THERE I’d be sitting, delivering a safety and environment induction for a group of contractors, usually men, and I’d be struck with what I didn’t want to see: the flash in a moment, a reminder, that my future wasn’t turning out as I’d have hoped. That sense of a shattered hope in the moment — a future forlorn — meant the world to me. That shattered hope was as simple as feeling I’d be single for the rest of my life. There was no scarier thought at the time.
Today there are a plethora of scarier thoughts — the loss of my wife, a child, etc.
Notwithstanding the fact that there are often bigger things to worry about, the concern over my singleness was probably the biggest crisis of my life. How little did I trust God! But God knew what I needed and he ultimately provided; I started courting my soulmate three years to the day my old life ended. Three years of begrudged though fruitful singleness. About the time I was ready to accept being a single was about the time God brought my wife-to-be to me.
Still, I will never forget the extent to the anxiousness I’d feel because of the scare of having my hopes permanently dashed against the rocks of my identity.
Through every scare we need a faith big enough to build us over the top of the scare.
Our faith only needs to be just big enough. It doesn’t need to be ten foot taller.
Having the faith to overcome the anxiousness of a hope appearing forlorn is not about not feeling the pain. Anxiousness will cause pain. There’s no hoping it won’t.
Every scare has a realness about it that tops us at the top of our game.
When anxiety takes its true toll, we are not so much dissuaded as we are that we missed the alarm bells.
We didn’t anticipate the pivot point that took us on the journey we are now on. It took us very clearly by surprise. And life should never be a surprise.
But, the trouble is, life is very often a big and scary surprise.
If we are to get ourselves out of our own way, then a retreat of some kind is good.
As soon as we have been solely founded on such a premise, we are ready to take our admission on something more worthwhile.
© 2015 Steve Wickham.