(Edit--If you are offended by religious or faith discussions, please stop reading, and have a lovely day.)

My Dad was a philosopher.  He loved to talk about life, love, happiness and the meaning of it all.  And I grew up as his very attentive student and audience.  One of my Dad’s favorite riffs was,

“You know, Joanie, God could have made this all perfect.  No sickness, no poverty, no sadness.  But He didn’t.  He must have had a reason.”

And Dad’s reflection would inevitably lead me to ask “why?”   Dad and I spent many years discussing why God would have made this world and our existence less than perfect.  Was it because of original sin, because of Adam and Eve?  Or was there something more?   We never came up with the one answer.  We had lots of theories, but we admitted, we didn’t understand why an all-powerful and loving creator would let his children suffer.  It was only while I held my Dad’s hand and sat vigil by his bed, to watch him take his final labored breaths, that the thought came to me.  Maybe He just wanted us to take up the slack, Dad.  Maybe it’s all imperfect and we have to suffer and die because He wants us to take care of each other while we’re here. 

I don’t talk much about my faith online.  I admire the many people who can, but I’m kind of shy about the whole thing.  And I’ve probably kept it off this page because I don’t want naysayers making fun of me.   And especially not deriding the science.  Lame, I know.  I should be bolder.

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.   1 Corinthians 13:12

This is one of my favorite verses in the new testament.  I’m thinking of it today, because it’s been three years since Jeff was first treated for CCSVI.  I wanted this treatment to be everything.  I believed that God had revealed this science to all of us and set us on a path of discovery.  I trusted this was His will for Jeff, and perhaps others.  And I had absolutely no idea where it all would take us.  But honestly, I thought for sure it would be clearer.  I probably should have known better.  Life just isn’t as clear as we hope it will be.  We’re just looking at a dim reflection.  (Edit--Jeff just returned from his yearly neuro appointment.  Stable MRI for three years now.  No new or enhancing lesions.  His brain looks "good and stable."  Thank God.)

I’m also writing this because I saw someone make an online attack of a woman who was professing her hope and faith in her healing through venoplasty.  This woman was asking for prayers, and “claiming” her healing on a CCSVI forum.  And another person just went off on her.  And I thought I should speak out. Because faith and science are not mutually exclusive for many.   And we need to respect that.

I’ve discussed religious faith with many physicians since Jeff was diagnosed with MS.  People of science can have deeply held religious beliefs.  One of my favorite people at our church is Dr. Jody Martin.  He works with our high school youth group and is a man of faith, as well as a respected and much-published researcher in biology.  He lost his wife of 30 years to cancer last month.  Dr. Martin was in the pews with us the next Sunday, weeping and hugging all who came to comfort him.  Dr. Martin has written a wonderful book for teens on the compatibility of evolution and the Bible, called   The Prism and the Rainbow.   Because Dr. Martin knows, as do many of us, that those who search for answers in science can also search for answers and comfort in scripture.  The two are not mutually exclusive.

Thanks to Marie, for being my confidant and friend.  She is a model of grace and faith in action, and I cannot imagine going through the past few years without her wise consul.  She’s also a fabulous author, and if you haven’t read her scientific treatise on the theory of CCSVI in MS, you’re missing out.

CCSVI Book

So, whether or not you consider yourself a person of faith or a person of science or a person of both....let’s all respect each other and encourage research.  The truth is, none of has all the answers, and no one is getting out of here alive, so we may as well look after each other while we’re here.  Thanks, Dad, for the philosophy, and thanks Mom, for taking me to church.

Joan