Fear Can Go To Hell

My husband, John-Michael, and I grew up in Converse, TX.  From what I hear, the school isn't what it used to be, and that makes me a little sad.  I was proud of my school.  We were football champs, we had a million kids, and it was just fun to be a Rocket.  Now, I'm sure many of my classmates won't agree, but I miss it.  I had a lot of fun.  Friday night lights, the band, the cheers, performances, and the hot chocolate on those cold nights.  I was in the colorguard with the band (yes, the band, and I'm proud of it!) my freshman and sophomore years, and in the dance team my junior and senior years.  I don't think I missed a single football game.  Something I have regretted is not ever making it back for a football game.  I know I still can, but it won't be the same now.  The school has since been torn down and rebuilt.  The stadium has been "upgraded."  The school is no longer divided into the "red campus" and the "grey campus."  They have since built another high school and dubbed the "grey campus" as a middle school.  It is completely different- I'd rather reminisce what used to be.  I miss being in high school.  I had an innocent perspective on life.  

Fear has somewhat taken over my life since Jaxon died.  I felt like I was in control in high school.  And even in the years leading up to Jaxon's death, I was naive to the possibility that anything bad could happen to me.  I would hear and say, God is in control, but I don't think I ever really stopped to think about what that meant.  I was regurgitating my mother's faith.  The week leading up to November 13 has replayed over and over and over again.  These memories take my sleep, take my energy, take my common sense, they take my life.  

I read Angie Smith's blog about 2 weeks ago, maybe 3 weeks ago.  This woman can write!!! Anyway, she began to open up a whole new world of healing with her words.  So, my mom recently mailed me two of Angie's books- I Will Carry You and What Women Fear (that she just happened to buy a few years ago and hadn't even read them yet, not a coincidence).  If you don't know Angie Smith, let me start by telling you that she lost her child too.  Her story is a bit different from mine, but none the less, she lost her child.  Her baby girl Audrey was developing in a way that made her non-compatible with life.  They never diagnosed her with the condition, but I believe it was somewhat like Trisomy.  

So I started reading from her book What Women Fear.  I skipped around to read the chapters I felt would apply to me and some of these words started screaming at me!  I realize, she has the same fears.  These are real, these don't make me crazy.  These are common fears.  We often don't realize how common our fearful thoughts are because we don't share them with each other.    

I realize, I am in a position here to tell my story.  To share what is happening to me, because of what happened to me.  I am called to "use my pain as my platform."  Suffering happens to everyone, and the healing begins when we share. This has come up several times in the past week.  I have been presented with opportunities to share my testimony.  And then yesterday, that guy on the radio- Share.  And today while reading Angie's book, What Women Fear- 

"God will still be God if you stay in the boat.  

But He won't be your God unless you get out."  

I hear you God.  I get it.

God is telling me to share, and I am terrified. 

I have recognized something this past week- My thoughts.  

You won't be able to get a word out. 

Even if you write down what you want to say, you will choke up on the first word. 

They'll all be staring at you.

Nobody wants to hear about your pain.  What a downer!

You'll be shaking so bad, you won't even be able to read the words! 

Your adrenaline is your worst enemy, you can't control that.

I've said before, I have the tendency to be negative and judgmental.  I think these qualities come from an insecurity that I've never dealt with before.  I'm always trying to get people to like me, and then I lose myself.  Ugh… vicious cycle that never ends up pretty.  It is straight up insecurity, and I believe it's because I've listened to these thoughts over and over and over.  Eventually you begin to believe them, right? Anyway, by recognizing these thoughts, I've also recognized where they come from.  The devil.  Period.  End of story.  These are thoughts that the devil is putting into my head because he doesn't want me to share.  He doesn't want this story to get out, because his plan to break me didn't work.  In our weakness, we can either run and hide under the covers, or we can turn to God and receive the strength to fight back.  The devil can go to hell.