Under my bed? well right now there are lots of framed photos and unframed artwork. There is also a fairly well used heating pad and a stack of Chemical & Engineering News and Science magazines from last year that I still haven’t finished reading (the ones from this year are still in my desk at work….waiting to be read). There’s even a portfolio case filled with my old paintings and drawings, most of which I would never want on display now. I go back and look at them occasionally and they look so amateurish and stilted to me now. Talk about a nightmare!
But all that junk is not really what I’m talking about.
This is kinda odd, but the thing I fear the most, the true monster under my metaphorical bed, is being forgotten, being not-valued.
It’s not one of my day time monsters, it doesn’t haunt me constantly, it’s more one of those things that comes creeping out when I’m alone.
It doesn’t roar at me, or startle me. It sort of snuggles up next to me and just……….ooooooozes fear. It drools puddles of despondency.
My monster whispers to me, in the dark of the night.
“There is a reason why you don’t have children yet. It’s because God doesn’t think you are worthy”
“There is a reason so-and-so didn’t notice that you needed a heart-to-heart talk or some encouragement from them. It’s because YOU DON’T MATTER”
I want to be important. It’s not that I want to be important on a national or worldwide scale, but I just want to be important to the people I love or even just care for.
I want to matter.
Nice innocuous little thing to want, right?
Well not if I let it rule me. Not if I let the need to Matter to others eclipse the love of my husband, my family and my true friends. Not if I let the desire to “matter” get ahead of other, more important things in my life. Like God, and studying His word.
And not if I let it wound me. I am a Child of God. A Daughter of the High King.
How could anyone matter more than that?
So how about you, what lurks under your metaphorical bed?