Of My Fear

This weekend was one of the highlights of my year. I spent a weekend gathered with like-minded women from across the state as we worshipped the Creator of the universe and absorbed powerful teaching meant to move us to action as true women of the Word.

It did not disappoint.

But as the final session wrapped up, I had to be honest with myself about my discomfort regarding one of our keynote speakers. This woman was on fire. And I could not quite put my finger on it, but such was her confidence and passion and boldness in declaring the Word of God as it had been spoken and revealed to her that it simply made me uncomfortable.

Truthfully, a portion of these feelings could have stemmed from my Southern Baptist roots (okay, so my parents always insisted we were not, in fact, Baptist - simply that when it came time to look for a church, these were always the ones they preferred, but label or no, I grew up in a myriad of Baptist churches and received my higher education at a Baptist school, so those roots are very clearly intact), in the face of a woman who was very comfortable preaching in-your-face truth with some charismatic flare. And there's a part of me that says, "Simmer down, woman." And there's a part of me that feels if someone is declaring their teaching with such audacity, I need to be sure to check this teaching with the truth of the Word as I know it. And this is absolutely true.

But more of my discomfort comes from the fact that I have never been so sure about the Word of God that I could stand in front of hundreds of women, without any fear or shadow of doubt, to declare what I know to be true.

And I heard the Lord ask me, "What are you afraid of?"

And if I'm going to be 100% honest with myself (and now with you, which is scary), the answer would be . . .

I'm scared of being wrong.

In this culture of moralistic relativity and political correctness, I'm afraid to cross a line and, more terrifying, I'm afraid to draw that line in the sand. The line that says THIS IS RIGHT. And in so saying, conclude something else to be wrong.

Because it's not okay to say that in our culture.

And I want to be friends.

I don't want hateful words from the other side of the computer screen (or most certainly not in my face). I don't want to be accused - accused of closed-mindedness, bigotry, arrogance and so many other descriptives I don't want applied to me.

And when I was confronted with this honest truth about my soul and what I'm willing to boldly declare, I was boldly told by my Creator,

"If you fear my Truth, I have no business with you.

I have no business with the one who puts her hand to the plow and looks back."

I have been singing about walking upon the water, where oceans rise. When what I have been doing is wading ankle deep - staying close enough to the shore to jump out if I need and where I certainly won't encounter any sharks.

And I have been called out into the waves, into a Truth and a God that overwhelms. And I've been afraid of drowning.

And He has no business with that kind of follower.

He has no business with one who fears the Truth. And, worse yet, should I continue to deny Him before men, He has declared that He will deny me.

So, watch out. Because the gloves are coming off. And the Sword is coming out.

There is a battle being waged. And I have chosen my side.

I will be silent no longer.

Of Giving Up Fear

I always feared the idea that having three children would leave Philip and I outnumbered.  It's no longer, "You grab that one, I'll get this one."  Instead, it's most often, "You take the older ones, I'll get the little guy."

What I have realized this week, though, as severe weather has threatened parts of our state, and we have been warned of a higher-than-normal rate of these storms coming this season, is that on top of our being outnumbered, I, when I am alone, no longer have enough hands for each child.  So when it comes down to it, if we are forced out to the storm shelter in the face of a looming tornado, in the middle of the day with no husband to help, I will have the sole responsibility of getting three scared little ones to safety while only being able to hold onto two, at most.  

Yes, the fear can be a little overwhelming at times (especially considering how dominant the terror of these storms was for me even before children entered the picture).  These are the times when I must remember I have been called to a life without fear in the midst of my circumstances - at least not a fear of the unknown.  Because, though I don't know the future, I belong to the One who does.  Which means, even if the outcome isn't as I desired it, I can always trust in His goodness.  Thus, I have no need to fear the future.

Therefore, this season, rather than biting my nails at every overcast sky or becoming frozen at every discussion of tornadoes on the news, I will trust.  

1,000 Gifts (inspired by the lists here and here): 

231. Opening the storm shelter to get it ready for the season, while praying it won't be necessary.

232. Opening the shower door for a morning shower - before the kids are even out of their rooms.

234. Opening my eyes at 7:34am, realizing my youngest son has still not awoken after laying down to bed at 8:30 the night before.

235. Sour gummy vitamins (made for adults!) - yes, they're mostly sugar, but they still make me happy.

236. Emmett, turning to his "diddy" for help, and her willingness to assist.  Too sweet.

237. Celebrating National Cheese Fondue Day in our own kitchen.

I failed to take my "My Life" photo for today, but no worries, I'll catch up tomorrow!  In the meantime, you can adore my little post-bath cutie.