Fear built up in her chest to a point where she felt so overwhelmed with feelings of guilt, worry, and frustration. She lay on her umber brown wooden floor, in her what initially seemed warm, but was now cold and lifeless studio. The sun shone through the large windows, gently laying itself comfortably on her walls, the exposed brick walls kindly welcoming its arrival, contrasting with the black, mustard yellow and white furniture, giving her home an eerie yet, cordial feel.

There she lay, on cold floor, with all she’d worked for around her; yet it all didn’t matter because the constant fear of failure, and the continuous need to compare herself to every single person her age, made her believe that there was always something more to be doing; that she wasn’t enough and she had already made a mess of her life. Staring up at the white ceiling she could feel the pace of her heart quicking and, forever questioned why she made the move to live here, literally in the middle of nowhere. She had no friends here, neither did any of her family live here; she didn’t have community here. And although the location was perfect and the job was a once in a lifetime opportunity, it didn’t drown out the blood rushing through her ears, or the worry that she’d made a huge mistake.

“I really need to stop doubting myself. This is a process, it’s a marathon, not a sprint,” she whispers to herself, her small voice carrying through the apartment.  Fear always somehow brought her back to either sitting on her couch, laying on the floor or curled up in her bed – today, the place it had chosen was the floor. Not for any particular reason, because fear doesn’t give you a reason; but maybe the floor was the place to choose today because somewhere deep within her she felt the need to be grounded, to feel connected to the earth. Choosing the floor meant reminding herself that life is a battlefield, and even though she must plant and root herself; she must learn to be still. She must also, fight and stand upright, even when it’s hard. Even when she was unsure of why she felt as she did when worry builds up within her – she must ask questions, she must keep moving no matter how much fear is within her; because fear is not the final destination, it does not get a say in her life.

“What’s that bible verse that R, always reminds me of?” She thinks to herself, raking through the storage boxes in her mind, she finally finds it, “‘All go to one place. All come from dust, and all return to dust.’ Ecclesiastes 2 verse 20.” As morbid as it may seem and sound to others, it was the one verse that gave her reassurance that what she was doing in this life was worthwhile. It wasn’t and isn’t about herself, it’s about loving others where they are, loving herself where she is and pushing forward, showing up, even when it’s hard or hurts to do so.

Back, to her wooden floors, her heart begins to slow down; feeling at home in her mind, finding peace and sifting through her thoughts she feels herself coming back to the present. Tuning into the sounds of her environment, she hears the rain hitting on her windows. Slowly sitting up, she smiles to herself, “thank you, Jesus.”

Peeling herself from the floor, she moves herself to the kitchen counter, turns the kettle on, taking the coffee from the cupboard and pours part of its content into her Chemex filter. Patiently waiting for the kettle to boil, she pours the freshly boiled water over the coffee and settles into routine. Reminding, and reassuring herself that as she goes through this new chapter, this new season;  as coffee is initially dry and of no use, water is poured over it, and brings out its flavour, gives it a new purpose; so is our heavenly Father doing to her. She is coffee, she is earth and from her, water will be poured, new life will grow and be fed. And with this reminder,  whilst waiting for her dark roast to brew she repeats to herself,

“Fear doesn’t have a place here. I won’t let fear plant itself where I am building a home.”

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