Prayers in Any Language

I am a believer in the power of prayer. Big prayers. Small prayers. The kind of prayers that are barely a whisper of hope. Over the past few weeks I reached out to a dozen or so of my friends who I knew would pray for me in their own way. Those on their knees in direct connection to the Almighty. Those who would burn candles for light and love and healing. Muslim friends who said a du'a to ask Allah to heal me. Jewish friends who said "Eil na rafa na la" as words of hope and comfort for me. But prayers and encouragement also came in the form of neighbor's waves when they saw me outside, nods from fellow walkers, dog sniffs, rabbit twitches, deer sightings. Nathan bounding onto my bed for a snuggle. Yep. A prayer too. There is a universal oneness when we are called to pray for another's healing and comfort. Countries, religions, beliefs, time and distances do not matter. We call out and God listens. When we are too tired or to frightened to say the words. God knows. And sometimes, just sometimes we hear the response we hoped for... My lymph node biopsy was clear. Prayers answered. Gratitude unending.

One Week

It has been a week since my second surgery for the cancer on/in my arm, the lymph node removal under my arm, and the skin graft. One week of recovery. One week of waiting for the lymph node biopsy results. One week of pain management. One week of boredom. One week of loss of control. Unlike a week of vacation, one week feels like a really, really long time when you are waiting for news on your own health. I am right here. Waiting.