Time Out
Since the beginning of this cancer journey I have tried to pretend that I could handle the situation with only a few minor adjustments in the routine of our life. What is one more plate spinning on a stick for someone noted for being all things to all people? That pretense came to a halt with a simple question posed to Terry's oncologist. "If you were me and you had a way to step out of your daily responsibilities and care for your wife or stay working and care for her at the same time, which would you do?" His reply came without hesitation. "I would step out of my responsibilities and care for my wife. Its time."
And so it is. I have asked for a form of leave allowed in United Methodist polity that will allow me to live with Terry at our Lake Louise home for the next six months while the pastoral responsibilities at my church are handled by an interim. From October 1 to the end of March I will be able to focus on our being together and upon caring for her needs. At the end of the time I will return to the church for April, May and June and then retire on July 1.
None of this fits into the plan we had laid out for each other. It will require careful stewardship of income and resources. It will mean finding the joy in each day no matter what may come medically. I do not want the disease to hijack this time together. It means letting go of a position in which I find purpose and joy in order to embrace and fulfill the "in sickness and in health" part of the vows we gave to each other 38 years ago.
I began this week overwhelmed by all of the details demanding attention before I depart. I could not imagine how I could tie up all of the lose ends. I was nearly immobilized with worrry. Then the church staff began to help me sort things out and others in the church called to volunteer to pick up things I would have to let go. As the week draws to a close I can see that all will be well. I think it comes under the heading of let go and let God. I heard that in a sermon sometime back. Time to practice what I preach.