I don’t know if you ever quite get used to being in a hospital at three in the morning.  Isolation, desolation all of the “solation” words and a few other more descriptive words come to mind.  We have been here a total of six days so far.  Stir crazy is a mild way of describing how I feel.  Caged animal seems more fitting to how I’m feeling, backed into a corner,  no escape route in sight.  The thing that really pisses me off is that this predator that has us in its sights won’t show me its ugly head.  It won’t stand up so I can beat the living crap out of it.  This beast won’t let me protect the one I love.  It doesn’t live in the light. It dwells in the darkness hiding from me.

(This is a continuation of the story “The Prayer.”  If you have not read it, some of this will not make sense.)

Slowly I sit up in the darkness.  Sleep just will not come tonight.  Oh well.  A good walk might do the trick.  I grab my shoes and set off on my usual journey.  We find ourselves back at the hospital.  Things have been going well; we are here just for tests to see how things are going.  Nothing major, nothing pressing, just basically a progress report.  Why I can’t sleep, good question.  I never can.  I set out on my journey.  I walk on with no purpose other than to burn energy, release questions I cannot answer, find peace in a world that answers begin with “Well” and end with “not sure.”

I decide to head for the one place I have been avoiding for a while.  As people and generally as men we decide that we must do everything ourselves.  Why, I do not know but we do, and so I have been.  I find my nondescript door and walk in.  One again I am in awe of such simple majesty in such a common place.  I am hoping to find my friend that I met last time, my angel that finally brought a little peace for a while.  I sit down determined to wait him out.  I am sure he will be here soon.  I wait for a while lost in thoughts of life, my wife, my kids, cancer, and that basic old question “why.”  Why, out of so many billions of people in this world, my wife got cancer.

I still do not have the answer so I decide to move around a little bit to pass the time.  I am a pamphlet reader of sorts.  I don’t read the whole pamphlet but I like to read the titles to pass the time.  On the wall behind the door is a rack full of them.  A good twenty minutes of time to kill.  So I start to walk over and get to it when something catches my eye on the wall next to the rack.  It seems I have found my friend.  I cannot breath; by shear will I stand and look at the picture of my friend.  I force myself to read on.  “In honor of Chester G. Robinson, a dedicated servant of the Lord and this hospital for forty four years.  May his kindness be felt through the ages.  May his ministry live on forever, and may his gift of hope be felt by all who pass through these doors.”

I am floored.  I manage to keep standing, and I just stare at the plaque.  I don’t know for how long, just standing, just staring, trying to comprehend, trying to put all of the pieces together.  Ending up back at the same starting point, “why.”  I am startled when a soft voice with a Spanish accent says, “did you meet him?” When I finally catch my breath I say, “Yes.”  He says, “I apologize, I did not mean to startle you.  My name is Padre Francisco De Paz.  Everyone calls me Father Francis.” “When did it happen, how long ago, what happened?”  “Please,” he said, “let us sit down and talk for a bit.”  I am putty at this point.  It seems all of the answers that I knew were here had just vanished.  My guardian angel was gone, I feel so alone.  I slowly sit down in the pew and he sits down next to me and asks, “So how long have you known Chester?”  I somehow find my voice and answer, “I met him a year and a half ago when he found me  fitting in here early one morning.  He gave me the answers I needed back then, I was hoping he might have some more.”  “Ah yes,” he said, “Chester always just knew the right thing to say.  He was a very good man.  So when you first met him did he ask you why you were here?”  Yes, I said. So what was your answer?  I said I was looking for answers.  And Chester asked, “The answers to your questions or your prayers, am I correct?”  I looked at him kind of funny and said, how did you know that?  He asked everyone that same question.  Did you understand what he was asking?  No, I said, I had too many questions in my head at the time and I just let that one go.  So why are you back here, ask the Padre.  I guess I am still looking for those answers.  Answers to what, he says your questions or your prayers.  I really don’t know I say.  I still don’t understand the question.  I know you don’t, and neither do I, said the Padre, and that is my point.  here are some questions that will never have answers.  Your question is “why,” am I correct.  Yes, I say.  Have you ever had an answer to that question, he asks.  No, I say, then maybe you need to stop looking for the answer to your question and start looking for the answers to your prayers.  We can answer the question why when there is a quantifiable answer like why do I not have any money, well because you spent it all.  Why is easy to answer because there is an answer to the question.  But sometimes in life there is just no quantifiable answer to that question.  Why do some things  happen?  If I don’t know is the answer then maybe you need to stop worrying about the question and its answer and start asking for something else.  Like the answers to your prayers.  I am still a little confused and I think the padre senses this and he continues.  Do you know what the definition of insanity is, he asks.  I say, yes, doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.  He says, yes that is correct.  So if you keep asking the same question over and over and keep getting the same answer are you just as insane.  I look at him kind of funny and he continues.  Stop wasting your energy asking the impossible question.  Start using your energy to find solutions to your problems.  The focus should not be, why, the focus should be what are we going to do about it.  At this point I am starting to understand a little bit about what he is saying.  So you’re saying that why this happened doesn’t matter, because we can’t change it.  It just happened.  So I need to stop focusing on why and start focusing on what can I do to change it. You are starting to get my point, he said, but sometimes it is not even what you can do to change it. Sometimes it is just a matter of faith that things will get better.  Sometime we just have to believe.  Sometimes we just have to find the answers in our prayers.  So now, he says, are you looking for the answers to your questions or your prayers?  I smile and say, thank you, I will try to start looking for answers to prayers.  We sit in silence for a while and he says, I need to get going, but will you pray with me?  I say, absolutely, but is it ok if I say the prayer.  He gives me a big smile and says, of course.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for sending Father Francis to see me today.  It is in his kindness that I realize that you have a plan for me, and it is not my job to figure out why you have that plan.  It is my job to figure out how to serve you the best way I can.  So please God give me the guidance that I need to do this.  Walk with me and hold me up when I stumble,  give me a push when I fear I can go no further, give me courage,  give me strength,  fill me with your love so as I walk forward on this journey I can pass that love on to others.  Give me the will to help someone on their journey.  Stand with me on the front lines of our battle and help me be courageous so that I can pass that courage on to others that need that courage as much as I do.  Thank you for all that you do and all that you will do.  Amen

As I walk back to our room I find my calmness, I go in and give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her I love her.  I watch her for a while and slowly drift off to sleep, knowing that my prayers have already been answered.  He knew what I needed before I even left this room.

Walking home this evening, I decided that it had been a long day.  So as I passed a small pub I decided to go in and have a drink.  I pulled up to the bar and sat down and ordered my drink and was just sitting there going over my day and how my faith in people seemed to be dwindling.  I hadn’t noticed when I was walking in, but sitting next to me was an elderly man, that if I didn’t know better was Ray Charles.  I took notice because it seemed to me that he was just staring at me.  So I asked him, can I help you?

He had this little smile just plastered on his face.  It kind of just made me smile a little bit too.  In a deep gravely voice he said, “well I don’t know if you can help me or not, but I’m guessin your needin a little help yourself.”  I kind of chuckled a little to myself and said, well how can you tell that.  He said, “well you wouldn’t be in here if you didn’t.”  I couldn’t fault the man’s logic so I said, “so why are you in here then?” “ You see that baby girl back there, I got to play her every night or she gets lonely,” he says. “So what’s on your mind young man?  There’s no sense stewing over there like a pig in a pot.”  “People are the problem  I guess.  I seem to be losing faith in them.”  “Interesting,” he says.  Can you do me a favor?”  I say “sure why not what have I got to lose.”  He says “hold your arm out.”  “Like this,” I say.  “I have no idea, “ he said, “I ain’t wearing these sunglasses to look cool, I’m a blind man.  Anyway just hold your arm out, you doin it.”  “yes” I reply.  “Now bend your arm.  Which way did it bend?”  I say, “ back to my body.  He said, “ok, now move your arm and do it again, and tell me what happens.”  I raised it higher and bent it again, and said,” comes right back to my body.”  He said, “aint that amazin.  The human body is made to pull things to us.  How many muscles you got on the front of your arm?”  “One,” I say.  “How many on the back?”  “two,” I say.  “Well aint that amazin, It must be twice as hard to push someone away as it is to bring them to you.  You getting

my drift?” He asks.  “I guess your saying that the human body is made to bring stuff to it not push it away.”  “Your catchin on,” he says.  “I’ll let you think about that one for a while.  How bout I tell you a story while we wait for that to sink in.  I’ve told it so many times in here that I gave it a name. I call it “The Ballad of the Blind Man.” “As a blind man I get around pretty good.  I can get to some places I been to a lot by myself.  I want to be as self-reliant as I can be, but sometimes I have no idea where I’m going.  I could be walking off a cliff and wouldn’t know it till I hit the bottom.  When I need help I have to ask for it.  I have to have faith in whoever I ask that they are going to get me to where I want to be.  Now there are a lot of different people in the world.  Some of them would send you the wrong way just because they have a nasty nature to their soul.  Then there are others who send you down the wrong road cause they are just as lost as you.  Then there is the ones that maybe have some idea of where you need to go, but just are not quite sure.  Every once in a while there is that special someone that knows exactly where it’s at and would love to take you there.  It doesn’t matter what happens or how I get there, eventually I always get to where I need to go.  I have to believe in people or I will never get anywhere.  So I have an unending faith in the goodness of mankind.  Most people are just like me.  They are wondering down their road just as blind and confused as me and we find reassurance being on the road with someone else.  Eventually we get there and in the mean time we both have gained a new friend.

Just because you can see doesn’t mean that you can get to where you need to go.  We all need help along the way and we never know what kind of help we might get or it might not be the help we wanted at the time but it was the help we needed and just could not see it at the time.   Just remember that everyone one is on a journey going somewhere.  It’s your choice as to whether you bring them into help with your journey or push them away and decide that their journey is not as important as yours.   My baby is callin my name.  So if you would be a kind sir and escort me over to her, I would love to play a little while you mix up the pudding that’s rollin around you head.” I escort him over to the baby grand and he starts singing. “I see trees of green, red roses too…”  What a wonderful world!