When I bought Buster he was a playful six-week-old ShihTzu puppy with a tail that wagged twice as fast as any I’d ever seen. I named him “Metronome in Cut-Time”, but I called him Buster.
When he was twelve weeks old he witnessed the accidental self-hanging of his older friend, “Sassy”. Then there were the earthquakes. Poor Buster is not the same. Oh, he’s still playful and confident when he’s in his territory; but put him in the car and he crouches in fear on the back floor, missing all the scenery.
Seriously handicapped by his own fear, he walks with his tail and head down during our park walks and runs the other way if a new friend runs over to say “hello”. Out of his comfort zone, he’s paralyzed. He suffers from what I call the comfort zone syndrome.
I receive bad news from the doctor, a husband leaves after thirty years, or one of my children ends up in jail, and I hide behind closed blinds, paralyzed by fear. I wonder where You are and why You aren’t rescuing me from such pain.
Like Buster, I must look pathetic as I crouch in fear on the back floor during these times. I see no scenery – no possibilities beyond my pain. I see only dust balls of fear.
I’m tired of my fear keeping me from being useful to You, Lord. And I’m ashamed. I’ve shown an obvious lack of trust in Your character and in Your words: “Fear not for I am with you always.” I’m ready to jump into life with both feet, Lord – unencumbered by the spirit of fear. I’m tired of slowly dying from the comfort zone syndrome.
Forgive my fear, Lord, and help me jump up to the window of faith. Let me see the scenery! More than anything, let me see YOU!
(c) 1989-2009 April Lorier