Why the woolen mitten, scarf and sweater? Could it be that time of year?
Actually, no. That's not it at all.
Just look at me. Dressed in layers because for some reason, not in my control, my whole body shook. From the chattering of teeth down to the core of my being.
Part of the reason is that the room was as cold as an ice locker. The other reason is this particular MRI was double the intensity of a conventional one. The power of this three Tesla magnet could pick up a pick-up truck. And, I was going to be right underneath the thing.
The first encounter with this behemoth, I buckled under the pressure and had to reschedule. After a few sleepless nights, I faced the giant again. This time with a pocketful of God's promises in my heart, a latin prayer and a banner of the love of God over me.
Dona nobis pacem.
Grant us peace.
This is what I sang over and over as I lay face down, postrate before my King in the belly of the MRI.
The biggest enemy in my thinking is the fear of the process more than having cancer. The tests, the surgery, the treatments and possibly facing a disease that can cause death sets my knees knocking, and not just figuratively.
I don't even know if I have cancer yet.
Still, at times, my mind turns out of control over the possibilities. Of course ending at who will take care of the ones in my care.
I want to be here with them their whole life through. They need me. My love, my encouragement, my guidance.
But, I have to remember. They have each other.
And, I need to rest in the fact they have their daddy here to love on them, and their Daddy in heaven who takes care of all their needs.
Dona nobis pacem.
The peace of God. That surpasses all understanding. This is what I need. For I don't know what the future holds, but He does, and He's holding onto me. And, that, my friends, is enough.
Dona Nobis Pacem