Unfiltered Moment

I lent voice to thought and that was my mistake.

--Toby Ziegler, The West Wing

I'm usually better at filtering these things, but I'm deciding to forgo the filtering process in an effort to just get this out.

A few days ago, I realized that I hadn't posted a blog in a month. I had written things, but I couldn't bring myself to post them. To be honest, I didn't want to post the one about Ash Wednesday.

It happens nearly every single time I try to be bold and declare victory over this old Fear of mine. Once I think I've gotten somewhere, the Fear comes back with a new face and a new name, and reminds me once again to go back into my corner and remain silent.

I cannot describe the depth of how afraid I am. I can't explain why this one thing makes me immobile and useless. I'm different when this Fear comes my way; I am not myself. And it takes me a long while before I start to feel like myself again. Normal.

And I knew as soon as I posted that blog, the Fear would creep up and knock me down. This Sunday morning, I found out that I was not wrong. I was afraid and unable to ask for help. I had to keep going and keep pretending that it didn't bother me. But the entire time, I was shaking within, ready to burst at any given moment.

I knew some people very close to me would see that I was not myself. But would they understand? If I say it, make it real, would they know the depth of my fear? Would they be able to help? Would they be able to comfort me?

Would they believe me?

The Fear hurts me so much that all I want to do is cry.

I'm afraid because I do not feel safe. I'm angry because I finally found a people that I consider family and a place that I love and I don't want to leave it if we don't handle this external circumstance with integrity and sensitivity. I'm sad because there is pain here.

I know that I am strong. I know that everything will be all right. I know that there will always be another trial. Obstacles will always come; they are the constant, not the variable. I know how to deal with this. I understand this because I believe in a good God.

But for this moment, I want to break down and say that I can't do this. I want someone to prove me wrong and tell me that I'm worth loving, worth being protected, worth...something more than this awful way that I'm used to feeling. I want someone, even for just a moment, to absorb all of this pain for me and just take it away. I don't even want to be fixed; I just want to be comforted.

In the beginning, that's all I've ever wanted. And I've been searching for a long time. And whenever I come face to face with this Fear, I lose hope for the comfort that I seek.

I believe in a good God that loves me, but for this moment, I'm not certain that belief is enough.

But that is just for this moment. We'll see what happens in the next.