I feel alone.
I know I’m not.
I know it’s a lie.
The truth is, God is real.
The truth is, God is with me. He holds me. And He’s all I need.
Sometimes, I’m so afraid. Afraid that He’s going to take away what I have…to see if I really trust Him.
I know I can, but I don’t want to because I keep coming back to that feeling…
Can I trust Him?
What if He takes things away, what if he lets me down, what if he disappoints, what if he lets me fail?
I know it’s fear.
And fear is a bully.
It pushes me around.
Tells me what to do, what to think, and it tells me lies.
It tells me what other people are probably thinking about me.
It tells me I’m wrong about things and it tells me what my limits are.
It tells me the boundaries stop here, or there and it tells me there’s no way that a girl like me could accomplish anything like that other girl there.
Because that’s how fear has always been.
Fear doesn’t give me hope. It doesn’t tell me I can do things. It doesn’t encourage or build me up.
It tells me just the opposite.
It tells me that I have no hope.
That I can’t do anything…at least anything right.
And it tears me down inside which makes me different outside.
It reminds me of the past and brings up all my weaknesses.
It tells me that I will never be good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough…and it fills in the blank before “enough” with whatever I’m feeling down about that day. It’s actually kind of smart.
And it doesn’t just whisper these things to me.
It screams at me.
It screams loud.
Loud and clear.
It makes sense when she talks.
I call fear “she” because girls are the ones who have hurt me the most.
And in my mind, I can picture the things that I am feeling about myself being spoken by the girls who have stabbed me in the back.
Being spoken by the girls who have actually spoken those things about me to my face (or in some cases an email or text)
And so those thoughts of…maybe I am a terrible person.
Maybe I am a failure.
Maybe I am…many other things, are all being spoken clearly, and loudly in my head from the voice of a girl.
From the voice of a girl I thought I could trust.
And yet, through all of this..this voice that I am allowing myself to listen to?
The voice of fear?
It’s the wrong voice.
It’s the voice that sounds the loudest, only when I am blocking out the other sounds around me.
Because the truth?
The truth is that God speaks.
I need to let that sink in.
He speaks to me.
To me, personally.
The Hebrew word “dabar” is used in the Old Testament hundreds of times in reference to the very God of the Universe speaking to mere humans.
Because that’s the kind of God I have.
He is a personal God.
The kind of God who wants to be that Daddy to me.
The kind of God who wants to speak truth to me.
And his voice is the voice of truth.
The voice that tells me how valuable I am.
How precious I am.
How much I am worth, and how I can do anything with His strength.
Why do I let that loud, obnoxious, rude voice overtake the peaceful, calm and loving one?
I don’t know.
I don’t know why I choose to let that voice of fear push me around and bully me.
But I want it to stop.
And the only way I know how to do that is to fill my head with the words of truth.
Not the hypothetical what if’s and what about’s.
It’s what God offers and it’s what God gives.
I’m taking it.
I’m turning off the sound of the voice of fear, and I’m tuning in to the voice of truth.
Because fear is a bully.
And this girl is not going to let a bully push me down.
I’m listening to the voice of truth.
What voice are you listening to?