A Prison

I've just come to the realization that I've been in a prison. The bars are of my own making, the windowless room, my home. I've let dreams be squashed, opportunities go by and all because I've chosen to listen to the voice of an old friend who hates me. I fear, I fear. I fear I'll never accomplish anything in life, I fear my children won't be able to say one good thing about me, I fear failure as a wife, but most of all I fear that I'll not have anything to lay at my Savior's feet. I let this fear rob me continually, all my life. Joy is fleeting, laughter scarce. Where is the joy in my salvation? I let fear swallow it up and yet, and yet I'm racing toward the tunnel of light, of life. I hear Him calling me, telling me to turn, to look to trust in Him, my Savior, the lover of my soul. I'm hanging on to the hem of His garment, grabbing a fist full and I'm not letting go.