Facing Fear

My husband is out for the night so I have a moment to write, with baby in arm mind you, but will try to get as much out before I get tired of typing with one hand. These last two days have been a little scary for me. The tingling in my hands and feet have now turned into a numbing feeling that has extended to my mouth and jaw. It's the strangest feeling and rather disturbing actually. This dizziness is also becoming stronger and though I'm trying so hard to distract myself from the odd sensations I'm experiencing, it's hard to ignore. I have an appointment on Monday to see an alternative doc who works with anti-aging herbs and supplements and will hopefully check my hormones to see about getting them back in order since I assume they're imbalanced.

We had a busy weekend though which helped my morale and thank God for that. My husband's co- worker had an Octoberfest party that we all attended last night and I had a lovely time hanging out with his guests. Very nice people and yes, they were Italian which is always a plus for me :) Anyway, last night I had a cathartic moment and needed to cry. There are moments when the weariness of always feeling unwell is just too much to bear and yesterday was one of them. It could be exacerbated by the fact that my prayer life is struggling right now because whenever I have a heart to heart with God, and by that I mean getting into real mental prayer and opening up my soul to that first mansion that St. Theresa speaks of, I find I am scared to go to Him, and I am trying desperately to discern why. It's as though the thought that God loves me pushes me away from Him since I don't know how to really believe it with all the things I've had to deal with in my life. I know everyone has their crosses, and that I am just one of the millions of people who has to carry theirs, but the desire for closeness with the One who is allowing them to weigh upon me is difficult. I am afraid of His love when it demands I suffer so much. Perhaps that is wrong of me to say, but it's the truth. Believe me, I want to love God, and I want to get to heaven, but I don't know how it's possible to achieve being so weak and so intimidated by what it requires of me. If I have to live with this mysterious illness for the rest of my life, it will be hard and I pray that God will strengthen me to follow His will, but some days I don't know how I will. It gets depressing having one thing happen after another. I'm only 32 and feel like I'm 60. The brain fog is getting worse and I fight to remember things I was talking about just seconds ago. It bothers me terribly.

Today at our local church they were offering the sacrament of the anointing of the sick. I felt driven to attend since I figured I am sick, despite the fact that I don't know what it is that's making me feel this way, and need all the help I can get, whether physical or spiritual. It was a very moving experience and very humbling as well. I am not one who likes to stand out in a crowd, but today it was hard for me not to. This spirit of sadness and fear and longing for God's help welled up from deep inside me, causing me to weep so intensely thus making it hard for me to appear discreet. I just wanted to bury my head in the floor and disappear, however this time I couldn't. Some dear woman saw me upset and came over to tell me she saw me praying intently and wanted me to know she was praying for me and for whatever was troubling me. I was so touched and wanted to take her and hold her close to me, but that would have been weird for her so I didn't. But it meant more than she will ever know, knowing that she cared enough to pray for me and to tell me too. God bless that sweet woman.

A few minutes passed and the priest called everyone up to the altar and had us offer some intercessory prayers and then we lined up as though we were receiving communion and he anointed our forehead and palms. It was a very simple thing, yet I felt so comforted by it and pray that should I not be healed physically, that I at least be given the strength to walk with Him in peace and resignation, knowing that  whatever happens to me, whatever bothersome things I have to endure, that He is with me helping me every day to face it with Him.

By no coincidence, later this afternoon, my husband and I attended our local symphony's production of Mozart's "Requiem Mass". It was so beautifully dark and full of passion and haunting melodies. This music reached somewhere so deep within my soul it was almost a supernatural experience for me-- again another reason why I cry at concerts, or anywhere I hear exceptionally beautiful music. I try to surround myself with these ethereal arrangements of music to remind me, and to instruct my children, that in all things beautiful we can find a little piece of God. I want them to always remember me as a mother who gave them beauty in all it's many varieties. For without beauty, we are cold and sterile and bereft of the joys of the heart and that is not what I want for my children.

Anyhow, getting back to the concert, I found it interesting that the program commented on Death and how we have become a society afraid of Death, a reality that Mozart went so far as to call his "best friend". He said that he'd became so familiar with Death that he no longer feared her, but welcomed her whenever she would come for him. How far we are from this state of mind! I confess that I myself am a victim of fear of Death- why I started getting anxiety attacks at age 9 when my hamster died. I know she is not to be feared if we are in friendship with God, but I think therein lies the problem; so many of us are not working on building that friendship. We get lost in the routine of life and lose sight of the goal, i.e. eternal happiness and union with our Creator.

From my perspective, I think I would not fear Death so much if, as I told God today, I didn't have children. See, I worry about them, and I wonder if I will be there for them when they are older, like my mother has been for me. But like I've been told before, everything is a gift and nothing is ours, not even our children. God can take care of them without me, and though this is a hard thing to consider, it's true. Many people have lost their parents at young ages. Mozart, and even the conductor of this orchestra, lost their mothers at a  young age. While it's not ideal, it's something I have to be open to. All of us with children have to be open to that. Eternity is our home and we have to remember that. Why do we cling so much to this fallen world? The unknown is scary for us, and I for one am someone who struggles doing anything unfamiliar or unplanned. But in my heart I know there is going to be a journey I will have to take to a place I do not know and where no one can go with me. It's a frightening thought, but I have to make an act of faith and hope in the God that I, in my mind, know loves me, but who I fight to let get closer to me. Why must love be so painful for me to embrace? To want and not want. To desire and yet be afraid to get too close. Lord, break these fears that hold me back from You! Fix this broken vessel you've created. Help me be what you desire and to walk blindly in the shadow of Your cross.

Thanks for listening to me emote this evening. It's been a difficult couple days. Blessings upon you all. Good night.