By Mike Aleman | FāVS News Columnist
The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News.
It seems unfair to attack the seat of love, for love is the reason we live. God’s love, love of spouse or special partner, love of our children and grandchildren and, loosely defined, love of friends.
To threaten the reason for being does seem at the very least cruel. Why not attack the hand or foot, some part of which we have two. You can lose a hand and still be able to hold hands. You can lose an eye and still see the loving face you so cherish.
If somehow every love poem, story, book and movie, every love lyric, were erased from our memories, tears themselves would disappear, and Hemingway’s “nada” would dominate. There would be no reason to go on.
Suddenly, strangers were saving my life
I remember the trip to the ER, walking across the parking lot, wondering if I would make it. Sitting in the stark fluorescent light knowing I was in bad shape — sure my bad shape was worse than everyone else’s there.
Suddenly the delirium, the confusion as voices give and receive instruction, the turning of the body, and the realization comes that everyone there was trying to save my life, save me, and I had nothing to do with it. I couldn’t even help.
In the upper left-hand quadrant of my consciousness, I was standing in a tall corridor and on the other side was, well, the other side. No warm light emanated. No welcoming voice whispered, and I thought, “Well, alright.”
Fear was not a part of it, and since I taught Hamlet easily a dozen times, I remembered the lines, “There is a special providence in the fall of the sparrow. If it be now, tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all.”
Calling on my past, I spoke the Lord’s Prayer and recited the 23rd Psalm, a Psalm too many people have grown bored with and hope they don’t have to hear again at a memorial service.
But it remains a most comforting Psalm. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me … Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
I sensed God with me, rod and staff. I felt goodness and mercy. I felt I was near the house of the Lord. Complete comfort.
Today, a slow and relatively patient recovery. (I use patience carefully.) I’m thankful to be alive. Thankful at least that this time I can go on sharing the love he offers — his overwhelming, merciful love.
His love continues to flow through family members and friends who reach out in warm support. I am grateful that this is another day the Lord has made, and I am able to rejoice and be glad in it.
FāVS News uses professional journalists and thoughtful commentary to explore faith, values and ethics. Support journalism like this by making a tax-deductible donation. FāVS is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit. © FāVS News. All rights reserved. Reproduction permitted only to authorized media partners or with written permission.
