Feelings...

All summer I've been paying attention to feelings. This is not as easy as it sounds, given that I'm an emotion-challenged person who just kind of bulls forward regardless of my own or anyone else's feelings. Isn't life all about "do the right thing"? None of this FEELINGS stuff for me, thank you very much! Of course that's hogwash; we all have feelings whether we pay attention to them or not. So this summer I have been paying attention and have felt a sense of peace and wellbeing that I didn't expect. In my inattention, I had allowed a small pot of discontent to simmer constantly on the back burner--not enough to be called "unhappiness" or to warrant a major life overhaul, just a thumb on the scale that let problems and concerns weigh me down unnecessarily. Paying attention has restored the balance because now I notice and mark and fully live the moments of joy and triumph and peace, too. Now I've got an overflowing cup to go along with my simmering pot!

I've learned a few things about myself along the way. At the heart of my discontent, I've found, is one of two feelings: a feeling of deprivation or a feeling of fear. I've discovered that what's behind that nagging feeling that all is not right in the world is too often a disappointment with what I have--I feel that I don't have enough money or food or time or love or respect or talent. I want more. And yet the wanting more is not so much because the thing itself is inherently good but rather because I expect it to fill up a space where emptiness is causing me pain. It's not that I want the thing itself; it's that I believe the thing is owed me, and the fact that I don't have all I am owed or all I think I need gives me pain. It's the feeling of having a good withheld, like when everybody else gets a piece of candy but I don't. The opposite of feeling deprived is thankfulness, and I need to cultivate it because it doesn't come naturally to me!

The opposite of faith is fear. Sometimes I'll realize that my brow is creased and my hands are clenched and my jaw is tight. Some call it stress, but I'm learning to call it fear. Usually I don't know what I'm afraid of, but I know that my body and heart are sitting at the edges of their chairs, looking out for the worst, anticipating pain or difficulty.

I never thought of myself as fearful or discontent. I was surprised by the hold these have over me, their power in my life--surprised also at the joy of being freed from their power by the forgiveness found in Jesus. He truly does give rest to those who are heavy-laden. I'm feeling that rest so much more now that I'm also letting myself feel the fear and am turning in trust to Him whenever it strikes.

Now I know why David said, "WHEN (not IF) I am afraid, I will trust in you."