He can heal that, too: my word of the year

I started looking for my word of the year in Advent, wanting to start the liturgical new year with an idea of what God was planning for me. 

My word from Jen's generator came easily: fearless. It was the first one that popped up and it instantly felt right. 

My word from God did not come so easily but once it came I knew it was truly from Him: healing.

It took me a month to find it but now that word seems inescapable.  

On Monday of this past week I dreamed* that Death came while I was sleeping, touched my womb, and took my child. Two days later, at 21 weeks pregnant, the midwife could not find a heartbeat though she searched and pressed for at least five minutes. She left the room to arrange for a sonogram and I sobbed. Later, after a sono found a healthy, happy, living baby, I was talking to God about my fear and I heard Him. "I can heal that, too."

On New Year's Day, the Solemnity of the Mother of God, the Second Reading was proclaimed: As proof that you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying out, "Abba, Father!" So you are no longer a slave but a son... And I couldn't help it, the reading from Galatians spoke right to a very old, tender hurt that is currently being beaten upon and I heard Him. "I can heal that, too."

I followed Shannon's posts on body image and hated them all because they hurt so much but as I sat there reading her words and hating my body I heard Him. "I can heal that, too." 

I am afraid of healing because I would rather hide from the pain then deal with it. Healing, it seems to me, means looking at the lies and the wounds and the very deep, old, unfulfilled longings and letting them rage with all their might until they die down like a storm. 

I pondered to God, "Is this how I am to be fearless? Am I to stand up to the fear and let the pain and sobs and all the feelings come?" And He said to me, "I can heal that too." 

I've noticed, and maybe you have too, that I don't hear Him say, "I will heal that," but "I can heal that," which at first seemed a little odd. He is the Father who keeps His promises, so why wouldn't He promise it to me? 

Right now - and this may change as life happens and things are revealed, but right now - I think it's because He knows and I know that the only way He will heal these things is if I cooperate with grace and allow Him to do so. And I think that's where I need to be fearless, in the places where I am scared I need to trust and let Him in and relinquish it all to Him. 

As a role model in fearlessness I was given Blessed Sara Salkahazi as my saint of the year. I knew nothing of her when I first read her name, but she was a Hungarian nun, killed by the Nazis for her work hiding, moving, and helping Jews. I am very glad to have been introduced to a woman with such bravery and conviction. She's got some work to do when it comes to interceding for me!

This is only the beginning and it feels like I may be on the brink of another rough year. But I am hopeful that soon enough God will bring me to a new place with my heart fortified so satan's stupid lies can cause no more pain.

Please, God.
Amen.

* Further context for why the nightmare was so bad for me: When I was pregnant with my oldest, Lydia, I dreamed I was holding a sweet baby girl and from that dream I just *knew* I was having a girl. When I was pregnant with Ben I dreamed I was holding an adorable baby boy and I just *knew" I was having a boy. And when I was pregnant with James I dreamed that I gave birth to a stillborn baby boy on my bedroom floor. When I told Travis about the dream he said to me, "That can't happen." We never talked about it again, though we both worried and, of course, it is exactly what happened.