The Check-Up

by Glynis M. Belec

I'm here. I made it. Six months since my last visit and I sit in my forest green chair and I wait my turn. As I join the many people seated in the cancer clinic, that old familiar feeling surfaces in the pit of my stomach. I have spent my five minutes in the lineup at Clinic Reception 2 and have now traded my appointment slip for pager #103.

"Go fill out your questionnaire, please, then have a seat," says the kindly receptionist behind the screened area.
Like an obedient puppy, I obey. I know the routine. The black Acer screen beckons me with its cancerous finger. I forget my password. I don't want to appear a fool so I try to reset it. An older gentleman clad in the gayly coloured lemon-yellow volunteer's smock with the cancer society logo on the pocket, appears from nowhere.  I confess I have forgotten my password. Six months is a long time and my cerebral hard-drive contains 15 or 20 other passwords.

"What year were you born?" asks the kindly volunteer.

A rather personal question, I think. Then I remember nothing is hidden at the cancer clinic. 1956. I punch it into the keyboard. Bingo. It works. I answer all the required questions. Eventually the printer spits out the completed page and I clutch it to my chest.

As I take my seat, I see a woman about my age, holding a beautiful, ebony-haired toddler. Grandma - perhaps? The mother hangs on to the empty stroller and positions herself three seats over from where I sit. She chooses the pink chair.

Dear God, I find myself thinking. Don't let her be the one with cancer.

I do not want the Grandma to be the reason they are at the clinic today, either. But my heart was heavy lest it be the young mother of that beautiful little boy.

Soon the dreaded sound of my pager buzzing brings me back to reality and Kay, the nurse, catches my eye. She greets me in her usual, professional and friendly manner. She settles me into the sterile exmination room and asks me for my completed questionnaire. We speak for a while. She documents my concerns and tucks them into the file.

"Doctor S will be in to see you soon," she smiles.
She hands me my less than glamorous hospital gown and tells me to take my time because Dr. S is busy today. I wait. I dig into my red, Write! Canada bag stuffed with papers, my camera, a writer's magazine, my agenda and a notebook. I don't know what to do first.
My brain plays tricks.
"Your cancer is back! Your cancer is back!" The enemy has a heyday.

I pull out my Fellowscript magazine and start to read. I smile when I see the article written by Marcy Kennedy and Lisa Hall-Wilson - TWG members, on co-writing an article. I remember the listserve discussions on this subject a while ago. I flip through and read articles by more TWG authors. I suddenly feel like the prayer team is with me today - although I didn't tell them I was coming.

Then I think how hesitant I was telling my family about what I would share today. The enemy prods me again - ...the sin of ommission is lying...so you lied to your family...what kind of wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend are you?

Then I feel the presence of Jesus. A peace washes over me and He tells me not to believe the lies. He tells me that it is honourable to care about the feelings of others and that I ommitted nothing. He soothes my soul and tells me it is well.

I hear the footsteps. The door opens and Dr. S enters..

A Bag of Fish or Jesus - Laycock

My husband preached a great sermon a while ago, from John 21. The gist of it was that we are all prone to oh-so-quickly give up on God and turn back to our own resources. Just as the disciples did. Jesus had told them what to do, and where to go, but they thought He wasn't going to show up, so one of their leaders, an impetuous fellow named Peter said, "I'm going fishing." The others said, "Yeah, sounds like a good idea."

They fished for hours to no avail so when a man turns up on the shore and asks if they have any fish they all shout a resounding, "No!"

It's when that man tells them to cast their net on the other side of their boat that one of them, the well-loved John, says, "Hey - uh - I think maybe it's Jesus."

To his credit, Peter wasted no more time with the fish - he leaped out of the boat and hurried to shore. Then Jesus, who was indeed the one speaking to them, tells them to bring some of the fish they'd just caught to the fire. An interesting statement, that. Jesus already had fish roasting over the coals, yet he tells them to bring what they had just caught with their own hands, under His direction.

There are a couple of lessons to learn here. One, guard against giving up on Jesus. He will come through, He's never late, and He will always give us what we need to accomplish what He has in mind. Two, there's a principle to learn from Peter and the disciples who followed his lead. We can so easily get caught up in striving to make a living - trying to make things work out the way we want - that we can lose sight of the One for whom we are working. But as Peter discovered, when Jesus shows up, the bag of fish is suddenly of no importance. Being with Jesus is all that matters.

And there's a third principle to learn from this story. We can know that God intends to put us to work. He has given us skills - like the ability to catch fish, and write books or poetry or magazine articles - and He will use those skills to His own purposes. Part of that purpose is to teach us and bless us abundantly as we become a blessing to others. The disciples ate as much fish as they wanted that morning and had plenty left to sell. It was the fruit of their own labour but it was labour guided by their Lord, labour that taught them something about Him, labour that was indeed, life-giving.

"So, whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive and inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." (Colossians 3:23)

Marcia Lee Laycock, author of One Smooth Stone and Focused Reflections

www.vinemarc.com

A Bag of Fish or Jesus - M. Laycock

My husband preached a great sermon this morning from John 21. The gist of it was that we are all prone to oh-so-quickly give up on God and turn back to our own resources. Just as the disciples did. Jesus had told them what to do, and where to go, but they thought He wasn’t going to show up, so one of their leaders, an impetuous fellow named Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” The others said, “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

They fished for hours to no avail so when a man turns up on the shore and asks if they have any fish they all shout a resounding, “No!”

It’s when that man tells them to cast their net on the other side of their boat that one of them, the well-loved John, says, “Hey – uh – I think maybe it’s Jesus.”

To his credit, Peter wasted no more time with the fish – he leaped out of the boat and hurried to shore. Then Jesus, who was indeed the one speaking to them, tells them to bring some of the fish they’d just caught to the fire. An interesting suggestion, that. Jesus already had fish roasting over the coals, yet he tells them to bring what they had just caught with their own hands, under His direction.

There are a couple of lessons to learn here. One, guard against giving up on Jesus. He will come through, He’s never late, and He will always give us what we need to accomplish what He has in mind. Two, there’s a principle to learn from Peter and the disciples who followed his lead. We can so easily get caught up in striving to make a living - trying to make things work out the way we want – this crazy career as a writer, for instance – that we can lose sight of the One we are supposed to be following. But as Peter discovered, when Jesus shows up, the bag of fish is suddenly of no importance. Being with Jesus is all that matters.

And there’s a third principle to learn from this story. We can know that God intends to put us to work. He has given us skills – like the ability to catch fish – or to write – and He will use them to His own purposes. Part of that purpose is to teach us and bless us abundantly as we become a blessing to others. The disciples ate as much fish as they wanted that morning and had plenty left to sell. It was the fruit of their own labour but it was labour guided by their Lord, labour that taught them something about Him, labour that was indeed, life-giving.

The writing process can be something that is self-engrossing – just a way of life – or it can be a means to an end – a way to life as it was intended to be, and a way to be with Jesus.