As I’m sure the observant reader will note, I haven’t been around for a while. My digital little ‘verse of creative writing has been barren, and whatever storylines I wanted to grow are nothing but the stagnate seeds that I planted and abandoned. Well, the answer to why is as complicated, complex, and over-wrought with situations that I could fill this post with that alone. However, the blatantly simple, core truth of it all comes back to the title of this post…fear.

As my Fight Club (Nehemiah 4:14) brothers would attest, because the last thing I wrote was a letter to them about how I let my fear take advantage of me, this is an intense struggle for me. Fear takes many forms, and affects each person differently. The big, obvious dangers tend not to phase me that much. If I can see it, identify it, give it a name, and devise ways to counter it my fear is nothing more than reasonable precaution. For me it’s the subtle things. Probably topping that list is receiving a crippling injury, which has kept me from doing so many things (because I might get injured) that it is embarrassing to think about, and like digging into my own chest to speak off.

But the fear doesn’t stop there. See fear is sneaky. Once it finds a place to rest, it slowly sends thin, weaving tentacles through your mind, trying to take root in other aspects of your life. Over time and without noticing, you stop doing things because of possible consequences, and start rationalizing your arguments as to why you stopped. Some are legitimate, but take a close; honest, un-biased look and I would bet you find that most of them have the same starting point. Fear.

I have been really busy over the past half a year, but I can still mark plenty of times I looked at my laptop thinking I should write, then rejecting the thought with “I’m too tired” or “I don’t have time” or one of my personal specialties “I’ll do it tomorrow”. What really kept me from picking up that laptop was the fear that someone would mention that I had failed to keep up with my writing (as I promised when I started this blog) or even worse, that no one would notice that I had been gone. Better to stay away than risk discovering my irrelevance.

But the ideas are always coming. Each new character or storyline comes bursting into my head, taking shape, and trying to find a way out. Trying to find a way to be real, to be relevant, and because of my fear of being ignored and unknown, I let them starve, slowly leaching away as the energy that spawned them is smothered by my apathy and unwillingness to be let down. I have lost a good number of them that way.

Sometimes I will find a scrap of paper, recognize the writing as my own, the style of the words all resonant as me, but the story is gone. The knowledge of what it was and where it was supposed to go, or what it was supposed to do is vacant. Others clutch to life, withered and drained, waiting to be revived. Every now and again I will notice something to breathe a little life back into them, and so they hang on. Waiting.

At the beginning of the year, as a challenge from my church, I was asked to pray and to follow where God told me to go. I prayed, I heard, and despite myself, I ignored. Finally, after weeks of self-doubt I obeyed, and fivedollarsoffaith was the result. But when it didn’t move like I wanted to, I withdrew and let my fear of rejection take control, and covered it with a convenient blanket of excuses. I still felt guilty anytime I thought that I should write or “had planned” to write and let the day slip away.

Then last Sunday, I was listening to Pastor Ron (a guest pastor from one of our church plants), and this man is truly given a gift from God. Every time I hear him speak the lesson he is teaching touches me to the core like God had given him that message just for me. Close to the end of his time on stage he said, “It’s not really serving unless you have skin in the game.” It may not mean much to you, but to me it was a punch to the heart. The blog hadn’t taken off like “I” wanted it too, so “I” walked away to avoid the disappointment. But God plays a much longer game, and my “skin” is to have the bravery to keep writing, to keep giving these characters a home. All that He has asked is for me to keep doing what I love to do, to be dedicated to making it a priority instead of an afterthought, and trusting Him enough to keep hitting “post”.