Day Seven: What Am I Most Afraid Of?

I am scared a lot.

 I am very much a Worrier, and it doesn’t take much to set me off; remembering that one episode of X-Files I saw last month, my doctor’s bill was higher than I thought, a new medical ‘scare’ popped up (I once was concerned that the reason why I was so healthy was because I actually had some deeper, serious medical issue that caused it. Seriously. To be fair, this was around the time I was watching a LOT of those Mystery Diagnosis shows, and my imagination is nothing if not active.) The list of things that scare me go on and on, but the older I get, the less these affect me for very long.

When I was younger, in spite of all of my minor fears and concerns, I would without hesitation tell you that my biggest fear was rejection. As I got older, I realized this wasn’t quite accurate: my fear was that I would live life ignored and unloved. It consumed me, this fear. I was constantly afraid that I would find out even my family couldn’t/wouldn’t want me around, that my friends were only my friends out of pity and kindness. Movies like It’s A Wonderful Life were a nightmare; I was convinced that if I woke up as George Bailey, than either the world would remain exactly the same as it was before, or it would be better off.

Now that I am even older (the ripe old age of almost 25) I can honestly say that this no longer terrifies me. It doesn’t keep me up at night, and it no longer throws a shadow over my plans for the future. I no longer doubt my family or my friend’s care for me (I’ll sometimes doubt their sanity, but not their affection), nor do I believe that I walked through the earth, insubstantial and forgotten (I was a melodramatic youth, prone to self-indulgent and wordy pity parties.)

It no longer affects me, because I don’t believe it will happen.

Even if my family shuns me, my friends turn away, and I am left alone for the rest of my life, I will never be alone. I was, and am, loved by the Creator of this world, and He has promised to never leave me, nor forsake me. For reasons I will never be able to fathom, He loves me enough to care about my small worries and fears as much as my large ones, and has proven Himself trustworthy in all matters (even though He is the only one who has never needed to prove Himself, especially to one such as I.)

In the face of this love, how can fear have any place in my life? It shrivels up and fade away in the light of God’s mercy and peace. I’ll always have those fleeting moments of fear, but it can never root itself in my heart the way that it once did, and I trust that the closer I draw to Him, the less claim it will have in my soul.

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