I'm working on a non-fiction project called Bohemian Forgiveness: Five Unconventional Paths to Forgiving What You'll Never Forget. There's not much to see on the Facebook page for now but it will come, and I'll be sure to keep you posted.
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Today I will overcome my fear of elevators. I know it sounds silly, but elevators freak me out. And it has nothing to do with being a survivor of childhood victimization--that would at least make sense.
Elevators didn't bother me until four years ago when one of my darling sons thought it would be a good idea to sneak out of our house in the middle of the night. The policeman who caught him breaking the city curfew did not. His step-father and I did not.
It was winter, and his court date required a trip down town. It also required an elevator ride with too many people in coats. At one point the elevator stalled, and I got the strangest sensation in my chest. I had an overwhelming desire to take my coat off, but we were packed like sardines in a can. And that's when I felt it: fear. Fear of being stuck in that box with all those people with all those coats.
Why am I telling you this? Because tonight my husband and I are attending a wedding rehearsal-dinner that requires an elevator ride to the sixty-ninth floor of a restaurant in Dallas. Sixty-nine floors.
Today is the day I overcome my fear of elevators. There is no way I am going to miss out on something joyful just because the joy that awaits me requires an uncomfortable journey through fear.
"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love." (1 John 4:18 NKJV)
Today is the day that I overcome my fear of elevators, in Christ. That doesn't mean that Monday I'll blog about my new love for elevators. It just means that I will have something joyful to tell you vs. a story of regret.
All together now . . . breathe.
Published on Friday, August 27, 2010 @ 9:25 AM CDT