I mentioned yesterday in a blog post that I attend my very first writing workshop tonight…and that I’m nervous. I also noted that fear keeps us from our dreams, though, and I ain’t about that. From my mouth to God’s ears…
Last night, I cooked black-eyed peas and cornbread for me and my hubs, then decided to take the rest to my son’s house and surprise him with home-cooked goodness. He moved out several months ago and got a place about 15 minutes away, and he loves it, totally self sufficient. But I also know how much broke 20 year olds like mama food. So I packed it all up and hit the road.
On the way, I happened to stop fiddling with the radio long enough to merge onto the interstate and realized I had landed on a sermon about…fear!
“Fear holds you back from soaring on the wings of faith,” the pastor asserted.
“Fear and faith can hardly coexist. Having fear means one has little faith.”
“Fear and faith operate like a seesaw. When fear is up, faith is down. When faith is up, fear is down.”
He posed an interesting question…suppose you had a beloved, wealthy uncle who told you to call on him if you ever find yourself in need of absolutely anything. He was wise, trustworthy, loving, and had never let you down. Then one day, you were struggling, in need. Do you call him?
All you have to do is pick up the phone, but you start doubting. You wonder whether he was just offering to be polite or if he really would give to you freely and help you. You might put him out, burden him, with your problem. You’d be a little ashamed and worry he might question how you got yourself into such a mess. You’d feel bad about taking advantage of his generosity following your dumb decision that got you in this tizzy. So you don’t call.
BUT WHY NOT CALL? How can you get the help you so badly need, how could you otherwise feel relief by such kindness, how can you realize his word is ironclad? You have to act. You have to pick up the phone. You have to put your nonsensical thoughts and worries…your fear…aside. You have to trust. You have to have faith.
I needed to hear that. I needed the reminder that what God helps create, he sees to fruition. I needed to hear all the verses he quoted about God’s promises to heal, support,restore, whatever, if I only have faith. I needed the confidence boost that only strong faith can bring. I needed to be perched on the proper end of the seesaw, where my faith rises way up high, and I make fear plummet and booty-bump way down low.
So I’ll write. I’ll practice. I’ll man up and log in to the live workshop. I’ll post my ramblings. I’ll chase the writing dream without…to the best of my human-being ability…fear, knowing that God is that phone call away fully ready to support me or save me.
Oh, and I left the peas and cornbread along with a few other treats in a box with a “Love, Mom” note on Blake’s porch, and when he got home and found them, he called me all excited and grateful. Good stuff.
Amanda Herring, Writer 