I am in a Bible Study on Tuesday mornings at my church. The title of the elective I chose is
Knees to the Earth: Prayer that Empowers a Woman’s Life
Knees to the Earth.
That is just such a beautiful visual to me. It is a humbled posture. Submitted. Acknowledgement that we are but dust, as knees touch dust. Often when we think of one on their knees, we thing of eyes closed & head bowed. A reverence. One bowed in worship.
Expand our elective description and this is what it says:
“Knees to the Earth: Prayer that Empowers a Woman’s Life–learn how calling on God can help you struggle well.”
As I read the rest of the description of this elective, another picture enters my mind. This one seems to fits my reality. I see one with knees touching dust, touching earth. But her head is not bowed. It is up. Eyes raised, a bit desperate. A face turned in expectation. A calling out. A “calling on God in order to struggle well.”
Just yesterday I had this calling out. It was not a complicated calling out, prayer does not have to be. It was one desperate word: “Lord!”
I sit in my Oncologist office, vulnerable and weary from fighting flu for a week. Being in this place at this time of year is almost eery, the memories of fighting stage 3b breast cancer, 2 fall’s before, come flooding back.
My Oncologist, her hands, so soft, capable, sure & confident feel for lumps and bumps. She pauses on my clavicle, I call it a collar bone. The space between her brows narrow as she stays in that spot, one that I realize is tender now that it is being manipulated. “Could it be just a lymph node? I’ve been sick…” I ask with hope. Her answer sends my heart racing. “No, this is bone. But this is abnormal.” She informs me that I will be having an X-ray right away, and depending on what shows up, a bone scan.
She leaves the room and I study myself in the mirror. I stare at my clavicle, a pea size bump stares back at me. I start to talk inwardly to myself “We’ve had these scares before, don’t jump to conclusions.” Yes, we have had these scares. It seems to be a way of life for a cancer survivor. The “What if’s” and “What’s that’s?” But this feels different, and I know it is because it is bone that we are dealing with. If cancer comes back in the bone, it is an automatic stage 4. Not curable.
An xray tech comes to get me. I am thankful for the interruption of thoughts…
Would you kindly join me over at Equip Her to read the rest of the post?