Fear Not

I felt true joy today. I took Benjamin to the fair and he was so excited that it warmed my heart to the core. It was a gorgeous day, and I was happy. Then I felt guilty. I felt guilty because Henry is gone and today I was happy. I know I have to continue to live. And that this wasn't my choice, but it almost feels wrong to smile. A friend of mine who lost a baby sister told me that she wanted to hang onto her anger as long as possible because to let that go would be letting her go. For so long she held onto her anger because she was afraid. Truth is, I'm afraid too. I'm afraid to live a life without him. I carried my sweet son every moment his heart beat on this earth. And now that it has stopped, I'm lost. But maybe being lost isn't so bad? Maybe being lost gives me no other place to go but to the arms of Jesus. I've always been one of those people who struggle with fear. And I'm not talking normal, healthy fears. I'm talking fear to the extreme, and I have so much fear of the future. Fear I'll lose Benjamin. Fear I'll never have another child. Fear I'll die trying to have another child. Fear I'll let Henry's death ruin me or that he will be forgotten. And so on and so on. I've come to realize that I can't help how I feel. I can't help that my first thoughts are fatalistic and that things scare me. But I can turn those fears over to The Lord. I can stay off Google and WebMD and throw myself into His Word and promises. And I can do things afraid. King David said in Psalm 55:4, "My heart is in anguish within me. The terrors of death have fallen on me." David was "a man after God's own heart." He was afraid, so why shouldn't I also struggle with fear? I don't think it matters if we're afraid or courageous. What matters is what we do with that fear. The Bible says things like "Do not be afraid" and "Fear Not" over a hundred times! God anticipated our fear so we can rest assure that being afraid is okay. Let's be honest. Life can be hard. We aren't promised a happy ending on this earth. I was never promised a healthy child. But I am promised comfort in my dark hour. I am promised eternal life. And nothing, even the most horrific of circumstances, can take that away. Not the death of a child. Not failure. Nothing. And for that reason, I am choosing not to be afraid.