Part Thirty-Four: This Is What I Should Have Done

            This is what I should have done, Mona, but I didn’t. 

            I should have asked you to speak up for me.  I already knew from the last two chemo sessions that by the time the Benadryl IV finished, I would drowsily shrug off the good habit of stopping to pray with the nurses before they gave me the Taxol.  My daughter started that practice way back at my first treatment at the end of June.  And somehow in September I have shrugged it off.

            After all, you knew the routine, and you brought up taking the picture of me to post on Facebook.  Thank you.  That’s another thing I have not done the past two weeks—I was by myself and could have taken a selfie—but in those cases I actually forgot to do it.  And not taking a picture is not the same as not praying.

            If I were to mount a defense for not pausing to pray with you and the nurses, I could say that I prayed silently for the Taxol’s effectiveness in killing the cancer cells.  I could say that last week Sue prayed with me before dropping me off at the Bartlesville clinic.  Those actions were good, but they do not absolve me of my inaction.

I’m not superstitious about this.  I don’t see prayer as a magic wand that one must wave at specific times in order to receive God’s blessings.  I see it as conversation with Jesus, who died for my sins and who wants a close relationship with me.  Both are such mind-blowing concepts that I can hardly wrap my head around them.  Yet, on Friday, for the third week in a row, I rejected a moment of prayer that could have been a blessing to all involved.

            So why did I cop out?  Why do I resist God’s nudges?  Why is it so easy to not do the very things that would draw me closer to the lover of my soul?   I refuse and resist God because I still insist on my way.  You know that old saying, “It’s my way, or the highway?”  I want to do what I want to do, which is usually the easy way out.  In Friday’s case, it was starting a nap. 

            Now, people might say I’m getting worked up over something insignificant.  But I don’t think so.  Everyone’s life is made up of choices, some big and some small.  Those choices add up to something hugely important:  character.  Who I am today is, to a large part, the cumulative effect of choices I have made throughout my life.  It turns out that little things are, in fact, big things over the long haul. 

            I’ve already had a conversation with Jesus about my poor choice not to pray and told him I am sorry.  The amazing thing is that he accepts my apology and goes a huge step beyond:  he uses what I have just confessed to grow me closer to him. 

            What I should have done is what I will choose to do this coming Friday.  Why?  Because Jesus’ way is far better than “my way or the highway.”  It is the pathway of peace.