Last June, my friend Margaret introduced me to the making of mandalas as a spiritual practice. At the time, my son Darryl was in the hospital for a "cleanout", a term used by CF patients to describe the process of being hospitalized, often for several weeks, for intensive IV antibiotic therapy. This is necessary for many CF patients because the mucous in their lungs is abnormally thick, which makes the lungs an ideal breeding ground for hostile bacteria. Repeated bouts of pneumonia cause increasing damage to the lungs, which ultimately leads to death. A reprieve can come in the form of a double lung transplant, which can add years to the patient's life and substantially improve the quality of life. This is, of course, a high-risk course of action which is only undertaken when it looks like the patient could only live another year or two without it.

Last June, Darryl's doctors did not think he was quite to that point, but it was becoming clear that the time for that momentous decision was drawing nearer. I was frightened and struggling to come to terms with all that was happening to Darryl. So I took out my recently purchased markers and sketchpad and drew this mandala. Around the mandala, I wrote this prayer:

May the strength and wisdom of Mother Bear be mine today. I call upon the earth to ground me. I call upon the tree reaching up to the light to lift my aspirations. May it be so.

That was a year ago. And now the time has come for Darryl to be placed on the waiting list for new lungs. Hope and fear constantly compete for my attention. Most days, hope has the upper hand, but when fear arises, I find strength in this image and this prayer.