Sitting with our coffee the other morning, looking out over the hillside below, I finally said it out loud. “I’m scared about my knee replacement surgery.”

From what I’ve learned, there’s good reason to be at least a little scared. Of the surgery itself, (think saws cutting through bones) not to mention the sometimes rough road to recovery. The work required to rehab even though it’s painful, to regain mobility, range of motion, strength and stamina are nothing to sneeze at.

Up until now however, I’ve banked on all the other things I’m feeling about it: That while not looking forward to it, I’m glad I’m getting it done while I’m still “young”. That I’m grateful for the clarity about my decision to proceed, and for a loving guy to walk me through it, literally and figuratively. That I’m committed to taking the pain meds until I don’t need them, and confident that I’ll be better off for having it done.

Heck yeah. Let’s do this thing.

But afraid? Scared? I haven’t wanted to think about my fear, face it, or feel it. Until that morning on the hillside with the sun cresting the ridge. “I’m scared about my knee replacement surgery.” I couldn’t believe how good it felt to finally say those words out loud. To myself, and to the man I trust with my whole heart, and now with my soon-to-be new knee. Come to find out that naming it out loud actually took some of the fear out of it.

There’s a children’s book that our daughter reads to our grandson. It’s about courage and being brave and how we can’t be those things without first being scared. Fear, it turns out, is the doorway to courage. Being scared is the first step to bravery.

Deciding to get a new knee feels like a brave choice. And being scared is part of the bargain.

My fear had been there all along, quietly waiting for me to finally look her in the face and call her by name, knowing that once I did, I could get on with being brave. I won’t be surprised if she rides shotgun with me for a while, as I suspect that I’ll need to continue to be courageous even when I’d rather not. Thankfully, fear will be there to help me out.