There is another mouse running around my house. It looks like it’s an annual event in my neighborhood – as the temperature drops, these lil’ bastards start looking for a warm, food filled homes to relax in until next spring. It’s like they’re a bunch of retired seniors, and my house is Miami.
If you have a kick ass Golden Girls reference to plug in here, please send it in. I know there’s one out there, but I got nothin. Winner gets a t-shirt, or something. But let’s get back to it …
Fear exists in my life. Every damn day. What’s going to happen to us? To our home? The dog will die soon someday. won’t that be sad? We could be walking around with cancer and not know it. Isn’t that horrible? Why should we try do do anything? Is this scratchy throat more than adult onset allergies? Where is the thermometer? HOW ARE THESE MICE GETTING INTO THE HOUSE!?!
The answers to these questions are always simple: “yes,” “no,” or “i don’t know.” But they aren’t easy to hear. Especially when the “I don’t know” is attached to that thermometer question, and the inquiring party is your wife. She’s ordering one on Amazon Prime now, and I’m not allowed to use things unsupervised anymore.
We are capable of identifying fear in our lives, and we are understanding how it deprives us of the power of choice. But after we find the courage to say, “I’m afraid,” then what? Does that make the monsters – or mice – go away?
Not at all. Our fears are steadfast. They stand in our paths, trying to detour us from venturing into the unknown. They are the difference between what we want and what we are certain of. They stop us from doing what we don’t know how to do
Our fears are trying to protect us.
Sometimes, we need to tell them “It’s cool. I got this.” And keep going.
Like me, for example. I’m off to pick up some more traps.
