I mentioned yesterday how I was feeling fearful. It’s not just the end times, though, it’s ebola and Isis and the flu season and . . . Last year, I had a panic attack that felt like a heart attack that left me bedridden and ultimately at the medical clinic. Turned out, I was perfectly healthy, and that knowledge cured me from my fear.
The more I read about ebola, the more fearful I become. I get shaky and panicky and wonder if I need to take one of those pills they gave me last year to help me relax (I only took one the day they were prescribed). I find myself obsessing over every news story, trying to figure out how we can escape from this terrifying virus. I have actually come up with a reasonable plan, but still I am scared. That is, until this afternoon.
I just spent an hour interviewing a young man for an upcoming church publication. There was no time to think about ebola, no time to fear. Everything was normal for that hour: sitting in my living room, talking with another human being, listening to his story, processing information. Normal.
I have been so lost in my mental fear vortex that I forgot what a normal hour feels like. Today is a beautiful day. We have fresh water, healthy food, a roof over our heads, each other. The young man I spoke with is missing one of those: he lost his father six months ago to a sudden heart attack, and life is no longer normal for him or his family. His not normal is an everyday reality. Mine- a fearful fiction of my own making (for now, at least).
As we ended our visit, he said his dad always encouraged his kids to appreciate the little things: playing outside, building something, a beautiful day (like today). Even in his loss, he is remembering to do that, to value life in it’s everyday essence. I am convicted of my lack of appreciation, my lack of thankfulness, my lack of faith.
Ebola may come to Wisconsin, it may come to my door, it may enter my body. But, Someone else already resides here, and I need to put my trust in Him and be thankful for the days I have, the love I am called to give and receive, the joy He has provided through His sacrifice. I guess this post won’t be 500 words (but I am averaging about 500 for the three days); I need to take a walk and enjoy my children and the falling leaves right now.