St. John's Lutheran Church
  • Home
  • Visit
    • Visit
    • Believing
    • Leadership
    • History
    • Facilities
  • Worship
    • Worship
    • Music
    • The Church Year
    • Sermon Archive
  • Church Life
    • Call Process
    • Church Life
    • Calendar
    • Community Outreach
    • Social Justice
    • Learning
    • Documents
  • Contact Us
  • Donate

In the Spaces by Ann Gerondelis

11/28/2020

0 Comments

 
O God
I’ve learned
To keep my distance
Six feet apart
Making space
You stand there
I’ll stand here
I disagree with you
And you with me
So we make a bit of space
And we co-exist
Then we step back
Everywhere there are those who agree with me
And those who agree with you
What does making space look like now?
Does it look like a police line in a crowd?
Like polarizing newsfeeds?
Does it look like people on opposite sides of the street shouting answers
When questioning conversations around tables might have served us well?
Does it look like defense budgets that continue to grow
And immigration raids in the still of the night?
Does it look like increasing gun sales and cities ripped apart by violence?
Like battles named and victories claimed?
Like flag-draped coffins
And earthen holes six feet deep?
Help us O God to not make space like this
Not like this
Help us O God
Help us all.

Amen

Picture
Photo by Ann Gerondelis
Arrival of the National Guard at the Philadelphia at the Municipal Services building
June 2020
0 Comments

Selfie with Bladder Cancer

11/12/2020

2 Comments

 
Selfie with Bladder Cancer
by Charles Fox

October 23, 2020


The first person from work I told was Katherine.
She was dropping off student work
like an hour after I watched the live video
of clouds in the bloody sky
and I trust her and I value her 
value for me and others.
I am grateful for her friendship.
She told Andy from Alabama
who called me while I was on my way to meet Peter
and talk movies with a bunch of guys from his neighborhood,
doctors, financial advisors, restauranteurs,
guys I’d met a time or two before, 
the chair of philosophy, with whom I work 
on things sometimes at work; 
I think I could talk about it 
and be re-assured 
if I wanted. But, why talk.
Except Peter, I told him.
   
I had told Katherine that I’d call Andy 
because he is a good friend
and he knows about cancer. He’s
like the English Department’s Oncological Answer Man
in my mind.
His dad was a dean with a beard at Alabama.
His dad, the way I remember it, shaved and found the melanoma.
His dad, the way I remember it, 
it had spread
into the spine
and his dad was gone.
A couple of months later
Andy finds his own cancer
and then it was gone.
Not really gone, but 
like the ghost of cancer
which needs to be looked for 
every time it’s this time of year.

That’s what the clouds reminded me of after
I thought about it again today.
Those are the cancers.
I remember them
and they are like ghosts, 
images from a screen
without my glasses on.

I’m watching the clouds with Dr Vikram
and the nurse, and he said see the cauliflower
like tumors there on your bladder
that’s cancer I say
yes someone both says
“It’s easy cancer,”
I said.
That’s what I heard
when I heard what happens next
and when I said it aloud.
I am grateful for easy cancer.

There are details to easy cancer
and I am grateful
for bags, but more so
grateful for Baudelaire
for Olds 
for Lux
for hearing words that change in my mind 
immediately into something else.
Cancer is just a word
Alabama Andy said. I believe him.

That was Tuesday. 
Wednesday, Thursday, Friday
were days 
watched the Astros with mom and dad
October games, late in the season 
this year of our COVID.
I thought about calling Andy from Idaho.

My birthday is the 26t
1962
I was induced during the Cuban Missile Crisis,
mom said, because the doctor liked 
to golf on Saturdays. And 
there were missiles just off the coast.

I am grateful for missile crisis resolved without incident. When the crisis changes into peace.

It is Thursday
Monday was the operation; the 19th because
we all just wanted it done.
Dr Vikram didn’t let me watch it live.
He told Laura after there were a fair number. 
But someday or two later, I read her notes 
and they said, tumors were on all sides, all over the place, everywhere,
but everything from now on forever would be good. 

I am grateful that I have easy cancer.
Dad always thinks of Patty 
I think of my sister everyday
bags and tubes
and real pain
I am grateful for healing.
I think a lot about ghosts.
I imagine them living with me
sometimes birthed from the images 
I once saw on a screen.
Other images though 
of cancer
are ghosts of cancer
lived out in the dying body
of some 
one each and every one of us of knows. 
I am grateful for ghosts.

I made a midnight pact with myself in the shower
the Monday night after. 
I wanted to write about gratitude.
Imagine the worst
Imagine the body uglied in pain
I had thought about it before, 
the weekend before
imagining the worst
imagining what if and then then 
and then
I made a pact for easy cancer
to always be haunted by your ghost.

I called Andy from Texas 
who for me is Andy from Idaho
because I wanted to talk to him.
I told him my sad story
and he told me his.
I told Laura what I heard in what Andy said
cancer by any other name.

Easy cancer is like a week of cancer. 
I spent lots of time waiting in socially distant waiting rooms
waiting for tests, pre-op consults, probes, don’t drink
they should have told you to drink more
you’ll know everything that you’ll ever need to know on Monday
rest and have a good weekend.
Monday, 170 lbs 
I missed the window so I went without any food.
Everybody who knows 
wanted to talk or be there to talk
even though I don’t really.

All gratitude to Laura. All gratitude to Laura. All gratitude to Laura for loving.
All gratitude to mom. All gratitude to dad. All gratitude to brother James. 
All gratitude to my son and daughter. All gratitude to Kay and all Crawleys.
I want to name everyone gratefulness. I want to name anyone gratitude.
I love and I am ready. 
Thanks to beloved. 
Thanks to beloved. 

This COVID year has been 
a red bag waiting to turn gold
emptied of 
and I have been a ghost for weeks
I would be a ghost if it were not 
for the new eleven pounds 
swelling out from the inside of my belly.

Loving and gracious God, 
Thank you for easy cancer.

2 Comments

    Devotions

    During this time apart, we will be posting reflections and devotions from members of St. John's. Anyone who would like to make a submission, or would like more information or guidance may contact Francoise Wackenhut. We are also collecting prayer petitions, which can be sent to Francoise as well. We look forward to learning what's on your mind and on your heart.

    Archives

    March 2021
    February 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Picture
St. John’s Lutheran Church | 1410 Ponce de Leon Avenue, NE | Atlanta, Georgia 30307 | (404) 378-4243
A congregation that invites freely, loves unconditionally, and serves with joy!