Worst Nightmares
I’ve never really been into Halloween. Of course, I’ll dress up in coordinating family costumes to receive our fair share of candy from fall festivals. I appreciate the full spectrum of pumpkin-flavored treat (even savory pumpkin-stuffed pasta shells). I take my kids on hayrides, paint pumpkins in the front yard, and buy candy apples no one will be able to bite into.
Still, I skip out on the spooky costumes and haunted houses. I take a different route to my kids’ school to avoid the lawn décor that creep me out. I scroll past the ghost-themed kids' shows on Disney+.
It’s not that I have a moral quandary with the holiday, I just don’t feel the draw to feel more afraid. I have enough fears without adding creepy clowns, howling ghouls, and beguiling witches. I don’t need more nightmares because my worst nightmares are often inside my own head.
When I drift off to sleep each night, my own haunted thoughts begin to play out. These aren’t scenes from slashers or exorcism movies. I don’t recall a jump scare from a Stephen King movie.
No, instead, I watch a more horrifying movie—a highlight reel of my top failures:
That time I made a stupid comment to a friend that ruined our relationship.
That time I mishandled a freelance situation and lost a big client.
That time I lied to my boss, and he never found out.
That time I spoke bitterly cruel words to my husband.
The (many) times I have lost my temper when parenting my children.
The list can go on and on. My heart begins racing faster than in any scary movie I watch. I don’t need crimson zombie hands reaching out for me when the regrets in my own mind groan for attention.
These hauntings tell me: I am a failure. I am a mistake. I am hopeless. I have everything to fear because of who I am.
I’m tempted to sink deeper into the plot, to resign myself to my hopeless fate. But just like the film heroine points a flashlight into the darkest corner of the haunted home—revealing the truth and setting its prisoners free—the Spirit in me begins to shine truth on the darkest corners of my mind. These truths set me free from my worst nightmares.
There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ.
You don’t have to fear because you are God’s child.
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
No mistake can separate you from God’s love.
The hope of the gospel demolishes every lie the Enemy tells me about who I am. When he brings up another frightful memory, I can hold it up against what I know about who God is and who he has declared me to be. “We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5).
Friend, we don’t have to be haunted by our past mistakes or future worries. When we come face-to-face with our greatest fears, “What then shall we say to these things?” What do we say to the worrisome what-ifs, grievous sins, and shameful regrets? “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). No horrifying moments or fearful outcomes the Enemy throws at us can ultimately defeat us. “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37). Nothing can separate us from the love of Christ—neither our past mistakes nor our future ones.
Every night, when I’m again faced with my worst nightmares, I can rewrite the script in my head. I can acknowledge that these scenes are often true. I’ve failed, either due to my sin or to my own limitations. However, those moments are not the truest thing about me.
Rather than wallow in these imperfections or try to excuse them, I can bring them to the feet of Jesus. I can surrender all my haunted thoughts. Every regret. Every failure. Every anxiety. And I can let his perfect love cast out all my fears. I can accept his unconditional love for me and see myself as he sees me—his beloved daughter.
I can allow him to take the horror film in my head and turn it into one of hope.
Spiders and zombies will always give me the creeps, but I do not have to remain in fear and shame over my past mistakes. I can leave behind the darkness of my worst nightmares and live in the light of Christ’s perfect love.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Haunted".