Spirituality Column #801

March 22, 2022

Common Christianity / Uncommon Commentary

Panic Attack

By Bob Walters

“Do not be anxious about anything…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” – Philippians 4:6,8

Considering that our daily, panic-ridden cup of bad news – war, inflation, politics, disingenuous science, illogical and false cultural constructs, ever fewer people going to church – is slopping up over the sides these days, I appreciated that this wonderful, calming verse from the Apostle Paul popped up on our church big screen Sunday.

It’s one of my favorite verses not just for what it says, but for my own story that goes with it.  Twenty years ago, my mom, living alone in Alpena, Mich., fell in her home.  It was October 2002.  She broke a hip, was immobile, passed out, and lay alone in her laundry room for two days before a server at the coffee shop she frequented, who noticed Mom hadn’t been in lately, came looking for her. Dad had passed away in 1991.

The server found mom, called for help, and contacted our far-flung family – my sister in Tucson, another in Spokane, Wash., my brother in northern Wisconsin, and me in Indianapolis.  My brother, and then older sister from Tucson, got there first.  I was chaperoning my younger son’s fifth-grade overnighter at a YMCA camp near Greensburg, Ind., and couldn’t leave for another couple of days.

When I did finally head north, I called friend, mentor, and retired pastor Russ Blowers before turning onto I-69 for the seven-hour drive to northeastern Michigan.

I was panicked about my mom’s immediate health, the lonesome home circumstances that led to her two-day wait for help, the fact my brother and sister were a tad ticked I hadn’t gotten there sooner, what the future held for mom because though her hip surgery had gone well, at age 74 there were many other health issues in play.  And the more news I heard from my siblings – who forgave my tardiness, by the way – the more I was upset.  And I had seven hours in the car alone on a weekday afternoon to think about it.  Turns out, Mom never left the care facility.

Anyway, aside from Fort Wayne, Ind., and Lansing, Mich., there’s not much on that drive north except 400 miles of flat farm fields and forests.  I called Russ to let him know I would be gone a few days.  In telling him of my, or rather, my mom’s situation, I started crying and couldn’t speak.  This was on the 96^th St. bridge as I was set to turn north.

Wonderful, pastoral Russ, said, “Y’know, Bob, when I’m upset, I think of Marian’s favorite verse from the Bible, Philippians 4.  Let’s pray it together right now.” 

That was a Russ trademark; He never said “I’ll pray for you.” He said, “Let’s pray right now.”  Marian, his wife of 56 years, was in her sixth year living at an Alzheimer’s center in Carmel.  And Russ started in, “Don’t be anxious about anything …”

Ever since that day I’ve kept the ribbon marker in my Bible on Philippians 4.

I tell this story because I appreciate the wonderful, calming gift of Christian fellowship and of the Bible’s unrelenting truth.  I go to church not to see if Jesus is still Lord or to panic whether the world is going to survive another week.  Egad!  I embrace and revel in the peace afforded by encountering the love of Jesus with other believers.

Many forces in our world conspire to instill panic; Jesus is a reliable antidote.

Walters’ (rlwcom@aol.com) mom Ruth passed away peacefully six months later.