FEAR IS THE STUFF OF AN UNDER ~ ACTIVE IMAGINATION

i said that. i did. just the other day. and i still believe it,  48 hours later.

fear is an easy ” go-to ” in my mind. i dont like it, but it still is.

we tend to  think that lying and stealing and smoking and not voting well are the things that break God’s heart…but i wonder if the thing that breaks His heart the most, is that we live in fear.  after all the many days of kindness.

 i struggle. true confessions here. i’ve recently experienced yet another moto tumble ( to call it an accident would infer there was another vehicle ) there was not. But dang, i tried to avoid hitting a very undecided pedestrian  and we swerved, hit her anyway we tumbled to the pavement. The woman was unscathed, thank God ! She walked away without a limp.  I on the other hand was scraped off the pavement with a slightly twisted knee and a fractured rib.  ( i might be a bit of a drama queen here ) 

so. motos are how we get around.  i love them. i love that i am 51 years old and have my own little yellow bike, complete with donkey bags, that gets me from home to Jubilee and back again day after day. i love that motos can go places trucks can not. I love that  motos are great on gas ( fuel prices here are out of this world ! )  i love that i can carry what i need, stuffed in and tied on to my trusted yellow steed. 

But dang. Now. After this last tumble. i am afraid. all the time. Even though technically i am banned from driving until my ribs are healed, even riding with others is terrifiying. i ‘m even afraid i’ll give myself a heart attack from being afraid ! IT’s like once i have hit the pavement, it is super easy to imagine hitting the pavement again in every sharp turn, every bit of loose gravel, every close call…just too easy to let my imagination have it’s way.  Yesterday Amos was giving me a ride and about half way there he said ” mama kati”  i said “yes?” he said., ” you can trust your driver” i said, ” i know” . think he could feel my terror or something ? geez.

my under ~ active imagination. 

but the moto fear is pretty small in the grand scheme of things. it is over as soon as i get my feet back on the ground. and it will diminish with time. ( i’ve had some experience )

i think the big” insulting to God” fear is the fear of the future. 

we had a great terrible thing happen several months ago. we got a call from the states telling us our bank account was empty. actually it even curved under a little. and we had the great terrible moment of thinking…What does that mean for us?  Are we goig to die now?  Because certain paths of thinking could lead one to that conclusion.

FEAR was banging on the gate calling out, OPEN UP !  I’m HERE !   I’M READY to MOVE In with YOU!  I brought my bags !  Yes !  I can stay as long as you want!”  ( such a sympathetic kind voice he has in moments like this ) He even brought his best friends:  Anger, Depression, Hatred and Accusation.  They were all out there hanging out in their low slung jeans, just waiting for us to crack open the gate and invite them in. 

Fortunately for us PEACE had gotten there earlier and we were already on our second cup of coffee together. PEACE  is a real party girl. She likes to be the center of attention.  She will take you on a trip down memory lane you will never forget!  She remembers the smallest kind words and moments of provision. If you give her time she will have you laughing and crying like a drunk man… remembering how Good God is . 

She has no shame.  She doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor, clothed or naked. She’ll wrap her arm around your shoulders and tell you story after story until you’re both ready to dance.  I find her to be a true friend. Not just showing up on good days, or on the bad.  She’ll show up every morning for coffee if i invite her.  She says the most outrageous things: “so you’re poor ? THAT’s GREAT !  THE POOR ENTER THE KINGDOM!   You’re so blessed!  Come on in! ” Crazy talk like that !  

So fear gets in when i am lazy, when i don’t take coffee that morning with Peace. When i answer the banging and let my imagination hang out outside the gate and talk with those bad boys and their small petty talk.