(a Steve Orr Bible Reflection for Advent)  In the Charles Yu short story collection,  Third Class Superhero , Nathan lives in a world full of super-powered beings. But Nathan is not good enough to be one of them. Oh, he has a power—of sorts. But it’s too meager to qualify for full-time heroics. So, instead of zooming to the rescue of someone in desperate need of saving, he works a thankless job that barely covers room and board.   What’s a third-class superhero to do? I know

I have taken you, the reader, through 23 chapters of “On Missionaries: A Personal View,” many of them dealing with Joice’s experience with cancer.    I started the series by reflecting on how I “became” a missionary, not called in the sense of St. Paul or most of the great missionaries, but somehow convinced that I should “become” one. I really had no idea what that would mean. I was a 17-year-old senior in High School, about to go to college, which I thought would prepare me

(a Steve Orr Bible reflection)   The radial saw operator was cutting wood to needed lengths and widths. Closer to where I was wielding a hammer, some folks were standing about waiting for some of those sawn pieces. My own crew had finished assembling a few of the larger all-wood set pieces and now had nothing to do until more wood arrived.   We were  supposed  to be building the set for our annual musical. If we didn’t get it built, the actors were going to be singing  Camelo

Finishing Joice’s MD Anderson journal: Monday, July 23: this is our first long weekend free day. Went for exercise, then breakfast and then, relaxing. My stomach feels good after the chemo. My heart sings for joy. I’ve been on the phone a while trying to get an appointment changed when we return for our checkup. MRI is scheduled for the ninth at night, so we are trying to get it changed. Not feeling very well. Friday, July 23: departure time. Woke up early and spent time pack

(a Steve Orr Bible reflection)   “Never pay full price for late pizza.” —Michelangelo (not the Sistine Chapel artist)   Among my favorite events of the 1980s was the arrival of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. TMNT looked like turtles. But their mutations meant they could talk, walk on two legs, had arms and hands.    These four “teenagers” were named for renaissance artists: Michelangelo, Raphael, Leonardo, and Donatello. As the name implies, they were ninjas, and they were

Continuing with Joice’s MD Anderson journal:  Thursday, July 11: I feel better today, and my stomach is calm. We went to the exercise room where there’s one treadmill and I am enjoying just walking; can do it faster too. My left ear feels like water in the ear after swimming. No soreness but a bit of itchy skin on the affected side. Friday, July 12: We went to MDA for an appointment with Dr. Frank. The nurse is surprised that I have no sores in my throat or no vomiting. I ask

(a Steve Orr Bible reflection)   The TV commercial focused on a teenager doing research, nervous about giving his first speech. The word  glossophobia  popped up on his tablet screen. That’s the fear of public speaking.   Most of us can relate. Multiple studies have confirmed our number one fear is having to give a speech. That’s ahead of, in order, spiders, death, and heights. And the greatest anxiety we associate with public speaking is brain freeze: unable to recall what w

Joice continues in her journal:  Tuesday, June 11: I started my mouth hygiene. I floss before I brush my teeth with a sensitive toothpaste, then rinse with baking soda and water. I also use fluoride in my teeth trays for ten minutes to thirty minutes. Then no eating or drinking and then I do some mask-tongue exercises to strengthen the throat muscles. They took 10 minutes and after that I went to the exercise room. Thursday, June 13: up early as we have an 8.30 appointment wi

(a Steve Orr scripture reflection)   “I’m with you.”    No matter who is saying it, when you  need  to believe that, you  want  to believe that. In the Steve Martin comedy  My Blue Heaven , it’s a mid-level mafioso saying it to an FBI agent. Can the agent believe it?  Should  he believe it?    If he were skeptical, would you blame him?   The FBI agent, Barney Coopersmith, is assigned to keep the mafioso, Vinnie Antonelli, out of trouble until he can testify against one of his

I turn now to the journal that Joice kept during her treatment at MD Anderson to remind me of what she was thinking and feeling. My first thought was to include many entries from Joice’s journal, but I have changed my mind. I do include some, but most were personal and I know she would not want them repeated, so I have been very selective. Here is one from her birthday: Sunday, May 19: My 82 nd  birthday and I didn’t sleep well. I went to church [1 st  Baptist in Houston] and