Irish Lilt

 On my first chemo round, I met the fellow who was in charge of my case, Dr.  Mauve. This  should have tipped me off during the conversation as we talked about more results in my tests that, yes, there were indeed more spots on my spine, more spots on my liver, and, yes, a spot on my right femur somehow was drowned out by the lilt of her voice. She then told us that she was from Ireland. What a beautiful sound! She cocked her head in such a way and looked at me as though she looked straight into my soul, but she smiled and encouraged me that it didn't matter how many spots there were. They had the medicine, and they were going to move forward. In my mind I thought you meant more like 13 to 20 more spots, not 5 to 7, but somehow her voice was so soothing I didn't seem to care. It was kind of like a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down moment.  

That night when God woke me up in the middle of the morning at 4:00 AM, I heard him speak over me. Not literally but figuratively, and then His voice, though very soft and firm He sang a lullaby. In the lullaby there were angelic voices in the background, and you got it. They were Irish! it was like the Celtic women were in my bedroom, singing, ministering to me, and calling over me in ethereal voices, angelic, perfect in every way. It was still God's song. It was still His lullaby. It was still Him, comforting me, rocking me back to sleep. As soon as I wrote all of this down and tried to hum a few bars and record it, which turned out terrible, I fell right back to sleep.  

Perhaps God speaks to us some ways we do not always know or understand, and yet realize that no matter how bad, no matter the details, that God is in control and He is still my Papa, my ABBA Father.