I've got my fighting gloves on, folks. Me against the mattresses. Me against 27 years of being afraid and being afraid and trying really hard not to be afraid...and being afraid again.
I feel it - the fear - slithering across my skin like a giant snake, weaving in and out and around until I can hardly stand beneath the weight of it. Crippling, paralyzing, fear, going in for the kill. I hate it. I hate it enough to do something about it.
But why would this time be different from any other time, all those millions of times, that I resolved to trust God and succeeded for about 10 minutes before pushing Him away again? (I am trying to come up with a really great answer to this question.)
Maybe I just gave up too quickly and too easily. Going to the mattresses is about not taking no for an answer. It's about putting on the fiercest fighting face you've got. It's about going after the thing you want so hard that either you win it or you die trying. I can do that. I will do that.
I will trust and not be afraid. These are my fighting words.
