Rollercoasters

Written 4:45 am September 10, 2008 by Jeanette, Robert’s wife of 29 years

I hate roller coasters. I avoid them in every way. I'll never forget my terror as a child when I went on the Matterhorn at Disneyland. From my vantage point it looked like an innocent enough ride until I passed through that first hole to the inside – it was nothing other than a roller coaster disguised as a mountain! There was no getting off at that point, and there I went – up and down, round and round, clinging on for dear life, vowing never to be duped into riding one again! Robert, on the other hand, loves them. Many times he has begged me to ride on one with him, but when I persistently refused he would go get in line and ride it all by himself. The Boardwalk at Santa Cruz has one of his favorites and the last one I remember him riding was the “Screaming Eel” at Great America in San Antonio, Texas. Each time, I would go look for the right spot in the amusement park to get the best view of the coaster while he waited through the long line. As I watched the cars circle past, I would ask myself, is he on this one, until finally there he would go, with his head thrown back, laughing and yelling. Every glimpse I would have of him, whether being whipped around a corner or on the slow, jerky, uphill climb, or the sudden free fall drop, he never stopped grinning. Then I would make my way back to the ride exit and here he would come, bouncing with excitement and saying, you should have come, it was awesome!
No thanks! What I hate about roller coasters is they are too much like life. They build them so you can’t see what’s coming next – and just the time you adjust to being thrown one direction you get thrown back the other way. This past week I feel like I've boarded a roller coaster. I wish I could enjoy it like Robert used to love the twists and turns of the ride, but my first response is to become anxious and panic and scream let me off. And then about the time I am relaxed and laughing and appreciating the friends who have come around me, there is a sudden free fall drop and I didn’t see it coming… and every instinct within me is to hold my breath and fight against this out-of-control feeling, and start screaming for it to be over.
Jesus has come to smooth out the roller coasters of life. He said some words that are easier to read than to put into practice. “So don't worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will have its own worries. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” I've become so aware of how hard it is to have Robert in a crisis and to live just with what I know today…I want to know what is coming next. I like to see what’s up ahead. I am tempted every minute to worry about the future. Our future…together. But my Master has told me not to worry about tomorrow.
Worry is a hard thing to control. I am tempted to just make it a discipline of my mind…just tell myself to stop worrying…and then remind myself again to stop worrying, but that works about as well as deciding to remain calm while riding the roller coaster – I can only maintain it until the next unexpected turn or drop. Yesterday, after hitting a wall of exhaustion, I remembered words from a servant of my Master: “Do not worry about anything, but pray and ask God for everything you need, always giving thanks. And God's peace, which is so great we cannot understand it, will protect your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Getting rid of worry is not a discipline of the mind – it is a placing of my trust in God. Getting rid of worry takes pouring out everything to God, and then giving thanks, not for this crisis, but for all He has done for us and the many blessings we have already received; giving thanks to a God who has come near to us and made Himself known. And somewhere in that process I let go of my instinct to worry and found a peace of mind, even in ICU, with wires and tubes, machines and beeping – a peace that I can’t begin to explain to you. And as I stand by his bed through this roller coaster ride, I’d like nothing more than to see him throw back his head and laugh.
With my requests poured out and my trust in our God, I have the best view of the ride. But, please stop the ride, I want to get off.