“Fear defeats more people than any other one thing in the world.”
–Napolean Bonaparte
We could hear the sudden storm approaching in the pine trees. The wind sounded like a freight train coming. We could see the pine trees across the lake bending in the wind. Thunder was rolling in the distance and we could smell the oncoming rain. I could feel the storm beginning in my own stomach.
My daughter, Julie, and I were camping alone at Lost Creek Lake in a little four-man tent. This had to be the worst place to get caught in a storm. My hands got clammy and my heart beat faster, but I had a 5 year-old for whom I needed to be strong.
I went back to the memory in my mind from when I was maybe six-years old. The lightning hit the telephone pole with a resounding crack! It then traveled through the wire to the house and blew a hole in the side of the house. I was sitting in the back seat of my mom’s car, my eyes riveted to the resulting fire as we drove by. Even now I can see that memory. From that time on, thunder storms struck terror in my being.
Rain brought me back to the present. “Mom! What about the hamburgers?” Julie asked. Right! We had burgers outside on the little barbecue.
“Let’s see if they’re done and we’ll have to picnic inside the tent! You grab the ketchup, mustard and pickles.” I answered. “This will be fun.” I had to convince myself. I couldn’t show Julie I was terrified. Just then a huge clap of thunder sounded and we both jumped. Julie looked at me with those big blue eyes full of fear.
“Wow, the angels are bowling and that sounded like a strike!” I laughed.
She laughed, too, “That was sure loud.”
We scrambled into the tent as the sky opened up and began pouring rain. The wind raged against the tent and the thunder was deafening. We got all settled with our hamburgers, but before a bite was eaten, Julie said to me, “Mom, I’m scared, aren’t you?” I wanted to scream from a curled up fetal position, “Heck, yeah!” but my gentle reply was, “Yes, but it’s going to be okay. We’re safe in here. The storm sounds like it right upon us, but if you count between the lightning and the thunder, it’s really five miles away. We’re just getting the edge of it.”
“So when I see the lightning flash, then I count until I hear the thunder, that tells us how far away the storm is?” Julie asked.
“Yep.” I answered and took a big bite of my burger. “This burger is really good!”
At the next flash of lightning, Julie counted 1.2.3.4.5.6. before we heard the thunder. “MOM, it’s going away!”
“Of course, it is.” And it was. As fast as the storm came upon us, it was blowing away. And with it, was blowing away my fear.
“To escape fear, you have to go through it not around it.”
W. Clement Stone.
I smiled. All those years, I crawled into bed with my parents during thunderstorms. All those events missed growing up because the weather report predicted storms—many of which never happened. All those years I was controlled by fear of storms. I decided to be courageous for my daughter and just face that fear head-on with courage, and in 15 minutes an intimately held, long-term dread was blown away.
What other fears did I have that could dissipate like that? That thought was certainly worth pondering.
Julie and I zipped open the tent to peer out. To our delight, those bowling angels had painted a double rainbow across the sky above the lake. Yes, it was going to be okay.
When this Virus Storm blows over…and it will…it’s going to be okay. In fact, I believe it’s going to be better because we’ll find opportunities that we didn’t know existed. There will be “rainbows” if we just look for them.
Fearlessly typed,
Jan
Jan McDonald
The John Maxwell Team
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