Sunday noitcelfeR

 

  It was a scary weekend. 

Thursday night, my husband Jack came home from band with his leg swollen and hard as a rock. Being Jack, he said, "I'll see the doctor in the morning."

I was pretty worried. My thoughts went back to my bout with lymphedema, my arm looking like a baseball bat, and just as hard. I didn't sleep well, but I was glad that when he woke up the next morning and things were as bad, he went right to the ER.

He too realized something was very wrong, so that's good. His own dad had congestive heart failure, and Jack remembered the swelling in his legs the week before he died.

This turned out to be something very different: deep-vein thrombosis. His clot ran from his upper thigh all the way down to his ankle. The doctors used the phrase "in time" a LOT. He was put on Heparin, and although it took 24 hours for his ankle to reappear, the vascular surgeon was satisfied he wouldn't need anything further for now. He's still swollen and sore, but he's out of danger.

Through all of this, I reflect on the phrase that appears over and over throughout the Bible: Don't be afraid.

It's always God or an angel who says, "Don't be afraid." It's good to hear that from God. When I was told my lump was malignant, my reaction was "OK, what's next?" Then the ultrasound showed the cancer was invasive throughout both breasts. My reaction was, "OK, what's next?" Surgery took twelve hours, and more cancer was found. Recovery took more than four months. Sixteen weeks of chemo, along with unbelievable bone pain from that, and then phlebitis, then lymphedema. 

I've had so many broken bones in my feet, traumatic concussions, a damaged knee, viral pneumonia, and in every case, I heard God say, "Don't be afraid." So I wasn't afraid. I was usually embarrassed for putting Jack through so much extra trouble, but I wasn't afraid for me.

This weekend was a whole nother story. I was scared. I was a mess. Jack kept telling me, "The doctor said this will take care of it," but I couldn't get rid of my fear. I spent some time in the meditation room at the hospital, but I found no solace. I spent time in prayer talking with God. I could not hear God say, "Don't be afraid." That scared me more than anything. I trusted God; I trust God. I was still scared, and I could not hear God's voice telling me to calm down. Mostly, I heard, "Go be with him."

I don't have an answer as to why I was so afraid. I had four people at least quote Joshua 1:9. Didn't help. It's one thing to know God said that to Joshua; it's quite another to accept that verse was meant for me. I was flat-out scared. 

No platitudes here, just my reflection on my weekend.