So many times, I've read that fear is the opposite of faith.
If that is true, I'm pretty much doomed. For instance, over the last few years, I've convinced myself that I'm dying of several ailments, from heart disease to lung cancer to esophageal cancer. Working in the health care profession is not a good thing for me.
Right now, I'm suffering from some terrible heartburn. Blame it on too much Diet Mountain Dew and a plate of lasagna for dinner. It feels like something's trying to crawl up my throat. It's a terrifying feeling. Like an alien is about to burst from my chest. The first few times I experienced this, I ended up getting stress tests and chest x-rays.
Now, my fears are not unfounded. My brother suffered a stroke two years before he died. My sister died of lymphoma of the brain. But, of course, living in a constant state of I'm-about-to-die is not very fun.
I trust that I'm not dying tonight. I'll just suck down some Pepto-Bismol and say a prayer that I'll start feeling better. Sort of like Jesus telling Peter to walk across the Sea of Galilee. I've got to take that step tonight.
Saint Marty is just taking that leap of faith tonight. And some more Pepto.
Walking Across the Atlantic
by: Billy Collins
I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach
before stepping onto the first wave.
Soon I am walking across the Atlantic
thinking about Spain,
checking for whales, waterspouts.
I feel the water holding up my shifting weight.
Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface.
But for now I try to imagine what
this must look like to the fish below,
the bottoms of my feet appearing, disappearing.