The Beauty in Fear

I have been spending the past week in Conway Medical Center, sitting with my precious Mom-Mom. She is my grandmother, my mother's mother, who retired in Litchfield Beach, SC. She is one of the great inspirations in life.
I have a long week at my clinic, but any free moment you can find me on the rode sitting with my sweet Mom-mom.

So, I have a huge problem with death. I don't like it. I have seen too much of it, and it has been way to close to home. And, ironically, I signed up to see more in the medical field. I work with people with chronic illenss and in palliative care, but when it is someone I am close to it scares me. Cancer, HIV, infectious disease...I think it bothers me because I don't know what it feels like for them. The process and the pain of how it feels. Medically, I know all the facts. I logically can talk about it from a medical perspective. I can break down the death cycle. But, the moment I feel close to someone with a chronic illness, I fear. And, it consumes me. I know that I am not suppose to fear. I get that. But I still do.

Last night I stayed awake with her and held her hand all night. I prayed fervently. I pleaded to Jesus to pray for her as well. To take away to pain. To make sure that she is not fearing. Nothing came. The fear intensified and I felt heavy. Literally. It was probably one of the hardest nights. Then, I heard a small voice tell me that, "She can hear you. Tell her about me." Crazy, I know, but then I remembered that your last sense to go is hearing. I prayed on her behalf that she knows Jesus and will accept him as the king of her heart. I reminded her that she is the daughter of a King, and I know that she will see his face soon. I assured her that all she had to do what think it in her mind and that is all she needs. He hears her every thought. He knows your pain. He knows the number of hairs on your white head. As soon as I prayed that the fear, that at this point felt light a boulder on my shoulders, was instantly gone. Just like that.

I had a difficult night in Africa similiar to this experience, but last night it was 10 times harder. In Africa, I was sleeping next to Mandie and Rachel was awake across the room. They reassured me and talked me through the similar fears they had. I had them to reassure me. And I was so thankful.

I continue to see the beauty of Jesus is how he meets me in my weakness. My fear. My insecurity. My sin. He keeps meeting with me and showing me more than I could ever imagine. I never realized there could be beauty in fear, but I see it now.