Why did I feel such – dare I say it – dread?
A trip to Europe with two family members I love, to see another family member I love, should spark anticipation and excitement. Yet I did not feel excited.
Having scheduled the trip for the first week of November, I felt I’d goofed as to timing. Having recruited a sister and daughter to travel with me, I felt inadequate to lead the team.
Daughter Amanda, a fluent French-speaker living in Belgium for a semester, could guide the rest of us around Brussels. Ah, but other aspects of the itinerary intimidated me.
To begin, the three of us planned to depart from different airports and rendezvous in Atlanta. What if, due to a delayed flight, someone missed the overseas connection?
Landing in Paris, we would travel immediately by train to our next destination. With our tickets already purchased, what if we missed the train?
Indeed, we planned to spend lots of time on trains, both within and between cities. Returning by night from Brussels to Paris, luggage in tow, we had to change trains twice, then walk a couple of blocks to the hotel. Afterward, we’d sightsee in Paris for two days, getting place to place by metro with me playing tour guide.
“Karen and Megan are intelligent, resourceful women,” I told myself. “All working together, we’ll do fine.”
Yet, each of their husbands had expressed uneasiness about his wife’s going overseas for a week. “Don’t get separated. Don’t get abducted,” one husband advised.
The instigator of the venture, I felt responsible for us all.
Further, I felt remiss for leaving the country the week of the Presidential election. Even after voting absentee, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going AWOL. That feeling intensified when a white supremacist group planned a rally in my town the same week.
“How dreadful!” I thought. “I need to stay here and do something!”
The weather forecast for Brussels and Paris promised highs in the 40s, lows in the 30s and rain, rain, rain. Even weather.com seemed to admonish, “Just stay home.”
Feeling silly for feeling such dread, I tried for weeks to ignore my feelings. Finally, I faced them. I listed everything prompting my anxiety. Then I asked, “Lord, what do you want to say to me about this trip?”
Shortly afterward, a friend sent me an e-mail in which she spoke of the trip as a time of “hilarity.” Instantly, that word lodged in my spirit.
The next day, when I mentioned the trip to another friend, she said, “Go enjoy Sabbath.” That admonition also lodged deep within me.
Through two friends who didn’t know about my misgivings, God told me his intentions for our trip. As I received what he said, my feelings changed radically. I drove to the airport expecting hilarity, expecting Sabbath. For the entire eight-day trip, I experienced both.
One night long ago, a boy named Samuel kept thinking he heard Eli the priest calling him. Three times, Samuel acted on what he thought, only to be told Eli hadn’t called. Finally, after Eli suggested the voice might be God’s, Samuel said, “Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.”
Originally, Samuel’s thoughts weren’t accurate. Yet if Samuel hadn’t acknowledged what he thought, he would have missed hearing God.
Before our trip, my feelings weren’t accurate. Yet if I hadn’t acknowledged my feelings, I would have missed hearing God.
Please don’t wait until you’re going overseas. Whenever implausible thoughts or feelings persist, quit stifling them. Instead, dare to admit them. Dare to ask, “Lord, what do you say about this?”
. . . . . . .
A trip to Europe with two family members I love, to see another family member I love, should spark anticipation and excitement. Yet I did not feel excited.
Having scheduled the trip for the first week of November, I felt I’d goofed as to timing. Having recruited a sister and daughter to travel with me, I felt inadequate to lead the team.
Daughter Amanda, a fluent French-speaker living in Belgium for a semester, could guide the rest of us around Brussels. Ah, but other aspects of the itinerary intimidated me.
To begin, the three of us planned to depart from different airports and rendezvous in Atlanta. What if, due to a delayed flight, someone missed the overseas connection?
Landing in Paris, we would travel immediately by train to our next destination. With our tickets already purchased, what if we missed the train?
Indeed, we planned to spend lots of time on trains, both within and between cities. Returning by night from Brussels to Paris, luggage in tow, we had to change trains twice, then walk a couple of blocks to the hotel. Afterward, we’d sightsee in Paris for two days, getting place to place by metro with me playing tour guide.
“Karen and Megan are intelligent, resourceful women,” I told myself. “All working together, we’ll do fine.”
Yet, each of their husbands had expressed uneasiness about his wife’s going overseas for a week. “Don’t get separated. Don’t get abducted,” one husband advised.
The instigator of the venture, I felt responsible for us all.
Further, I felt remiss for leaving the country the week of the Presidential election. Even after voting absentee, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going AWOL. That feeling intensified when a white supremacist group planned a rally in my town the same week.
“How dreadful!” I thought. “I need to stay here and do something!”
The weather forecast for Brussels and Paris promised highs in the 40s, lows in the 30s and rain, rain, rain. Even weather.com seemed to admonish, “Just stay home.”
Feeling silly for feeling such dread, I tried for weeks to ignore my feelings. Finally, I faced them. I listed everything prompting my anxiety. Then I asked, “Lord, what do you want to say to me about this trip?”
Shortly afterward, a friend sent me an e-mail in which she spoke of the trip as a time of “hilarity.” Instantly, that word lodged in my spirit.
The next day, when I mentioned the trip to another friend, she said, “Go enjoy Sabbath.” That admonition also lodged deep within me.
Through two friends who didn’t know about my misgivings, God told me his intentions for our trip. As I received what he said, my feelings changed radically. I drove to the airport expecting hilarity, expecting Sabbath. For the entire eight-day trip, I experienced both.
One night long ago, a boy named Samuel kept thinking he heard Eli the priest calling him. Three times, Samuel acted on what he thought, only to be told Eli hadn’t called. Finally, after Eli suggested the voice might be God’s, Samuel said, “Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.”
Originally, Samuel’s thoughts weren’t accurate. Yet if Samuel hadn’t acknowledged what he thought, he would have missed hearing God.
Before our trip, my feelings weren’t accurate. Yet if I hadn’t acknowledged my feelings, I would have missed hearing God.
Please don’t wait until you’re going overseas. Whenever implausible thoughts or feelings persist, quit stifling them. Instead, dare to admit them. Dare to ask, “Lord, what do you say about this?”
. . . . . . .
1 Samuel 3:9 NIV
© 2008, Deborah P. Brunt. All rights reserved.
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