March 11: Miracle of His Skin, God's Love Number Twenty-Two, Letting Go

After telling Ives his story, Ramirez hung around the apartment, and when Annie came home from running some errands, they had dinner.  To his surprise it was enjoyable to be with his friends, and particularly so in this instance, because even through his pain he could see that Ives seemed much happier since their return from England in early October.  Ives seemed less troubled, though he had moments of melancholy.  Still, he had the air of a man who had found something he had been looking for.  And to a certain extent Ives had, but because of Carmen's illness, he'd never gotten around to telling Ramirez about it.  One night, after dinner, he and Ramirez walked over to Central Park with his dogs, Rex and Alice, and Ives explained the miracle of his skin.

As I've said before in this blog, Ives is a modern-day Job.  Right down to suffering from afflictions of the skin.  After the murder of his son, Ives breaks out in sores on his arms, legs, chest, and back.  This condition plagues him for years, until he travels to England with his wife and experiences a kind of holy dream involving his son.  He returns happier, lighter, and cured of his skin ailment.  Ives begins the process of letting go, forgiving.

Letting go is difficult for anyone, especially if it's a worry or anger that's been festering for a long time.  It becomes easier, more comfortable, to live in fear or fury than to make a change.  I am speaking from experience.  I'm a person who lives comfortably with countless worries and doubts.  Off the top of my head, I worry about money, job security, teaching, money, mental illness, sexual addiction...Did I mention money?

Now, as a Christian, I should pray, offer my fears up to God, and let go.  Trust.  That's a lot easier said than done.  However, there's not a whole lot I can do about most of the fears I just listed.  I suppose I could sell my body for money, but that would probably only get me a can of Diet Mountain Dew once a week.  No, pretty much all of my anxieties fall out of my realm of control, and that pisses me off on a daily basis.

So, today, like Ives, I'm going to try to let go, just to see how it works for me.  I'm going to give up worrying about my teaching assignments for the fall semester.  With the death of my friend, who was the English Department head, everything regarding my future at the university is in flux.  I can't control anything in this situation.  Therefore, I'm writing this post, taking a deep breath, and letting go.  It's up to God now.

That's God's love number twenty-two for Saint Marty:  a night free of worry.

Sometimes, letting go isn't a good thing...