This is how Sue greeted me. A fiercely pround lady in her 60s, with a very aggressive brain cancer that has left her confined to a wheelchair and dependent on others for all of her care. I was caught completely off guard, so I said, "Sue, it's your doctor." "I know who you are and you can get the hell out of here!" Dumbfounded I asked her why. She said she didn't appreciate the religious speak she felt I pushed on her during our last visit. It didn't seem to me that I pushed her. However, instead of trying to argue or defend myself, I apologized and asked her forgiveness. She forgave me and I promised I would never bring up religion again--unless she asked.

The difference that I see in myself is a new humility. I'm confident that I could have won the arguement, but I knew instantly that I would have lost so much more. I'm reminded over and over again that really living is not a matter of my words or my ability. I just need to say "yes" to the proposal in front of me. I know for myself and from my experience, that when I am willing to face my circumstances, open and vulnerable, I recognize my dependence. What does freedom have to do with dependence? Everything. What does dependence have to do with truth and subsequently happiness? Everything.

I stubbornly miss many opportunities.

Sue smiles at me now. I don't know how long she will live, but what matters is not my abilities as a doctor, which are of course important, but that she is loved. Her need is so easily seen. My need, maybe not as easily seen, is the same as hers.