Fear
I have allowed fear to rule my heart for most of my life.
I don’t mean that “most of my life” in a cliche way.
Or even in a “most of my adult life” way.
I mean
most of my life.
As in
since I was eight years old.
Around the time I was eight I developed some hyper-fear that my mother was going to die.
I became obsessed.
Obsessed.
As in
every night I crept down to my parent’s bedroom. I hovered beside my mother’s bed. And I watched her. Two sleepy eight-year-old eyes peering just over the bed covers at my resting mother.
I just stared at her.
I wanted to be sure she was still breathing.
And when I couldn’t tell from looking, which was usually the case, I would stretch out my hand to feel for her intake and out take of breath. Or I would place my head on her chest to detect movement.
(That’s usually when she woke up.)
Uh, my mom says I had this same routine down to a science. And not only would I watch her breathe, I would be too scared to leave her side during the night.
So she eventually caved and put a sleeping bag under her bed and on nights when I was watching her breathe she just pointed to the floor and went back to bed.
It probably wasn’t every night
but it was more nights than not in any given week.
Gosh – I bet that was freaky. And annoying.
Probably more annoying than you think.
Because I didn’t just do this for two nights.
Or for two weeks.
I slipped downstairs and watched my mother breathe
for four years.
Yeah.
I should be humiliated.
But I’m really not.
Because I was eight.
And when I was eight I didn’t know that leg warmers that matched your sweater were dorky or that moon boots were never cool or that kids really weren’t allowed to be international spies. And I didn’t know it was weird to be deeply afraid that your mother might die while she slept.
What I am humiliated about, however,
is the fact that I have continued to let fear win.
For
a
very
long
time.
I have been ruled by fear. Dominated by fear. A victim to fear.
The bumper sticker on the back of my car (and I choose those things very carefully) that states Love Wins should more accurately state Fear Wins.
Because it has.
But I want to be done with fear.
I don’t want it to be my boss any more.
Nearly thirty years.
A life dictated by fear.
That isn’t victorious.
That isn’t abundant.
That isn’t ordained.
That’s ridiculous.
And empty.
And hollow.
And all fear does
is rob me
of so much else.
Fear points to something,
to someone
that I don’t want to point to.
And I don’t want fear to be my master anymore.
I’m tired of living
as
fear’s
slave.
9 Comments
Stacy Finnigan
Oh Lacey. I want to hug you so badly right now.
This is EXACTLY my struggle, and I'm in the process of healing right now. We are sisters in our recovery from fear.
I remember when cell phones first came out and there was all that hype about them putting off radiation and causing harm to hearts and brains. I distinctly remember one instance in which my mom was talking on her cell phone. I got as close as possible to her and stood on my tip-toes, so that whatever happened to her would happen to me as well. I was so afraid. And that has lasted for a long time. It was part of that letter that I wrote to her.
I love you. We must at some point have more than a passing conversation.
laceykeigley
Stacy.
I love you too.
And although I wish you did not struggle with this same issue – I am glad to be your sister in the battle.
And be encouraged my friend – you are choosing to fight at a much better and younger age than I even became aware of the war.
And please – let’s have those real conversations.
We can begin with e-mails and phones right now, but this summer we will schedule real time.
I look forward to it.
nikkie
praying.
laceykeigley
Thank you!
Julie
I am with you. Completely. Only my fears have changed from my mother to my children, my husband…
The worst part is that I see the same fear in one of my children. I so don't want that for him. I want him to be brave and courageous. I want him to be a conqueror. I want him to feel confidence in his Warrior King. What a challenge to me to be modeling that for him. Thanks for the reminder.
laceykeigley
It’s easy to just place our fears on our new desires, isn’t it? And to even justify those fears since they are for the people we love.
But it still is the same sin – isn’t it?
And the same struggle.
Thanks for understanding.
Katie Carter
I can completely relate…
Shelley in SC
Yes, this is my story as well. Fear can be a bondage of epic proportions. Thank God one of His names is "Deliverer'! (ps. 34:4)
laceykeigley
I like that – “epic proportions”.
And how wonderful that God can rescue us.