I guess we’re all afraid of something. Hugh, our kind and tender-hearted boy who has had to face so many fears in his young life, can’t quite get over his fear of mascots. Even mention the word and his heart starts racing. His eyes begin to dart around looking for an escape plan. When it comes to mascots with Hugh, there is no fight or flight adrenaline that takes over. It’s simply flight – he will do anything and everything to get away.

Amelia, on the other hand, is bullish and headstrong. Don’t get in her way. (Aren’t all good Southern girls like this?) She doesn’t seem scared of much. I suspect that if she were ever confronted by a mascot, she would ball up her fist and punch it square in the stomach. Mascots, bugs, snakes, monsters – Amelia will take them on. But don’t put her in a crowded room that is chaotic and loud. Crowds are her fear, and she will cling to her daddy’s leg like a little monkey. When put in this situation, she is usually reduced to tears.

Like I said, I guess we’re all afraid of something.

Me? What am I afraid of (besides frogs and ugly shoes, but that’s another story)? I’m afraid of THE NEXT THING.

I’m not really sure what THE NEXT THING will be, but it’s big. It’s like one of those monsters that lived under your bed when you were a kid. It’s hairy, with big green eyes and yellow fangs. THE NEXT THING likes to sneak up on you when you least expect it, taking you by surprise so that you are constantly in fear of it.

THE NEXT THING, to an adult, looks a lot like failing at a new job, losing a loved one too early, cancer, an incurable disease, divorce, house fire – I could go on and on. THE NEXT THING tricks you, because once it happens and you survive the encounter, you tend to wipe your brow and think to yourself, “I’m glad that’s over. Now I can live my life”. But that’s the tricky part, you see. THE NEXT THING isn’t gone, it’s just waiting under your bed for the next attack. That’s why it is so very, very scary.

THE NEXT THING also makes you live with regret. When Hugh was first diagnosed with Type 1, one of the things I regretted was never taking him to the local cupcake store in our town. I had meant to, but I was usually too busy. I would pass by the store and think, “One day I am going to stop and take the kids in for a surprise cupcake.” But I didn’t, and then it was too late. After Hugh’s diagnosis I would pass that store, and I would berate myself for not taking the kids to the cupcake store when I had the chance. I would end up in tears over that cupcake store. Because I thought it was too late. THE NEXT THING had happened, and we had missed the cupcakes.

I’m tired of living scared of THE NEXT THING. I’m tired of saying, “When the kids are older. When we have more money. When we retire. When I go back to work full-time. When we have more space. When the house is clean.” I’m tired of missing the cupcakes.

Scott and I are cautious by nature. We like to plan and save and wait for the right time to do things. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think God requires us to be responsible stewards for what he has given us. We try really hard to do that. But I also think God doesn’t want us to miss the cupcakes.

I’m not sure how to live a life that’s not scared of THE NEXT THING. But I want to try.

I think I will start by taking the kids to get a cupcake.