I have lived long enough to be fortunate in that I have identified some of my childhood insanity. Don't get me wrong -- I don't use the term lightly. It's just that some things we think or feel as children just aren't true.
On the one hand (I'm sorry to break this to my brother and sister), we start our early years believing in Santa Claus, who isn't real. That's normal because our parents are complicit in the deception.
But what about those things we weren't taught and ran counter to our early environment. Take our particular fears, for instance.
I can narrow mine to two specific areas: getting lost or getting left. (Bear with my alliteration -- I'm a pastor and it's incurable.) I can recall a childhood vacation in Colorado. I was very young. My big concern was that we might be lost. On a highway. With signs telling us where we were. With a confident, trustworthy dad telling me we were okay. Yet, I was afraid.
Clearer to me was the time -- I was in fifth grade -- when my parents drove 500 miles to attend the funeral of my mom's girlhood best friend. I had palpable fear that they wouldn't return. It so concerned me that, when they arrived home after the 2-3 day trip, my mom came to my classroom before school was out to let me know that they were back.
My home was a picture of stability. My parents loved each other and loved us. We didn't live in doubt that one of our parents would betray the family.
But I was afraid.
I would like to talk a bit about fear this week. So I need your help.
What did you fear when you were growing up? Why? I would love to read your comments.