Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Misericordia


Misericordia

May 9, 2018
Portos to Melide

It was another glorious weather day to walk along rolling hills, small farm plots and quaint little villages.  Once conquering the couple 100m climbs, the rest was just rolling countryside.  I would have enjoyed it more if my feet weren’t in screaming pain.  I have a large inflammation on the ball of my left foot behind the toes. Added to this, I now have four blistered toes which have joined the pain parade.  Every step is filled with ouch! ouch! ouch! The trail is covered in golf-ball sized gravel that finds a way to be felt through the sole of my boots.  This is accompanied by occasional stabbing tendonitis in my knee. Pain is part of the sacrifice in doing pilgrimage, and particularly the Camino. I expected it, and I accept it. 

As a way of coping with each crazy painful step along today’s 20km walk, I would pray through the pain and suffering with the word, “mercy.”  The Spanish word for this is “Misericordia.” The English translation somewhat diminishes the Spanish derivative, “mercy from the heart.” This one word prayer I inserted in my agonizing footsteps.  But, the word was to gain even greater dimension in my day’s reflection particularly in something I witnessed and a memory that deeply impacted my understanding of God’s mercy from His heart.

I witnessed something shocking during my lunch break.  It was a sight that epitomized such loving mercy from the heart.  A bright-orange, three wheeled cart rolled on the Camino before me carrying a young adult male. He was every bit of 150 pounds. It was clear that he was paralyzed and struggling with other severe special needs.  He was being pulled by one man who grasped handles to pull from the front and two men holding handles to guide from the rear.  There were three other men alongside and a couple women with supplies escorting this outrageous act of love.  There before me was pure “Misericordia.” 

This word and its profound meaning took on a fresh new reflection. I recalled others I have known who have survived such intense challenge in life and were saved by our Lord’s misericordia.
Our own family can claim a miraculous experience four years ago of God’s mercy from the heart.  Captured in an ultrasound of our second grandchild, little Clara, was a birth defect found in only 1 in 44,000 children. It was an extra sack of miscellaneous bone and mass that attached to her tailbone weighing a couple pounds.  She was born Caesarian C-section. Shortly afterwards, the foreign body was surgically removed. No trace of cancer was detected. Praise God!

Roughly 16 months later, something alarming was discovered.  Doctors examined her again only to find scarier news. Little Clara had cancer growing aggressively from her tailbone and in several other organs.  A course of chemotherapy was charted and this precious little babe was on her way through misery.  She lost weight, her hair, and her strength.  Hopes were high that the treatment would reduce the size and number of tumors to a point where they could be surgically removed.

For weeks during her treatment an all call was sent to prayer warriors.  We pleaded for healing prayers, prayers for mercy on precious little Clara, and for her doctors.  Over the course of weeks of the chemo, the tumors did reduce in number and size.  Doctors were convinced surgery would remove the last remnants of the cancer.

With a desperate call for prayer, little Clara’s picture made it to hundreds of emails. Some went as far as South Africa, places in Europe, and Australia to powerful pray ers I met on the Camino. The greatest force was from family and friends at home. We shared the story with them, they shared it with their churches and faith groups, and they, in fact, shared it with their prayer networks.  A battalion of literally thousands of mighty prayer warriors were on their knees for this sweet one.
I’ll never forget the night before the surgery. Heaven must have rattled with prayers for these surgeons to guide their hands in the last cancer removal.  Everyone was praying their heart out, pleading for life for this little lamb.  The drama was building until late in the day with this news. The surgeons had made their incision across Clara’s abdomen believing they were at the precise location of the cancer cells.  To their amazement and surgical examination, “there were no active tumors.” Clara was sewn up and led to recovery.

Some might claim coincidence. Some might find fault in the doctor’s diagnosis before the surgery. Some might even find anger that Clara underwent an unneeded surgery.

For the battalions of pray ers on their knees throughout her ordeal, we call this “Misericordia” It was the mercy of God from His heart that saved Clara.  The heart of mercy is love. Strangers praying for a little girl they never knew, that’s the heart of mercy.  Strangers pleading for prayers for someone they had no relationship or even knowledge, that’s the heart of mercy.  When we extend loving mercy to another, that demonstrates the Our Father’s heart of mercy.

Today sweet Clara is a bright, bubbly, and  adorable five year old kindergartner.  She is a living example of the power of prayer and the mighty power of God’s mercy.

My hours of reflection on this one word led me to see what power is in mercy. It came in this conclusion: When we look upon others through the bifocals of Misericordia, we see the heart of God and those in our path desperate for mercy from our heart.

Mercy is power. Let’s open our heart to share it freely.

Mercifully, Deacon Willie

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