The Loss of the Orphan

I have been living in fear. I have been fearful that God will take away the things I love – my children, my husband, family – if I trust in Him wholeheartedly. Logically, it makes sense concerning my history. In the past ten years I’ve lost my mom, left my home, left my new home and place I had wanted to stay forever to follow my vocation, was unable to have the wedding I dreamed of because of postponing it twice, and have been dealing with declining health– and I’m not even thirty! Admittedly, it is a lot to deal with, but surely not for someone of faith.

I’ve identified with Job since my adolescence– crying out to God, mourning my losses, and placing my trust in Him; “you give and you take away, blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). But where Job continued to believe in God’s goodness and presence even when not felt or seen, I let the fear that He had left me seep in. The fear took hold slowly, here and there, and then all at once. When I first started realizing its presence, I thought that I had the ability to stamp it out, that I had the power. Me. That fear became a choke-hold on my soul. I have gained so many good blessings, I have so much to lose. I have never had so much to lose before and that is frightening.

I began struggling to even go to Mass, not because I do not love God or don’t want to serve Him, but because uniting with Him necessarily means giving Him everything I am and have. Intellectually I know that heaven is worth giving up every earthly good, even my loved ones, to possess. But we are not solely intellectual or spiritual beings. No, physical possessions are not the ultimate good, not even physical bodies or people or health. However, physical realities are meant to point us ever towards the greater spiritual realities. I was losing my compass, my grounding and was giving in to fear. I was alone.

“I will not leave you orphans,” Jesus said to the Apostles in John 14:18, and He says it to us. I first became familiar with this verse after my mom died and it brought me much hope. That was not the first time I internalized the idea of God becoming my family, though. Many years ago, in a time of distress, I heard God speak to my heart in the way St. Teresa of Avila describes: “The words are very distinctly formed; but by the bodily ear they are not heard. They are, however, much more clearly understood than they would be if they were heard by the ear.” God spoke to my heart, “I am all the family you need.” How incredibly comforting that God vows to be my family no matter what I gain or lose! Conversely, how frightening to think that everything else could fall away because He is my only absolute necessity. That is a hard reality to accept.

Recently, John 14:18 has been coming to me unsolicited. I had resisted meditating and contemplating it because I was still so afraid. Then the spiritual touched the physical. A friend began working for the company that took over the one my mom worked for when she died. One morning, she texted me a picture of a set of keys saying she recognized the handwriting on them. There, on the tag, in her own handwriting, was my mom’s name. She is still here, she is still communing with me spiritually and physically. The most powerful prayer is the prayer of a mother, I told her the morning she died, and now my mother prays for me perfectly; she loves me perfectly now.

I had always thought that the love talked about in “perfect love casts out all fear” had to be my own love, that I needed to love perfectly to no longer be afraid (see 1 John 4:18). But it has nothing to do with how well I love. God loves perfectly and it is His love that casts out fear, even the fear entrenched deeply in my heart. I do not live in fear anymore. I still fear, but it does not chain me. My Lord and my God, let Your Blood inebriate me and run through my veins as my own blood, so that it is no longer I who live, but You who live in me.

Theresa Williams

Theresa Williams

"I have become all things to all, to save at least some" (1 Cor. 9:22) basically describes her life as writer, homemaker, friend and sister, wife, and mother of 2 spunky children, all for the sake of Gospel joy. She received her BA in Theology, Catechetics/Youth Ministry, and English Writing from Franciscan University of Steubenvile. Currently, she is a homemaker and freelance writer. Her life mottos are Ad Majoram Dei Gloriam and "Without complaint, everything shall I suffer for in the love of God, nothing have I to fear" (St. Teresa Margaret of the Sacred Heart). She is Pennsylvanian by birth, Californian by heart, and in Texas for the time being. Yinz can find her on Twitter @TheresaZoe.

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2 thoughts on “The Loss of the Orphan”

  1. Pingback: Will Pope Francis Help Orthodox in Turkey Visit? - Big Pulpit

  2. I’ve also long identified with Job. You might want to reread the book. Job too is filled with fear. When God allows Satan to afflict his body, Job’s fear begins to emerge. He even makes accusations against God:

    “What is man, that thou dost make so much of him, and that thou dost set thy mind upon him, dost visit him every morning, and test him every moment? How long wilt thou not look away from me, nor let me alone till I swallow my spittle? If I sin, what do I do to thee, thou watcher of men? Why hast thou made me thy mark?” (Job 7:17-20, RSV)

    Finally, when Job demands an answer from God, God replies and Job is overwhelmed and, after praying for his “friends, healed.

    Even though loss causes us to fear being left alone, Jesus keeps His promise. We have not been left orphans. And you’re so right, the perfect love need not be yours. Thanks for pointing that out. What glorious insight.

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