Battling through the fears...

I leave in the morning... just a two hour drive to a friend's home tomorrow, then another couple hours driving on Friday, followed by two flights.

My best friend, M. came over to help me pack this afternoon... she was invaluable, and made the process fun instead of stressful... helped me to have someone to talk through the decisions with - do I take this or that? the white or the beige? helped me that she's travelled all over the world for lengthy periods of time. Plus, she owed me. I packed her for a trip to Africa for 2 months a couple years ago, and a trip to Nepal and Pakistan for three months last year.

I went to Mom and Dad's for a bit this evening... Mom is a craniosacral and massage therapist, and she gave me a treatment/massage... it helped relieve a bit of the stress...

It's not news to anyone who knows me well that I struggle with fear issues in a major way. These last few days have been out of control fear wise.

In the spirit of being really honest here, let me just tell you some things.

I have been so stressed and afraid that my stomach has stopped tolerating food. I haven't eaten since Monday night. I'm existing on water and gatorade and fruit juice. I'd really like to tell you that this is the first time this has happened to me, but it's old hat.

I've been fighting off panic attacks at night. I'd like to tell you that I've never experienced that before either, but it's happened dozens of times.

In the spirit of describing exactly how huge it is that I'm flying across the ocean for the next month, let me just tell you that I have attacks of fear when I go to stay with very dear friends for the weekend in a town only an hour's drive away. I push through fear every time I meet a youth kid for coffee, every time I go somewhere new, step into a new situation. Unless the situation is perfectly familiar and predictable, I battle fear.

The thing about the fears is that I know they're irrational. I know that making this trip is making a step of obedience - that I am doing something God has called me to do. I know that I am doing this in the safest possible environment, with the best possible friends for this step. I even get frustrated with myself for being terrified, for having such irrational fears.

I know that in a day or two, once the trip is underway I'll be fine, but in the meantime, I'm fighting off the fears.

I'm dealing with panic, and nausea. I'm sleeping very little. I'm thinking irrationally. I'm feeling faint from not eating, and exhausted from the lack of sleep.

And underneath, I'm excited. I'm thrilled that I'm going to spend the next month with dear friends, praying for Malta, and the world. I'm thrilled that I'm going to spend Ash Wednesday in Rome with a dear friend. I'm thrilled at the prospects of a couple days in London with some other dear friends.

But until I'm there - until I push past the fear of stepping so completely outside of my comfort zone, so far from that which I can control, I need to face the fear, and I need to believe that the next time I decide to travel somewhere to pray, the fear will be a little bit less, and that each time after that, it will continue to lessen. I need to believe that there will come a point where I won't spend days puking and sleepless before making a step of obedience.

I know Jesus walks with me, and I need to believe that He is stronger than the fear, and that his strength and grace are more than sufficient in this space.

Here I go...