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INTRODUCTION

^I L6H 6C 688^9:CI Never say “Oops!” Always say “Ah, interesting!”

—ANONYMOUS

I

here are probably thousands of reasons why fear imbeds itself into people’s hearts: traumatic moments in childhood, years of unresolved anger and resentment, a monstrous lack of grace and forgiveness toward self and others, honest-togoodness physical overload, a personality that’s more stressed out than serene, a shredded self-esteem, and possibly the Pillsbury Doughboy. I started unraveling the roots of my own fears . . . uh . . . by accident.

My daughter Meghan had begun Western-style horsebackriding lessons as an extended therapy for a learning disability.

Imagine a therapist discussing possible programs with a then ten-year-old: “You’re having trouble reading, so how about horseriding lessons?” Meghan: “Uh . . . cool!” Personality note: My

daughter is not a bat-out-of-you-know-where kind of kid. She’s more of a going-to-start-sorta-slow child. Cautious yet curious, that’s my girl.

This whole riding-something-huger-than-you was fairly stressful, but in a good way. And the typical good-stress things happened: the horse shook his head, the horse bent down to eat grass, and the horse swished some flies off its rump.

Until one day. Through a freak set of circumstances, Megh fell off at almost a gallop and landed hard, rolling in the dirt. By the time we reached her, her face was covered in blood, and her forehead had a huge (OK, huge to me) gash just above her left eye. It took seven whole stitches to close it up. Megh survived the experience fine. And I had to be revived only twice, using the medically sound method of drinking large amounts of Diet Coke provided by the caring ER staff.

That night my sleepless, fretful, caffeine-soaked mind replayed the mishap incessantly and in nauseating detail, often with more deadly results. So it was no surprise that by morning I was, to use the technical term, a basket case. (Question: Where did that phrase come from? I think it should be padded cell case or loony tune case or funny farm case or something more etymologically appropriate.) I was a trauma mama, a wigged-out woman, eeking and freaking . . . you get my drift.

Needing to pull myself together, I set out for a walk in the fresh autumn sunshine. Halfway through yet another poor-me prayer, a thought stopped me in my well-worn gym shoes.

You are living in the what-ifs, Marcy, it said. Stop that.

Perfect, I thought. Wait until I tell my husband I’m on my way to my own little padded cell, for sure. OK, fine. I’m going wacko—so let’s just hitch up the horses and go in style.

Then I thought back a real reply: What should I do about the what-ifs?

Say the what-is, came the response. &' H86G:9 H^AAN

The what-is?! I screamed—in my head (I wasn’t quite bonkers yet). What are you talking about? My daughter could have been killed!

The thought continued, What is the reality of this moment?

OK. Grumble . . . grumble. The reality is that Meghan is fine.

The horse had bucked to the side, in fact, to avoid her. Horses are smart like that. Besides the cut on her head and a dirtburn down her face, there were no other injuries or trauma at all, puzzling even the doctors. Pause. Somehow, I reluctantly continued (careful to keep the conversation inside my head), whether I saw it at the time, accept it now or not, God was and is still in charge. And whether I feel it or not, God loves Meghan . . . and he loves me.

Tears of frustration scalded my cheeks. Great! Now the neighbors will think I’ve lost my mind.

Say it out loud, came another thought.

Grrrr.

Yet as I spit out the what-is phrases under my breath, through free-flowing tears and dripping nose, I realized that my whole world had revolved—for as long as I could remember—around the what-ifs. What if I get sick when I travel? (even though I rarely do).

What if I freak out on a plane? (even though I never have). What if my husband leaves me? (even though there were days). What if that weird pain is cancer? . . . What if I die—or worse? . . . What if something happens to Meghan? . . . What if I don’t have any more children? . . .What if we lose everything?

The what-ifs had sucked the very life out of me, leaving a shame-filled, self-hating corpse of a Christian. I was breathing, but it was only to allow me to exist. I had quit living years ago.

What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner.

—SIDONIE GABRIELLE COLLETTE ^I L6H 6C 688^9:CI &(

This book comes from the realization that the what-ifs have held absolute (or near-absolute) power over my life. In case there’s a test at the end, here’s the CliffsNotes version: The whatifs are the vehicle through which fear enters the mind. As fear settles in, it can become a stronghold that cripples and destroys the soul. So identifying from whence the what-ifs come is the first step. Then we can practice ways to wake up to our putrid, lie-filled thought processes. After that, we replace those lies with the truths of God’s reality and love—the what-is’s—which I’ve decided are the opposite of the what-ifs: What is the reality of the moment? . . . What is the truth about God and me? . . . What is the ultimate victory? In this way, I can pinpoint the enemy’s activity and his destructive plan, even in microscopic increments within my immediate circumstance.

It’s that simple . . . and that complex. By using the Scriptures, tips, ideas, and exercises in this book, perhaps you or someone you love can be freed from the tyranny of fear, guilt, depression, and self-hatred. I’m not totally finished with the battle; perhaps I’ll never be. But I have seen that in Jesus I am perfectly and completely loved, regardless of whether I’m brave or afraid, whole or sadly lacking. That faith makes freedom a possibility and joy more than a dishwashing liquid. It’s the hope of Christ enmeshed in me, in the most wonderful way imaginable!

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MEDS

Meditate on Isaiah 42:9: “See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you.”

The notion of what-is quickly caught on with my family and friends—which means that the all-too-revealing and grammatically challenged question “What is the what-is of &) H86G:9 H^AAN

this?” now follows me everywhere. My husband reminds me of it almost daily (God bless him). My daughter brings it up when I’m stressed (isn’t she precious?). My neighbor has begun to use it when I whine. Sigh . . . I’ve become my own object lesson.

SOOTHING >CIGDHE:8I>DC Accidental Education P. J. O’Rourke said, “Everybody in fifteenth-century Spain was wrong about where China was and as a result, Columbus discovered Caribbean vacations.”1 Have you ever discovered anything by accident? while getting lost looking for a place? while cooking? while making something?

Was it a good or bad discovery?

Why do you say that?

What famous “learning accidents” do you know of from history? (The invention of the telephone is one.)

How can you begin today to look at your mistakes as learning accidents, at least in front of your spouse and friends?

In this book introduction, I’m supposed to sound inspiring and profound, so here goes: A journey is set before you— although you won’t have to contend with airline delays, money exchanges, obnoxious foreign waiters, or weird languages.

This journey is probably worse. Just kidding! At least you’ll be able to stay near your own bathroom and drink cold Diet Coke or hot coffee. And we’ll be venturing into something thicker and possibly denser than the thickest and densest jungle—our minds! (Humor-filled from the beginning, this book!) As a result of this journey, you may begin a change that is at the core of your being, one that will alter your thinking, your behavior, and your future. What a trip! Or at least you’ll be thinking of others who should read this book and thus venture and be altered. How about that for a bargain? ^I L6H 6C 688^9:CI &*

Strangely enough, this is the past that somebody in the future is longing to go back to.

—ASHLEIGH BRILLIANT

I pray that you enjoy this book and that maybe you even read it more than once. I would love it if you laughed a lot and cried a time or two—laughter and tears are powerful healing tools.

But most of all, I really want you to take the bits of truth you find, use any that are relevant, and realize that God is forever near (Psalm 119:151), surrounding you (Psalm 32:7), loving you (1 John 3:1), and healing you (Psalm 147:3)—whether you feel it or not.

SOOTHING >CIGDHE:8I>DC What’s Your Goal?

What do you want to gain from this book?

Jot it down on an index card or inside the cover (if you dare).

If you’re the one who’s fearful: Pray that God will help you discover the nuggets that will most help you.

If you’re reading because of a friend: Pray that your friend will feel God in a very real way as you love on him or her in Jesus’ name.

SWEATLESS EXERCISE

The Dreaded Journal Activity Buy a journal or three-ring binder or swipe one from your kids or local neighborhood children. Millions of dollars are wasted every year on threering notebooks and lined paper that school children supposedly need but never use. Be bold! You’re reclaiming valuable resources like vinyl and wood pulp in the form of uncool school supplies.

&+ H86G:9 H^AAN

There will be numerous opportunities to write down thoughts and feelings, make lists, and even create something. Keep track of your thoughts and insights in detail—they will come in handy if you end up on Oprah someday.

Mae West once said, “Keep a diary, and some day it’ll keep you.” (My advice is to negotiate a book deal before going on the talk show.)

You can also write on sticky notes (one of my personal favorite journaling techniques of all time) and then stick them—in a sort of order—on the lined paper in the notebook. Don’t forget to date the notes so you can make sense of them later when you need to reference a great thought for your book.

If you tend toward geekishness, feel free to make notes in your fancypants, high-tech PDA, which I do not have because my husband thinks I can’t run one. That’s not true, of course—just because I am unable to run an MP3 player without the aid of my twelve-year-old doesn’t mean that I won’t be able to run a PDA. OK, maybe it does mean that. But I ask you, gentle reader, shouldn’t I be given the chance to prove my ineptitude? But I digress. Whatever suits you is great. Do the exercises whenever possible to get your money’s worth out of all these words. And don’t worry, I’ll whine about this again.

^I L6H 6C 688^9:CI &,

Q

PH

S

These Potentially Helpful Questions are for further self-reflection or small-group discussion. The first three are at the end of each chapter, repeated again and again and again . . .

1. Grab your notebook and record one thought about this chapter, one positive thing that happened today, one Scripture that you like, and one way that God has blessed you.

2. What struck you as interesting or unusual in this chapter? Why?

3. Choose one Scripture that you will try to memorize. Write it down.

4. Have you ever gone horseback riding? Describe the experience.

5. What made you want to read this book?

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