On May 9th, 1980 the Sunshine Skyway Bridge in Tampa Florida was struck by a cargo ship collapsing the middle section of the bridge and sending 35 people plunging to their death. I remember reading about the horrific accident in the paper.
Two years later on the way to a vacation in Captiva Island, forgetting about the accident, I drove the I-275 route taking me over Skyway. As I neared the top of the southbound span I looked over to my right and saw the gaping hole where the bridge was ripped in two—where the original southbound lane once stood. What my eyes abruptly took in pulsed terror though my veins threatening to choke off my air supply. I nearly had a full-blown panic attack right there.
After that incident for years I had reoccurring nightmares of coming to the top of an exorbitantly high bridge and it dropping off, having no descending side.
To this day one of my biggest angst is driving across tall bridges. I can ride over them as a passenger, no problem but I’m terrified to drive over them myself.
When I get asked, “What do you fear most?” I usually tell the bridge story. It’s the easiest to confess because I know the narrative, I know where the fear originates.
It’s permissible because it’s not personal. It’s not about me.
But if you want the gut honest truth I have other fears that are personal that I don’t like to talk about.
One of those being, sometimes I fear I’m not good enough.
Not a good enough writer. Not a good enough speaker. Not a good enough teacher, wife, daughter-in-law, cook, tennis partner, friend…
Not good enough.
Fears like this aren’t as easy to admit. Like the bridge, there’s a story behind it, however sometimes the tale, the when and why, isn’t so easy to figure out. And like the bridge it usually comes from something that got broken. A traumatic hurt to the heart.
A broken childhood.
A broken parent.
Perhaps a broken something that never had the chance to properly heal.
A wound we feel, one that aches. But one we cannot find or locate it’s place of origin. So we fear it. We fear its mystery and are paralyzed in its bondage.
We may not know what led us to this place of dread but God does. And I believe with in my heart, all our fears are personal to Him.
I also believe He wants to bridge the gap between our fear and faith and heal those broken spaces—shinning a light on our dark places, exposing them for what they are.
In her new book Fear Fighting (Awaking courage to overcome your fears) my friend and author Kelly Balarie reminds us of the truth that living with fear doesn’t have to be the end of our story. We have a God who draws close to whisper, Fear not for I am with you wherever you go.
Through her personal experiences Kelly shows us how to cultivate unstoppable faith—the kind that ushers in lasting peace. Discover how to replace your worry with God’s
Looking forward, pressing on and seeking God in every bump, twist and bridge on the road…