Page 2 of Give Me A Reason

Instead she found herself asking, ‘How can I calm my fears enough to remember to live in the moment? I fear my fire will continue to simmer instead of flare and the constant worry will make me never be able to enjoy life or take notice of the world and its beauty around me. This is no way to live.’”

“It was almost as if the Burning Woman could hear God’s smile over the phone. ‘Breathe. Just breathe, my child.’ Angry at God’s advice, Burning Woman begins to reply angrily, but before she can God adds, ‘Whenever you feel yourself getting anxious – whenever you fail to see the beauty I’ve created because you’re enveloped in worry and fear – just breathe.’”

“I don’t know if I can,” Burning Woman fears.

“You must,” God states firmly.

“Give me a reason.” Burning Woman insists stubbornly.

“’Because, I love you, because you matter, because I have a plan for you,” God states simply and with that advice, the phone disconnects.

I could feel how large my eyes were in my face. I’m not sure how I would have felt about receiving that advice. “I think the Burning Woman’s anger was justified.”

My mom just smiles and continues, “Burning Woman hung up the phone and instead of the initial anger she had felt, uncertainty and despair were the emotions she battled. Worry and fear washed through her in an uncontrollable forceful wave that made her gasp. The flames of her fire began to tamper more than ever. She started to panic, she started to give in, but suddenly, she heard God’s voice in her mind once more giving her instructions. Slowly but surely faith and hope began to push back the worry and fear. Before she could think twice, she closed her eyes and did as she was told - she inhaled. She inhaled, once, twice, three times…”

“What happened?” I ask my mother anxiously.

“When her eyes opened, her mouth did as well in shock. It had begun to rain and instead of being frightened at the sight, she felt wonder. Her fire was burning brighter and higher than ever before. The simple act of hope and faith made her fire roar even in the rain.”

“How?” I ask bewildered.

My mom’s smile becomes radiant, “What does a fire need to burn, Remy?”

Brows in a furrow, it takes me a moment to understand. When I do, my smile is wide, “Oxygen.”

She nods, “Oxygen. As soon as Burning Woman stopped worrying she was able to live in the moment. She could breathe. She was able to exist in the here and now instead of wrestling with unknown possibilities. It’s important, Remy, that when we get stuck in life’s attempts to make us lose hope - when we get caught up in the past or fret over the future - that we have reasons to fight against those feelings. Writing them down will allow us to tangibly see all the reasons we have to keep going and remind us of all the things in life we want to accomplish – all we want to do, see, feel or whatever the case may be. It’s important that we stop, breathe and live in the here and now. It’s all too easy to get caught up in things that may never happen – to borrow trouble. We will always have worries and fears, but if we give into them they’ll start dimming the fire we have within, and we’ll lose sight of all we have to appreciate around us.”

“Wow. I like that story,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she reaches out and touches my cheek with love and tenderness. “That’s why you and I are going to write a list of reasons, Remy. The places we want to go, the things we want to see and experience… those are our reasons for pushing through the tough times. When we are having trouble, when our fires are simmering, it will be a good reminder for us.” She trails off and her pen begins to move across her paper as she starts on her own list.

A tear runs down my cheek remembering her words and the story she told that night. We had no idea that in a year’s time, life would throw us such a horrendous curveball that we would practically forget all about those lists. We had no idea how hard hope and faith would be to hold onto, or that the next few years would be full of pain, fear, suffering and constant worry. Or at least that’s how it was for me; her story may have been a bit different. That night, we ended up spending the rest of the evening making those lists. We wrote them, read them aloud, laughed together over our dreams and wishes, and weren’t afraid to share and speak them no matter how trite or imaginative.

That night, we gave each other another reason.