Courage

So, tell us a bit of your story...

What are you afraid of? Where is pride snaring you in fear?

What would you like to find the courage to do?

How might humility be the next step?

Oh, why did she have to write such a post today? After I just spent a couple of hours awake last night, coming up with reasons not to go. I just got off the phone with our college friend and he invited us all to stay with his family for one night or two--if we make it over this weekend. Why oh why, did Ann pick that topic. And why today?

God knew I would need a nudge. A confirmation. A sign.

When anxiety and fear live but a doorstep down the lane, you master the "why's" even if it is purposeful. Or unintentional.

Self-preservation takes over. It commands. It directs. It drives. It encompasses.

I am all right with walking up the dirt road or into the woods or into the pasture, but going beyond the dirt in metal on wheels, not so okay. To the pavement to the hustle and the bustle to the place where an attack can render me a pile of goo. Yikes, I would rather not. One trip to town a week for sustenance and errands. And to hold hands with God. My grip on Him is so tight. If I squeeze tighter, then perhaps that which follows me like a naughty shadow on a sunny day will just slip away.

Yes, that is it. My anxiety sometimes chases me. Sometimes it catches me and swallows me into its ugly bowels of panic and fear. Like last night, during dinner. I jumped from the table, flung open the front door, stepped barefoot onto the porch, tipped my head back, raised my arms up, a tear slid down, I cried out to Him, and I felt that bad shadow slink off into the woods. Then my son opened the squeeky screen door, "Mamma, what are you doing? Are you okay? You left the table. Mamma?"

"Oh, honey. I am okay. I just needed some air. And to talk to God," I say aloud as my heart takes the salve from the Healer. I feel the squeezing and squashing lessen. And finally diminish to a point where can see more than tunnel vision. And finally diminish to a point where I could feel feelings. And diminish to a point where I could taste my meager dinner.

Back to Ann's post, whatever is she talking about--pride snaring me in fear? What?! I am not pride-full. I gave that up when I became a Christian. I am not thinking about only me. I, I, I, oh yes. I see. He needs to come first, before the "I." Before the reasons why. Before the encompassing self-preservation route upon which I frequently trod--God knows, the one that I constantly walk, but yet it keeps me here. Safe and sound.

So, today, after already having wrestled for a couple of hours with darkness and doubt and fear, only my Heavenly Father could have timed it just perfectly for me to read Ann's post on courage. And for that to follow an inviting phone call from a friend. And for all of that to follow my husband's invitation for us to come over to see him this weekend, instead of him making the journey to us.

Oh, Lord, give me all that I need this day as I ready myself and my son for a journey along the paved places that will cross state lines and heart places. Fill me with You so that there is not room for any annoying, pesky passenger in my rattle-trap pick-up. Guide me, encourage me, calm me as I pack bags and plan routes. And protect me and my son from danger, even the ones that like to lurk in my heart. Father God, I humbly come to You this day, show me the way. Show me Your way. You will make my paths straight. I trust in You to help me pack courage, along with my clothes. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Dear Ann, if you don't mind, I will take this portion with me. There is plenty left for others to make their own. Right now, I need this...

“Just bow in humility to rise up in courage.”

His voice comes gentle, immediately, a grace caress for the angst-twisted. I exhale, a long slow release.

And this one...

Courage for the impossible can only be found in the possibility of humility because

“This is the one God esteems: he who is humble…” (Is. 66:2).

Courage lives in the heart of the lowly... those who can embrace humility and the possibility of imperfection ...

because that needy place is where God meets us.

* brown print is from Only the Lowly posted here...by Ann Voskamp

* darker print is from right here, inside my heart