The feeling is familiar. It creeps up through my lungs, grips my heart, distorts my thoughts and I start to feel myself retreat in fear.
Retreat from what I know is true, retreat from the ones I love, retreat from my purpose, hide under the covers.
The feeling is fear. Unfortunately it is too familiar. It almost feels like a part of me, like truth, like who I am.
I suspect I picked it up as a little girl, even as a babe in the womb.
Most of us have been touched by this force.
It weaves itself around our breath, like a snake, whispering half truths, magnifying giants, twisting our thoughts, trying to sink it’s poison into our lungs taking way our very breath and life.
Some of us are more vulnerable to it than others.
Some of us haven’t been trained to recognize and resist it’s slithery lies.
I was one of the vulnerable ones. Until recently, until now.
Now it is different. There is this other force inside of me that hates this snake.
The snake still slithers. The snake continues his attempts of disguising his poison as truth. My flesh still wants to retreat under its power. To run. To hide.
But I know too much now. Truth has woven its way through the fabric of my being like beautiful colorful stitches, holding me together, not pulling me apart.
And this truth, these beautiful stitches, stand strong against the lies. The truth whispers; “Fear Not”, “Stand Up”, “Rise and Shine”, “Be Not Afraid”, “Keep Walking”.
I am no longer one of the fearful ones anymore. I cannot yield to it’s lies.
I am a brave heart.
Descended from the bravest one of all.
His nature resides on the inside of me, and I must stand.
Stand against fear, stand against the lies that slither around my heart and mind, stand against the parts of me that want to run, want to hide, want to retreat. I am not that person anymore.
I begin to stand up in all that I know is true. I feel the crown rest on my head as I stand. Courage is the countenance of the kingdom. It fits us well.
It lifts us up rather than pushes us down. Draws us out rather than poke us in.
I begin to peel off the snake. Strip off it’s slithery grip.
I remember my cloak of courage. And I put it on. You have to stand up to put on this garment. It is not a garment to be worn sitting down. It fits me perfect. I feel like myself again. Not my old self, but my really old self, created in the heavenly realm before the foundations of the world. A new nature, but a really old nature. A brave one, a bold one, created with courage for the brave new world we live in.
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