It's not always a good thing...

I've got what I like to think of as a "high-functioning imagination". Or what it really is, is an "overactive imagination". Most of the time it's great- I can think of funny scenarios, write things on a whim, come up with fun stuff for kid's church... But then there are times, like at 2:39am on a Saturday morning, when my overactive imagination betrays me. Housesitting for a friend in their massive house, every creak is suddenly ominous and threatening. Any tiny sound which is probably nothing is a menacing voice in the dark. Blurry eyes means I don't see the nightlight I left on in the bathroom shining through under my door. Nights like these I absolutely and completely resent my imagination.

Nothing awful has happened to me since I was a kid, yet I still feel haunted by insecurities. My wonderful boyfriend is sweet enough to come over now, at 2:47am, after leaving the post-swing diner because I'm too big of a baby to be in the house alone. I'll probably plead for him to watch TV with me until I fall asleep on the couch or something.

I'm embarrassed to admit that when I get this freaked out there's little that can make me feel better outside of someone else being around. Being on the phone with a friend/boy is nice, but it still doesn't assuage the paranoia that's risen within me- "Yeah but what IF something DOES happen? No one is still here". It resonates in me, mocking me at being a 25 year old infant. I know that God has not given us a spirit of fear. I know that God's plans are perfect. I know there are many different verses I could read. But it still just doesn't seem like enough. I still feel like I need my hand held through the night.

Maybe someday I'll get over this. Maybe someday I'll finally have the peace knowing that all the doors are locked and I am safe. Maybe someday I'll actually feel safe somewhere.