I’ve got this fear/anxiety/panic thing going on that I am unaccustomed to and that I, frankly, find annoying. I had a good long chat with my friend Callie about it today and she told me she had heard a prophecy recently that America would be struck with a spirit of panic; she’s been experiencing a similar thing and wonder if it’s a corporate attack on the church. Another theory came from a friend of mine a few months ago, when this whole thing started. She’s a couple of years older than me and said she went through a similar phase when she hit 25: a sudden realization of her mortality.
I am the girl who backpacked around Europe with no hotels booked. I hopped on and off trains on a whim, dragging my friend Amanda reluctantly behind. I suggested we sleep in the park to save money(we didn’t. Amanda said this sounded like a good way to get murdered.) . I jumped on a plane to South Africa – to Johannesburg, the city with the highest crime rate in the world – without a second thought. I spent the night in a dodgy hotel outside of DC with my friend Kate cause we decided it might be fun to go to DC one night.
What has happened to that girl? The brave one. The one I used to be. Lately, on the plane, I am sure we will crash. I have moments of severe panic on the Interstate when it’s raining and I can’t see the dotted lines. I am terrified when I’m home alone and I hear a strange noise.
God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
I think I worry now, because Simon isn’t here. I am desperate to see him again. We have so much to look forward to, and that scares me. When things are good, I am convinced they will go bad.
I remember when I first met Simon. I was falling in love with this amazing man who made me laugh so hard and thought I was beautiful. I showed myself one night during a fight when I went completely ballistic and cried and hit him in the chest – one month into our budding relationship and he saw me at my worst. I left his house convinced I had ruined everything. The next day, he came to see me, all forlorn and sweet, making sure I was okay, checking on me, still loving me. That was my first glimpse of a man being what a man should be to a woman – a man being like Jesus.
I came back to America that Christmas, and I met my friend Danny for dinner. I told him about Simon – that I thought I had met the man I was going to marry. And then I told him how afraid I was that something was going to happen. That either a) God was not going to let me marry Simon, or b) God would allow me to marry him, but Simon would die young.
Are you laughing? I don’t blame you. Danny laughed. And then he said that I was believing false things about God. That I needed to believe that God gives good things. He loves me, and I can’t explain all the bad that happens in the world to people that love Him, I don’t know what to do with all of that. But I’m trying to figure it out, and I need you to pray for me.
I want to be that brave girl and not this scaredy-cat. I’ve just got too much living to do to be afraid of the dark.