"And Then, There's 90"

The young serious doctor was giving us an option. A different treatment than the $2,600 per month recommended chemical treatment. Something involving steroids, and two-hour, four day infusions.

Dear Molly was standing by, with an appointment of her own to keep, with her miracle-working eye doctor. And, Kristen the minster. The oldest daughter. Listening. Taking notes.

Looking us in the eye, listing the possibilities and outcomes, the doctor concluded, "And then, there's 90."  Meaning, after all, you'e outlived all sorts of people already, you are older and more vulnerable.

It's all for a quiescent leukemia that has broken out and affected my lymph system.

The young doctor is earnest, knowledgeable, patient, and encouraging.  We trust him.  He wants to give us life for as long as he can. So, we will take the new set of two or three pills, drink lots of water, and show up for the early morning week of "Infusions." (except for Thursday when he let me go to my Bible Study, which is joy to me - a gift of God to be "my work" for this season of Lent).

We gather at the Hilltop, have our coffee and muffins, introduce ourselves adding things that are in our hearts to report and encourage others, and read 'round the room our scripture message for the day, receive a small dissertation from me on what it means to be "A Praying People," finally pray and bless each other on our way.

I love the time with these 20 or more wonderfully believing people who love to be with each other - a diverse, motley, and wonderfully winsome early morning crowd.

They help me, in my heart and spirit, as we walk along the great journey of life together. I am deeply grateful for them all.

On the home front my lovely, dearly loving Molly watches over me, transports me when needed, smiles at me, holds my hand, reads me scripture, is our family pray-er, and quietly, kindly works at keeping me alive. She talks with the children, who care so much, and surprise us with their stop-bys.

We gather together for birthday "dinners out," laughing, and catching up. "And then, there is 90" also means there are a host of friends who pray, who write, and who wonderfully encourage.

I've become increasingly aware that one person can "make" a whole day, by the shining light of their lives. They have an instinctive spirit about their "presence" that makes the whole day glow. They are the wondrous good side of even, these latest unexpected health "issues."

That's something that we long for, and rejoice in, about "Church" - the company of believers who love each other, help each other, give hope to each other, creating a mystical "place" and "people of love." Made so, by Jesus, their Lord and Savior. And mine too.

So much is so good in these very different "getting ready" days. Yay!

Arthur, your friend on the journey.