Yesterday was an odd mix of emotions for me. I got up very early, earlier than usual, to spend the day with my friend who has cancer. Angie had blood work to be completed very early. So in the beginning of yesterdays sunshine, I picked up my best friend and we rode to the cancer center. She felt bad. It's been a rough week. So much time this week has been spent at the cancer center. She has needed blood, fluids, more blood. But riding in the car, next to my lifelong friend, I felt joy. Even if the time was being spent saturated in this cancer world we now live it, just spending time with my friend brought me unspeakable joy. There is no place I would have rather been than with my friend.
We found out she needed more fluids and platelets. It was going to be a long day again for my friend. We sat while the fluids entered into my friends body. I quietly thanked God that such fluids exist. We talked about everyday things, punctuated with a giggle here and there. She rested on and off. I crocheted a scarf. It is our now new normal.
After the fluids, we left the cancer center and did some almost normal everyday friend things. We ran a few errands. We tried not to think about the fact that she had on a mask because her white count is low. We did a wee bit of shopping in a decorating store that wasn't too crowded. We walked around like normal best friends who had some Christmas shopping to do. We talked about this beautiful piece and that.
Then we happened upon these concrete lambs. I love lambs and sheep. They remind me so much of Ireland and Scotland, the lands of my heart and soul. I loved these little sculptures. The stone cast to look like wee lambs and then the rocks added for texture. Swoon. I was in love. I decided that I'd just have to purchase the smallest wee lamb and put him on my patio. So the lovely staff took the wee one and put him at the register. He is quite heavy, what with being made of concrete and rock.
We shopped around some more, spending time together. Then it was time to leave and have a bite of lunch. I stopped at the register to pay for my wee lamb and there sat the larger one. Angie said, "Let me buy him as your Christmas present. The little one would be lonely all by himself."
So with a lump in my throat, the staff loaded up my new little set of concrete lamb buddies. They rode in the truck, side by side, keeping each other company as Angie and I rode in the front seat, keeping each other company.
We stopped and had a bowl of soup. We talked about friends and family. We laughed. We enjoyed out time together. Then it was time for platelets. So back to the cancer center we went. Our lambs riding safely along in the back too.
As we entered the cancer center at about 1 o'clock, we saw a television for the first time all day. There were the blaring, horrific words AT LEAST 26 DEAD, 18 CHILDREN. We would learn later it was even more children. I stopped and asked someone who was watching, stoned faced and in horror, "What is going on?" They explained it was an elementary school shooting in Connecticut. Angie and I were stunned.
We quietly walked to the elevator and up to the blood unit to receive her platelets. She immediately turned on the television at her chair and we watched in silence as the reports were coming in. We didn't say much for a long time. Every once in a while one of us would say "How terrible", "God help them" or "How can this be?". Tears flowed.
We talked about her experience being an elementary school teacher. I asked her, "Did you ever even talk about things like this?" "No", she said. It's been 16 years since she was in a classroom serving as teacher. Things were different then.
I kept thinking of the scripture in Matthew 19:14 of the Great Shepherd as He said "Let these little children, come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Just wee lambs...let them come to Jesus, the Shepherd.
The nurses, the staff and of course the other patients there to receive blood or blood products were all talking quietly about what was going on. Angie drifted in and out of sleep. I read my prayer book. Listened for God and prayed.
It hit me like a tidal wave all at once and seemed so crazy. Here I sat in a cancer center with my life long friend. Children had just been savagely murdered. What is happening Lord?
While Angie slept I walked downstairs to cry a wee bit alone. It is reverently quiet in the cancer center, somehow holy and sacred. God's presence is heavy there. Psalms 34:18 tells us "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit."
It's odd though. The cancer patients, while looking frail and so sick in their recliners as they receive treatments, seem at peace and ready to fight. It's those of us in the small side chairs beside them where I see the brokenhearted look of confusion and crushed spirits. In those side chairs, we struggle with the thoughts of "What do I do? How can I fix this? What do I say? How can I help? Help, Lord Help!"
But in these times of brokenhearted confusion and crushed spirits, Jesus whispers. Amongst the news reports of slain children and teachers, doctors reports and cancer scans, we can hear Him. But we must be quiet enough and listen closely.
This morning, Adam helped me get the wee lambs out of the back of the car and sit them close to my back door. Side by side. They are not alone, just as Angie said. They needed to be together. Just as Angie said. God's lambs need each other...in the good times and the bad. And sometimes we just need to sit quietly, as quietly as those concrete lambs and just be.
I came across this quote this morning. "The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing … not healing, not curing … that is a friend who cares." ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen ~ We just need to quietly care and mourn together.
Today in heaven, new wee eternal lambs dance with joy in the sonshine of our Savior along side their teachers. Together. Side by side. No friend or little concrete lamb should ever be alone.
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