One of love’s greatest enemies is fear. Fear prohibits us from choosing because it paralyzes us. It forecasts every possibility for the future all at once, overwhelming us with anxiety. As if that weren’t enough, it changes forms, methods, and appearance, making it difficult to identify.
Fear is something I’ve dealt with heavily in recent years. It has been a journey of discovery, facing hard truths, trekking through discomfort, and choosing differently - choosing love. Despite my efforts to understand fear, I often question myself (self-doubt is one of fear’s favorite disguises), worrying that I have been blind or have misunderstood something. Recently, I have been showered with revelation, and while my faith grows exponentially, self-doubt continues to take up space in my mind.
Graced with fellowship with a dear friend this evening, we embarked on a healing prayer of sorts. As we began, I silently asked God to speak to me through my children, who were playing in a neighboring room with my friend’s daughter. Within seconds, my youngest daughter shouted, “School’s over!” She marched into our family room on her way upstairs, giggling profusely. Holding a children’s dictionary of ours, she called my name, saying she had something to show me. I opened my eyes to see the page she had opened for me - a page that contained a drawing of a centipede. She erupted in laughter, telling me over and over again that it was a centipede. I sent her on her way and praised God for the two messages He delivered through her.
The end of a school day signifies that the learning for that day is finished. Students take what they have learned beyond the doors of the school building and apply it to whatever they face. My daughter’s proclamation of the end of the school day signified that my time of learning has finished and it is time to apply what I have learned.
Her prop is what brought the second message. While dictionaries contain the official meanings of words, we also relate to words in a more personal manner, attaching our own meaning to them (see Day Seventeen). Centipedes are one of the very few things in life that I fear. If I were to select an image to serve as the visual representation of fear for me, I’d most certainly choose a drawing just like the one she proudly displayed.
There is no reason for me to walk onward in self-doubt; not only do I have experiential knowledge of what fear is for me personally, I, too, have a Book that offers a clear understanding of what it is. The time has come for the application of my learning, for the removal of fear to create space for more love.