Where have you been? Where are you going? And why?
I’m shaking my head as I look over the last twenty-six updates. Such a blessing to sit here again cancer free. I marvel at the topics covered throughout the journey. During my last hospital visit, I did not ponder shipwrecks or Michael Scott or NASCAR. This time a picture grabbed me as I waited my turn in the lonely office, accompanied by the patient table, cotton swabs, and a sink.
On the back of the door a poster-board sized picture advertised the hospital. You see the back of the doctor’s head as she in her white MD coat addresses the patient. I cannot see her expression, but from her body posture, I imagine it confident and cheery. The picture plainly focuses on the patient. She sits eagerly, though not panicking by any means. Her eyes engage the doctor’s with assured anticipation. Her black silky hair rests beautifully on her shoulders. Her slim figure relaxes with a slight lean on her right arm that props her up. Without a doubt, she maintains her health with a substantial diet and frequent exercise. Her breasts fill her shirt quite fully. I’d guess her age to be no more than thirty-five, and I see no undesirable rashes or acne on her smooth skin. Most men I know would have a hard time keeping their eyes off this woman. The line just below the picture reads, “We know you have questions about your treatment options. We have answers. Ask about a cancer clinical trial”.
My God how we long for Eden. This poster uses sex appeal to advertise cancer treatments.
If the normal people sitting in the waiting room resembled her, I’d need a lot more accountability. No, the people I see in the hospital enter in wheel chairs or hobble in hanging on the arm of their spouse. The worst have tubes attached throughout their body while someone pushes them around on a stretcher. Some have masses protruding from mysterious places, and others wear hats to cover their chemo ravaged head. And though some resemble the “normal” folks you might see on the street, most have aged long past thirty-five. Imagine the response the hospital would get if they used these images to advertise.
In a children’s book, Sally Llyod-Jones writes, “And though they would forget him, and run from him, deep in their hearts, God’s children would miss him always, and long for him- lost children yearning for their home.”
The words we read to children speak a story most adults know but will never understand. And so we use the hunger for Eden to treat our exile.