sometimes i wish i had never read emily dickinson

Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions.” – Ecclesiastes 7:10

I’m anxious person by nature.  I got my first white hair at age 11.  I was journaling at age 7 about my inner thoughts and contemplating mortality.  I was a weird kid.  I’m a weird adult, but normal weird, according to my friend Walter.  I’m not quite crazy weird; I can walk amongst normal, boring people and blend in.  ”We are not them.  But we can walk amongst them,” he says dramatically.

In other words, I can walk into a bank and not attract too much attention to myself.  Unlike some other jokers out there.

But I’m still normal weird.

My interest in the future has largely been fueled by intrinsic idealism, excitement and passion, but a lot of it has always been transformed into anxiety.  I soon learned that some of the best way to deal with change is to imagine it before it occurs.  A good friend once told me one of the best way to face your fears is to merely imagine that thing happening to me.  Confronting the implications of the possibility coming true. And accepting the possibility of that change.  That always used to freak me out but I’ve found incredibly freedom in that.  It lifts the weight.

Conversely, there’s been this side effect that this practice of mine still has the ability to paralyze me, even if it’s just temporary.  I wallow.  I dwell. For a few minutes, hours, days, I think it’s the end of the world.

But then I wake up, and realize that God’s sovereignty is still a reality.  There is freedom in letting go.  Change is an inevitably, necessary part of life.  Everything is redeemable.  Grace is still writing my story.

Every little thing is gonna be alright.

Bob was right.


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