Saturday, October 11, 2008

For Brooke

I am struggling today.

I'm in a resort hotel in Dallas, crowded with doubts about why I’m here and what my purpose is, and thousands of miles away from my family on a Sunday afternoon. Somewhere in Oregon today a celebration is being held, a recounting of the life of a young girl who died last week of leukemia.

I never met Brooke, but I knew a little of her story. Her nurse Carla broadcast her story in an effort to bring postcards to Brooke last year, postcards of far-off places that Brooke, who always wanted to travel, would not be able to see due to her illness.

I sent postcards of Germany and of Hawaii, and of more mundane places like Sacramento and Chicago and Minneapolis. This was a year ago.

In Minneapolis I found a small church a block from the juvenile Mississippi, and late one night I kneeled on its steps and prayed with all my being. I asked God if it was within his power and his vision that he would lift Brooke up and heal her. I asked that if he couldn’t do this that he would ease the hearts of her family, and all those who came into Carla’s compassionate net and cared for the girl they didn’t know.

I don’t pray much, and have no history of being moved by prayer or by the presence of God. But I left the darkened church and its steep, inviting steps knowing that I had asked with a clear heart, if not an unwavering voice. This was 11 ½ months ago.

Brooke got better, and her leukemia went into remission. I wondered if God had indeed heard all the prayers directed her way, and if he had bent the fabric of time and space to mend her in some way. By September I became a Christian. The two are not dependent on one another, and I didn’t read Brooke’s turn as a “miracle” that brought me to Christ. I probably would have come to my baptism without ever knowing of Brooke. But once there I did think of her and her story, and took strength from it.

But Brooke became sick again, and a week ago she left us. It has been hard on my faith. It has been hard on my heart. Tears come to me when I don’t want them to. My faith is still here, wounded and tired as it is. I simply wish I understood better. Brooke left behind a younger sister named Carmen who adored her, and a mother and a father whose sense of sorrow I can only imagine. My prayers ask now for God to give them peace, and ease their troubles. My prayer is for hope to be rekindled in faint hearts.

I have a number of pictures of Brooke that were sent to me in the course of her story, but I can’t seem to bring myself to post them here. It wouldn’t be right without asking her parents, and it seems intrusive. Instead I have included a picture of the cathedral on the Mississippi where I talked to God about this little girl. He heard me that night, and he answered me—though I don’t yet know how to interpret his words.

I recently found a poem by James Freeman called "I am There." Today, when people are gathered in central Oregon to celebrate the life and gifts of this 6-year-old girl and to offer their thanks for her brief presence with us, I post it on this site to add my voice to theirs.

Goodbye, Brooke. Thank you.

I am There

By James Dillet Freeman

Do you need Me?

I am there.
You cannot see Me, yet I am the light you see by.
You cannot hear Me, yet I speak through your voice.
You cannot feel Me, yet I am the power at work in your hands.
I am at work, though you do not understand My ways.
I am at work, though you do not recognize My works.
I am not strange visions.
I am not mysteries.
Only in absolute stillness, beyond self, can you know Me as I am, and then but as a feeling and a faith.
Yet I am there.
Yet I hear.
Yet I answer.
When you need Me, I am there.
Even if you deny Me, I am there.
Even when you feel most alone, I am there.
Even in your fears, I am there.
Even in your pain, I am there.
I am there when you pray and when you do not pray.
I am in you, and you are in Me.
Only in your mind can you feel separate from Me, for only in your mind are the mists of “yours” and “mine.”
Yet only with your mind can you know Me and experience Me.
Empty your heart of empty fears.
When you get yourself out of the way, I am there.
You can of yourself do nothing, but I can do all.
And I am in all.
Though you may not see the good, good is there, for I am there.
I am there because I have to be, because I am.
Only in Me does the world have meaning; only out of Me does the world take form; only because of Me does the world go forward.
I am the law on which the movement of the stars and the growth of living cells are founded.
I am the love that is the law’s fulfilling.
I am assurance.
I am peace.
I am oneness.
I am the law that you can live by.
I am the love that you can cling to.
I am your assurance.
I am your peace. I am one with you.
I am.
Though you fail to find Me, I do not fail you.
Though your faith in Me is unsure, My faith in you never wavers, because I know you, because I love you.
Beloved, I am there.


[This post was originally published in February 2005. MT]

No comments: