Steven’s Visit During Chemotherapy
June 2, 2019:
My daughter, Colleen, just left me for chemo. I prefer to be alone because I’m very easily distracted. So I always send her off. Once I’m situated, I realize that I’m so hungry. This will likely distract me from a peaceful place. As soon as the thoughts of hunger were over, Steven was with me and he stayed the whole time. He said, “I’ll feed you today. Now! I’m going to show you Joy about yourself.” He impressed on me that he would have preferred if Colleen hadn’t left. She could have been a second pair of ears if I spoke out loud. I think he and I both know that it happened the way it was supposed to.
It’s like he was telling me I don’t know who I am. For 60 years others have told me who and what I am, but I’ve realized this is not my reality. I’m more! My actions, my behavior, how I treated other people, how I loved them, and put it all in motion, alone! What I think about my life, how I’ve processed my past years, what I think about where I am, what I do with what I’ve been given, that’s who I am.
I never spoke out loud to Steven. There was no need. I thought and I talked to him in my mind. He only responded to what I thought, never what I said. He said sarcastically, “here we go again,” to what I was now thinking. You see, Steven was with me once before on an errand from God, trying to show me my worth and value. He tried to convince me of the reality of who I was, who I am. I thought I knew better, I argued with him and sent him away. I was certain I was unworthy of what he was telling me. I felt at the time, the grief I was feeling, in sending him away, would kill me. I’d surely die of a broken heart and shame.
This time, Steven tried to show me the value of having faith and trusting my life; the good AND not so good, the fun, AND the challenging. They were ALL mine. It all happened just for me and to me. He wanted to show me and give me a sense of clarity and to understand the joy of me. Not the joy of my life, but rather what I did in the moment, how I responded, how I processed, how I wore my life. He showed me how I baby-stepped my way into progress, learning about my life, trust, the infinite levels of life within this vastly infinite existence we call the universe. He showed me the moment I chose to believe and changed my thinking about certain things four and a half years ago. I did choose to trust that this was a new reality for me and it would indeed change my remaining life and the relationships I had with my children. It was a beautiful thing.
Right from the beginning of this chemo day, Steven warned me that I wouldn’t be able to remember everything I experienced with him today. He impressed on me that I would lose my memory about much he would share with me today as a “lesson.” I need to have faith and trust the Christ that lives in me. I need to have faith in my Father, to provide me with wisdom, knowledge, and that the spirit will guide me to an understanding and feel peace. Self-doubt, comparison, and feeling unworthy have no place within me. I will want to seek truth and reality. The fact is. . . God is at work, still and forever! Right now! There was never a “down” time.
I was anxious to ask Steven about his siblings, spouses, and their children. That’s all he said was, “Matt, Kevin, Brian, Kailagh, Colleen, Geoffrey, Steve and Avonlea. I love and know them in completeness. They have been close to me.”
It was deeply implied to be more of a proximity, than a feeling of closeness or intimacy. I specifically mentioned Callie, Jason, and Simon.
Of Callie:
“I know her and love her in completeness (before, now and forever).”
Of Jason:
“I know and love him in completeness (now and forever).”
Of Simon:
“I know and love him in completeness (before, now and forever).”
I asked him about anyone else on the planet? He impressed, “I’ll answer you, just ask me by name.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t for the life of me think. No name would come out of my mouth. My brain and my mouth just could not and would not get in sync.
I asked him about me. He impressed “You let me know you long before… and before, now, and forever. Now, I always come to you. I love you and know you in completeness. You have been where I am and choose to be for you... just for now.”
I asked him about loving Simon. He said, “That’s all there is.” It was implied to me that every emotion and feeling other than love, are almost undefinable as I, or most, understand them. Every other emotion or feeling funnel down to exist under the umbrella of LOVE! That’s all there is. That’s all that’s necessary. All others are redundant or pointless, ultimately.
There was no doubt in Steven. He had total, complete trust that he knew what he knew! And it was truth. It was his reality. He was very matter-of-fact and confident, but ya know… still pretty chill, loving and comforting. He wanted me to choose to trust what God was giving me, trust what he was showing me, embrace the me that should be my reality, be at peace with it and not hold onto the me that never really existed (the me that I, for so many decades, was convinced I WAS).
I admit I’m a bit frustrated that I can’t remember what, in total, Steven impressed on me in these four hours. He was true to his word that this would happen, not as a punishment, but as a loving lesson and encouragement. Trust and embrace the truth of my new reality. My experiences are gifts from God FOR me. They are mine. I never take them for granted. I know they can stop at His choosing. I pray over them every chemo day. I ask, beg and plead for God to meet me in that place. Sometimes I expect it and I look for it. I don’t take it for granted. It happens before I take my next breath. I’ve asked for clarity as to what to do with what He gives me, if anything. I’ve only ever felt Him telling me to share with a small number. He has not shown me beyond that. Clearly, my timing is not His timing.
My day with Steven was beautiful. It wasn’t like you’d imagine. There was no “OH, MY SON!” or crying or reminiscing. It was my spirit and his spirit connecting on a level of love and compassion. We both knew who each other was, but He was showing me in large part, just what was not necessary, what was hindering my trust and what would not allow me to believe, without doubt, of the joy in and of me. By the way, I wasn’t hungry again until the evening.
P.S.
I asked Steven if I’ll always see him as a 25-year-old. He hesitated a moment and then impressed on me, “I don’t know. What do you see?” I responded, “I see, what I see.” He impressed, “Well. There you have it.”