When I was a little girl, my mother developed a “secret code” for anyone who might have to pick me up from school instead of her. This was at the height of the “stranger danger” period, and it reassured her to know that there was a plan. The whole idea freaked me out. I was an anxious child to begin with, so the thought of having to remember to ask for a code in order to not be kidnapped was just something else to strike fear into my kindergarten heart. So my mom did what she knew best — she used the Bible to assuage my fears. She made the code a bible verse that said, “Be bold and strong. Banish fear and doubt. Remember that the Lord your God is with you always.” That’s Joshua 1:9, for anyone who wants to look it up.

That was our family code for years, and we did have to use it a few times. In the days before cell phones and uber, it was more difficult to keep in touch with your kids. I remember a yellow cab showing up as I got off the camp bus one summer. The driver had my name on a card, but I wouldn’t get in until he recited the verse to me. I spent the entire 10 minute ride home clutching my backpack and silently repeating the verse, trying to be brave and not cry.

The topic of fear and courage has come up a lot lately in my world. Most of the time, I don’t consider myself particularly brave, because I am anxious and afraid of many things — superficial and not so much. I struggle to trust. I am afraid of being judged. I am afraid of being seen. I am afraid of my past…and my future.

And I’m finding that, now that my religious beliefs have changed as well, I’m forced to look differently….more honestly….at fear, courage, strength, etc.

That. Is. Terrifying.

As I write this, I’m running my hand over my newly-bald head, feeling both frustration and relief, and strangely, braver than I’ve felt in a long time.

Why am I bald?

Welp, the short answer is that I’m sick again. Still? I never know how to categorize it. Because of my time at ground zero on and after 9/11, I live with several chronic health issues, including SLE, a form of lupus that, in my case, has a specific mutation that makes it especially grumpy. And right now, it’s VERY grumpy.

Like, I ended up in the hospital earlier this week grumpy.

Like, I need immunosuppressive therapy to beat it into submission grumpy.

Like, I now have no hair because it’s a total asshole of a disease grumpy.

And it scares me.

It all scares me.

How sick will I get this time? Will I respond to treatment? What will people think? Will people stare at my bald head and make assumptions that are most likely incorrect? How will this impact me emotionally? Mentally?

Spiritually?

My old mantra of “Be bold and strong, banish fear and doubt, remember the Lord your God is with you always” just doesn’t fit any more. That isn’t my religion…isn’t my belief. So how can I be bold and strong, when I’m alone and scared?

Dumbass.

My brain is a dumbass.

I’m not alone. Not by a longshot.

Last night, I sat in a worship associates meeting at my beloved UU church, and knew I wasn’t alone.

I listened to their stories, their check-ins, and knew that if/when I am brave enough to speak, that my words will be held.

I left the meeting knowing that my dear pastor has my back, and that she holds the pieces of my story she knows not only in confidence, but in love.

I woke to a text from a fellow UU who saw me, fresh out of the hospital at my polling place, checking in to see how I was feeling.

I am not alone.

In that place, I have found a home for my heart unlike anything I could have ever dreamed. A home I didn’t know I was longing for. In that place, I have found a community that can help me to be bold and strong, to banish fear and doubt — because I know that they are going to be right there with me, even when I am afraid.

I feel like hell. But I am profoundly, deeply, incomprehensibly grateful — and that makes me just a little more brave than before.