Yesterday was unexpectedly difficult. I thought it would be slightly uncomfortable at first with a sprinkle of awkwardness, however...
I walked into the Redeemer and fear struck the bells in my heart. They shivered, shook, and I broke out in a cold sweat. Panic poured into my veins, flooding my heart with doubt and fear. I wanted to fly out the doors back into the safety between the metal doors of my car. Instead I smiled nervously at the girls who handed me a packet with a kind smile. Sidled by the people around me trying my best to be invisible as I slid quietly into the sanctuary.
Cross in front of me, my knees gave way, and I dropped silently into the back corner seat, wondering what on earth possessed me to think that I would belong here. These people are brilliant, wonderful, and beautiful. I listened to the lies that were being slung into every hole in my heart and they began the work of covering the truth with their sticky explosions. Lies that tell me I'm not good enough, that no one will like me, and that I made a huge mistake in coming. These lies drain the joy from my smile, the spring from my step, the lightness in my voice and glint in my eyes.
For a short while the blinders come on and I forget what I know deep down in my bones to be true.
So I prayed, I had nothing else to do but lower my head onto the seat in front of me and I began to tentatively knock on the gates of heaven begging for grace.
Sigh. Deep breath. Exhale.
I got up and began mulling around being generally awkward and self conscious. Inwardly cringing at the way that I greeted people. Berating myself for the fear that I was feeling and wishing that I could work up the courage to just be myself. People came up and introduced themselves and I couldn't help the panic that flashed across my face for a moment, I prayed they didn't notice it and I wished I could greet them in a the way that I wanted to.
The concert was phenomenal, Eric Peters sang a song that I was sure was written just for me.
By that evening I was exhausted. Emotionally drained and ever more convinced that I am an introvert.
I collapsed in bed and questioned for the hundredth time what I was doing, when the MacDonald quote flashed through my head, "to try to be brave is to be brave," and I paused, looked up at the ceiling, closed my eyes, and filled my lungs with air.
I wanted to be brave.
Now I am not a propionate of faking it, but I also believe that there are times when our feelings follow our actions. There is a time for crying, but there is also a time to lift your chin, look at the sky and smile remembering that you are small and given much. So I determined to do just that, I would try and be brave and in the process actually be brave.
And today was wonderful.
Be brave. It's worth it.
Be brave. It's worth it.