Fear not.

Aside from the few guilty pleasures of Clemence Dane and Oswald Chambers, my literature life lately is all about allegory. I have fallen in love with Hannah Hurnard's "Hinds' Feet on High Places" all over again, and I'll be honest with you, I am agitated beyond belief in a search for "Pilgrim's Progress." I moved down here without realizing the only copy I've ever had my hands on is my mother's.
There are woes I discover daily to pulling up roots and leaving those you love. My library is tiny and lacking in comparison to that which I left behind; that is what I learned today as I ached for John Bunyan's words.

I miss a lot of things.

And it's such a perpetual state that I find myself in, this missing, that I worry I'll never be rid of it. I am trying to get over that though. This year I have found two phrases to live by, and one of them is

Fear not. 

I'm tired of being afraid of everything.
I drove to school early the other morning, the sun had just come up. The sunrise is different here. The colors are missing from it, the violets and lavenders and roses and oranges and periwinkles. This one was amazing though, even with a lack of boldness. It was like the ocean had erupted into the sky, with huge waves crashing against the hills and gold light spilling everywhere with a luster I'd never seen. Pale blues and greys and I swear, I don't think those clouds were clouds.
It looked so much like the sea that I began to cry.
And then, against my usual inclination, I began to apologize to God instead of thanking Him. I apologized for everything I was afraid of. And though my drive is only fifteen minutes long, my list could have filled pages and with my bitterness written across the margins too. I am afraid of a lot of things.
After my profuse apologies, I begged the Carpenter to help me shrug off those fears this year.

It's almost too perfect, beginning 2014 with Much-Afraid in my hands, and knowing it will end with Grace and Glory. Yearning for Christian and his story, and sure I will find a beautiful copy of my own by December.

I claim this year.

I claim it as a year for overcoming and for firsts.