The Story of My Life: Little Much Afraid

The struggle is real, I kid you not. Today, on my morning walk (about 15 minutes before sunup), the fear was brought front and center as God was showing me glimpses of my existence during the years between little girlhood and big girlhood. Okay, fine. Adulthood...

I had asked Him why my first response is always fear. Distrust. Skepticism. Even though I thought I had relinquished my self-serving, and very self-protecting nature, to His way of seeing life, this crazy fear was deeply embedded many years ago. It's been there since early childhood and grew exponentially as I grew into adulthood. It seems to always be fueled and ready for action at the least little occurrence. It's most likely the reason I'm so jumpy and if you startle me, you should expect a blood-curdling scream that will cause the firmest skin to stretch.  

Time alone during the early morning hours has given me a breath I didn't know existed. Not only physical breath, but I would say even a bit of spiritual breath that renews me from the inside out. This morning felt like a gentle lasso had been dropped over my head and lovingly caressed my shoulders as it poured into me the assurance that I am loved. I felt important to a loving God, and suddenly remembered His promise of never leaving us or forsaking us. I've known this  since early 1974, when I gave up all rights to myself, as I wept uncontrollable in front of a large family Bible (that was never read, by-the-way). Until I became desperate. At the end of my human strength and my way of doing life, I allowed Him in. I think I've written a blog post about that day. About the way God got my attention through His written Word. Through only 2 verses. There was no searching, just flat out communication that put a finger on my situation and how to solve it, that also brought me to my knees. It would be in the archives of this very blog site. 

Truly, He's only as far away as the breath we breath. And, for me, it doesn't depend on how my attitude has been, or what opportunities I've missed, or my reclusive habits that want nothing more than to just live my own life without someone telling me what I "ought" to do, or not do. How I'm "so" whatever. Or "too" whatever. I feel so small, so easily. Insignificant, unimportant, without merit, misunderstood so often. I knew I needed answers from the One who knows the whys. Answers of how to rid myself of this lurking fear that always wants to exaggerate itself and bind my mind so I can think of nothing else.

Today, there were clear answers that I've known all along, but haven't been able to face. From the times of fear induced "play" in my early years, to the commanding presence of a very lost man who felt it his duty to beat me into becoming what he wanted (needed?) even if it made no sense at all. But there was so much in between those years, and beyond even, that only served to confirm there was no-one trustworthy. Other than one woman who was my physical protector, who had herself seen things she shouldn't have. There were a couple of others who fell into the category of trustworthiness, but my sister Becky, was who I depended the most on. Maybe because she was only 4 years older than me and had been my constant companion during our childhood years.

Today, I waited until I could see to put one foot in front of the other, before traipsing out of the house. It was still darkish, street lamps glowing, and sky very overcast. I know the route like the back of my hand since it's one I've walked for almost 4 months...113 days to be exact. Well, I have changed the route up a bit from time to time, but still know it quite well. What would have worried me, not even 6 months ago, was fear of the unknown. The thin shadows of roadside bushes, trees, driveways. The eerie glow of lamp posts in neighboring yards that failed to shine into the shadows. But, not today. There was a tiny twinge when I first left the house, but it laid it's head back down and relaxed, freeing me up to listen. Really listen.

The days are getting much shorter now. And cooler! And I do love the weather the Fall season brings with it. My walks are getting longer because of it. And faster. I feel great, being outside! For as long as I can remember, I've been a "house" person. Just stay inside where the atmosphere is controllable. Sounds sort of like a prison, doesn't it? Even though I have a really great life, great home, people who love me wholly, my relationship with myself hasn't always been the best, because of those pesky feelings of unworthiness. 

The early years of discipline taught me respect of others, as well as a great work ethic. But it also taught me that I wasn't worthy of love. Maybe that's one of the reasons I am so in love with the One who created me. I know His love is unconditional and that whatever journey I take, He will walk through it with me. He knows the brokenness of humanity. He was a recipient of it. He understands all my innermost thoughts. My anxious spirit, at times, and always brings me up higher.

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

The Girl Who Walks Series - Episode #3

She got a late start this morning. The sun had already risen as she walked past the house. It was barely 7AM, but the streets were awake and beginning to hum. It was so unlike her to allow the shadows to disappear before stirring...

Today would be the day, I decided, to get some answers to all (or at least to some) of my questions. I let her get a short distance down the road before I joined her walkabout. She'd never suspect anything. After all, there were other walkers out this time of day, so I fell in step with her. I know it sounds a bit creepy, but my own curiosity had gotten the better of me. This woman had caused me to expect better things of myself. She inspired me. She energized me. If ever there was a faithful person, she was the embodiment of them. I have seen plenty of other walkers, but none have been so consistently faithful as she.

I was beginning to think this was just a regular walkabout, with nothing in particular happening. So why did she feel the need for protection? I had assumed that whatever she had in her clenched fist was for protection. This morning, she walked with both fists clenched. Maybe she was a bit nervous because she felt more exposed without the shadows to blend her into the humidity of the breaking day. Maybe she hadn't relaxed just yet.

We had traveled about three quarters of a mile, had rounded a curve, or two, and found ourselves heading down a long stretch. I know this road!!! It's the street of the abandoned house. The house that never has any activity. No lights on, yard never cared for, upside down canoe that's covered in grass/weeds, and the black pouch that lays beneath the tree.

As we neared the house, I noticed the black pouch. Torn, shredded on one side, laying open because of the abuse it had received. She looked over at it, paused, and then walked on, as she glanced toward the house. I slowed my pace...

Just as we got closer to two roads crossing each other, I could see her shoulders tighten, as one side lifted just a bit higher than the other. I stepped to the other side of the walkway to see what had caused her anxiety. Coming towards her was two young men on bicycles. The first one appeared to be coming straight for her, with no apparent choice of giving her room to walk. She would have to move off the path, unless she wanted to get run over, because he sure wasn't widening the distance between them. But, she held her ground. Her other shoulder tensed as the object in her hand begin to move into a position of readiness.

They met, with only inches between them. The young man continued his ride without glancing her way. Her hair blew away from her face as the rider raced past her. Her shoulders relaxed, her finger moved from the object in her hand, and her stride lengthened. The second bicyclist acknowledged her with a smile, and a respectful sharing of the pathway, that caused a smile to stretch itself across her own face. It was a smile of hope. A smile of gratitude. A smile of thanks. Was that a spring in her step? It appeared to me these two knew each other, or at least had their paths cross before today. 

We continued our walk without further incidence, until... 

Facing the giants, here you'll find me...in Mary's World

 

The Girl Who Walks Series - Episode #2

 

It was June 9th, 2023, at 5:54 AM, when the mysterious woman entered my world. Day, after day, she has been a constant event. I'm a writer, you see, and my imagination has taken flight since that first sighting. It doesn't seem to matter the weather, she is always there. Early morning hours, always. Some sweltering hot. Others, like this morning, a very cool 58 degrees. Come rain, or come shine, she is my constant.

Today is September 2nd, 2023. Autumn is about to arrive, and because the days are getting shorter, she has begun her constitutional walks much later. Still, she shows up when the sky is just beginning to welcome us to another day.  Today, the beams coming from the street lights disrupt the shadows thrown across the roadway, and reveals a secret is hidden inside her closed fist.

Fall weather has come to our neighborhood, overnight. Literally. I'm not sure how she feels about it just yet. I've only seen her one time in anything other than a sleeveless blouse and her Sketchers Walk On pants (or jeans, on occasion), and what looks to be like the infamous slip-on Sketchers foot wear. Some would say I'm too observant. Is that really a thing though? How can someone be TOO observant? First World issues. I know...

I've lived here for a very long time and know the neighborhood pretty well. It is a friendly one, for the most part. When they get to know a person, at least. But, mostly they keep to themselves when meeting someone like my mysterious walker. I'm pretty sure they rarely acknowledge her presence (if ever), much less speak to her. She must wonder why. Does it cause her to be afraid of them? It's not the deep south, but it is the south! So, aren't we advertised as being friendly? She must wonder. And, what is she carrying in her clutched fist? 

I wonder which route she will take today. Are there other neighbors that watch as she makes her way down the road? Has she walked past the house that looks abandoned, where the grass is never mowed and it's always dark inside? If so, she must have noticed the dusty black van that sits under the carport that looks to have not been used for a very long time. What does she think about the upside down canoe (of sorts), with high weeds threatening to cover it, and the junk that surrounds it? And what about the little black pouch that lays at the foot of the large tree? How much curiosity can she handle? Will she continue to walk past without finding out? How will she get her questions answered? She must have them! Will the man who walks with holstered gun and side kick dog be part of the solution? And are they the reason for the secret weapon in her fist?

So many questions that need answers. Maybe I should become her friend. But how???

Until then, here you will find me...in Mary's World.