Fear

"God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

2 Peter 1.7 (KJV)

This scripture text popped into my mind this morning while I was sitting on the balcony wondering why I had slept so well and where the fear had gone. As I said in Wednesday's post, the news that I'd have to await treatment until the bone aberration in my back was clarified resulted in a lot of psychic discomfort and fear. These emotions plagued me on and off throughout Thursday, but seemed to dissipate in the night.

I think the words from Peter have some hints about how that happened.

Interesting that the two terms that book-end this saying—"fear" and "sound mind"—are not only opposites but also seem to outline the starting point and destination of a journey. In dramatic terms, fear is the stasis and intrusion that starts the battle, and a sound mind is the resolution. The middle terms—"power" and "love"—are the mechanisms for getting from A to Z.

Here's how I think this works.

A major cause for my fear, as I mentioned in my post "Setback," was my sense of suddenly entering an out-of-control, chaotic, unplanned for situation in which not only the diagnosis but also the possible treatment options and prognosis are all unknown. Prior to Dr. Kang's phone call, I knew my diagnosis, my plan of treatment was set, and the prognosis seemed excellent. I was in a position of power vis a vis my cancer. Now, suddenly, I was powerless. I needed to get power somewhere—a sense of control over my situation. Peter says such power comes from God. OK, but God works in strange ways, and as a Quaker I think those ways frequently utilize our own bodies and minds.

I think two things gave me a renewed sense of power. The first was patience and work. Since there was nothing I could do about the spine situation, I had to focus on what I could do something about—teaching my classes and catching up on my work. Even having a bit of fun putting up a hummingbird feeder. (Side note: So far only one hummer customer that I've noticed.) I think that simply waiting, and also doing what was under my control, did a lot to restore my sense of power.

The other power mechanism is writing this blog. Writing, like the fine and performing arts, is a way of beating back chaos and making sense of the irrational. Sam Smiley says in his book Playwriting that writers "reconstruct through their personal vision a substitute universe in their art. For that material, space, and time, they destroy some of the world's confusion. Artists don't want to end the world; they wish to create it." When I write about my experience here, as Sam says, I reconstruct it. As I recreate my experience through the simple act of writing about it, I gain a sense of power over it. Nothing has changed in the situation; everything has changed in me. "Not the spirit of fear, but of power . . ."

What about love?

Love is a relational human activity in which one party expresses its commitment to the other's well being. (Note that loving doesn't require liking, although liking sure makes the act of loving a hell of a lot easier. Jesus commanded, "Love your enemies." Not like 'em but love 'em—demonstrate your concern for their well being). This is where you the readers of this blog, along with many, many others, have had a direct impact on defeating my fear. Simply knowing that dozens of people are taking time out of their over-busy lives to read these scribbles tells me that many people are loving me; it's terrifically affirming. And many have gone beyond that simple, powerful act of reading by assuring me of their thoughts and prayers or by actually doing things that empower through action. See the first of these blog posts for a partial list.

And here are 2 recent examples: In response to my post "Setback," Genevieve took the time to comment that she went through several needle biopsies, and she reassured me about the process, based on her experiences. Bam! Take that, fear! Second sample: Amy was having a really hard time today with fear about my situation and with loneliness. (If love is relational action that demonstrates commitment to one's well being, loneliness must be its absence.) Tonight as she sat alone, waiting for Jeannette Wall's lecture to begin, she sobbed as she talked with me on her phone. But after Wall's talk, Amy ran into Alan Read. Alan not only spent a long time talking with her but also put her mind at ease from his experience undergoing multiple bone scans in relation to his own prostate cancer. When she called me later, she was a changed woman. The fear was under control. She had received the medicine of love.

"Not the spirit of fear, but of love . . ." God's gifts also come through other people.

So there it is: sound minds restored through power and love.

I know it's not a one-time fix. Ol' man Fear'll be back. But I've got some weapons with which to chase him back into his hole. Thank God.