Living With Fear II

Yesterday I shared something about the fear that I've experienced since I had surgery and then more recently learned that I would need even more extensive surgery. As I explained, one thing that really helped me was being able to get something concrete on paper in the form of prayers. And for me those prayers take the form of poetry.
It's almost like taking the fear out of me (even though the reality of it is still there) and looking at it from a different perspective. And when I deal with the fear in prayer and in poetry, I can use images. Of course, it helps that God is so multi-faceted--so many images!

One image that has always been very special to me is that of God as mother. And as I prayed with this image, I thought of several things that helped to reinforce that image in relation to dealing with fear. Some years ago I was visiting with a friend and I took her daughter for a walk. The child was about 3 or 4 and the time and she loved to walk in the park near her home and feed the squirrels. We were fine for a while and then the little one tripped and fell. Other than a skinned knee, she was fine but nothing--me, the park, or the squirrels--could comfort home. When we got back to her house, she curled up on her mother's lap and within what seemed like seconds was sleeping peacefully. Her mother, who was a nurse, said that she had read that a young child could sometimes be comforted by sitting in her mother's lap where she could feel the her mother's heartbeat--and, if the child were young enough--that would instill in the child some type of memory of the safety of the womb. Remembering this conversation from almost 25  years ago also reminded me of one of Wordsworth's poems. In it he says that we are born with memories of being with God but these memories quickly fade. I didn't remember the name of it and only could recall one line--but the internet's a marvelous thing! The poem is "Intimations of Immortality" and this is the section I was referring to:

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home:

I also remember reading someplace that each of us as individuals has been the mind of God for all eternity. Awesome thought! And so my prayer, my playing with words and images:

Safe in the Heart of God

Hold me close, my God,

A child held safe and snuggled warm

Within your moth’ring arms,

Safe against the strong and rhythmic beat

Of loving heart,

A beat remembered from so long ago

Within your shelt’ring womb,

The rhythm strong and sure

Recalled from eons past---

A future child

Held safely in the loving heart of

Mother God.

                                                               Ann Marie Slavin, OSF

And finally, each day at Mass I became more and more aware of the words of Jesus at the Consecration of the Mass: "This is my Body; this is my Blood." I was so aware of the fact that my body was certainly not doing what I had thought it would do--what it had always done--what I wanted it to do--heal properly. Suddenly people were talking about "insufficient blood supply" and "strictures," and possible "fistulas" and "hernias." And then "this is my body; this is my blood" took on new meaning, a meaning that I figured I'd better spend some time thinking about and praying about--a meaning that, if I tried and if I really put myself in God's hands, I might be able use in a positive way.

Eucharist

“This is my Body

Which will be given up for you.

This is my Blood

Which will be shed for all.”

So you spoke…

And so your words echoed down centuries,

Sustaining us,

Saving us,

Giving us hope,

Filling fear-filled lives with strength and awe

We cannot fully grasp---

That God-in-Love

Had Body broken

Blood spilled out

For creatures such as we.

this is my body…

breaking down,

taking turns and twists

that planning did not plan.

this is my blood…

lacking substance,

lacking strength

to foster healing’s growth.

take them,

God-in-Love,

weakened body,

weakened blood,

gifts returned to you who gave as gift;

take and use my lack,

my fear,

as gifts for hearts

that cry for strength

and love.

                                                                     Ann Marie Slavin, OSF 

Thank you for sharing these two days of musings with me. Speaking my fears out loud and sharing them here in a more public way has been a type of healing for me. I pray that my sharing may also have helped another person who is, at this time, experiencing fear of any kind about any situation. Let's pray for one another that we continue to trust and to place ourselves in the hands and heart of the God who so truly loves us and wants only good for us.