"No. I'm afraid."

I am afraid of dogs.  It is not rational; more phobic in fact.  I think I was a naturally fearful child (temperament? attachment issues?  trauma in the womb?  regardless...) and dogs were the one thing that seemed okay for me to project all my fear on.  Oh - that and my brother, my ever-present best buddy, was bitten on the nose by a yappy little dog in West Berlin; true story.

Origins and psychobabble aside - I fear dogs.  (Really, just dogs I don't know).  To the point where it sometimes effects my life in certain ways.  And I am not okay with that.  I am not okay with fear dominating an area of my life.

If you have read this blog, you know the primary way this fear manifests itself is on my runs: "gauntlets of dog-ridden, fence-lined paths."  Oh, holy moly.    But I face it, and try to work through it, and today I was comfortable.  

Imagine my surprise when slap dab in the middle of the road there was a huge boxer and his buddy, the border collie.  SOMEONE CALL 911!!! 

But, no!  I have control.  I am alpha, dogs are beta.  I am calm.  I am able.  I will face this head on, "Go home, buddies....go home."  Dogs barking, approaching, snarling.  "Go home, doggies.  GO home."  Dogs moving in, Lizzy don't panic.  "GO HOME DOGS, " just like my momma taught me.  Feelings rising, traffic not budging (I was blocked on off by a busy street), dogs pursuing.

"Jesus, help me."

Car approaching, "Are those your dogs?"  says the kind, elderly man.

"No.  I'm afraid."  Three words communicated it all.

"Okay, hun.  I will take care of it."  Bless him, bless him.

I'm working on it, but it sure is nice to have some support along the way.
...More later on how the Wagners are in search of a dog to live us.  Oh, holy moly.

No Place Safer

"...in God's world... there are no places that are safer than other places..."
As I read Betsie Ten Boom's wise words as quoted by her sister, Corrie, I am struck once again.
This in midst of Nazi-invaded Holland.  (The Hiding Place).

Oh the ways we try to create safety: money, health, image, relationships, location.  

"The center of His will is our only safety.  Oh Corrie, let us pray that we may always know His will."
Amen.

7 Years Later: A Pill to Swallow

"...a bitter pill to swallow."  This is a phrase we all know well; one that holds the irony of something we must accept but do not wish to.  The bitter taste increases in our mouth.  The resistance to ingest it meets the knowledge that we cannot heal if spit out. 

I swallowed a pill that was risky; it was radioactive.  And I did not even think for a second about spitting it out.  It was easy to follow the procedure for healing - it had instructions.  Fall out instructions, follow up instructions.  I knew what to expect.

And then there are the pills that I have resisted swallowing.  They are healing pills too, but they do not have instructions.  They do not have shape and form.  I cannot touch them.  You have them too.

Days after the easy-to-swallow pill, I underwent a full body scan.  To trace the movement of the medicine.  To notice any areas of my body that were thirsty for iodine and had absorbed its deadly, and therefore healing, properties. 

Oh, to have the kind of progress report on all pills in life I must swallow.  To see how they kill cancerous things and enable healthy life.