even so, I consider her one of my dearest friends.

Let me take you back to our first encounter on the phone. Her family had just begun attending our church. Because she was at a physical low point, she had not yet joined them. I, therefore, didn't know if her hubby was a single dad or if she was a believer. I called to see if her family would be attending the potluck at the church and to ask what they'd be bringing. I didn't feel I was being abrupt, but it came across that way.

Years later, long after we'd become great friends, she admitted that, as a result of our first telephone conversation, she thought I didn't like her. Never underestimate the impact of your interactions with others, especially those first conversations.

I laugh and cringe when I think back on this revelation. I'm so incredibly thankful for God's mercy and grace and the precious friendship that has developed over the last almost 30 years.

Until the pandemic hit, four couples would regularly get together at a restaurant during the Christmas season to enjoy one another's company. I deemed our group the Crazy Eights. Trust me. The staff and other patrons were glad when we had a table off in a quiet corner because it wouldn't be quiet for long. Let's just say, we enjoyed one another's company—a. lot.

I consider these get-togethers among my happiest memories. Even though the restrictions have eased some, for various reasons, I'm not sure we'll all get together anytime soon. 

Another memory stands out in my mind. I spent an hour or so visiting with Sandra when she was in the hospital many years ago. As I was leaving, she matter-of-factly stated, "I love you." I was blown away. Although I'd heard those words countless times over the years, never before had a friend said them so unironically, so naturally, so surprisingly.

This is the kind of friend Sandra has been over the years, despite the fact that she originally thought that I didn't like her. So, you can see why it was a no-brainer to help this precious family relocate—thankfully, not too far away.

Well, as I was standing in her new kitchen, Sandra gave me a hug. Not a shoulder squeeze. A full-fledged hug. 

And that's when it happened ...

The door to a room in my heart that I didn't even know was shut, locked, and barred closed swung WIDE OPEN.

All because of a hug.

Some of you have lost loved ones to COVID, and my heart hurts for you.

Some of you have contracted the virus and are still suffering its long-term effects. May God strengthen you and restore you to full health.

While we may not have been impacted so directly, I believe we've all suffered loss because of COVID-19. 

I wasn't aware how desperately I needed a hug from a friend. It's such a simple act, but one with unimaginable power.

If you're not comfortable hugging or shaking hands at this point, don't underestimate the power of a phone call; an in-person physically distanced visit; or a card popped into the mail.

You may be the one with a hurting heart or you may be instrumental in healing someone else's hurt. Most likely, a simple act of love will unlock both your hearts and fill a void neither of you may have been aware of.

No wonder the Bible says, "A friend loves at all times, and a brother [or sister] is born for adversity" (Proverbs 17:17 ESV).

The Hope of Tears in Painful Times By Bob Jones

“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” (Romans 12:12, ESV)

Henri Nouwen wrote in his book, The Return of the Prodigal Son, that "it is often difficult to believe that there is much to think, speak or write about other than brokenness."

The themes of affliction, brokenness, prayer, tenacity, hope, and joy have been constants in my pastoral and writing journeys. When I show up on a Sunday to share a message with congregations I know their one common experience will be pain of some measure. When I write, I know readers will relate to stories of setbacks, tears, and comebacks.

Ancient advice to followers of Jesus is timeless wisdom for today: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.” (Romans 12:12, ESV) These trilogies of trust create a therapeutic framework for tears.

The Metamorphosis of Your Soul

Tears are the language of the soul. When they are turned toward God, they are never wasted nor shed in vain. Though often shunned by man they are treasured by God.

Many Hebrew words for grieving, weeping and lamentation actually mean “to distill,” which means to “separate and change from one substance to another.” This word beautifully describes God’s renewing work in the midst of our tears. In the life long metamorphosis of our souls, God is continually transforming us into the image of Christ. The tears we pour out at the feet of Jesus, both joyful and sad, are the distillation of God’s eternal work in our lives.

Ken Gire wrote in Windows of the Soul, “In each tear is distilled something of eternity, something of love and compassion and tenderness, all things that originate in heaven and come to earth as a sacrament to the soul.” The closest communion with God comes through the sacrament of tears. Just as grapes are crushed to make wine and grain to make bread, so the elements of this sacrament come from the crushing experiences of life. So much is distilled in our tears, not the least of which is wisdom in living life. 

Going Forward Through Pain

I have frequently shared at funerals that if you follow your tears you will find your heart. If you find your heart you will find what is important to God. And if you find what is important to God you will know the answer to how you should go forward with your life.

I am assisting a woman to write her story of childhood sexual abuse. Through her tears she found what was important to God. As an eight-year-old she attended the same church as her abuser. He was family and a respected member of his community. Her little girl prayers were answered in adult life when she found healing. She turned her pain into hope by building a world class centre of recovery for survivors of childhood sexual abuse. Jesus is distilling her tears into personal renewal and for the brokenness suffered by boys and girls.   

Jesus will do the same for you, and through you as a writer. 

Please leave a comment below.

I am a recovering perfectionist who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks iced tea. My walls are adorned with our sons’ framed football jerseys, and my bookshelves, with soul food. 

I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

Please follow my writing at REVwords.com

You're Going To Be OK by Bob Jones

There is beauty in brokenness. Broken things can be restored. And so can broken people.

As NJ Lindquist says, “what could be more beautiful than people becoming what God intended them to be and having some small part as a writer in their transformation.”

When holding my favorite fountain to begin crafting the stories of fighters, I hear a voice. Some Christian writers hear the Holy Spirit’s voice.  I hear Barry Manilow. The lyric, “I write the songs that make the whole world sing” morphs into, “I write the heroics that give the whole world hope.”

Hope is the anchor of the soul. What broken people have in common is a need for hope. Against a tsunami of suffering, an anchor of hope can secure one more day of life.

You feel overwhelmed.

Scared.

Fighting for air.

If your world is a mess it doesn’t mean that you have to be one.

You were in our thoughts and our prayers when Jocelyn and I wrote the book, You’re Going To Be OK. We share stories of eleven women who fight cancer, sexual abuse, mental illness and loss. The stories are true. Truth sets people free. The opening story is about a woman in her forties who has fought all four Goliaths.

A book or a short story – your short story - can be an answer to someone’s prayer. That’s why I encourage fledgling writers to start with telling their story. Just a week ago I had breakfast with a pastor in Manitoba named Jake who wants to be a writer. He told me his story.

“Writers write. Start with your story, Jake. Your experiences can be the healing words for a reader. Put your tears, the fears and the divine encounters down on paper.”

There is one thing You’re Going To Be OK offers you.

Without this one thing even the smallest tasks, let alone life and death issues are impossible.

Without this one thing couples give up on their marriage, parents give up on their teens, leaders give up on their people, people give up on their future.

You can survive for 40 days without food, about 3 days without water, and about 8 minutes without air.

You don’t want to go a single second without this one thing.

That one thing is HOPE.

That’s why Jocelyn and I envision ourselves as hope dispensers. We've experienced the power of hope in our lives and are sharing it freely with others.

Your anchor of hope is available through Amazon.ca.

I am a recovering perfectionist who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks iced tea. My walls are adorned with our sons’ framed football jerseys, and my bookshelves, with soul food. 

I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

You can follow my writing at REVwords

God is Present in Every Circumstance by Lynn Dove

I was going to Aquacise three times a week in preparation for swimsuit weather in the summer.  This was going to be the year I was finally going to take charge of my increasing waistline, get in better shape and become much more active.  That’s not to say I wasn’t active before, but I thought starting my 6^th decade, it was time to think about the retirement years coming up and I was in such serious denial about it, I wanted to push the hands of time backward a bit!  I’m not a fan of New Year’s resolutions, but I felt duly motivated to get a membership in January to our local sports centre and faithfully began swimming three times a week.  I was winning the bulge battle and I was feeling great…until the first week of April.

I didn’t understand why I wasn’t dropping weight.  In fact, I was actually starting to feel uncomfortably rotund in the tummy region.  The ballooning bulge became more and more burdensome; I wondered if there was some kind of obstruction, and within two weeks of experiencing pain and discomfort I reluctantly called my family doctor.  Within days of that meeting with the doctor, I had an ultra-sound, a CT scan, and was booked to visit a surgical oncologist at the Tom Baker Cancer centre in Calgary. 

To say I was shocked by this turn of events was a vast understatement.  I had been cancer-free for just about nineteen years, after breast cancer in 2001.  Now I was facing another cancer diagnosis, with the discovery of a large fast-growing mass on my right ovary.  With my past health history, everything seemed to be fast tracked for me to get in to see doctors, finally ending with extensive surgery to remove the mass on May 13^th. 

Where was God in this?

He was EVERYWHERE!

I had no way of knowing what these last few weeks (and the months ahead) would hold in store for me but God did.  Being prone to blood clotting issues, I needed to be in good shape to endure the rigours of surgery and to be able to heal quickly afterwards.  God used a friend to nudge me into going with her to an Aquacise class in early January.  It was so much fun and kick-started my fitness goals that helped strengthen my body and made me stay the course right up until April.  Doctors said it was “remarkable” how quickly I have bounced back from surgery.  I credit some of that to the months of exercise leading up to surgery.  Who knew?  God did!

When my discomfort began, I was ready to just chalk it up to normal aches and pains associated with working out harder than I had before, but when the pain persisted, I prayed for direction and felt prompted to call my doctor.  As much as I thought the wait was a long and excruciating one to get in to see doctors and finally undergo surgery, it was just over six weeks in total.  That’s pretty quick in the health-care scheme of things!  Through that waiting time, the Lord spoke to me through His Word daily.  He gave me peace in the midst of uncertainty and laid on the hearts of so many people to pray for me.  The prayers continue!

One of my biggest disappointments was having to cancel our 40^th Anniversary cruise.  I actually wrote about my excitement leading up to that cruise on the InScribe blog in March.  “We've had our share of many peaceful cruises on life's ocean, intermingled with some unexpected tidal surges and rough waves over these past forty years.  Still, we keep walking hand in hand, looking forward, full speed ahead, our eyes focused on the horizon and praying for calm waters in the years ahead.” I had no way of knowing when I wrote that post that another storm surge was coming up for us so soon, but God did!  My husband had been pro-active in getting trip insurance and all the costs were covered so we could recoup all monies spent.  I was still upset about not going on this “trip of a lifetime” but then we started to think about the “what ifs?”

What if I had gotten sick overseas?  What if I had to be admitted to hospital in Rome?  The more we added up the “what ifs?” the more we praised God for His impeccable timing.  Here at home, I got the medical help exactly when I needed it!  Had I elected to set sail and ignore the nagging symptoms rather than seek help when I did, well, that’s a “what if?” I don’t like to ponder upon right now. 

Of course, I have experienced my share of “down” days during the waiting period leading up to surgery.  I will no doubt experience more lows in the weeks and months ahead as I come to terms with a new cancer diagnosis.  There were times before my surgery when I felt disheartened and too weak and vulnerable to move, let alone to write.  I specifically asked friends to pray, and I felt those prayers envelope me like a warm hug.  On one such day, I asked God to encourage me and within hours I learned I was up for two Word Awards that celebrates Christian writing in Canada.  It was such a timely encouragement for me that it instantly propelled me out of my emotional doldrums, and has revitalized me in ways I never imagined.  (I have gotten clearance by my doctor to fly so I am able to attend the Gala in Hamilton.  I am beyond excited to be there!")

God has surrounded me with caring individuals who have fed us and even cleaned my home!  I am so thankful for those practical ministrations that allow me to rest and recover.  I am thankful for an army of prayer warriors who lift me before the Lord daily.  I will have challenging times in the weeks or months ahead, but I know God is with me.  He never leaves me or forsakes me, and I can trust Him in every circumstance!

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and at lynndove.com  

December’s Healing Touch – Denise M. Ford

December often uncovers how greatly we need to be healed. Our physical conditions become more difficult to endure.  Memories magnify our emotional griefs.  Friend or family gatherings remind us of relationship rifts we need to mend.

As we look toward the birth of Jesus coming to save mankind, I am always reminded of the woman who looked towards Jesus to heal her. And I think of Jesus’s robe, swirling before this woman as she reached to be healed.

Every December during my childhood, my mother sewed beautiful red velvet dresses for my sister and me.  She would carefully pin the hems of our dresses as we turned and modelled them for her.  The brush of velvet would slide over my bare knees and I would feel beautiful, transformed by the smooth folds of soft material.

At this time of year, it is the feeling of brushing against velvet that covers me with healing hope.  What if in the moment when we reach for Jesus’ robe, it feels like red velvet?  I close my eyes and picture myself lying upon it. I am wrapping myself in it.  Over and over again I turn until I am swaddled like a baby, ready to be cradled within loving arms.

I want to reach and tuck that velvet securely beneath me and pull it over me, so that I am not exposed to anyone or anything.  I want to be sure that it would trail behind me and not release me. I know I will begin tossing myself within my doubts and struggles, so I don’t want to cause it to unfurl.

Oh, sweet Jesus, we look with expectation to celebrate your birth. We picture the image of your mother Mary tenderly enfolding you in woven cloth. Oh, I wonder how you felt?  When that first brush of human touch and love held you, did you feel beautiful?

As Mary stroked your cheeks in awe, did she experience a sensation of healing? In that moment after your birth, did the shame and disapproval of her unwed pregnancy dissolve? Did her own disappointment and fears release into relief? Was she healed from her struggles of doubt, her questioning of her faith, and her wavering trust for your coming, for your birth, for her Messiah?

As you grew, Mary clothed you with robes to give you warmth and protection.  Did she know that the threads she spun and wove together couldn’t contain the healing power within you?

As you left your mother’s home, did you throw on one of the robes she had spun for you? Did it comfort you? Her fingers had nimbly selected and lifted each thread for the loom, while her prayers flowed in time to the continual motion. Her prayers voicing her faithful trust in you.

At this time of year, I picture the woman who reached out to touch you as you the Messiah fully grown walked before her.  She grasped for your robe wanting healing, believing that even just a touch, just a stroke from you would heal her.

Did your robe brush against her skin like velvet at Christmastime? 

Ah Jesus, we look with expectation and hope for you, as we lay down our struggles, our griefs, and our hurts.  We know that when we faithfully reach out to grasp hold of your promises, you continue to heal us in the ways you know we need. Your healing touch transforms us as surely and as reassuringly as the brush of velvet at Christmastime.