November 18: Languishing, Sister, Prayer for Health

"Maybe," said Charlotte quietly.  "However, I have a feeling I'm not going to see the results of last night's efforts.  I don't feel good at all.  I think I'm languishing, to tell you the truth."

Charlotte isn't just languishing at this point in the book.  She's a couple of days away from dying.  She has created her egg sac and secured Wilbur's safety.  Basically, she has expended the last ounce of her energy.  In a couple of pages, she's too weak to even move any of her legs.


I have a sister right now who's languishing.  She was just admitted into the hospital this afternoon.  Tomorrow, she will be undergoing surgery for a seroma of soft tissue and bone.  I'm not exactly sure what that exactly means.  I know it's a serious, life-threatening infection.  My sister had back surgery last month.  Her surgical wound is not healing.  It's sort of festering.  The infection might have reached her spine.

I am so tired of this year.  So much has gone wrong in 2014.  My jobs.  My brother's death.  Two sisters with terrible health issues.  Money issues--always.  As this year winds down, it seems to be going out with a huge thunderclap instead of a whisper.

A Capuchin monk named Solanus Casey (who's on his way to canonization), once said, "In the crosses of life that come to us, Jesus offers us opportunities to help Him redeem the world.  Let us profit by His generosity."  I suppose that's a comforting thought, that all the storms of life are opportunities of redemption.  When you are out in the boat in the storm, however, it's sometimes difficult to see the shore.  At the moment, I'm looking for the shore.  For my opportunity to redeem the world in my sister's situation.

My sister's worried about a lot of things right now.  Her health.  Her job (and whether she's going to have a job to return to--she's already taken a great deal of time off for surgeries and recuperation this summer).  She has many crosses.  I'm asking you to pray for her.  Please.  Pray that she finds her opportunity for redemption, whatever form it may take.  She is suffering a great deal, physically and mentally.  Tomorrow, she goes into surgery again.

Saint Marty is a little tired of crosses at the moment.  A little salvation would be nice.

This is what I'm looking for

June 24: Terrible Case of Injustice, "Tara," Prayer for Health

"I see no difference," replied Fern, still hanging on to the ax.  "This is the most terrible case of injustice I ever heard of."

A queer look came over John Arable's face.  He seemed almost ready to cry himself.

Fern is trying to save Wilbur's life.  She is passionate and emotional, and she touches something deep inside her father's heart.  As a father, I think I can speak for Mr. Arable.  He is gazing at Fern and wondering when his little girl grew up so much.  That "queer look" on John Arable's face is sadness and love.

Parenthood is an exercise in letting go.  You raise a child, and, eventually, you watch that child walk out your front door forever.  Hopefully, into a life of happiness and fulfillment.  This Sunday, I heard news about a teenage girl who might have a serious form of cancer.  The tests on "Tara" came back inconclusive, so more tests have to be done.

Tara is a beautiful, spiritual young lady.  She works in the church's nursery.  She's a counselor at Bible camp.  She picks up other kids on Sunday morning and drives them to church for Sunday school and worship.  Sure, she's also a teenager.  She starves herself for weeks to fit into her prom dress and then, after the prom is over, orders a pepperoni pizza and eats the entire thing.  Her life is about the Holy Spirit, and it's also about boys and Katy Perry.

I'm asking you to pray for Tara this week.  Pray that she receives good news soon.  Pray that she is healthy.  Pray that she has a great summer, filled with swimsuits, beaches, and sunglasses.  Pray that Tara grows up into a wonderful child of God.

Saint Marty, like Fern, wants justice.  Justice for Tara.  He wants Tara to have a long life full of promise and joy.

This is what Tara should be thinking about