I've been thinking a lot about fear lately. It's beginnings. It's mechanisms for movement. How it settles into our bones and moves into our spirits. I know we all experience fear. I know that we all have varying levels in which this unwanted emotion encompasses us. I get that some of us handle the f-word differently too. Some of us hide it. Some capsize into it. Some ignore it. Some squash it. But fear? It always find its way in.
Mediocrity is one way we all disguise fear. At least that's an idea I've been tossing around as of late. Many of us normalize hurt and smooth over scared just to numb ourselves to the reality that fear lives. That it breathes within us. The pangs and the "ouch" are too piercing to face. We over-generalize. We make excuses. We believe in the lesser of ourselves. For sanity's sake just as much as safety's.
Losing a loved one or experiencing a highly traumatic event is not really the kind of fear I am speaking of here. It's more the day-to-day variety. It's that kind of scared that turns from days into years and leaves us looking back unsatisfied with so much, and yet so generalized by that easy little phrase, "That's life."
I always know when I am actively making the choice to face those fears. Physically, I can feel what's happening in my mind. The overhauling of my heart. The churning of my spirit. It's work. My body has outward ways it shows the inward goings-ons. My gut swells. My hands shake erratically & at random times for no apparent reason. My body feels drug through and rung out. I want to sleep. I want to make it stop. 1 glass of wine in the evening can quickly turn into 3. Things around me feel heavy. The daily tasks. Dishes. Dinner. Laundry. General hygiene even. It all gets done and cleaned and completed, but the thickness of it all is so very tactile. I feel the fear moving around in me. Looking for ways to contaminate me more as I work to exterminate its inward existence.
God works. He is Meghan-fool proof. For this I can fully advertise. But I need to be honest here. I need not to gloss over the way that fear operates in the face of my savior. My prayers and my leaning on Him do not erase this wretched emotion. I am human. And I need people to know that the way God and I work, our relationship, is not TV screen or movie made. I trust in Him. But I tangle in myself. In my weaknesses. I cling to them far more than I do Him if you want truth. It is a process I am altering a little more each day. He is not instantaneous in my person. He is constant. Constantly reminding me that I am not alone. That's it.
But it's the big picture I am never meant to fully see this side of heaven. It's the people He gives me. The words I read. The help I offer to others & others to me. The timing of it all. These daily heart transactions increase my handle on fear. It is here where I gain courage and feel His holy plan. Feeling is how I trust I can do the work.
Feelings are tricky. And they are so very vulnerable. They leave you wondering just who might be looking into the inside of you. Stifling fear is when the demons rage most. That outward portrayal of perfect roars. At least in me it does. It's maddening. And it's not His. It's the caged life called fear.
I'm in a fear fighting season. My hands are shaking a bit more. My wine intake is in check. Facing it. That's what I am doing. Staring into the uncertainty of what I can still be this side of heaven. It's work. And I am moving more into how beautiful feels on the inside. I love that He can do all of this in me. Not glossy glamorous and easy-done, but honestly happening. Meghan-fool proof & fully advertised.