My mother was an inveterate worrier. A night wouldn’t go by without her lying awake worrying, usually about me or my sisters, but on the rare occasions she felt out lives were in some form of equilibrium she would turn her attention to worrying about her sisters’ children instead. Most of the things she worried about didn’t come to pass, and the bad things that did happen were invariably unexpected, but she consoled herself with the notion that although she was worrying about the wrong things, she was probably doing the right amount of worrying.
As a Christian, I have lived most of my life believing that God has his hand on my life; not to protect me from bad things, but to show me the way through them. He has made promises and ‘placed a call’ on my life which, in the words of Hebrews 6v19 are an ‘anchor to the soul’. Worrying about things therefore has not been my default mode, but that doesn’t mean I don’t experience moments of overwhelming anxiety.
The fear I currently wrestle with regularly, and the one that most easily causes me to doubt that God has his hand on my life, is the fear of what I would do if Sally was no longer around. In my pre-disability life that was a low level fear (mainly centred on what it would be like living on my own without my closest friend). However my deteriorating physical condition means I am increasingly dependent on Sally for daily living and the fear of being alone is therefore far more strongly delineated. It usually grips me in the middle of the night – why do fears so often come in the dark – and I have to consciously counteract it by thinking of all the amazing other people in my life and the fact that I am blessed with family and resources that so many people don’t have. I am not alone, and we will work it out somehow.
Like all good disaster recovery plans, they are only worth anything if they actually work, and the clever thing to do is to put them to the test from time to time. To that end Sally decided to break her leg a fortnight ago, to generate a test scenario that is more than just a desktop exercise. 🙄
We were fortunate that the accident coincided with having medically trained family members staying for the weekend, so the immediate crisis was expertly managed. At the same time the network of neighbours sprang into action providing food, bin handling, lifts, and other practical assistance, ably supported by friends and family. We have also learned not to hold back when it comes to asking for help, but we try to spread our favours around by nominating a Neighbour of the Day! It has however emphasised just what a tightrope we have been walking since my diagnosis and the need to remain ahead of the curve in terms of putting in place facilities to support daily living. It is no good, for instance, waiting until you can no longer get up a flight of steps before you think about installing a lift.
This time will pass and we will get back to something resembling normal in a few months. Importantly we have proved what we already knew – we are surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers who are cheering us on. We may be walking a tightrope, but we are roped-on. We are not alone.
Having been the last to comment on your last post, maybe I will be the first to comment on this one ,now I have figured out the subscription notification…Ian , you will never be alone and uncared for , of that I’m sure . But I sincerely wish that you and Sally are together for many many years to come . And I hope that she recovers very quickly . Ps aren’t The Irons doing well this season ??
Thanks Amanda. Yes, it is a strange feeling being a West Ham supporter at the moment. Regular nosebleeds as we are not used to the altitude 😂
Hey Ian, thank you for being so honest. When I read your posts I go through so many emotions. It still never ceases to amaze me how all the pieces come together at the right time. The family with medical knowledge being there, the wonderful neighbours, the community in general. This makes my heart race as this is true love and support, being there for each other. One day, when the borders are open, we will take a turn of being about to bless you both practically and in person.
So sorry to hear about Sally. I hope she makes a speedy recovery. Good to know you have lots of support around you. You are definitely roped on. Sending lots of love to you both. It was so nice to see Sally recently after many years. I was very rude though and the first thing I said was “is that your real hair or do you colour it?”. It is so amazingly bright still. My hair has lost a lot of its colour but I still look at it and think I’m ginger!! Take care xx
😂😂
The line about your mother “doing the right amount of worry” certainly struck me. I don’t always worry about the most relevant or soluble thing but it somehow pleases me to balance the worry account!
More importantly, thank you as ever for your inspiring words and wisdom and hope Sally is well soon. (But I can’t bring myself to wish West Ham well!)
Love to you and your family and friends and all those helpful neighbours.
Matt
Thank you Ian – for your honesty and vulnerability. We all need the love and practical help from others at times in our lives of which you yourself have given many times . I’m reminded that in the storms of life we have the confidence in the knowledge that God is our strength. You are not on your own – keep your eyes on Jesus – He hears you – especially in the dark hours!
Oh no! Poor Sally! I hope it’s not too painful and heals quickly. Thinking of you both and praying for peace and providence in every area. Sending lots of love. Xx
I’ve been pondering a comment but Matt Chamberlain has pretty much said what I was thinking so, ditto. As a Spurs follower, I even concur with his comments about West Ham!
As for nighttime fears –
Things that go bump in the night
Give one a terrible fright
But it’s the hole in the ear
That lets in the fear
Not things that go bump in the night
Salut
Hello Ian (Three comments from me)
– As an internal auditor, getting anyone at Church House to test out a disaster recovery plan was always a bridge to far!
– Your comment about stairlifts: the week before my Dad died, we had just such a conversation…….
– And I really enjoyed my first visit to the London Stadium to see Brentford win in the last minute, although sadly that was our last away win and we are slowly drifting towards the drop at the moment!
Wishing Sally a speedy recovery and God bless to you both