I am a walking contradiction: extremely confident and yet so fearful. It amazes me that I can still be scared after all these years and after all that God has done for, with and in me. Yet, at this point, I do not think it is something to repent of, but an opportunity to realign myself with God's will remembering all that he has done in the past and reorienting towards his future.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
The "solution" is not to cease being afraid as though fear (especially deeply rooted) could be turned off and on, but in meditative trust in the deeds of God in history and being formed in the process. To be specifically vague, I seem to be re-experiencing my history in an odd way except without an anxiety disorder and with the internal resources and faith of an adult who has already passed through the valley of "silent tears" and the death of "unborn hope." I've dealt with a narcissistic projector in the past. It was not fun. I knew the physical toll it would take after months on my body and I knew it would eventually start causing me to slip up in other areas of life whether professionally or getting behind in my personal life. Yet, when I started to slip up and was assumed to be X, I began to despair over it and everything I had lost.
And then I had to pause and remember the man of sorrows who had been appropriated by the Roman Empire to be a token mockery of a defeated people walks alongside me. The adversary finds power in iconoclasm distorting the images of those who threaten self-perception. What's another offering in what I have come to realize is a lengthy trail? And yet, I worship a crucified savior and the power of the cross is manifest in my weakness. It is in the rich God who became poor so that we could become rich (2 Cor 8:9). Finally, I had to throw up my hands: "God, I am all alone, have been smashed into my adversary's ill image, and am now making stupid mistakes! (I don't like making silly errors especially when stressed)." And yet, Christ is evident in me even in my fear? And even as I descend into incompetence?
In a moment, I felt like the man approached by Jesus after his eyes had been healed and had been thrown out of the synagogue. Its that mix of heartache in isolation as well as wonder that you could finally see after a life of blindness and realization that though alone, you have been approached by Jesus.
Maybe everything is not resolved, but at least it is in perspective as I wait for scene 2...