"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
creeps at this petty pace from day to day..." MacBeth
That's how I've been feeling lately. Tomorrow is so long in coming, and, though I don't want it to come at all, I also just want to get it over with. But it finally really is tomorrow. Just plain tomorrow. So I have a few things to say about it.
A couple of months ago, I wrote about talking to a woman who owned a quilt shop (check this out). I told her then that tomorrow's surgery (then unscheduled) might soon come. My 12th surgery, actually, and probably not my last. "Maybe you should think about it as a tune-up," she said. "Instead of a big deal, you just need a tune-up to keep your beautiful Janome (a quilting machine) running smoothly."
'Just a tune-up' has stuck with me so much that I've been at peace with what will happen tomorrow when a surgeon puts a knife to my throat, moves my vocal chords and esophagus out of the way and carves away bone from my spine. Sounds gruesome when I write it out, but not when I think, 'just a tune-up.' Really.
I saw the surgeon this week for my pre-op appointment, and the most amazing moment happened. "I'm like a mechanic," he said. "This surgery is like a tune up so that generally healthy people can live better." I think my jaw dropped to the floor. My spirit was certainly singing the Hallelujah chorus! because right there, right in that little exam room, was God the Holy Spirit confirming that He's in this, that all shall be most well, that a surgery as invasive as one that starts with a knife to one's throat is merely a 'tune-up' in His eyes. It's not a metaphor to Him, either. But pure truth. He uses modern medicine to tune up broken bodies for His purpose.
So I sit here this afternoon in peace and stillness. Comfortable, ready, my life in His hands, knowing who to trust.
I went back to that quilting shop after my surgeon's appointment to tell her (I now know her name) how much her words had meant to me, and what the doctor had said. Returning to say thanks--a gospel move, inspired by the Holy Spirit. She was moved to tears, which moved me to tears, too. So there we were, both crying in a fabric store on a Wednesday afternoon. What could be better? The Kingdom of God right at hand.