Fears

In this process of pursuing a diagnosis, both for myself and now for my dear husband, I have come to realize just how many fears I indulge. I was trying to nap today and thought, "Oh, no, what if he goes in for his nuclear scan and there are complications, and I loose him." I almost cried. It is silly, really, because any moment any one of us could experience complications brought on by life and pass from this world into the next...But it doesn't stop the fears.

I have feared: losing the ability to care for my family and myself; losing my life; losing my husband; losing my children; losing my mind. I cannot begin to wrap my mind around any of those losses. I minister full-time. If I lost the ability to care for myself, I could not work. If I did not work, my husband would have to find full-time employment. We would lose the house in which we live (a parsonage); we would lose our church home. We would have to come up with child care and care for me. It is terrifying to think of all that change coming at once. And there is the key.

My biggest, over-arching fear is that of the unknown. I fear new places, new people, new formats for life. When I go to a meeting in an unfamiliar place, I find out where my meeting will be held, what the expected etiquette is, who will be there (so I know I am not alone). I fear the unknown--and that is precisely what I am facing: a whole lot of unknown...

I don't know what is going on with my body, I don't know what the long-term ramifications will be of the neuropathies I experience. Will they get worse, will I lose normal feeling in my hands and feet? Will I continue to live everyday with a headache? These are questions that have no answer. I cannot prepare for what is to come, and my only recourse is to trust in the One who knows my every tomorrow--that He will provide strength for my journey.

I won't say that this is an easy thing to do. It is hard for me, and I am a full-time (paid) minister of the Gospel. Some days I don't want to trust. Some days I give in to the temptation to paint the "worst case scenario" on the canvas of my mind. But on those days I find myself being drawn out of my self-seclusion as the wisest part of me--my spirit--cries out to God without my conscious thought.