I have this lingering fear of getting it wrong.
I also don't like to be wrong. Because, pride.
And this is one nearly impossible combination.
It's been this way for what seems like forever, but the weight of it became heavier as a girl stumbling her way through her teens in off-brands and braces and I've carried it in varying degrees ever since.
I've spent long days and nights talking to myself about this. Although, David was more poetic about it millions of hours ago:
"Why are you cast down, o my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?..." {Psalm 42:5}
When I've used these words of his to talk to the person in this skin, many of the answers that have echoed back to me have not been specific. It's mostly just been, "you're afraid. Like, all the time."
It's hard to get honest with people about that fact because the inclination tends to be to make sure others think you're alright. Whether it's for your own sake or just so that they won't come up to you with some variation of "why the long face?". Being honest about fear and fear of failing and fear that maybe we've gone down the wrong road is a deeper conversation that better lends itself to about 3am when inhibitions are lowered and the sun hasn't risen enough to shed light on our solemn faces. And everybody's afraid of something, so why make it a thing?
Right? Yes?
We've gotten good at avoiding these conversations in the daylight. There's much we can put our minds and hands to so that when others take a curious glance, they would see just enough to say "they're ok". We'll find a good angle, take a photograph, and share it on the .com. We'll take up a cause, run with it, and hide behind it too. Or maybe you'd find us filling our planners with plans for today, tomorrow, and 2 months out so that we can look at them and know we're wanted. Somewhere.
In distracting ourselves, we have momentary relief from the whirlwind in our minds that always seems to beg the question, "...but what if I'm wrong and this is all wrong and I should be there instead of here?" It's become the self-medication that we most often reach for and there's enough for every dose we require and plenty to go around.
It's also a thief, almost as much as fear is.
Distraction invades all of the space we've been given to acknowledge these questions and fears of ours. It also prevents us from taking them to others and laying them before our God, all while paving the way for unresolved pretense.
In a society where pretense reigns supreme, whether we know it or not, the desire for authenticity is inherent in us. We are most ourselves during the dinner with friends sans lipstick and hairspray, sitting on the porch steps with our spouse with a pot of coffee and no place to be, or when we're in a place safe enough to say "I am not ok and actually, scared shitless". We are most ourselves in those moments when we can forget ourselves and our manners and say aloud the things we say to our souls at 3am.
I've begun to realize that fear is not the problem. Fear has the ability to motivate us and send us running back to what we may have long-forgotten about, namely who our God is. And who He has always been for us, even while we've been headed for the hills.
The culprit is all of the ways we duck-and-cover. It's exhausting and at the end of the day, we're just left with our pride and momentary ways of dealing with what will still be there waiting for us tomorrow.
Let's save ourselves the aggravation. And then maybe have some breakfast for dinner.
