It’s one of those moments in life when I decide whether or not to put my money where my mouth is. I can either walk the walk or acknowledge to myself that, in some respects, I’m a fraud.

Over the past several years, whenever friends and acquaintances have been in difficult times, when appropriate I’ve sometimes offered up their potential choice of faith over fear. I’ve made a humble friendly suggestion that a path of relying on God could be far less painful than dwelling in fear of what might or might not happen.

And as I write this, there’s a handwritten sign taped on the wall over my desk which says, “With God all things are possible.”

I know I’m not a deliberate hypocrite. There have been numerous bumpy times in my life when I adapted a mantra of “Thy Will, not mine be done” to get me through - and in the end, it always does. It’s one of the primary directives by which I live my life.

But sometimes more than others, it’s a tough posture to maintain. It’s an admission that although we’re trying our best, and doing everything we need to do - we’re ultimately powerless over the results. And alongside our heartfelt prayers for a good outcome, we’re kinda saying to God that, no matter what happens, it has to be O.K. with us.

No, not kinda… we’re saying it.

Whew, what an order! I’m not sure if I can go through with it right now.

This adventure in which I’m currently entrenched isn’t an unusual one. The initial results of a minor surgery I underwent about three weeks ago were spectacular. I felt better than I’ve felt in years - as if someone had given me a drink from the fountain of youth. More importantly, it made me recognize how impaired I’ve been in some areas lately.

But the symptoms have returned, and it’s a bit rough going for the moment. The doctor is taking an entirely new tack, using formerly unspoken terminology - some of which is intimidating. The good news is that I’ve asked the big questions, and I’ve been assured that ultimately everything should turn out O.K.　

But it’s frightening. Who really knows for sure, right?

I don’t know about you, but in situations like these, if I’m not careful my mind will default to the most dire scenarios.

Immediately I thought of my last blog where I wrote about Randy Pausch and taking final inventory of our lives. “What if that was a Divine sign?” I’ve wondered. “What if God was giving me an opportunity to say my farewells, and I didn’t know it?” “What if this is one of God’s little ironic life and death scenarios and I’m the star of the show?”

“Holy Cow!” (or something similar…)

But a breath of sanity has just come to mind.

What about all the people I know who’ve undergone, and are undergoing some kind of health challenge?　Jeez, the list is endless. Come to think of it, most everyone I know has had one - or more.

And suddenly I’m realizing the truth: all that’s happening here is that it’s my turn at bat.

No big deal - no matter the outcome - it’s just my turn at bat.

And how have all those others dealt with their opposing pitchers? As far as I can see: with courage, graciousness, resolve, humor and… faith.　

Shame on me for faltering. I should know better and recognize the lessons all those friends are helping to teach me. All I can do is try my best and leave the results to the God who loves me.

I’m not a fraud - no need to belittle myself or think of myself that way. I’m not a hypocrite - just a human being experiencing understandable emotions.

But I can choose faith in the Almighty rather than dwell in a morass of “what if’s”.

And I can remember everything for which I am so grateful and say, “Thank You, God, for every day of my life.”

It’s another series of opportunities to put my money where my mouth is.　　　

My only question: are fives less fattening than twenties?

Last night I stumbled upon one of those films which tells the familiar story of a long-in-the-tooth philanderer who finally discovers the value of true love. In typical film fashion, he sees the error of his ways just in time to finally get the right girl, along with a real family and a slice of personal redemption.

I’m anything but a philanderer, but some of my friends apparently think of me as “relationship-challenged”. And though I’m sure it speaks to their inevitable appreciation of my fiance rather than their complete lack of faith in me, I’m amazed at the number of folks who, after meeting Claudia, have taken me aside and threatened - in varying degrees of colorful language - “Jack… don’t louse this one up.”

I’m trying not to, guys… I promise.

On another front, as of this writing I’m on schedule for some out-patient surgery this week. It’s a rite of passage which comes with age and, considering how many more serious scenarios could’ve been involved, I’m more grateful than concerned.

But still, truth to be told, I’m a little nervous. Surgery is surgery, and once in a while things don’t go exactly as designed. I’m sure I’ll be fine, but no matter what, I’ll be right on schedule for God’s plan for me.

However, the prospect of all this has gotten me thinking about Randy Pausch.

In case you haven’t heard, he’s the heroic Carnegie Mellon professor who, near the end of his courageous bout with pancreatic cancer, offered a brilliant, heartfelt public inventory of his life, values and hopes for the world, in a speech called “The Last Lecture”. At latest count, over six million people have seen video of the speech or read the resulting book.

I wonder what each of us would say to the world if we knew our lives were in their final acts? I wonder what I’d say if I knew this were my last column?

And the thought occurs to me that even if we’re not at a certain end-of-life circumstance, might it not be valuable to compose a similar fearless, soul-searching documentation every few years anyway? Wouldn’t it be nice to have a chronicle of our evolving priorities and values?

So let’s see… what would I really want to say in such an inventory right now?

At this moment I’d thank the ones I love for being in my life. I’d tell them over and over again how grateful I am for them, and for the pride I feel in who they are. I’d tell them that their presence are the measure by which I know that God loves me.

At this moment I’d thank my friends for their devotion, their laughter and their unconditional caring. I’d thank them for seeing me through my toughest hours and making the good times so utterly sublime.

At this moment I’d thank my temple for allowing me to ply my craft in praise of God, and filling me to the brim with gratitude, support and friendship. I’d tell them that my participation in this shuel gives my life meaning beyond my wildest dreams.

At this moment I’d tell my colleagues that their artistic and spiritual collaborations are oxygen for my mind and soul, and through them I allow myself to be the artist I’ve always dreamed of being.

And at this moment I would express hope and optimism for the future of this world. I would emphatically state my belief in the inherent goodness of humanity.

I would reveal that every day I’m humbled by mankind’s undying quest for spirituality, love and companionship. I’d express my unwavering conviction that, despite seemingly unjustified challenges which befall us, God knows exactly what He (or She) is doing.

And I’d wonder how my thoughts today will compare to the next time I do this exercise.

And how about you? What would you want to say to the world at this moment?

Re-reading my list, I hope my intentions don’t change much. I guess a guy who’s formerly “relationship-challenged” can find some clarity too, even it he’s not in the movies.