Fear and Patience

When I was in first grade, I made a friend, which was a big deal for a shy kid like me. We shared a reading book in class near the end of the year, and I couldn't believe my luck. She was kind, pretty, and genuinely nice. She was the kind of friend who made the world a little brighter and a little less frightening for a scaredy cat like me.

That summer she was diagnosed with cancer. It was big and it was bad, and she didn't come back to school for a couple of years. She fought hard and lived to the age of 20. Her disease terrified me, and I never forgot her.

When I had a baby, that fear was alive and well in me. Every time Olivia got sick that first year (which was often), I worried. When a doctor couldn't immediately diagnose something as harmless, I feared the worst. I even wrote a letter to my dear friend's mom and asked her how she had done it. I shared my fear, and she encouraged me not to live in it. Then God showed up and taught me how to follow her advice.

Fast forward seven years. Olivia had this terrible strain of flu last week. I knew God was right there. Through a week of high fever, two doctor appointments and an emergency room visit, He was right there with us, and so was His peace. Then the doctor's phone call came that threw me into instant tailspin. The chest xray had shown a tumor on the long bone in Olivia's arm, and they wanted more xrays. I was standing face to face with my absolute worst fear. Walking into the children's hospital for those xrays that day broke my heart wide open. I remembered my friend and her battle with cancer as I led my own child by the hand.

I have begun to notice that the most difficult trials in my life are the very experiences about which I once declared, 'I don't think I could ever survive that.' But the Word says "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13) By bringing me to the most dreaded trial, He gives me a chance to prove my faith to Him so that He can prove His faithfulness to me.

I had a moment of overwhelming darkness yesterday as I sent Olivia off to school. So many unknowns, so many questions, so much waiting. But I took the advice of David from Psalm 62 and I poured out my heart to God, for He is my refuge. (v 8) And as I wept aloud to the Father, as I shared my fear and my sorrow with Him, He came and met me there in my brokenness. He stilled my raging storm of doubt. And He reminded me that while there was so much that I don't know right now, I do know the only thing that matters. "I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day." (2 Timothy 1:12)

What do you need to entrust to Him today? Whatever or whoever it is, He can handle it. Pour it out to Him. He'll meet you right where you are.

Father, thank You for Your perfect love. Thank You for Your patience when I doubt and Your understanding when I fear. Help me to walk in the knowledge of who You are today instead of the darkness of all the unknowns. Teach my heart what it really means to trust You.

In His unfailing love,

Amy

Copyright 2010, Amy Wallace