I finally cried. Finally. After weeks of feeling like all of my fear and sorrow were being crushed under a passive brick wall I FINALLY cried.

Thank God for therapy. Thank God for processing and freedom.

Over the last few days I have become so acutely aware of the things that have kept me trapped. The constant presence of fear in my life has kept me from expressing joy, from being fearlessly vulnerable and from engaging in the terrifyingly beautiful adventures that overflow from the ocean of life. I'm afraid. I'm always so afraid.

Sometimes I lock us all away, too afraid to relax. Sometimes I force myself to let it go; to just close my eyes and leave the door unlocked. Every attempt at freedom has created more and more anxiety. And now.... now the very worst has come true. I've been hiding out trying to keep disaster from finding us, but it found us anyway. It crawled right underneath us with it's tiny, lethal body and it's curved, poisonous tail. And then it struck. And we started to crumble. All of the fear that has swirled and slashed deep within me came roaring to the surface. And shit. Shit. The only way out was straight through that churning, violent sea.

I don't know why I was surprised to see the God who made the sea standing right on top of the water. I don't know where else I expected him to be. His firm and holy hand reaching for mine. His voice, strong like the wind, certain and steady, "why doubt me? I've got this."

And here I am. Here we are. Fear uncovered and standing in front of me like a familiar, yet hated, companion. All this time I've been slouching through life feeling fear's clammy hand pressing against my heart. I've been curled inward trying to press forward.

I am so done. I am so over being afraid. I am so finished. The worst happened. Jesus did not budge. I didn't drown.