Faith vs. Fear

I was looking through some photos today and this is one that gave me pause.  I remember this night so clearly.  I have so many regrets about it.  I even wrote a letter to the prophet about it later--years later.

President Hinckley came to Massachusetts to speak at a regional conference.  My parents were in town.   We all thought it would be great to go.  It was quite a drive from our apartment in Derry  and I don't think it was the best weather.

The whole time we were getting ready,  I was thinking about the woman in the New Testament who had been sick for many years and touched the Savior's robe and was healed.  I wished I could think of a way to get close enough to the prophet for him to touch Ian because I knew I had enough faith for it to work.  I kept it to myself though.  I was embarrassed or ashamed to have such a thought.

Maybe if it had just been Ian and me,  I would have tried it.  I didn't want Keith or my parents to think I was a lunatic when I took off at a dead run, plus I didn't want to get stopped by security with suits and earpieces.   

In the 10+ years since that night,  I've never read or heard the story of that brave, faithful woman without crying.  I've never read the verse in the scriptures that talks about not being ashamed for believing without wondering.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?

I know that blessings are blessings and authority is authority and anyone who worthily holds the priesthood blah, blah, blah.   I was in the same room as the guy who talks to Christ and  didn't take my shot.  Fear really is the enemy of faith.  Could I have changed Ian's life that night?  I can just add that to the thousands of questions that I don't have answers to.