Nearly three weeks ago, the night before we left for Kenya, I let my fear get the best of me.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t keep the worries away.
The what-ifs filled my heart, my mind, the room.
I woke my sleeping husband and asked him to help me fight my fears.
I sobbed into my pillow as he prayed for peace to cover me.
When someone peers into my life from the outside, sees that I was bold enough to try and start something from nothing, dares to take my young children into a third world country, they say, “you are brave.”
And my fear, just under the surface, grips.
Because I am not courageous.
Again on a particularly challenging day during our trip, when my answers mocked all the questions, I quaked with fear. I am often overwhelmed with the unknown and my own inadequacy.
But bravery is sometimes being the only one who knows you’re scared to death and acknowledging just how much you need God.
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. For now you are traveling the road between who you think you are and you can be.” -Meg Cabot.
Sometimes I don’t want to be brave.
But even more, I don’t want to be afraid.
Because this is more important than fear:
I think laughter may be a form of courage. As humans we sometimes stand tall and look into the sun and laugh, and I think we are never more brave than when we do that. -Linda Ellerbee