I used to believe in the impossible. I’m not talking about as a kid either. I’m talking about in my 20s. I believed that anything could happen. I expected to look odds in the face and outright defy them.
As I glanced at tagged photo on Facebook, I smiled. I fondly remembered that girl. The girl in that picture could do anything. She could be anyone.
Yet, somewhere along the way I got scared. I blame 2017 for the final nail in the coffin. To say 2017 was rough is a gross underestimation. It started out tough and ended disastrously. I will use the word nightmarish. Yes, nightmarish will work just fine.
At the end of 2016, I gained a son who refused to accept, and consequently, constantly bucked our system of peace and harmony. He created his own rules and ignored ours, turning my entire household and center of balance upside down. Until one day, he finally stopped. He finally began to adjust, and we were fine…and then my sister came and took him…the day we were supposed to get custody.
She changed her mind, and just like that, they were both gone. As much as I hate to admit it, things quickly returned to normal after almost a year of adjusting to him. My house was actually much more peaceful without him, and I thought to myself, “Finally I can enjoy the rest of my year.”
That was until I walked outside, and my car was not where we parked it the day before. This caused a spike in my blood pressure leading to subsequent doctor’s visits. The police found my car a few days later but no associated thief, and, again, I thought the worst of 2017 was behind me.
A few days after, my phone rang. My sister had been murdered, and the police could not locate my son…the same son that turned my household upside down…the same son without which “life was much more peaceful…” the same sister I had not yet forgiven completely for taking our son back to live with her…
We found my son. We brought him home, and he had completely changed. As though God gently whispered in his ear, “It’s time to settle down.”
Or maybe I had completely changed. I have no idea what it’s like to lose the woman who loves you more than anyone else in the world…to wake up on day and life has snatched her away.
I do, however, know how it is to be a mom. If anything happens to me…I need whoever cares for my son…to love him as much as I do…to treat him the way they treat their own children…
Before the dust could settle, the thieves came back for the car. I watched through the window as they drove off with my car because somewhere along the way they stole the valet key.
My husband chased them down. We recovered the car and changed the locks. Yet somehow, we lost another set of keys…and for weeks I worried that someone would walk into our house…or maybe we would wake up to two missing cars…or worse.
…My final words to 2017 were “good riddance.” Sayonara! Adios! I will not be seeing you soon! I will not miss you. I will not look back with warm regards. I am out. Buy bye! Don’t come back.
I am a-ok with ordinary…
I thought I was fine. Here we are, months later, no tragedies…just peaceful, regular life.
Then I noticed that I jump and run to the window every time I hear a loud noise outside because a loud noise is what made me look out the window and watch the thieves drive off with my car. I am constantly ready for phone phone calls or meetings with devastating news. I stopped singing, “Lord, I’m available to you.” My prayers no longer say, “I’m ready for whatever you have, God. Bring it on!”
I am PETRIFIED! I am not sure I can do 2017 again. I need no repeats. I need no encores.
I can hear God calling as I ignore Him in the distance, “Brittany, I have so much more for you to do. You have odds to defy. You can do anything. You have mountains to move.”
Still I ignore. Still I pretend He is not talking to me…because I cannot go there anymore. I cannot go back to that place. It’s dark there. People die there. I’ll pass.
I am OK with ordinary.
“Fine,” He states matter-of-factly as though the conversation is over. Then He takes a seat right next to where I am currently sitting.
I look over in disgust and ask sarcastically, “Why exactly are you sitting so close?”
He smiles and says, “Because you called me. I’ll wait. I’ve got all the time in the world. As long as you will have me, I will be here. Do not be afraid…(Lamentations 3:57)
“I have big plans for us Brittany, but you tote around all these layers, and right now we are flushing out fear. I will send friends. I will send family. I will send pastors and preachers and bloggers and strangers and kids…
“And soon enough you will send fear packing the same way you sent out 2017 with a ‘good riddance’ and with a ‘don’t come back’…
“But until then I will wait and I will work. We will overcome this thing. We will overcome this thing together. You just sit back and relax. You let me do the fighting.”
Then He handed me this picture of this girl who was fearless as a reminder of who I was and who I will be again.
I watched as He began to clean out the corners, to rearrange, and to de-clutter. This time it was my turn to smile.
“The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.”
What are some ways that you flush out fear?
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