The Ultimate Yes

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Listening to the small, still voice within

 

That small, still voice within speaks of truth and love.  It speaks gently and with compassion.  It is a constant and mysterious companion who knows me like no one else. It is more powerful than any other voice that tempts me to listen to what's not real. Every day we choose which voices to listen to.  

Today that small, still voice spoke loud and clear during dance.  It asked me this question, "Who is doing the listening?"

Oh yeah...it's me. How easily I forget.

I've Stayed Away Because...

  

I've stayed away because I've been afraid of my own thoughts for the past three weeks.  Because I didn't want to dwell on the not-so-happy aspects of what's transpired in my husband's and my world. Because deep-down inside me, beyond that place of having patience or trust or even faith...I'm scared and I haven't wanted to admit it. 

There is the long-winded version of this story that I've told to many family members and friends and then there's the one I'm ready to share here. On Christmas Day, a chest x-ray and CAT scan showed three nodules on James' right lung.  After three weeks of a multitude of tests, procedures and possible diagnoses, James' health remains a mystery. The good news is all of the nasty things the doctors thought he might have he doesn't have.  The other good news is many of the symptoms he's been experiencing are going away. I'm grateful for both of these things and it's challenging not yet knowing what's been going on with James' body. And so for now and for the next 4-6 weeks until his next CAT scan, we wait.

There's a part of me that's been strong and supportive to James...I've researched medical terms and have asked plenty of questions of the doctors.  I haven't shown my fear of the unknown, but have remained steadfast in showing love and showering him with positive, healing energy.  I've let go of my anger towards the doctors who had to follow "the rules" which kept us for three days over Christmas at the hospital. I've let go of my rage and disbelief at the physician who accidentally punctured James' lung while he was retrieving tissue samples.  I've let go of my sadness having missed spending the holiday with my family.  I've even let go of trying to figure out what all of this possibly means.  But what continues to lurk in the corners, and keeps me up late at night, and makes me want to scream is my fear.  

When I don't know something, I want to find an answer.  Would knowing an answer in this case alleviate my fear or would it make it greater than it ever has been?  I sit here at 2:30 in the morning staring at the blinking cursor.  How ironic to want an answer to provide comfort and peace and yet not having one also creates those feelings. 

No matter what happens, the love of my life and I will be okay.  I know this.