A Burning Fear

It’s taken a little time to process what happened yesterday. The details are sketchy as it all happened in a blink, but the bottom line is that within moments, things went from normal and quiet to uncertain and panic-stricken; within a few seconds, one of my loves managed to have scalding liquid spilt on both hands.

We sprang into action immediately and immersed both hands under cool running water. The screams emanating from my poor love were shattering. I quickly called the doctor and was told to keep both hands in a tub of cool water and to come as soon as we could so that she could assess the burn and see if we needed someone else to take a look.

My mind was racing. Someone else?!? … I didn’t like the sound of that.

Time must have been suspended, because before I knew it we were walking into the doctor’s office with both hands submerged and both hearts in turmoil.

Our doctor saw my love immediately and, thankfully, was able to determine that the worst was behind us. She asked us to wait a few moments while she finished up with her current patient.

As my love and I sat in the waiting room, fresh tears began to fall. “Tell me what you are afraid of”, I prodded.

The answer broke my heart.

“I’m not going to be able to do my homework. I’m going to fall behind. No one is going to believe me when I tell them that I couldn’t get my work done.” My love was sobbing at this point.

Imagine… sitting in the doctor’s office with both hands submerged in cool water after experiencing trauma, and worrying about the things that you needed to get done. These were the concerns of a conscientious little mind. The product of a system that expects too much. I did my best to allay every fear. To assure my love that work can wait. That rest and recovery are as important as any responsibility we may have.

“Don’t let your fear about the future get in the way of what you need right now.”

“You’ve been through so much, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You are so brave.”

“You are so much more than any thing you could do.”

I saw the peace begin to settle in as my love’s shoulders relaxed and the tears subsided.

These assurances seemed obvious to me, because I had witnessed the context of it all. But my love, who had actually gone through the ordeal, couldn’t extend self-grace when it was needed most.

Suddenly, it became clear to me that we are all guilty of doing the same thing.

Our skin may not be scalded, but our minds are burning with anxieties and fear.

Our hands may not be submerged, but our hearts are drowning in a sea of expectations and disappointment.

Our voices may not cry out in pain, but they tremble and shake as we try to tell ourselves that it will all be ok.

Yet we beat ourselves up when we falter. We are ruthless in our judgment. We are quick to entertain self-condemnation.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, anxious or otherwise hopeless, give yourself permission to breathe. To rest. To recover.

If you feel like a failure because you haven’t managed to ‘do it all’, reach for grace and believe that your best effort is enough.

If you find yourself stretched thin, exhausted and depleted, here’s what I want to say:

“Don’t let your fear about the future get in the way of what you need right now.”

“You’ve been through so much, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You are so brave.”

“You are so much more than any thing you could do.”

You are worthy of grace.

Say it. Believe it. Live it.