Yesterday my dad and I packed up my belongings and bags of groceries, a wheelchair, a knee scooter and forearm crutches --all that was packed into the car. Then we began our hour and a half drive to see my foot surgeon, to get my stitches out and the go-ahead to begin walking again. AFTER that, the plan was to drop me off at my house. My dad was to assemble my electric wheelchair and then to return home--without me.
In the morning, as I packed my things, I was beset with fear and worry. I knew that I was not ready for the degree of mandatory independence that would meet me at my house. I knew that I would not receive much help as my husband is busy working and my daughter lives in another state and visits every other weekend. My house is not friendly to any kind of walking aids, especially the kind on wheels. The hallways are narrow and I would not fit even a walker inside my bedroom. I was very afraid.
I tried to pray but my fear kept getting in the way. So then it occurred to me to pray my prayer word and quiet my heart. When the fear came to me, I simply identified it (In fact, before I got to that step, believe it or not I did not recognize it as fear!). So when it hit me I named it for what it was and refused to create any mental "stories" about it. I did not project what could happen. I simply named it and let it pass by me. I felt more secure about my ability to focus on my prayer word. (Mine is "Y'shua, which is "Jesus" in Hebrew, meaning "salvation"). However due to the busyness of the morning, I didn't have the length of time I needed to pray longer. But I did find that the knots in my stomach untied themselves and I refused all day to ride the currents of fear to unknown destinations.
So, at the doctor's office, she unwrapped and cut away the bandages on my ankle, covering my incision. The incision was an angry red and warm to the touch. She said that she would not take the stitches out because it looked bad. She said then, that I needed to go for another week staying off the foot and that I needed to go back onto the antibiotics. She left the room and my dad and I sat there discussing what we would do. She came back in and asked what we had questions about. I told her that we were trying to decide if I was to go back to his house or back to my house....where I wouldn't have much help. She said "Go to your dad's, absolutely."
So we returned to dad's and unpacked all that we had spent the morning packing. And then it hit me: my fear and its "stories" had been neutralized and rendered powerless. And God took care of the rest. I needed more time to recover...and He has granted it. All without fear and angst (after my prayer time). In one of the books I've read recently on contemplative prayer it said that this manner of prayer was not, in itself powerful, but that - just as the other spiritual disciplines - it made room for God to work. And that He did, all without terror, begging or tears. In fact I had not even asked Him to make a way for me to stay. I had thought that was out of the question. But He knew what I needed.
Now, as to the possible infection brewing? I don't know. Nor will I speculate. God can work there too....and whether or not it will be healed is not in my hands or even in my prayers. It is up to the Lord the direction He wants me to take.
And now? this AM I have a new prayer assignment...and that is to calm my heart at the possible approach of terrible weather this weekend. I have already asked for His mercy. Freaking out about it beforehand is not profitable, or helpful in any way.
If you want more info on this type of prayer I highly recommend "Flee, Be Silent, Pray" by Ed Cyzewski or "Into the Silent Land" by Martin Laird
In the morning, as I packed my things, I was beset with fear and worry. I knew that I was not ready for the degree of mandatory independence that would meet me at my house. I knew that I would not receive much help as my husband is busy working and my daughter lives in another state and visits every other weekend. My house is not friendly to any kind of walking aids, especially the kind on wheels. The hallways are narrow and I would not fit even a walker inside my bedroom. I was very afraid.
I tried to pray but my fear kept getting in the way. So then it occurred to me to pray my prayer word and quiet my heart. When the fear came to me, I simply identified it (In fact, before I got to that step, believe it or not I did not recognize it as fear!). So when it hit me I named it for what it was and refused to create any mental "stories" about it. I did not project what could happen. I simply named it and let it pass by me. I felt more secure about my ability to focus on my prayer word. (Mine is "Y'shua, which is "Jesus" in Hebrew, meaning "salvation"). However due to the busyness of the morning, I didn't have the length of time I needed to pray longer. But I did find that the knots in my stomach untied themselves and I refused all day to ride the currents of fear to unknown destinations.
So, at the doctor's office, she unwrapped and cut away the bandages on my ankle, covering my incision. The incision was an angry red and warm to the touch. She said that she would not take the stitches out because it looked bad. She said then, that I needed to go for another week staying off the foot and that I needed to go back onto the antibiotics. She left the room and my dad and I sat there discussing what we would do. She came back in and asked what we had questions about. I told her that we were trying to decide if I was to go back to his house or back to my house....where I wouldn't have much help. She said "Go to your dad's, absolutely."
So we returned to dad's and unpacked all that we had spent the morning packing. And then it hit me: my fear and its "stories" had been neutralized and rendered powerless. And God took care of the rest. I needed more time to recover...and He has granted it. All without fear and angst (after my prayer time). In one of the books I've read recently on contemplative prayer it said that this manner of prayer was not, in itself powerful, but that - just as the other spiritual disciplines - it made room for God to work. And that He did, all without terror, begging or tears. In fact I had not even asked Him to make a way for me to stay. I had thought that was out of the question. But He knew what I needed.
Now, as to the possible infection brewing? I don't know. Nor will I speculate. God can work there too....and whether or not it will be healed is not in my hands or even in my prayers. It is up to the Lord the direction He wants me to take.
And now? this AM I have a new prayer assignment...and that is to calm my heart at the possible approach of terrible weather this weekend. I have already asked for His mercy. Freaking out about it beforehand is not profitable, or helpful in any way.
If you want more info on this type of prayer I highly recommend "Flee, Be Silent, Pray" by Ed Cyzewski or "Into the Silent Land" by Martin Laird
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