Fear is my Bull

I watched a rodeo recently. Cowboys dripped with enthusiasm, strength, and vigor.

the bull was covered in crazy.....

Intensely I watched them hold on for dear life...knowing falling was uncertain pain, and likely injury.
So they rode crazy...to prevent pain. They rode crazy, because it's what they do, it's what they know.

My bull has a name: Fear......I tire of his spins and grow sick from his wicked gyrations.....

My bones ache weary from trying to stay on, trying to fight to make life work...trying to avoid injury by embracing anxiety and dread.

Fear is the enemy. It's one of many that I face on a daily basis. It tears at my confidence in the God of the universe...it defies and mutilates my peace.

This rodeo comes with a choice.

I believe courage comes from leaving that beast of burden alone.

Right now bravery smells like untainted air...and I want to take a DEEP breath.

Some say I'm weak, I tip my hat to them and step out of the ring.

2Corinthians 12:10...."For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Milk...It does a body good?

Have you ever grabbed a gallon of milk, poured some fresh coldness into a big cup, sat down in your favorite spot, tipped the cup back...and....BLECH, SOUR MILK! The taste is so horrendous that you run to the nearest sink and spit it out?

I've done that before.

Actually, I've spewed a little sour milk in my day.....but it was the verbal kind. I thought I could handle things, thought that I could sit down and get comfortable, only to realize that what was in my "cup" didn't taste like it appeared. It was downright disgusting.

Have you ever done that?

I sometimes think where our greatest talents lie, there also can be our greatest failures. Messes. Sour-ness.

I'm a verbal person. For those that know me, they just rolled their eyes as that's quite the understatement. Yet, with that gift...my tongue can bring about life or death.....Proverbs 18:21 "The tongue has the power of life and death and those who love it will eat it's fruit."

So, with knowing that, if I take it literally...then when I face the challenges I face...I need to visualize myself taking a big whopping SWIG of that sour milk...every time I yell, take someone apart verbally, curse, throw out insults...and I need to remember that if I drink that junk all day long...eventually I will die.

That's only half of the impact that this situation holds. The other half is the filth that I am POURING OUT on other people.

Every time I take that cup...I have a choice.

I have failed miserably. I have been wretched, and caused others to wretch because of my words...I no longer want to do that. I want to refresh, to be the choice drink in God's chalice, if you will. I want to be the same on the inside of the gallon as I am on the outside.

I choose life.