There is nothing like the diagnosis, treatment, or end-stage of a serious illness to throw personal perspective, and life itself, into wild disrepair. Yesterday's 'boring' routine of work, family, and community obligations can now, in retrospect, feel downright precious, even blessed, in comparison to the stress-filled 'now.'

You may find yourself remembering back to 'before the diagnosis' - to days packed with activities such as work, school, child-care, sports, carpool, bridge, travel, and community events - days plumb full with the unheralded 'blessings-of-the-moment,' the precious 'monotonies-of-everyday-life.' You may find yourself re-evaluating how you've lived your life in the past - and how you might want to live it in the future. (No matter whether, for you, that future is measured in decades, years, months, or days.)

Perhaps you've just been diagnosed with a serious illness- your life feels upside down, you are trying to figure out more about what illness you have, what treatments are available, and how this will affect your life.

Or perhaps you've been treated for some time. It is still hard, but the 'medical routine' is not as foreign as it once was. You aren't used to it (How does one get used to the brave new world of medicine and treatment?), but at least you know what to expect - at least for now.

Or maybe your illness has reached 'end-stage,' and medical treatment options are limited to 'palliation' - to keeping you comfortable. You aren't sure how long you have left; you have hope for tomorrow, only you don't know how many tomorrows will follow this one. Or what will happen next. You aren't afraid of death so much,(or maybe you are), but mostly you worry about what will occur between this one day and that final one.

Maybe you're a caregiver, family member, friend, neighbor, or fellow faith-community member of someone who struggles in one of the above situations. You're trying to be supportive, to be there in his or her time of need. But the situation feels somewhat uncomfortable, and you don't know exactly how to help or what to do to make it better.

No matter what the individual situation, each one of us would do well to start with the revised question posed by poet Mary Oliver.

"What will I do with my one wild and precious life?"

We each have but one life to live, and to give, though most days it seems neither precious nor wild. But it is our life - our one life. When faced with a life-changing illness, either your own illness or that of a loved one, many people decide to 're-group and re-evaluate' both their priorities and their way of life.

And that is good.

Because, in the normalcy of every-day routine, we can become mired in 'not seeing the forest through the trees.' In fact, amid the hustle and bustle and scheduled chaos of daily life, we often miss both the forest and the trees! And our myopic culture, with its narrow vision of what it means to be human, doesn�t help, not one bit.

The fragmented culture, with its relentless focus on superficiality and materialism, trains us to see only a small part of a single branch on the all-but-invisible "Tree of Life." Sadly, too often, our diminished life-view consists of a solitary leaf, isolated from branch and tree, roots and soil, rain and sunshine, day and night - isolated from other trees, and from the life-saving eco-system of consoling grace. In other words, focusing too narrowly on our micro-troubles can cause us to miss out on the essential spiritual growth opportunities necessary for the our soul's photosynthesis.

If there exists a blessing in the midst of serious illness, it is this: that we are 'forced' to slow down, to look at and to see our life for what it is - to see the materialism, careerism, egocentrism, and brokenness that mark much of our daily existence.

And to make changes, if we dare.

It is said that faith-life and God-life are not pushed out of our lives, so much as crowded out. The busyness and the noise of 'all-that-needs-to-be-done' crowds out the time that should be allotted for the Eternal One, and for respite from the storm.

In this Spiritual Growth section, we have endeavored to provide some beginning means to 'crowd out' the distractions. The spiritual reflections, scriptural passages, prayers, and hymns are intended to be a safe harbor within which you can rest.

Read and pray. Reflect and sing.

Try, if you can, to allow the prayers and reflections to wash over you - to fill you with the life of the Spirit and the love of God. Try to schedule time each day to reflect, to pray, to meditate on how you can grow. And if your caregiving or self-care duties don't allow much time for such scheduled reflection, then pray the 'prayer-of-every-moment.'

Offer your daily prayers, works, joys, and sufferings to the altar of the Lord. Beg for him to give you the strength you need to get through the day this one day. And the next.

Maybe you;ll find one or two new favorites among the prayers we've provided. If so, that's great. But don't worry if these particular prayers aren't your style. The important thing is simply to pray - to speak and to listen to the Author of Life - as often as you can.

Who knows?

Perhaps allowing time for prayer and reflection will help you to better answer Mary Oliver's question: "What WILL I do with my one wild and precious life?" What will I do, this day, with my one life? What choices will I make, today, to honor the precious gift of this one day�this fragile day, filled as it is with stresses and struggles, pain and uncertainty, grief and worry?

Perhaps the more important question is:

"What will I allow God to do with - and through - my one wild and precious life, this day and every day?"

The answer?

Let go and let God.

Allow the Author of your 'wild and precious life' to draw near to you in a way that transforms this 'valley of tears' into a garden of life, where your soul's tree can flourish.

Who knows?

Maybe you will decide to live simply, to love more and to listen better, to seek out and to offer forgiveness, to cherish your beloved, to be kind to yourself and to others, to live for the good beyond yourself, and to leave a legacy of faith, and hope, and love, to all who encounter you.

That would be wild indeed.

And infinitely precious.

Back to Table of Contents

Next page: Chapter 7: A comforting selection of reflections, scripture, prayers, and hymns