That Which I Feared The Most
That which I feared the most has come upon me. Clancy ended up at the Urgent Care last night with a life-threatening allergic reaction to a medication she just started taking. She’s going to be okay but this does set her back a ways because now she has to get that med out of her system and find one that can heal her rather than kill her. I wrestled all night long with whether to take the next flight home and postpone this pilgrimage. Of course, Clancy assured me that between her sister, dad, grandmother, brother and brother-in-law, she had plenty of people to take good care of her. But, still…
I woke up this morning all stirred up. It didn’t help that I had a dream that I was riding in a gondola/ski lift thingy with my baby and she/he almost fell out and I caught her/his forearm and hung on for dear life until the chair pulled in safely to the mountain.
I had been praying most of the night but I knew that I needed to get quiet and meditate. There is a distinct difference for me. For one, I can pray and be full of stress and anxiety and control and fear. It really does help to channel all that energy into beseeching words to God. But, when I meditate, it calms me. I keep returning to trust rather than begging. I remember to have faith in God rather than imagine all that could go wrong. Every time I start thinking, I return to paying attention to my breath which gets me out of my head and into resting in the peace of God’s love and sovereignty.
I am beginning to realize that one of the lessons for me on this leg of my inner journey is letting go. Not as in abandoning but more like handing over all that I prefer to carry (because that feels like I have more control.) Not just my children but all of my future that feels so up in the air. I want to nail it all down. Not knowing feels so scary. Once again, coming face-to-face with the mysterium tremendum of God – that which is alluring and frightening at the same time because, though, it is benevolent, it isn’t controllable. Or as C.S. Lewis writes about Aslan, “’Course, he’s not safe. But he’s good.”
At one point, my mind started to wander (this happens often while I’m meditating.) I began thinking about Jesus on the Sea of Galilee with the disciples and a storm rose up while he was sleeping. Understandably, the disciples woke him up in fear, yet, Jesus asked them, “Where is your faith?” I want to ask Jesus to calm the storms in my life but if faith means “letting him sleep” then I’m going to go down into the hull, snuggle up real close and ride it out with him. Perhaps, calming my fears is the greater miracle.
There is so much more I want to share but I don’t want to overwhelm you with my many words. (I’ve read that one should keep their blog post around 500 words.) That, and…I only got three hours sleep last night and I’m now at the airport about to board my plane to Paris, then another plane to Biarritz, then a bus to St. Jean Pied de Port which is where my Camino begins. I will write all about today and our heroic chasing of the Northern Lights and more pictures from this achingly beautiful land tomorrow. Until then, I’ll leave you with this image from today and this reminder (for me and you) from John 10:9-10.
Jesus said, “I am the gate for the sheep. The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy but I have come that you might have life and to the full.”