The Blog Of Dysfunction

One of my friends had a narrow shave with the Reaper’s scythe sometime ago. He wrote this in his mail explaining the accident.

Fear gripped me only after I realized I had survived the accident. Not for a single moment before that. Fear of what I’d do next. Fear of how my parents would react. Fear of how this would further undermine my faith in myself or worse, God. But a disabled life is a chilling thought. God wants to tell me something, he’s been trying for years, but he’s getting the wrong message across every time. I am terrified of myself. I am terrified of this so-called supernatural world which seems to have as much potential to harm me as to save me.

Fear is such a strong emotion, it perhaps is the deepest seated of all emotions, the one that, at the end of it all, decides our actions, makes the choices and calls the shots.

God seems to be in the business of getting across the wrong message to a whole lot of people right from the beginning(refer the old testament). But maybe its not him, after all would it be fair to blame him for the inquisition; the crusades; the jihad; the back biting, mud flinging, and cheap politics in the religious world today? He is a peace loving, benovelent, gracious entity with not a single violent fiber in him right? (Ignore the old testament)

Which brings us back to fear, and from fear to faith. Becasue faith is the only way out of fear. Faith does not abolish fear it replaces it; like tendrils of light sneak in through the window and lighten the room till all dark corners are bright, when you are granted faith it replaces your fears with assuarance. Slowly, gradually, painfully, but it does.

Or so they say.

Faith is not an easy gift to accept, even when granted. It is costly, though given freely; painful, though it removes hurt; and overwhelming, though it liberates.

Fear still has major stakes in my businesses.

What about you?

Schizo