i am scared to be happy. i used to be scared of thunder storms. i remember one time i was at my grandmother's house and i was lying on the couch as it began to thunder and rain. i could feel the dampness in my hair as sweat seeped through my nervous pores. i heard cracking as an unfortunate tree got hit by lightening and i saw severed branches on the ground where it didn't belong. the wind began to blow and rain started to pour and every so often a flash of light alerted my attention and fears towards the storm. i imagined my father, who was coming to pick us up, in a horrible accident. maybe a tree limb fell on his car, maybe the car slipped on the road, maybe lightening struck him, who knew? but he came. and i was relieved as me and my sister left to go home where it was safe, where i knew everything would be in its right place and be there to stay.

i realize that i wasn't so much scared of the lightening, the rain, and the wind themselves. i was scared of the effect that they would have on me. and the same fear grips me now. happiness? happiness i can't grab, i can't hold onto, and no matter how tight i may grip it it can go away. i am scared to be happy because i know that at any instant it can be taken away. of course, this is true in all things. i can lose any part of my body to disease or accident; i can lose my family or friends through death; i can lose myself in my depression. so why happiness? why does it matter so much? maybe i've grown up listening to too many happily ever afters. no one tells you what happens after happily ever after because happily ever after means forever. people living happy forever. but the more i've grown up the more that isn't true. disappointment, failure, crushed hopes have all the more watered my fear making it grow into this giant tree whose shade i'm under, not allowing any sunlight to touch me for fear of being burned.

the more i stay under this tree, the more i feel the vines of pride strangle me and hold me down to where i don't belong. i don't belong under this tree of fear. i want to be free and i want to cut these vines that are holding me down. cutting them hurt because it seems that they have become a part of me, stuck on me like tape, like a bandaid i don't want to rip off because it'll pull out some of my hairs with it, but wounds need to breathe to heal. and i want to breathe and heal and i may get burned, i may fall, i may lose it all, but God will help me rise again. the God of redemption and hope in whom we can't be disappointed in, in whom there can be no failure. so God help me to lay it all out there. cut these vines so i can cut down this tree and give me seeds that will grow to bear fruit.