I don't think I truly knew fear until I had a catastrophic loss. I thought I knew fear when I bungee jumped or skied for the first (and last) time, when I jumped off the top of a tall rock into water (in a life preserver) before I was much of a swimmer, when I tried rock rappelling, when I tried any number of crazy things kids try when they're young. At that age, I knew it couldn't happen to me. Nothing that bad would ever happen just because it hadn't. I didn't understand real fear because I didn't imagine for one second that I would lose what was most precious.
Then, I buried my baby. And I joined the crowd for whom it (catastrophic loss and pain) could happen at any time. And the world became full of things that could take yet another loved one beyond where I could see and touch them. Babies, the most fragile of all, through 15+ miscarriages, became the scariest of all because anything could kill them. My peace became tied to everyone I loved, and I knew it could be taken at any time.
As we entered this last year full of heightened fear around the world, I felt that fear enter those around me. Suddenly, everyone understood, at least on some level, that it could happen to anyone and everyone at any time. It didn't matter anymore that it hadn't. What mattered was that it suddenly could.
I have one advantage in all of this: I've had years to work on a wall of peace even as a storm rages inside and out. I'm still not very good at it, but I'm still trying. I don't imagine I'm alone in this. I have studied the scriptures and understand that the one true peace, the one source of real healing, is Jesus. He's called the Prince of Peace for a reason. I trust that He will come again and that I can reach out in prayer and be given the peace I need. I know that we who trust in Him just have to hold onto the light inside as the storm rages, we will make it through.
