Monday, October 15, 2007

Dear God,

You heard the sound of her voice, the joy, the tears, the celebration. "I wanted to talk with you all weekend." She told me. "My tests were normal. It's a miracle!"

My member has had several surgical procedures, each one unsuccessful. The original surgery had "pinched" her bile duct (I think), failing to allow normal flow. Subsequently they kept putting in stents, taking them out, putting others in. Nothing really worked for very long. The doctor was ready to schedule the big invasive surgery where she would be cut from stem to stern and the area of concern would be rebuilt. They did a final series of tests. And the results were phenomenal. Indeed it is a miracle!

She has a fear of hospitals. Her mother died following a routine procedure. She never forgot it. Every time she has to face surgery she has to face her fear.

Several weeks ago she called telling me she had found peace through her fear. She had grabbed hold of faith and allowed it to calm the fear. She would be okay, she said, when she had to face the really big surgery. I told the woman that the event of the normal tests was the second miracle. Letting go of her fear was the first one.

Fear and faith. I have a wooden disc that I carry in my billfold. One side says fear. I know all about that. The other side says faith. I know about that too. Fear and faith. Faith and fear. Seems they are wedded together. Fear can turn into faith and faith can turn into fear. I've been on both sides of that "coin."

But what I want is a life lived without unreasonable, irrational fear. I want to live my life in the light where fear cannot get a foothold. Like a sudden storm that soaks in, I want to have enough faith to ward off the fear, not allowing it in. Like that spray stuff that just makes the rain bubble but not soak in. It keeps the fabric dry. I want faith that only allows the fear to present itself but it simply slides off. Fear that dissolves or dissipates, not becoming fear at all. That's what I want my faith to be.

Every day I have to decide how I want to live. Will I give in to fear? Will I allow myself to be immobilized by a paralyzing fear? Will I trust only in my own resources? Or will I do something else? Will I remain close to you, keeping my whole self wrapped in loving care so I am enabled, empowered to function out of faith because I know you are in me and I am in you? Will I be courageous, willing to risk in order to follow you, your will? Lord, how much I want that kind of life, that kind of trust.

Thank you
for the miracle,
the first
and the second.
Thank you
for faith
that transforms fear.
Thank you
for the lesson
of faith, trust, courage.
Guide me,
O Lord,
guide me
in faith.

Love, Andrea