Zach can’t go with me, so I’m headed to the hospital alone. I keep picturing the needle, sharp and advancing. I make myself stop. I hate needles. Breathe deep. It’s important. You need to know. I flip on the radio and words to a song I’ve never heard before fills the car.
I don’t want to be afraid
Every time I face the waves
I don’t want to be afraid
I don’t want to be afraid
I don’t want to fear the storm
Just because I hear it roar
I don’t want to fear the storm
I don’t want to fear the storm
Alright God, I get it. The timing was just too coincidental to be accidental. I stay in the car and listen to the rest of the song. I feel more courageous, hopeful perhaps. When I open the door, the radio shuts off. As I walk to the sliding doors, I hear little rocks crunch under my feet.
I cry every day that passes. It’s the not knowing. The helplessness. The powerlessness. I am unable to change my situation. Or the situation of my child. I hate it.
It’s Sunday. We’re listening to church online. I hear words, but it’s as if I’m underwater. They are gurgled. They don’t make sense to me. I’m angry. Afraid. I feel far way.
The sermon is over. I hear familiar chords begin to play out.
Peace be still
Say the word and I will
Set my feet upon the sea
Till I’m dancing in the deep
Peace be still
You are here so it is well
Even when my eyes can’t see
I will trust the voice that speaks
I feel like I wake up a little.
The days march on. It’s been 7 days. Then 10 days. The max they said I should have to wait for my results. Then 2 weeks.
I call everyday asking if they’ve heard anything. I know I’m being pushy. I can’t help it. Waiting. Still. I don’t want to be impatient. Helpless frustration is constantly bubbling up.
I’m unraveling a bit.
We’re upstairs cleaning what will be Jude’s room. I’m supposed to be cleaning, but I’m actually just sitting on the bed in there. Zach and I are silent. The space feels too big for words.
Music from his phone plays downstairs. And then I hear it. The familiar intro.
I’m not gonna be afraid
‘Cause these waves are only waves
I’m not gonna be afraid
I’m not gonna be afraid
I’m not gonna fear the storm
You are greater than it’s roar
I’m not gonna fear the storm
I’m not gonna fear at all
I bolt upright. I am furious. Of course. Has to be this song. Right now. Zach’s eyes widen as he watches me move from the bed, out of the room, and down the stairs. I hate this stupid song. I keep saying that in my head. I can’t reach his phone fast enough to turn the music off.
Everything goes silent.
I’m on the kitchen floor when Zach reaches me. I’m crying. I can see some apprehension in his eyes. He’s not sure how to approach. And I think he’s a little frightened by my reaction.
“I haven’t been praying,” the words tumble out. He doesn’t respond. “When you pray, I can’t close my eyes. I’m so mad.”
“And I hate that stupid song.”
Words keep coming “God feels so far away right now. It’s like He doesn’t care. Everytime another let down happens, it just feels like confirmation that He doesn’t care.”
Zach looks at me thoughtfully, “I think you should listen to the song.”
I’m so relieved that he’s not chastising me. That’s not his way. He likes to let me get there on my own.
He hands me his phone; I push play and we both listen.
Peace be still
Say the word and I will
Set my feet upon the sea
Till I’m dancing in the deep
Peace be still
He grabs my hand.
You are here so it is well
Even when my eyes can’t see
I will trust the voice that speaks
Peace peace over me
Peace peace over me
Peace Be Still by The Belonging CO
nicky banzhaf 