Lymph Journal # 62 - An old vision

5/3/2012

Today is autologous stem cell transplant day.  The past few days have been positively brilliant weather wise – the air intoxicatingly rich after overnight T-storms.  I’ve gotten outside quite a bit when untethered from the Nordic Walker and just imbibed the air.  Strangely enough, I‘ve had no signs of allergies so far this year – early days but maybe all this might have an unforeseen benefit?

Nights have not been brilliant – last night especially.  A side effect of the last chemo treatment can be real irritation in the tract running from mouth to stomach.  I consumed much ice during the treatment and that has mitigated the effects on my mouth quite effectively but the burning further down began yesterday (24 hours after treatment) and grew more uncomfortable overnight.  Added to that was the IV alarm deviously programmed to blare and flash Kein Fluss! (no flow!) whenever I approached dreamland.

Of course all this adds up to thinking time and what I began to think on was a sort of, for lack of better word, vision I once had on my way to work back at the Pier Middle School in good old Narragansett, RI.  I cannot remember if there was any particular challenge facing me at the time – I was just driving into the parking lot (usually one of the first) and backing the Toyota pickup (I miss you still) into MY spot when it came. 

It consisted of a voice, a voice that I would likely attribute to a generously proportioned, barrel chested orator of African-American roots.  This voice could speak and did peak with authority.  What the voice spoke was familiar.  In the cadence of a gifted speaker from the roots mentioned the words were those of the Twenty-Third Psalm.  That’s it.  Loud, clear, bold – as refreshing as cold water on a stifling day. I walked into school pumped for the day although truly clueless as to why I needed to hear that.  The apostle Paul’s admonition to not neglect the public reading Scripture of comes to mind – sometimes what we really need is to hear and to listen.  Sometimes we have to be loud.

Well, the voice did not return last night but memory of it did and I once more thought through the Psalm.  Here, intertwined with the King James Version are some of the thoughts that came last night.

 1The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. – the Almighty looks out for me with care, protection, affection, and vastly superior wisdom.  I won’t want, I don’t want, I can’t want, I will never want – not really.  Sure there are temporary limited wants but the shepherd, the Good Shepherd trumps and purely answers them all.  When I reflect on the richness I have in the Shepherd, in His intentions past present and future – how can I want?

 2He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. I’ve seen many a green pasture over these past few months.  The green pastures of the Psalmist’s region were probably decidedly less abundant than the physical pastures I see in Germany but the metaphoric pastures can be a bit sparer in the middle of cancer treatment. But the Shepherd has plunked me down in many a pasture along the way and I have drunk of many still waters.  For a person whose mind likes to keep busy, for a person who loved the day to day of the classroom, for a person who’d rather shoot  flowing rivers that placidly paddle a lake this has been a switch.  But the Shepherd has led me to stillness many a time and it has been wonderful.

 3He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  The Shepherd has done great works of restoration especially in the area of truly integrating what I know to be true from Scripture with what I experience as truth.  The Shepherd is good at His word.  And paths of righteousness – well the Shepherd can clear and has cleared out a lot of clutter.  There’s always room for more to go.

 4Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  We, all of us, are walking through the Death Valley – no choice here.  Sometimes we know it better than others. But to do so without fear – that’s the goal and we can because we follow a Shepherd that has beaten death and His guides of correction, encouragement and steerage allow us to follow well and to know that Death has lost its sting.

 5Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  I love the almost smug nature of this picture.  Sitting down to a great meal in the face of my enemies.  To boldly do this and then to take it a step further and be anointed and toasted beyond – this is no meek, half-heartedness on the part of a struggling shepherd – this is the GOOD Shepherd having a satisfying blast that happens to be wonderful for me as well.

 6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.  I SHALL NOT WANT – game, set, and match!

So, I didn’t have my “vision” last night.  It was at least eight years ago.  But now maybe I know why I did.  Don’t be afraid, in the privacy of your car, or bedroom, or walk on the beach or through the forest (be careful – to a degree - in public spaces) to make your boldest declarative stab at reciting the powerful words of Scripture.  If you don’t someone else just might!