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I have been thinking a lot lately about time. When people are diagnosed with life threatening illnesses, there is almost always a number linked with the prognosis. We have been very discouraged by the numbers we've been given by doctors, but we have not lost faith. They are months, hours, seconds, units on a digital clock face. They are not whispered by God or written in stone. Therefore, we are not bound by them. While, yes, there is a sobering dose of reality delivered with the prognosis of pancreatic cancer, dad is not constrained by the statistics of that diagnosis. People surpass insurmountable odds everyday. Of all of the new terminology, emotion, discouragement, encouragement, and general surrealism that has come with a loved family member being diagnosed with a terminal illness, I have been the most struck by one sentence. An oncologist looked at my dad and told him that only 4 out of 100 people survive pancreatic cancer. Dad didn't hesitate....he looked at him and said, "I'm one of those 4." I wasn't in the room, Tim told me about it later. It gives me chills each time I think about it. In the face of fear, he hears odds like that, and is at the blackjack table with a hand full of chips. We are all cheering him on and hoping for that 21. We rest in the hand of God and pray without anxiety and with thanksgiving for healing, strength, and positive focus.
In the meantime, all these thoughts about time reminded me of a brilliant essay passed to me a few years ago. It was even more inspirational now for obvious reasons...
http://www.phoenix5.org/articles/GouldMessage.html
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