Hospital waiting rooms are sacred places. Life hovers there between this world and the next, and we gather with our loved ones, waiting, hoping, and praying, that we will be spared heartache and sorrow, at least for a brief moment of time.
We examine our lives in an effort to find some morsel of goodness that we can use to bargain with God. We tell Him that we are willing and able to be a better spouse, parent, and friend, knowing deep in our hearts that no matter what we do, His will trumps ours.
We humble ourselves before the Almighty, realizing that we are less than the dust of the earth, that He knows all, sees all, and has all power to bring miracles to pass. We have seen them in the lives of others, and hope beyond all earthly reasoning, that we might experience one for ourselves.
The minutes turn into hours, and the hours into eternities as we wait for some good word from the operating physician that our loved one is all right, that we can have hope of a full recovery. Only then, do we relax our vigil of fear and ceaseless petitioning in their behalf.
It is in our most difficult moments, when we are brought to our knees, that we realize there must be a power beyond our own that is able to save us from the unfortunate circumstances in which we find ourselves. Even the most devout atheist, when faced with his or her own death or that of a close loved one, is brought to admit that there must be something beyond this life.
Fear makes us question our mortality, our limitations, and our simple human ability. We realize that there must be a power beyond our own. If there is, what is it? Is it a nebulous “force” with no human attributes or compassion? We have to find out. We humble ourselves to the dust, admitting that we are powerless, and plead that we might know for ourselves.
The answer comes. We see things we did not see before. We feel things we did not feel before. We find within ourselves a spark of light that begins to grow and fill our souls. We find that we are loved in ways we have never known before. We feel concern for the welfare of others and realize that we were made for something more.
No matter what happens, fear has formed the foundation of a faith that lasts a lifetime. We know and understand who we are, why we are here, and where we go after we leave here. In our extremity, we turned to God, and realized that within ourselves, our fear has become acquainted with our faith!
©2014 by Denise W. Anderson, all rights reserved.