Fear is a waste of time. Perfect love casts out fear that’s why we need a perfect God, but I didn’t always know how to push through my fear to find my way to Him. If fear grabbed hold, I would feel faint, a spinning outside of body kind of faint. Like in the early morning sleepless hours of a day many years ago when it had awakened me.
Fear had come to meet me face to face. I stood beneath the bathroom light, overwhelmed by what I saw in the mirror. It wasn’t there, my hair. That fear had held me in its grip over what seemed like my lifetime, stealing all sorts of things. It was a fear I never wanted to admit because I was so afraid of it. To speak of it, I worried, might make it happen. But also, because there were so many things so much worse. I was just being vain.
When the doctor told me I’d be needing chemo, I didn’t ask if I was going to live, I asked if I was going to lose my hair.
There you go. I’ve admitted to the superficial, unimportant fear that had once ruled over me.
I had begun to lose my fine silken mane when I stopped eating healthy food in college. It was after a trauma that I stopped eating. At first I didn’t care about my hair, but after a while I did and when it did matter, it robbed me of my confidence, and what self esteem I had managed to hold on to in spite of everything I had been through.
It would return again and again, unexpectedly, when I thought I was doing better and once again eating healthfully. At the time, I thought it was all about my hair, but now I can see it went so much deeper than that. It was all about life, about living a good life, about doing good work and giving back. Having good relationships with God and people. Why did that take me so long to face up to, in spite of my best plans and prayers? Well, God took over the steering wheel I was starting to lose my grip on.
As tears streamed down my face that morning when it was still dark outside and the light inside had revealed my loss, I went back to bed with a sense of wanting to give up on everything, but found instead that a message had arrived on my phone. Surely not all hope had been lost if I cared enough to open it up and read it. I went ahead, I opened it and found that my friend, Sarah, a poet, had sent a letter to Old Dog, Sam, who had died months earlier. Sammy, the Samster. Mr. Sam. She had written a letter to Sam apologizing it was late.
I only knew Sarah through blogging, we had never met face to face, but we had a spirit to spirit connection. And she only knew Sam through my writing about him. She had a spirit to spirit connection with him too. He had been gone for five months, she had pointed out, so how would she know that I would need her words that particular morning? She might not have, but God did.
Mr. Sam still comes up in conversations all the time. His photos pop up in social media all the time, too. Memories return of that sweet old boy we also called the Best Worst Dog ever. Towards the end of his days on earth, we made it through day by day with each other. There was a lot going on. He was helping me through losing my parents and sometimes, that was moment by moment. And that night, I was making it through moment by moment, as if Sam had come to comfort me, along with Sarah.
I know now, the Great Poet, the Spirit, comes into these moments, delivering His grace.
I read the letter and thought to myself, if my words could make it possible for someone to love Mr. Sam, someone who had only experienced him through my words, then I would keep writing. In spite of my vain self and my fear coming true, or because of it, I had received a renewed sense of purpose.
A peace descended over me at that three A.M. hour I had never experienced before. Peace like a River, they say.
I had never felt such peace in the midst of such fear. And that’s when the fear disappeared. I had stared my fear in the face and found grace. I was about to begin to discover a new journey with a new sense of joy. True joy. The kind of joy that can only come to us through our darkest struggles.
Because when a self is poured out, it is a self He can fill. With peace and joy and good purpose, according to His Plan, His Will. And that’s a good thing.
And that’s all I have to say about that!
Yes, according to His plan is, indeed, a very good thing!
After sharing deeply a part of your journey toward healing and God’s grace and timing, what a perfect line to draw across time as you slip into 2023 Deb…”And that’s all I have to say about that!”
We had a Sam, too, though ours was a blue-tick coon hound mix. He was simply, factually, The Outstanding Dog of his Generation. And modest, too. It tore my heart out when we lost him at age 16 (him, not me. I was in my 50s). My daughter, Katie, who’s now 46, has his name tattooed on her shoulder.
In hindsight, I sure wish I had understood what that meant sooner!
Gary, this song popped into my head when I read your comment: 🎵
“Though I may wander
I am not lost
So many distractions
But I, I look to the cross
I made up my mind
I leave it behind
No turning back
No turning back
I’m moving on (Brandon Heath)
🎶
Happy New Year to you and yours!❤️
Larry, What a sweetie. I hope he has met our Sam. I think they would bond immediately. Our Sam was 16 too, in spite of cancer for several years. What a will, what a dog, we called him the Beat Worst Dog Ever. ❤️
It’s always easier to remember that when your talking to someone else about their struggles!
Great wisdom there, Tim
Deb, thank you for sharing this and all the fantastic photos of Sam! Many years ago, we had a dog similar to Sam – Charlie, he was an Afghan Hound x Standard Poodle and he was a great big daft lump of a dog. Recently, on the 30th April of this year, we lost our Tilly (a Jack Russell) to cancer. She was only 9 years old. I’m still finding it difficult to accept. But you’ve had so much more to cope with regarding your own health. I thank God for the animal ‘friends’ he gives us to make our lives that bit better. As for writing, you’re a fabulous writer and it’s evident that God has given you this gift for connecting with people. A life with purpose in it is the best, and more so when it’s a God-given purpose. I’m so grateful to have read your post this morning!
Lesley, you made my day, maybe the entire year. I will hold on to this, “God has given you this gift for connecting with people.” Is it a coincidence that I just signed up to volunteer at the Connection Table at our church? 😉 Thank you for taking the time to write to me. It means so much. You touched my heart. May your coming year overflow with Joy, Love and Peace. ❤️
Deb
Wow, that’s a wonderful God-incidence! 😀
I wish you all the best for the coming year, Deb. X
You too, Leslie, and I forgot to say I’m so sorry to hear about Tilly. But I love to think of her chasing squirrels with Sammy. ❤️❤️