The voice that roared

I feel the monster lurking in the corner. It’s over there, rubbing its grimy hands together, watching and waiting. It knows that if it patiently waits me out, I might give up. I have many times before. I would say, “Screw it. Let the monster come. No matter how hard it attacks, at least I’ll have a moment to rest." Each time, that monster won the fight and grew stronger. It knew that if I let my guard down for just a moment to rest my eyes, it would win again. Then a soft voice whispers, “One of these days, you won’t make it. That monster will win indefinitely. Then what’s all of this for?”

Then the voice whispers again, “Let’s take the fight out of the monster. Let’s turn on the light and call its bluff. I guarantee it’s not as big as it seems in the dark.”

I say, “I’m scared. "The voice says, “Do it anyway. The alternative is that you lose everything if you don’t.”

So, I get up shakily. Slowly, ever so slowly, I begin to tiptoe toward the light, desperately and vigilantly searching for any indication that the monster is coming. Halfway there, I think, Nope. I can’t do it. I’m too scared. Then the voice says, “You’ve come so far. Don’t give up now!”As I reach the light switch, I frantically feel around for it. I find it, and sweet relief momentarily sweeps over me. I flip that switch, and light floods the room. I’m scared all over again. I’m disoriented, and I think, This is going to be harder to face than I thought. Then I see it.

The monster and I lock eyes.

To my surprise, the monster isn’t nearly as big as I had imagined. Yes, it exists, and yes, it’s terrifying. But the longer I stare it down, the more it shrinks in the corner. Then I hear my own voice say, “I see you, and you don’t get to scare me anymore. I know you’ll always lurk in the corner, but in this moment, you’ve lost your power. I’m keeping these lights on now! I’ll see you in my peripheral vision, reminding me how close you are if I don’t stay vigilant.”

Some days, I simply move about my day, and that monster gets antsy. It starts making noise. Some days, I ignore it, but the longer I pretend it isn’t there, the louder it gets. Then I realize I can’t ignore it anymore, and I hear my own voice roar, “You don’t get to make noise anymore!” The louder I roar, the quieter the monster gets. It seems less tenacious than it used to be. Now, there are longer moments of peace in between. It still occasionally pipes up, but it’s learning its place. We will always coexist. We will always be enemies. I used to desperately want to get rid of it completely. But now I know it serves a purpose. Occasionally, I’ll look over, and it will remind me of the miracle that I get to live in the light every day. I will never let my guard down again. By God’s grace, I will keep choosing the light and the monster will never regain its power.