Death wish

It's been a weird and interesting season for me, the beginning of 2010.

I have encountered death in multiple ways:

1) In January, I was present in the same room as two women (I did not know) as they expelled their last breath and witnessed the anguish of their families, all within a space of two weeks (very, very surreal experience);

2) I journeyed with A. who was part of my Woman to Woman Ministry very closely and was present during her last hours on this earth on February 8th (see Friday Graces and earlier entries in January);

3) I attended the wake of my good friend A.'s grandmother who passed away just before the Lunar New Year;

4) I visited my Aunt L. last September when I heard she had cancer and have journeyed with her in spirit since then as she lived in Melbourne. I grew to know and love her as recently as two years back and I was very upset when I heard that cancer had re-entered her life. Auntie L. passed away just this Tuesday past and I really mourn her leaving but I am glad I saw her last year and got the chance to say my goodbye via email, thanks to my cousin R.; and

5) Today, I found out that my ex-client and a woman I have tremendous respect and love for, Sue Huxley, is dying. Sue has been in a coma these last eight - nine days past. I visited her today regretting I did not call her sooner although I did feel the urge to contact her several times over these last five months, I only found out today about her condition, thanks Lisa, and hightailed to say goodbye to her.

Sue was the reason I went to Cambodia on the house-building project for the Tabitha Foundation*. I have known Sue since 2002, 2003 and every year when she went to Cambodia, I have been fascinated by what she did.

I finally got the opportunity to go with her last year (although I had been saying I wanted to go for the few years prior to 2009) and I had an unbelievably enriching experience.

On hindsight, I realize how privileged I was to go on that fateful house-building trip. I got a chance to see how big Sue's heart was and how she was such an integral part of this particular effort.

During last night's W2W meeting, I reflected on how sacred dying, death was. That it was not something to be feared.

However, mostly we are distracted by pain, suffering, disease and its contingent treatment, and the fear of uncertainty and death.

It's funny for as Christians, we believe in the promise of eternal life, so isn't dying a great thing? Why do we fear it so much when it reunites us with God and those we have lost through the years?

Isn't heaven supposed to be this great place of joy and pleasure that is beyond all human understanding? So why don't we all want to go to heaven pronto?

Perhaps we need to reflect on death more often to internalize the truths we learned as children.

I recall Fr. Martin's words that the dying are God's word to us and we would do well to listen carefully and act accordingly.

Joy and sorrow, life and death, these two pairs come as a package deal, and cannot exist, one without the other.

We would not be able to experience true joy if we have never had an experience of real sorrow.

Likewise, unless we feel "Time's winged chariot hurrying near" and the capricious brittleness of our mortality, we cannot make the decision to live fully. True to who we are.

Therefore, to honour our loved ones who have gone before us, we must live well and live true. To respond to those we love, present and departed, by living with integrity and openness of heart.

What's more, we never truly lose our loved ones to death.

As my SD commented when I told him about Auntie L.'s death, now she knows how I truly feel, for in death, she and I are now in communion without earthly barriers (Aunt L. is now part of the communion of saints) and our love is more perfect than it previously was.

I take great comfort in that thought.

As for death, I recognize its potency without fear, and I look forward to eternally resting in its light.

I celebrate the lives of those who are soon or recently departed, and I thank them all for being a part of my life. They have made it so much richer and they have all helped me become a better person.

My last wish this day is that I do not trivialize the significance and sanctity of death.

* In honour of Sue, a school is being built for children in Cambodia. To contribute to the Sue Huxley School in Cambodia, go to: http://suehuxley.blogspot.com/2010/02/sue-huxley-school-cambodia.html

Fate worse than death

It used to be that a fate worse than death usually meant that a woman was raped or her virtue dishonoured (especially through the loss of virginity), hence she would be better off dead.

This speaks of how chastity used to be prized and that the act of sexual love was something practised mostly in a monogamous, lifelong relationship called marriage. And rightly so.

Not just because it was good as opposed to sinful, but that the sexual act is one of unitive love for humans, and not merely an act of procreation as it is for the animal kingdom.

Made in God's image, it is in this act of love that we, man and woman, can give ourselves to each other selflessly, allowing us to imbue sex with a wealth of meaning beyond obvious physical pleasure, transforming it into a pledge of committed love and fidelity. (Pardon the TOB* soapbox spiel.)

So chastity, outside of marriage was pretty much a way of life for most people until the sexual revolution in the 60s and the eventual growing acceptance of premarital sex.

Chastity today is, sadly, widely perceived as a curtailment of freedom and personal happiness, but I fail to see how sexual freedom has led to happier individuals, harmonious families and stability in social structures around the world?

Just look at the scores of lonely people who engage in unsafe, risky activities, the rise in the number of sex perverts, paedophiles, rape cases, sexual abuse, divorce rates, single parent families, sexual infidelities, broken relationships and diseases related to non-monogamous sexual activity.

Loneliness and/or involuntarily enforced celibacy is ironically the new fate worse than death, often impelling people to go from sexual encounter to sexual encounter, desperately seeking for love to the extent that they lose their sense of self and dignity. Their bodies no longer respected as sacred vessels but common commodities to be traded, with deadly consequences at times.

In a episode of Oprah, it was reported that a man is now behind bars for knowingly infecting at least six (there were many more) women with HIV and other STDs for he had engaged in multiple, concurrent, unsafe, sexual relationships with usually older, divorced women, and we are not even talking about promiscuous women but educated and successful women who thought they were dating this charming, caring man, very often, exclusively.

Sex taken casually can kill.

In an earlier episode, an ageing woman with bleached hair, wearing a tight-fitting top, felt obligated to go to bed with any stranger who bought her a drink all because she was looking for a man who will love and affirm her as a woman.

Then (in another programme) there was this attractive, single mother who had nine children and embarrassed the older ones because all she wore were the skimpiest ("skanky" was what some people who saw her remarked) outfits on a daily basis, convinced that sexy was an aspirational state of being.

In the latter, these two different women clearly did not want to be alone, without a "man", and saw sexiness as the epitome of feminine sexuality that would enable them to use their bodies to win love.

Not altogether an uncommon belief or practice among both sexes today, given popular culture's celebration of the body as a functional means for financial gain, power, status and satisfying carnal desires.

Just a couple of days back, a friend who is in her late 60s shocked and amused me simultaneously when she suggested I compromise my principle on chastity if I sought a lifelong partner. A. really means well for she wants to see me happily married.

I want to see me married, too, but for all the right reasons, and in the proper, i.e., ordered way. That, for me, involves full participation from God in the selection of "the man", and he, the man, must respect my principles and value me beyond my appearance or accomplishments.

Call me anachronistic, dumb, picky or just plain weird, I admit to being all that.

Sure, there are times I struggle with being single.

There are days when even my great relationship with Jesus falls short. There are days I yearn to cleave to ONE man who amplifies my joys and eases my sorrow as we meet life head-on, together. as one single unit.

However, I would not trade in my chosen way of life, my voluntary celibacy/chastity; for first and foremost, it is but a single aspect of my sexuality and does not define my sense of fulfillment as a woman; and secondly, I have not felt as liberated or fulfilled as at present time, when I am able to express myself freely and love fully, growing into my potential as a woman, regardless of my marital status.

This all brings me back to the genesis of this blog entry. A reflection on death that led to curiosity over the etymology of the phrase "a fate worse than death".

Is death that fearsome? And what could be feared more than death, if it is?

For me, many things can be feared more than death, for in itself, death is merely an altered state of consciousness and the promise of a new, joyous and perfectly complete beginning.

But the definitive fate worse than death is the absence of God, in His trinitarian identities, in my life. An existence not graced by faith.

Take it from one who has been there, it can be hellish.

* Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body

Love never fails

I recently read the book Grasping Heaven, about the life of Dr. Tami Fisk, a missionary doctor.

She was one of the pioneering health professionals sent by MSI, Medical Services International, to China when the country reopened its door to foreign doctors in the 90s, to live and care for the Yi in the villages surrounding Zhaojue.

It is incredible how one individual can make a difference in the lives of so many, changing even the views of Chinese officials, thereby opening more doors for MSI, with her unfailing commitment to love, in just three short years.

Despite the difficulties and initial barriers (language notwithstanding) she faced, Tami's strong faith and conviction in God's will carried her through her stint in China as well as her subsequent battle with melanoma.

Tami was guided by the principle of love as laid down in 1 Corinthians 13 by Paul. This was important for her ministry, for in China, Tami's life was "cemented in flexibility".

Despite the frustrations of dealing with the ever-changing flow of events, she was able to retain her sense of humour and respond faithfully in love to whatever situation was presented to her on a daily basis.

Even when her world came crashing down around her with the advent of cancer, she remembered the example of another missionary doctor, who, when faced with a life-threatening situation, said yes to this question posed to her by Jesus:

"Can you trust me in this difficult situation, even if I never tell you why?"

Likewise, Tami said yes with courage. Before she died at age 39, she continued to trust implicitly in the words proclaimed in Jeremiah 29:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

The legacy left behind by Dr. Tami Fisk is profound and far-reaching. I am inspired and strengthened by her story.

While she was a woman who had the benefit of loving, godly parents and the ability to recognize her calling early on in life, and thereby spend most of her life preparing for it (just like Jesus) and living it in ministry briefly (again like Jesus), what about the rest of us who remain lost and clueless?

I think of A. whom I think rejected death to the end for she felt she still had things to accomplish. Unfinished business.

I think of my conversation with E. about how many of us know what is our true vocation in life? And how many of us waste many years before we get an inkling.

I think of brokenness in our lives that prevents many of us from realizing our true potential and being "fully alive".

I think of men and women hamstrung by their low self-worth and the lies that they have bought into, who go on to live lives "of quiet desperation".

Will such lives, ended, be in vain?

I'd like to think that no life is in vain. Every life has a purpose.

Even if the person chose to deny or was unable to find his/her purpose in life, grace can enter and make a life seemingly without value into one which is rich beyond human measure.

In sharing our thoughts about A.'s demise last night, we found that we were each given many gifts of insight and that A. enabled love to flow into our lives and work within the group to change each of us indelibly.

That is the nature of love. It works its magic, gently and patiently. Faithful. Never giving up. Always hoping. Enduring.

Whatever A. thought was unfinished business will, even in her death, progress to fruition, I have no doubt.

For love never fails.

Home free

Today I say goodbye to my sister, my friend,

A part of my life.

I weep for the loss, lamenting the pain

Of her great suffering.

Is there a reason? Tell me why, O Lord?

That this was her path,

Did it have to be so cruelly complicated,

Unendingly bleak?

How can a disease be so barbaric?

Leaving me dumbstruck

At its savage attack on her body.

My grief runs deep,

My horror too profound for words,

At cancer's creativity.

Today I am glad, relieved that "It is finished."

That she rests in God's arms,

Fully healed, united with our Maker,

Finally home free.

While I rejoice, my heart is funereal heavy, 

Now I begin to mourn.

Friday graces

Early this morning, A. finally went home to Jesus. She fought a brave battle but death ultimately prevailed.

I feel like I've lived a year in the last five weeks, from the day her condition took a turn for the worse on January 2nd.

It's been a real emotional rollercoaster, the scares and physical challenges: brain op - no brain op, chemo, 9/10 pain levels, throwing up, internal bleeding, bloating, low white blood cell count, dropping hair, a nose tube that reached right into the stomach to prevent vomiting, spike temperatures, dropping blood pressure, the debilitating fatigue, sinking into a coma...

The good days: the ability to eat, enjoy the food and not regurgitate it at all. This respite from the nausea and inability to eat lasted for just about one week.

The grim days: intense pain wrecking her body, the gauntness of gradual starvation, the failing body systems overrun by cancer, a truly horrific spectacle to witness.

Although I did not know A. for very long, or very well at all, the last five weeks have been a time of bonding, where she became the little sister I never had.

Someone I looked after with love, nourished with my cooking, advised gently, encouraged and coaxed.

I was her big sister who brought her treats, gave her massages, whom she looked up to and was comforted by. She appreciated all my gestures so sincerely that I was touched.

In turn, A. inspired me with her child-like sweetness and candour, her courage, fortitude, gratitude and generosity.

Of course she complained occasionally, and who wouldn't, but on the whole she was a superb patient - who accepted quietly the toll the disease took on her body.

Her especial gripe was the inability of doctors and nurses to find a vein for she had very fine veins and it would take many minutes and much pain before they could locate a vein to either take a blood sample or put in a drip.

After I once witnessed what they did to locate a vein, I understood why she kicked up such a fuss. It was painful to even watch.

A. dear, I love you, my sister in Christ, and I rejoice that you are no longer suffering for it caused me to grieve deeply to see your body breaking down and to see you wasting away.

I thank you for teaching me patience, gentleness, wisdom, how to love with compassion and empathy.

I will miss your smile, the way you looked at me with gratitude as I massaged you and the gift of girlish womanhood that you were.

I thank God for having given us Friday evenings to meet and share our lives over the last year. It has been a privilege and an honour.

Although you have departed, your spirit remains behind.

Rest well, little sister, until we meet again.

Twilight

No matter what you think or feel

you cannot hold back the inexorable onslaught

of my display of power

my mastery over your body

I invade and destroy what in you is healthy

I start out slow then explode

in a profusion of crazed, abnormal cells

Gleefully I multiply

Mutating in malignant forms and tumours

Screwing up your body systems

Causing pain and malfunction

in the wake of my deadly destruction

You will moan and mourn

Shriek and suffer

Cry and eventually die

I am your worst nightmare.

Conquer my body you may,

Giving me grief and existential angst.

Costing me a small fortune,

Creating chaos in my household

You may even decide the time I depart.

But you cannot control how I choose to leave,

Or what I do with my time remaining.

I can transform my suffering

Into something that redeems humanity,

My pain has the potential to save souls,

My despair the ability to give birth

To an experience of God's love

and the knowledge that my life

does not end even as my body decays.

For what awaits is infinitely better...

A sumptuous banquet in the house of the Lord

For eternity_

Ipsa scientia potestas est

Never have I fully appreciated the phrase Knowledge is Power* more than in the last month.

I first began daily updates on A.'s condition for I felt that the people who loved and cared for her would want to know how she was doing, and because 24 hours made a world of difference in her condition, a regular communique would help all to know what to pray for and how to support A. and her family as different issues cropped up.

In writing the updates, came a responsibility: to write with no embellishment of prejudice or sentiment, and to report the unvarnished facts and allow each individual to process the information accordingly. No easy task.

How much information would lead to information fatigue, or would be useful, or critical???

Then I went away for a week and in that time, I hungered for information on A. I was grateful when I received a phone text update and it served as a reminder to keep A. in prayer. On days I did not receive any news, I was frustrated yet relieved, for I knew that no news is good news.

Upon my return this week, I found a new dimension of Knowledge is Power waiting, like a stealthy cat about to pounce on a hapless mouse. Information withheld, or distorted - done out of love perhaps, but it created a jumble of strong emotions and questions within me.

How do I act based on this new dynamic of information? What are the best interests of the parties involved? Where are my boundaries of responsibility?

The Rotarians' Four-Way Test came unbidden to my mind (spoken in my father's voice for he was fond of quoting it, the passionate Rotarian that he was) :

1. Is it the truth
2. Is it fair to all concerned?
3. Will it build goodwill and better friendships?
4. Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

I also sought counsel from people I knew were wise, mature and godly, who faced far more difficult situations than the one at hand.

Ultimately, I realized, as in any quandary I find myself, that it is in seeking the Father's will that leads to clarity. Putting aside my personal outrage and umbrage and letting the Spirit lead.

With my gaze trained on True North, the next challenge arose.

Knowledge of what disease can do to debilitate the body to such an extent that I am revolted and horrified.

Every cell in my body cries out at such indignity waged on the human body.

My soul weeps at such suffering.

I grasp desperately for meaning in such suffering.

Why? When will this end?

I can only, at this moment, rely on the grace of faith to steer me forth, as I navigate the oppressive and suffocating waters of darkest despair and sorrow.


* Ipsa scientia potestas est, "for also knowledge itself is power", comes from Francis Bacon's Meditationes Sacrae and implies that with knowledge, one's potential or abilities in life will increase. Knowledge, or the withholding of it, can be used to one's advantage, and is therefore power. Bacon was possibly paraphrasing Proverbs 24:5 "A wise man has great power, and a man of knowledge increases strength." Read more from my source: http://en.wikipedia.org./wiki/Knowledge_is_Power