A prayer for the sick

I gaze up at the stars above,

Wishing they could see me through.

Their light could guide me to brighter days,

And melt the darkness of night away.

I’ve heard the fateful words again,

Too much, too soon, too often.

First in a friend whose paid his price,

He fought this battle, now fights it twice.

Then perhaps again in my father.

I’m not sure I can handle another.

This ugly beast, this awful disease

I wish we could erase, oh please.

Lord, I’ve spent so many days trying to understand.

I’ve raised money, I’ve walked, I’ve cried, I’ve held others’ hands.

I’ve prayed in every Church and every corner,

I’ve spent nights in tears or completely dried out.

It never seems to stop touching those I love.

Even I’ve had the words thrown out at me.

Cancer is an evil entity,

And yet it never really dies.

It haunts the worlds of those who’ve known it.

It lurks in the shadows waiting to attack.

It’s beastly in abounding ways.

I keep trying to fight back.

The world has many a great things,

wondrous oceans, jungles, forests.

There are precious children,

Innocent young minds to mold.

Lives to live, love to be had.

but this evil still finds a hold.

It’s true it can make you stronger.

I’ve seen that many times.

But it’s a never-ending battle

Even if the cancer isn’t mine.

Lord tonight I pray,

for all who suffer and for all who’ve hurt

from this dreadful disease.

Lord, take them in your heart and hands,

keep them near and make them whole.

Fill them with love, happiness, and never let go.

 

 

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One year ago

cancer_ribbonCancer ribbon courtesy of: http://thenewbluestar.org/graphics.htm

Today, 5/7/13 is the one year anniversary of something very important and so even rough draft form….here we go….

One year ago today I walked the streets of New York.
I lit a candle in St. Patrick’s.
I said a thousand prayers.
I clutched my father’s hands in mine.

Before bed that night I reminisced about the past,
I even laughed a time or two.
In bed I closed my eyes, but that didn’t stop the weeping.
It’s hard to stay quiet while tears are overcoming you.

For the first time my father didn’t hate the big city,
it was as much his friend as his enemy.
The craziness, the traffic, the rushing,
but it brought with it the promise of a new day.

I was learning, and I didn’t know how much,
to love a city I’d been taught to fear.
I was learning to trust a place,
that I was once taught never to trust.

New York had come a long way since I was a child,
a long way since my parents had been there before.
It wasn’t the dangerous city people once spoke of.
The train station wasn’t what I knew from even a few years before.

After months of anticipation and fear,
the day we had been anxiously awaiting was finally here.
It would be a day that ultimately would bring joy,
but it would take all day to get there.

There is no more evil word than cancer,
no matter how many times or how many ways you hear it.
But this big amazing city was the answer to our prayers,
the light at the end of a dreary tunnel.

For a few weeks, a month, though it felt like years,
New York became my second home, his too.
We saw very little of the city itself,
outside of the cold hospital walls.

I heard the traffic outside his window every day,
I saw the same hot dog vendor most days at lunch,
I took the same walk to and from the hotel for my shower,
And I occasionally had the same cab driver.

And while these things became routine, he healed.
Something incredible healed in me too.
I wasn’t only relieved that he was on the mend,
But I had a new love, a new friend.

I owe everything to that city, that hospital.
They saved his life, they gave me hope,
They gave us as a family a future,
God answered our prayers in a big way.

One year ago today, I said a thousand prayers.
Prayers for hope for the future.
Today, I say a thousand more prayers,
Of thank you, for the future.