When I was a child, I thought that to be brave was to go in my room and night, and actually look under my bed to see if there
were monsters there.
When I was a teen, I thought that to be brave was walking home alone, in the quiet dark, after a night of babysitting.
When I was a young adult, I thought that to be brave was to stay home alone when my hubby went out of town.
Brave has many faces, but on each face a fear of something, known or unknown, is written. The fears of childhood are the foundation for the fears of the rest of our lives. If I re-read my own expressions of what it was to be brave when I was younger, they are all centered on two fears; fear of the dark, and fear of being alone.
I believe that they are universal fears, I believe they are innate fears. I believe the
two fears are really one fear, for to be afraid of the dark is always diminished by
being in the presence of another.
From when we are born, we experience times alone. From our earliest beginnings in our mother’s womb, we experience dark. Yet those two fears go with us, and in some, intensify as we get older.
There is something about nighttime that can cause doubts, discomfort and fears to arise more easily. Add to that being alone, and the night can seem endless and hopeless.
For a child, being taken to bed, being tucked in, being reassured by a loving person that they are safe and that the nighttime will not last forever, can lessen their fear of the dark. If that does not work, having someone to accompany them in the dark, until they fall off to sleep will eliminate any further cries of fear.
For myself, as an adult, I hear far fewer noises, I sleep far easier, when hubby is in the house with me. His presence assures me that I am not alone, and the dark no longer has power over me.
If we are to be brave, we need to understand that the presence of another can be the light that takes away our fear of the dark,
because their presence itself is like a light.
God’s message to us all in Isaiah 42:16 is “I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.” Whenever we think that we are alone, we need to remember that the One who never breaks His promises to us, is with us. Him in our lives means we are never fully alone, and the darkness is eliminated by the light of his presence.
“Fear is the path to the dark side.”
Yoda



and more confused. It seemed to me that I was about half of one, and half another.
that we can to make other people notice and be happy with us and our efforts. We will even do and be who we are not, in order to attain the affirmation and positive attention of others. After years of ‘becoming’ what and who we may not be, we can end up struggling to see who we really are … who God created us to be.
We may or may not be married.

*This is a re-post from three years ago, after having been for a visit on the East Coast of Canada. Today hubby heads there (he refers to it as the Promised Land) and my thoughts have been going East more each day … it is time I make plans for a trip to that temporary home, from my past..
discontent I live with in our present west coast contemporary home (it is all size and little character). Well my trip to the east coast, this past summer, did little to hinder my house ‘wanderlust’ (
It never ceases to amaze me of how the sights of these character (or, as hubby would say, “old”) buildings makes my heart flip flop. But, when you live in a place (as I do) where buildings over fifty years old are torn down to make room for ‘modern’ architecture (modern architecture, to me is an oxymoron), you can see where my longing comes from.
was a
major industry. The end of that industry resulted in the gradual demise of many communities beautifully situated along the Bay, and it is reflected in the low cost of character-rich estate homes in those communities (low cost, as in w a y less than $200,000).
built into them stands tall for all to see and admire (or, in the words of hubby’s dad, “look at that straight roof line”).
It seemed as though there was nothing and no one that was available and desiring to fill my cup. The emptier it got, the emptier I felt. The emptier I felt, the more firmly in place were my self pity pants. I was wallowing. Really though, it was valid wallowing … I was begging for a refill, and no one was willing to take the time to throw me a line! I was drowning in despair …