Years ago, when I first decided to start this blog, I called it "No fear, just laughter." I started it after finishing school and finally arriving at a place where I had no idea what the future held. And that scared me because it meant I no longer had easy control of the direction my life would take.
In high school, I knew I was headed to college next. In college, I figured out that I wanted to teach and knew I would be teaching in some capacity after graduating. After teaching in a classroom for 3 years, I knew I wanted to attend grad school and take my passion for teaching a step further. When I was finishing grad school, it suddenly hit me - I had literally no idea where I was headed next. My Master's program in England went from September to September, which meant working in a school was out because I'd be missing the first month. So what was I supposed to do?
That's when I decided that I had a choice to make. I could either succumb to my fears of the future and the lack of control that went with it, or I could focus my attention less on the future and more on the present. I chose the latter. I decided to live in the moment (as best as I could) and relish the joy that I could experience there. And that worked really well for a while. Yes, there were still times I would worry about the future (let's be honest - there were still many times I'd worry), but I chose not to allow my thoughts to linger there for too long.
Then I got pregnant. And everything changed.
While pregnant, I never admitted this out loud, but I actually tried not to get too excited during the first trimester for fear of losing the baby early. I mean, the statistics say it all: 1 in 4 women have a miscarriage within the first 3 months of pregnancy. I realized there was nothing preventing me from being that 1 woman, so although I didn't exactly suppress my hopes, I also tried not to get swept away by them. We decided not to tell anyone I was pregnant until that first trimester was over, so it wasn't that hard to do. It felt a little bit like holding my breath and just waiting...waiting to see what would happen.
When Emalyn was born, I fell in love immediately. It's so hard to describe the sheer amount of love a parent can have for their child until you experience it yourself. People told me how much my heart would explode and expand, but I didn't fully grasp that idea until I finally held her for the first time. Even though she desperately needed a bath and had a head that I feared would be permanently elongated (though I told her I'd love her anyway!), I loved her so fiercely. And that scared me quite a bit, because if anything had happened to her, I would've fallen apart.
4 days after she was born, Emalyn was admitted to the NICU to undergo phototherapy overnight for jaundice. Apparently it's a very normal thing and happens to many newborns, but we had been home for just two days before we had to head back to the hospital. I was very much still recovering and still getting used to being a new parent, and I was tired (of course) and extremely emotional because my hormones had come rushing back, and since only one parent was allowed to spend the night, I was also separated from Peter. I had sat and watched Emalyn cry for almost an hour when she was initially put into the incubator and briefly contemplated leaving her and waiting it out at home because I was terrified. But I knew she needed me, so I stayed and cried with her.
It was the worst night of my life.
Despite knowing the treatment was common, I was scared for her. And that's when it suddenly dawned on me - I didn't have control over two futures now, mine and hers. That's what scared me, not knowing what was going to happen next.
Fast forward to today. I don't like it when I'm not in control. I don't like when I'm expecting one thing to happen and I'm suddenly thrown a curveball. But more than anything, I don't like that I have absolutely zero control over Emalyn's future (she just turned 2 last week, by the way). My greatest fear is that I'm going to lose her well before her time, and I won't be able to do anything about it.
Do you know what that means?
As a Christian, it means I don't fully trust God. Because fear isn't something He instills in us.
What a wild thought.
And really, this applies to any time I'm not in control. I don't like it because I don't like the unknown. I like being in control because I'm the one person I know I can fully trust.
Apparently I have trust issues. Because if I can't even trust God, that means I only trust the people around me to a certain extent. And as awful as it is to admit it, it's true.
Peter and I were playing a funny dating game called Red Flags with some friends last week where you're trying to convince the person in the hot seat to date the character you've put together using cards. However, while you're trying to present yourself as the best choice, you're also trying to sabotage the other contenders with an unpredictable red flag. During one particular round when Peter was in the hot seat, my character's red flag was that she was a backseat driver. Peter and I turned to each other and laughed because that wasn't just something my character did - I'm a backseat driver too. I often think I'm doing it to be helpful, but I've also come to realize that I do it because I don't always trust Peter to make the right turns or to get off at the right exit. He'll occasionally make a mistake when left to his own devices, but it's not as though he makes a mistake every time I don't interfere.
I don't want to live in a state of perpetual fear. I don't want to worry about Peter making the wrong turn, especially when the worst thing that could possibly happen is that we're a little late to our destination. And I don't want to worry about Emalyn's future, as hard as that may be, because it means I won't cherish the time I have with her now.
I want to live a life full of peace. And I can't do that if I don't start trusting Him.
I mentioned in my last post that this year's affirmation is let go and let God. It's not going to be an easy year in the slightest. But if I do that, if I truly strive to let go and let God, I'll be one step closer to the peace I crave.
That's not to say I'll live a life free of suffering. I know that won't be the case. But instead of worrying every day about what the future holds, I can choose to focus on what's important in the now, on the portion that can't be taken from me.
And I can choose to trust that He'll take care of the rest.
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