My Fears, My Fight

Two things I don't do well are change and uncertainty. I'm scared to death of both. Uncertainty keeps me up at night, wildly wondering the next course of events, turning scenario after scenario over in my brain as I attempt to will the unpredictable path in my favor through feats of logical strength to no one listening at all. Uncertainty leads to change. When I've got a good thing going, I view change not in what possibilities of unseen joy may exist, but in what I currently see that I know will be a loss. I don't gamble well or often, with blackjack or my life, because of my abhorrence of external events beyond my control.

I face both uncertainty and change and all that goes with them in the next few weeks.

I entered this challenge with my requisite hand-wringing and anxiety-laden diatribes. I continue to foster some of that, but I find myself at a certain sense of peace this week. While sitting in church on Sunday, I strung together a list of succeeding ideas that brought with it a sense of settling. I wrote them down one by one, just like they came to me:

1. I will be just fine. Whatever happens, I'll be fine.
2. I might be better off. I might not.
3. Regardless, God is still God. I am not and never have been.
4. I will rest in that fact, pain or no pain, comfort or no comfort. 
5. My goals, my approach, is what I have control over. 
6. I must submit and serve. Teach and connect.
7. Whenever, wherever, however.

And that's where I'm at. That's where I can stand today, uncertainty and change be damned. This is not apathy or inaction. There is fight in me, and I will battle for what I believe to be right and good. This is how I fight wisely and well.

I still wake up from time to time, frustrated, disbelieving, self-pitying. I still wish I had control.

But I know that I will be fine. Whenever, wherever, however, and everything in between.