“The old song of my spirit has wearied itself out. It has long ago been learned by heart so that now it repeats itself over and over, bringing no added joy to my days or lift to my spirit. It is a good song, measured to a rhythm to which I am bound by ties of habit and spirit and timidity . . . But my life has passed beyond to other levels where the old song is meaningless. I demand of the old song that it meet the need of present urgencies. Also, I know that the work of the old song, perfect in its place, is not for the new demand!
I will sing a new song. As difficult as it is, I must learn the new song that is capable of meeting the new need. I must fashion new words born of all the new growth of my life, my mind and my spirit. I must prepare for new melodies that have never been mine before, that all that is within me may lift my voice unto God . . .
I will sing, this day, a new song unto Thee, O God” (Howard Thurman).
I have attempted to write a blog for months now, based on this beautiful quote by Howard Thurman, a quote which has changed my thought processes, my ambition, my comfort level with myself and my relationships with friends and family.
After an 8-year battle with multiple myeloma (a rare blood cancer) and the death of my husband for whom I was a caregiver for many years, I emerged battle-scarred, exhausted, and cognizant that cancer w1ll win the battle whenever this second type of chemo stops working. I realize that I need to “learn the new song that is capable of meeting the new need.”
That learning process mostly involved accepting that my life was special to God and to my family and friends even though I am incapable of the type of service to others that had been my life’s work and passion.
I had been a teacher of one sort or another for all of those forty years. I had written and had published books for new readers. I had been written for and been editor at my denomination’s magazine. I had founded adult literacy programs in every city that I lived in. I had been certified as a substance abuse counselor – a long-time goal that I never used because years of work with a great counselor helped me see that my tendency to enable would be detrimental not only to my own life, but also to those I wanted to serve.
I had retired from a 10- year career as as a senior manager with the National Multiple Sclerosis Society’s Michigan Chapter so that I could fulfill my need and desire to study spiritual formation. This led to my final career as Director of Spiritual Formation for a very large church. (You can find an accounting of some of these adventures in the My Journey section of this blog).
My cancer and the constant attempt to gain remission – and stay there – took and still take time and energy. But my hardest battle has been with the guilt of no longer being a “helper.” Instead I was the one needing help. What value did I have to give the world? And was it worth living if I couldn’t be a helper? Howard Thurman’s beautiful writing helped me find “new words,” “new growth” and “new melodies.”
My new life is very quiet, filled with books and magazines and TV shows of all stripes and topics. I can no longer drive; moving without my walker is very dangerous. My mind, which for years was involved in planning and organizing and evaluating and training, is now focused on using all those gifts so I can live alone as long as possible. I enjoy the visits of my friends and am grateful for their help and that of my son and his family. I’m surprised and excited every month when new readers become followers of this blog which I rarely update. Once in a while during a calm and quiet day, I still relapse and apologize to God for no long being active and helpful in his kingdom. I know that’s not really true and that God wants no apologies – and I continue on with my quiet life.
Recently I (and my friends and family) have learned that this particular cancer as well as the constant chemotherapy are taking their toll on my cognitive functioning. Perhaps I will never be able to write a blog post again. But most days, I read Howard Thurman’s words posted on my refrigerator and am grateful that I can sing, this day, a new song unto Thee, O God.”