Fear No Evil…

Though I walk through the valley of darkness,
I fear no evil; for you are with me;
your rod and your staff bring me comfort.

Psalm 23:4

I just received a postcard reminding me to make an appointment with my dentist. Though I don’t fear the dentist as some people do, I do admit to being “doctored out”. I’ve recently taken care of all of my annual check-ups and I’ve had enough. Oddly, that last phrase reminds me of a time long ago when I felt exactly the same way…

As a little child, I feared a visit from the doctor more than anything else. (Yes, doctors made house calls back then!) Though our family physician was pleasant enough, he visited our home only when one of us was ill enough to require immediate intervention. That intervention usually took the form of an injection. Much to my dismay, I was the designated patient on one such occasion. Though only five, I recognized those dreaded letters as my mom spelled “D-o-c-t-o-r” to inform my dad that she was making the call. I’m certain that my tears began to flow by the time my mom said “c”.

An hour or so later, the doctor arrived with that dreaded syringe. After assessing my symptoms, he opened his black bag as my dad lifted me over his shoulder. I carried on so that I didn’t feel pain. When my dad told me that it was over, I cried even harder. I was angry as ever that the doctor had accomplished his dastardly deed. I spent the next half hour on my dad’s lap. He wrapped his arms around me as my sobs faded into whimpers. When my whimpers disappeared, my dad pulled me close to whisper in my ear. “Tomorrow, you’re going to be all better,” he promised. I believed his every word. Though he wasn’t able to keep me from the evils of this world, my dad did love me through them all.

Dear God, thank you for loving me even more powerfully than my dad did.

©2018 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

I Fear No Evil…

Though I walk through the valley of darkness,
I fear no evil; for you are with me…

From Psalm 23:4

When I was a little girl, I feared a visit from the doctor more than much else. (Yes, there was a time when doctors made house calls!) Our family physician was pleasant enough. However, he visited our home only when one of us was seriously ill and in need of immediate intervention. That intervention usually came in the form of an injection.

Much to my dismay, I was the designated patient on one such occasion. Though only a kindergartener, I recognized those dreaded letters as my mom spelled “D-o-c-t-o-r” to inform my dad that she was making the call. I’m quite certain that my tears began to flow by the time my mom said “c”. An hour or so later, the doctor arrived with the necessary inoculation. After assessing my symptoms, he opened his black bag as my dad lifted me over his shoulder. I carried on so that I didn’t feel pain of the injection. When my dad told me that it was over, I cried even harder. I was angry as ever that the doctor had accomplished his dastardly deed.

I spent the next thirty minutes or so on my dad’s lap. He wrapped his arms around me as my sobs faded into a whimper. When that whimper disappeared, my dad pulled me close to whisper in my ear. “Tomorrow, you’re going to be all better,” he promised. I believed his every word. Though he wouldn’t be able to keep me from all of the evils of this world, my dad loved me through them.

Dear God, thank you for my parents and all of the amazing souls who reveal your love, one hug at a time.

©2017 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Fear Not

Though I walk through the valley of darkness,
I fear no evil; for you are with me;
your rod and your staff bring me comfort.

Psalm 23:4

When I was a little girl, I feared a visit from the doctor more than anything else. (Yes, there was a time when doctors made house calls!) Our family physician was pleasant enough. However, he visited our home only when one of us was seriously ill and in need of immediate intervention. That intervention usually came in the form of an injection.

Much to my dismay, I was the designated patient on one such occasion. Though only a kindergartener, I recognized those dreaded letters as my mom spelled “D-o-c-t-o-r” to inform my dad that she was making the call. I am quite certain that my tears began to flow by the time my mom said “c”. An hour or so later, the doctor arrived with the necessary inoculation. After assessing my symptoms, he opened his black bag as my dad lifted me over his shoulder. I carried on so that I didn’t feel pain of the injection. When my dad told me that it was over, I cried even harder –angry as ever that the doctor had accomplished his dastardly deed.

I spent the next thirty minutes or so on my dad’s lap. He wrapped his arms around me as my sobs faded into whimpers. When my whimpers disappeared, my dad pulled me close to whisper in my ear. “Tomorrow, you’re going to be all better,” he promised. I believed his every word. Though he would not be able to keep me from many of the evils of this world, my dad was able to love me through them.

Dear God, thank you for my mom and dad and all of the amazing souls who reveal your love, one hug at a time.

©2015 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved