Fear

All of my life, I've been afraid.

On the surface, I'd like to think that I'm calm, reasonable, and down to earth. I maintain, or at least used to maintain, the veneer of a skeptic. I never get too excited about something because I don't want to be disappointed if and when it doesn't happen.

But on the inside, I'm elated. I've lived an extraordinarily blessed life, full of promise for a happy future. Still, when the next dream promises to come true, I shut down--what if it doesn't happen? What if something terrible happens to me first? What if I die without this thing I want from the bottom of my heart?

I have to say, that the promise of marriage is the ultimate playground for my greatest fears and anxieties. There is nothing I'm so excited about as marrying Adam, starting and family, and building a life together with him. So nothing terrifies me as much as the idea it may not happen.

So, I have to confess that I'm terribly afraid. The idea of each plane flight before I get married (I'm scheduled for at least seven) makes me feel nauseated. I'm afraid each ache and pain is a harbinger of something awful.

I know my fear is unhealthy, a corruption of my God-given desire to find and follow my vocation. But I can't imagine I'm the only bride-to-be who is afraid.