Afraid (But you say)
I am afraid.
But you say, “I am with you.”
I don’t know what will happen in this “I don’t know” stage of life.
But you say, “I will walk with you in the valley.”
So many times, when you are in the very presence of man, you have to proclaim, “Fear not.” Yet, I want your very presence. More than ever. How can I bear your presence so close, and how can I not have it now. Now, in the midst of it all. Now, when I need you more than ever. The fear comes so easily. In waves. What will be? What will happen? What…? The questions, when they come, conjure the fear. I try to push it down. I am afraid. And, I am not. It is so confusing and complicated.
But you say, “Don’t worry about tomorrow. Today has enough trouble of it’s own. If I care about the flowers and birds, which are here today and gone tomorrow, how much more you are valuable to me. Don’t be afraid. I have this. I am so aware of the details. You don’t know the number of hairs on your head, but I do. I know you even better than that.”
I know. The fear is real. But you are more real.
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.