The Fear Block

For several weeks, I seem to have had a really bad case of writer's block. Not that there wasn't anything to write about because there has been.

My block comes from fear. Not fear of writing, not fear of putting something out there for a few to read—rather fear of acknowledging the thing that has made my hands shake and caused me not to breath deeply for the past several weeks.

Just plain, simple fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of what's ahead, fear of how everything is going to be taken care of.

Most of the time I deal with fear by shoring up my strength and steeling myself for whatever may come. Foolishly, I think that I can be strong enough. I don't cry, I don't generally fret, and, even though my bent is to think through every single possible worst case scenario (and have a plan for each), I really don't dwell on the what-if's. Because, you see, I've already thought through all the possible outcomes so I know what I will do. The workings of my warped mind—scary, I know!

We have some things facing us over the next few weeks. Jeff has to have some tests run—absolutely nothing major. My parents are both having minor surgeries that will require some recuperation time. Nanny is still recuperating from her heart surgery and has some good and some bad days.

Jeff's testing has me rattled, honestly. Again, not because of anything major but because it is him. I don't realize sometime just how much of an anchor he is for me. The thought of something, however minor, being wrong with him scares me.

I guess I've just reached the point in all of this of just simply needing to know. The tests need to be over and answers given because the not knowing seems to be the hardest.

Anyone who has family far away knows the next source of anxiety all too well. The feeling of being torn. God placed us in this town, blessed us with a full life, commitments, responsibilities but my family is six hours away.

I struggle with the best way to honor and support my parents. How do I keep them involved in Gracen's life—and her in theirs? How do I practically help them? How do I show them that my heart's desire is to be the daughter they need and the wife and mother they raised me to be?

Sometimes, the fear of not knowing, the fear of not handling something well can prevent me from doing anything at all. Fear is like that, I guess. And, all of my wanting and trying to do it all well isn't enough. The more I want and the more I try, the more immobile I feel.

Honestly, I don't have any answers. I just know that this place isn't where I want to be.

But, for whatever reason, it is where I am.

I don't particularly like the place I'm in right now. I haven't gleaned any monumental truths (yet). I feel alone. But, I have learned not to rely on my feelings during these times. I may feel alone. I may feel rather dark. I may feel fearful.

That isn't truth.

Truth--real, solid, abiding truth--casts a light, albeit sometimes a small one, into the dark and the lonely.

That's what I'm trusting.