I walk downstairs to the kitchen counter where I pick up my phone and check the emails that filled my inbox overnight. I boil the water for coffee, grind the beans, fill the French press and my mug with hot from the tap so they’ll be good and ready.
The grounds and water need to steep for three minutes before I plunge the press, so, as I do every morning, I shuffle to the couch to lie still and receive Love, the gift of Still.
After I’ve poured my first cup, I’ll head back to the couch where I read, pray and write in my journal, but this few minute portion of my morning routine is the be still and know.
I set the timer on my phone for three minutes and notice again the pressure in my head, my nose filling. Lying down doesn’t sound as good as it usually does with the cold lodged, so instead I crouch in the corner, the fuzzy blue throw blanket brushing my cheek.
The timer plays its timba next to my head, letting me know three minutes have passed. I turn it off and notice an email that’s just come in, from my writer friend — her post entitled “Faith or Fear?” I sit up fully to uncurl my body for the first cup and see emerge from the corner where I’ve been crouched a thick-bodied black spider.
I run to the kitchen for a paper towel and back to the couch, and, wouldn’t you know, that spider seems to know my plans. It jockeys back and forth like an athlete trying to juke me out, and then I smack it hard to the floor. A few legs remain behind as a streak on the couch. The rest is a crumpled heap on the rug. I feel momentarily sorry, and then indignant.
You entered my resting place.
In the week since, each time I’m ready to lie down — this morning included — I remember the eight legs and do a sweep of that corner with the light of my phone, check behind the pillows and under the blanket in the corner that’s long been my place of peace.
And each time, I think Faith or fear?
From first waking moments and throughout the day.
Because it’s not just a once and for all decision. From that sweep with my morning searchlight to writing right here in real time (yes, here I am writing Day 2 of Day 31) and throughout the day.
Faith or fear?
When I feel the fear, I need not rationalize it away. Neither do I need to keep remembering the size of the hairy creepy crawling thing or plumb the depths for explanation.
When things do not go as planned, when I feel the pressure of emotion and the unresolved, when the chaos and to-do list begins to close in, when I face an unknown future — so often fear sits beneath.
And there’s always a choice for right here.
Faith or fear?
Yes, Perfect Love searches corners and invites surrender.
So today I’m allowing fear to help me recognize my limitations, remember my human need for the divine, release the grip.
Receive and believe.
This moment right here to the next.
This is Day 2 of Right Here. To find all posts in 31 Days of Right Here, click here or see the listing below.
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