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Opening my mouth to answer I hesitate for a moment, I didn’t mean to initiate a big conversation about God and faith, but again, it’s certainly on my mind. Looking into his kind eyes once more, I take a deep breath and then find myself telling him everything. I share the pain in my heart due to the loss of my mother. I tell him about how awful it was to see her sick and to watch her die. How I still feel guilty because I was unable to do anything to help her. I tell him how losing her was like losing a part of myself. Then, with tears in my eyes, I tell him about my own diagnosis – how not only do I have breast cancer, a rather aggressive type and they believe it’s in my lymph nodes and if that’s the case, then realistically my time is numbered. I confess I’m struggling with the choice to seek treatment, or to simply let go and do nothing and why I feel that way. I hold nothing back and the whole time he listens well. He only comments when he needs clarification and looks in my eyes the whole time I speak. His silent way of letting me know I’ve got his undivided attention enables me to tell all.
“So, why? Why me? I feel selfish even asking that, but I’m not going to lie about how I feel. I don’t understand why these things happen.” I look at him, my face pleading with him for an answer.
“I’d love nothing more than to be able to give you a definitive answer, to give you a numbered list right now of all the reasons God has for making the decisions he does – such as this one. But, I can’t. The simple truth I can offer you is that God is the only one who knows why these things occur and I am persuaded that there’s a reason for them.”
“I wish you could too,” I wipe my eyes again and sniffle.
“What I can tell you is that I think these things are like setting up dominoes.”
“Dominoes?” I repeat in confusion.
“Yes. Have you ever taken a domino set or watched as the tiles are lined up in a row, and with one push of the first, all the rest end up going down one at a time as well? It’s a result of the initial action. I believe that these things are kind of like that. One thing happens and there are many things affected as a result. I believe that with every painful or joyous occurrence, something beautiful happens as a result. That we, in our sorrow and loss, or happiness and gain, are the catalyst for events in the lives of others. We may not see it right away, and often never do, especially when the impact is to someone outside of our immediate sphere, but it’s there. Something wonderful happens out of each action. We just can’t see the big picture. He does. And he knows exactly what he is doing. I also believe – and I know this sounds trivial perhaps given your situation, but I also believe he never gives a person more than they can bear. His word promises that. And I believe he gives each person the grace and wisdom to manage each predicament they find themselves in.”
I nod, understanding his explanations, but not sure I feel a whole lot better having heard them. “Sometimes I’m afraid of what I’ve become or will become without my mom. It was just the two of us against the world for so long. And now it’s just me.”
“You have nothing to fear, child. God gave you this life because he knew you were strong enough to live it.”
“To live it,” I repeat in a whisper.
“I think one of the things people tend to struggle with is control. We want to control every aspect of our lives and in this day and age people are misled to believe not only that they should, but that they can. That is one of society’s lies. While not having control of things is frightening – the truth is that there is freedom and peace in letting go and letting God take on your cares and burdens. After all, he is in control of the entire universe. And he can take on your concerns as well. Many scriptures speak to that. You may want to consider leaning in to that truth.” He speaks earnestly yet softly and something within me relaxes at his words. And wants to make them mine. “I’m sure you’ve thought of this, but it’s so very true – none of us know how much time we have. You could leave here and meet an unfortunate accident and be taken from this earth. Time is not guaranteed to any of us. Therefore, I think it’s important that we spend every minute making sure we are living our best life. Sometimes we’re taken into troubled waters so we can be cleansed. Maybe this is your cleansing, Remy. Sometimes we have to experience things we don’t understand so that in the end we’re brought to the exact place we’re supposed to be.”
“And in the mean time?” I ask him wondering what I do in the interim with all this worry and fear.
“Faith, Remy. Hope in the face of hopelessness.” He stands instinctively knowing that I need time to myself, but then turns back once more, “That voice inside of you that brought you in here today? The quieter you become, the more you can hear. Keep listening for it. Oh, and Remy. All those years…you weren’t alone with your mother. He was there all the time and still is.” I nod and with a small smile, he walks away.
Sitting with my thoughts for a few moments, I realize that I feel better for having this conversation. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of me. I’m not sure if I believe everything he said – in many ways it’s his opinion, but somehow I do find it promising.
Standing to leave, I decide to do one thing first. Walking down the aisle I reach the flickering candles and take an unlit one and light it with a burning candle. “For you mom,” I whisper. I don’t say anything else, for I’m confident that words aren’t necessary – my thoughts and feelings are known.
Turning, I move slowly down the aisle to leave the church. I find I’m reluctant – not minding the peace being here has given me. With a sigh, I walk into the foyer and then push the doors leading outside. The sun is bright and I squint at the difference. Once my eyes focus, I freeze.
Sitting on the steps, is Oliver. He doesn’t hear me at first and I can watch him without detection for a moment. He looks sad and worried. He keeps running his hand through his hair and I feel guilty for leaving like that and making him worry.
I make sure to scrape my shoe against the pavement as I go down the first stair making Oliver look over his shoulder and then jump up when he sees me.
I give him a smile and I can see the stress in his shoulders fall away. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
When I reach the same step he’s on, he reaches for my hand, “We need to talk.”
“Okay. We just need a cab back to the resort first.”
“No, I have something better in mind.”
He tugs on my hand and begins walking down the street with a clear destination in mind.
