Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene by Jan Cossiers. Via Wikimedia Commons

Through circumstances, a knowledge that lasts

Since October 4th, I have been on a medical leave of absence from my position as a high school science teacher, due to unexplained tremors and memory lapses. I won’t pretend these days haven’t been emotional...

Since October 4th, I have been on a medical leave of absence from my position as a high school science teacher, due to unexplained tremors and memory lapses. I won’t pretend these days haven’t been emotional–you should have seen me say goodbye to my kids and pack up my stuff! Still, I can’t think of a single emotion that has ever stayed with me. What has stayed is the conviction that Jesus of Nazareth is the life of my life, a conviction that has grown over time. How did I get here? Memory–hundreds of thousands of times when I said, “It’s You!” All of these are not only remembrances of past events, but events that I carry, that change me bit by bit. Just as when I watch my own child grow day by day, I am one day surprised when that pair of jeans no longer fits. Just so, I am one day surprised to see that I’ve grown. Jesus is more familiar to me, and so I recognize Him more quickly. A coworker once mentioned in conversation, “At least you have your faith to get you through this.” I replied, “I have no intention of ‘getting through it;’ I plan on living during it. This is not a tragedy; my happiness does not depend on the circumstances, but on the Presence of Christ.” Once again, I was surprised at the change in me. A great grace has been given me so that I’m not even tempted to mistake anger, grief, or even fear for lack of faith and hope. I am extremely grateful for all the love and prayers from my family, friends, and those around me; because of you, His Face is ever clearer to me despite difficult and sad circumstances. This path is a path full of gladness because my need for life, for meaning, for love bursts forth so painfully when my hand trembles too much to complete a physical task, or when my mind is too muddled to work on a mental task. The day I was not steady enough to bring a spoon full of soup to my mouth (it kept coming up empty), I looked up and there was Mel, not ignoring it, not making a big deal of it, but looking at me with such love–such love in response to such embarrassing weakness. My need bursts forth, and there He is, so clearly answering that need without taking away the circumstances. As my health returns, I am certain that this journey is not merely an insight that will fade. Through this experience, I have grown and gained a knowledge that lasts.

Bea Wicker, Clearwater, MN (USA)