No More Fear

I was praying on the way in to work this morning and through a chain of related thoughts and conversations, I wound up thinking about fear.  Not the fear that we read about in the Bible in regard to God, but fear in regard to being afraid of things.  In particular, I was thinking about my tendency to avoid confrontation.  Often times, out of fear I will refrain from voicing my opinion or even sharing information out of fear that the person that I am talking to may not agree or may see me different.  Fortunately, there is one (outside of immediate family) I can tell everything to without fear of them seeing me different.  (2 counting Jesus Christ :-))  I won't say who the one is out of consideration.

Anyway, in regard to fear.  Scripture says that God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind.  In my regard, I fear very little.  I rarely am of afraid of physical harm, and have even recognized an authority that God has given us in regard to the things in the earth.  God has given us the authority, why not use it.  So if a bird flies in the house, instead of panicking I simply tell it to fly back out.  God has shown Himself in this regard on enough occasions that I don't even question it.

Financially, God has made certain promises that are tied to giving.  I follow/believe what He says and He has shown himself in this regard as well, so I am not fearful in the amount of money that I do or don't have.

The one thing that continues to make me fearful is attached to another issue that I have been dealing with, pride.  Because of how I want people to see me, I often times will refrain from saying things or from voicing my opinion or desires.  I don't want to provoke confrontation so I often attempt to avoid it by being silent.  While I fully believe there are sometimes when you need to be quiet, I have found there are other times that silence has proven to work against me.

My commitment to God and myself today was to not let fear control what I say and or do.  He says He didn't give that spirit to me, so if I have it to any degree, it must have come from somewhere else.  Simply unacceptable!      

Eggs In MY Basket

I have a habit of following the proverbial cliché of "putting all of my eggs in one basket."  In some areas, I don't believe in taking precautions, I do the research, I put the time in to ensure that indeed want what I think I want.  Once I make the determination, I'm "all in".  I don't hold back.  I load the basket with the eggs and I stand guard over them with an intensity that is rarely rivaled.

Unfortunately, from time to time something comes along that is beyond the scope of my control and the eggs that I have cared for and watched over get destroyed.  No matter how much I try, their destruction persists and I seemingly stand idly by, unable to do anything to stop the destruction.  As the last egg is destroyed, the rage of frustration grows out of control and I find myself smashing the basket, convinced that I will never again have need of that or any basket.  I convince myself that I don't need a basket, because there will be no more eggs.  

With each occurrence this attitude persists and the mindset becomes more and more set.  After a while the thought of eggs or a basket is out of sight, out of mind and I settle into a life that exists without baskets, without eggs.  

At some point, when I wasn't paying attention, something comes along and with patience and compassion; it teaches me anew how to weave a basket.  It takes the time, to reinforce the value of just the basket.  It doesn't rush, it doesn't push, it just continues to teach and reaffirm.  After a while, I take a step back and look at the basket that I have seemingly effortlessly created and I marvel at what it has become.  Before I know it, I find myself carefully placing eggs in the basket, and once again I mount up my forces to stand watch over this basket and its precious contents.  

As I watch this basket, it starts to look like the basket and eggs that I used to have and all at once the feelings and frustrations of those previous experiences rush back and rage once again builds.  As I raise my fists to smash the basket and its contents, convinced that it is the same basket, same eggs as before, that thing that helped build the basket appears with what may appear to be insignificant, but at the given time ultimately is exactly what is needed.  It shows up and diminishes the frustration at a rate greater than it built. At once I realize that the new basket and eggs are not at all like the previous ones, and I realize that as powerful as my mind is, there is a force far greater that can cause me to see truth when deception threatens to consume.  

As all around me returns to its peaceful state, I take a closer look at the basket and recognize for the first time, that there are more than just my eggs in the basket.  There are an equal number of eggs that are clearly not mine.  In my bewilderment I pull back and am startled to find another striking revelation.  My hand isn't the only hand on the handle of the basket.  There is another hand helping me carry the basket.  The hand looks familiar and with a start I identify it as the hand that helped teach me how to make this latest basket.  

For the first time, I realize that this new basket isn't just my basket.  It is a basket that is shared.  It isn't just me standing watch over the contents; there is another that with equal intensity stands watch with me.  The basket isn't just mine, I see now that what makes this basket different is that it is ours.