I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
— Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, from Frank Herbert’s Dune book series
I had to admit to Heather this morning that I’m afraid.
“Afraid” may be a bit strong, in public I would probably say “nervous” or “worried” or something.
But whatever word you use, it’s driven by fear. I’m afraid.
I’m nervous or worried or fearful or whatever about the things that I wrote about on here two days ago, particularly the looming financial giants of the potential government shutdown and roof repairs.
And Heather, very calmly and honestly, stated to me that it’s going to be OK.
And she’s right.
But here’s the sad thing:
I know it’s going to be OK. I know God’s not going to give me more than I can handle. I know that I’m taken care of.
I know all that.
The part of me that is afraid doesn’t care.
Not because it doesn’t believe those things.
But because it doesn’t care.
Because that part of me knows that God will make sure I’m OK, but He’ll use His standards for what that means.
I want to be OK by my standard.
That part of me don’t want to be OK by the standard of not having to deal with more than I can handle. It wants to be OK by the standard of not having to deal with anything.
I don’t want to have to use what I have to survive this.
I want to come out of this continuing to be able to go out to eat and buy books irresponsibly. I want to buy an iPad.
I want to be that sort of OK.
That’s selfish, and self-indulgent.
And I’m afraid, because I’m afraid God isn’t going to enable those things.
That’s rather sad.
And that’s been true many times. I had that conversation over a year ago with a good friend. We have trouble trusting God because we judge His trustworthiness not based on whether He does what is best, but whether He does what we want.
Part of me really does trust. Trust that He’ll do in this what is good.
And that part of me really does have peace and rest.
Part of me on the other hand is afraid.
Afraid I don’t get to be sloppy and self-indulgent and undisciplined.
And it’s a good reminder for myself that I’m still very much a work in progress.