Hi Sweet Friends,
I would like to share with you a topic on which I am a self-proclaimed expert. What makes me an expert? Let me put it to you this way: if fear were a degree, I would have a doctorate. Several. If fear were an Olympic sport, I would sweep the gold, silver, and bronze medals and make my country proud. If fear were money, I would be a trillionaire. If fear were a race horse…, I think you get it. I have had a long-standing relationship with fear. I feel like I have gone through life with my hands out in front of me, squinting and flinching, and my body braced as if life is one big dodge ball game. I hate dodge ball, for obvious reasons. My lack of athleticism as a kid left me hiding behind a braver kid or running to touch a ball and pretending I had been hit and thrown out. The inevitable was obvious; I would be hit. My only recourse was to try to manage and minimize the pain and suffering. Do I keep running and hiding? Or do I take a blow to the kidneys from the giant fifth grader with a mustache and get it over with? I wonder what agent from the dark side invented this tortuous game with human targets. I would like to pay for some counseling sessions for them, if there is enough money left after my own.
The feeling of fear is in my earliest memories. I’m not sure why. The gift of being sensitive to other’s feelings and needs has with it the extreme sensitivity to my own. Or maybe it’s the other way around. The gifting of creativity and imagination carries with it the ability to imagine every scenario and see the danger in it. I was cared for and not placed in danger as a child, yet I don’t remember being without the feeling of needing to protect myself and feel safe. I envied those who played and lived with abandon. I was the purse holder for all of my friends that rode rollercoasters at amusement parks. I tried the rides, but I just couldn’t bear the physical and out-of-control feelings they gave me. I’ve struggled much in my life from a fear of tornadoes, stemming from running to our neighbor’s house in the middle of the night as a child. With no warnings back then, we waited until we were sure we were going to die, and then we ran to the neighbor’s at the height of the storm to hide in their basement. My parents were scared themselves and were loving and protecting us. I clearly remember being a small child sitting in a little chair on a ping pong table and trembling uncontrollably in fear as the adults watched out the little basement window while lightening flashed. I hate that feeling, and yet it is as familiar to me as my own name. Much of my life has been about making sure that I don’t feel that way. The world isn’t safe. My mission has been to protect and manage life so that I, and those I cherish, don’t get hurt.
And it’s not just about physical safety. The need to control my well-being has spilled over into just about every area of life. I still reek of my need for approval and affirmation. I’ve lived a juggling act of trying to protect myself from being rejected or, worse, ignored. What will making good grades in school buy me? How many friends will my being cute or funny get me? What must I do to feel loved and wanted? By everyone? Forever? Trying to manage my world and circumstances to avoid pain and suffering has been an exhaustive pursuit. And may I just add that with every new thing or person that you love comes the opportunity for more hurt and fear. To love anything or anyone is to fear and be pierced by its loss. To love is to hurt. That thought didn’t originate with me. It’s a natural response to living in a broken and cursed world. It’s just that I am no longer living in my natural state, the one I was born into, as a believer in Jesus Christ. Having accepted His salvation, I now live with His life in me and the ability to trust and rest in His care and love for me. He has already provided for my well-being for all eternity. I’m safe forever! I have a place, purpose, and relationship because of what He has given me. It’s not just that it ends well for me, it’s that it never ends. I know that is my reality and truth in my head. How to make it a reality in my feelings is the issue.
I can’t tell you how much time I have spent researching diseases I was sure I was dying from. Y2K nearly put me over the edge. I didn’t know what we were going to eat when the food ran out because Kevin wouldn’t let me buy barrels of grain and a mill. I’m not making fun of those of you who did, I envied you. You see, I’ve been on a constant search for formulas and promises my whole life. I want guarantees that if I do certain things then evil won’t come to me. If we eat certain foods, we will stay healthy. Certain supplements will guarantee long life. Protections around my home like cameras, locks, alarms, and weapons will guarantee that anyone with the intent of harm will never touch us. Safety belts, air bags, helmets, weather radios, sun screen: I can make myself crazy, not to mention broke, “guaranteeing” my safety. I have so desperately longed for the promise that I wouldn’t have loss or suffering. I looked at the suffering of others and hurt for them, but was so thankful it wasn’t me. My desperation to have safety led me to worship it as an idol. I wasn’t aware of purposely making that choice, but our enemy is very clever to disguise our idols as rational, sensible, and necessary. You see, I can invest in all of the above safety measures in dependence on the Lord or in idolatry. It’s not the things or acts that are wrong, just my dependence on them instead of Him. Scripture has been faithful to tell me what to expect in my frantic search for guarantees that life go as I desire. It won’t. Although hard for me to swallow at first, accepting the truth of my reality and God’s grace has changed me. Realizing more and more that this life I’m living isn’t about me has loosened my grip on what I thought I must have or, worse, what is due me.
What are some of the guarantees in God’s Word about suffering? It will come. What does He tell us about our being in control? We’re not. John 16:33 promises us that in this world we will have trouble. 2 Timothy 3:12 says that everyone who lives in Christ will be persecuted in some way. Philippians 1:29 promises that with the privilege of trusting Christ comes the privilege of suffering with Him. I always hoped those promises of suffering were for the missionaries who went to scary places that I was sure God would never call me. I now see that suffering is anything that goes against my will. I will to have my way, to not hurt or be in need, to be happy, to feel safe. Anything that hurts is suffering. Hurt is here and hurt is coming. But don’t despair, we are completely loved and cherished by the only One who is in complete control. Hebrew 2:18 tells us that since Jesus came and suffered as we do, He is able to comfort us in our suffering. Jesus abandoned the temptation to run, to hide, to be spared, to protect Himself, or to exercise His rights as God. For me. For you. He knows. 1 Peter 4:19 reminds us that when we suffer, we are entrusting our souls to a faithful Creator. What beautiful words, “a faithful Creator.” We read with joy of the promises of no more pain, suffering, mourning, or tears in Revelation 21:4. That is our future. Rejoice! But what do I do with all of that in the reality of my today? When the corona virus is ravaging our land. When my routine and comfort places are taken away. When nothing feels safe. When the giant fifth grader has the dodge ball aimed right at me. When the red dot is on my forehead and everything in me yells, “RUN!” Do it. Run. But into the arms of “a faithful Creator.” Run to the side of the One who lived it before you so He could be a faithful Savior and friend when it is your turn. Run to the truth of God’s Word for your reality. Run also to the aid of the hurting, needy, and scared. You have what they need, the love and surety of Christ. Run toward the battle with swords drawn, knowing the battle is God’s. We prepare the horse for battle. Do all you can, knowing that the victory belongs to God (Proverbs 21:31). The King James Version says, “but safety is of the Lord.” Ah, safety. My favorite word. Just as the Israelites had to depend on God for manna every morning, so do we look for and depend on His provision every day. Lamentations 3:23 promises that His love and mercy will never stop.
No amount of worry or bargaining with God will give us a pain-free life. We’re not supposed to live a pain-free life. We share in the sufferings of Christ and show Him to the world by sharing in their sufferings as well. I’ve lost two babies to miscarriage, and God is good. They were always His. We are stewards, not owners. “What do you have that you didn’t receive?” (1 Corinthians 4:7) I’ve had four children, and “The Lord gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!” (Job 1:21) My youngest was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes when he was eight, and “this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3) I feel weak and fragile and afraid, and God says, “I will never leave you;” (Hebrews 13:5) and “Come to Me all of you who are weary and bearing burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Mathew 11:28) I’m afraid there won’t be enough, and “The Lord is not restrained to save by many or by few.” (1 Samuel 14:6) I don’t know how my life on this earth will end, but it will; and to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:8) I’m not just trying to throw scripture at you and say you shouldn’t hurt. I’ve had my heart broken. So have you. Of course, it hurts. But we have to know the truth and use it as a fiery dart against our enemy’s lies. There are reasons we don’t have to run screaming or hide under the table; those promises are the reasons. Fear is an emotion. It is purposeful. It makes us run from snakes and try to live in social order. It is the precursor to bravery. It keeps us alive. We can’t control our emotions, as hard as we try and as badly as we want to. But we can speak truth no matter what our emotions are doing. And we can rest in knowing that all the things that aren’t good in our lives will be used for good for us by a God who is big enough and loves us enough to make it so. (Romans 8:28)
So sweet friends, I would love to tell you the secret formula to not being afraid, but I can’t. I would love to tell you how to self-protect from pain, but you can’t. I would love for it to be true that things will always feel good here on earth when you love Jesus, but they won’t. As author Rachel Jones put it, “We’re not aging. We’re dying.” I can, however, direct you to the Creator, keeper, and lover of our souls. We are dependent on God Almighty for all things every second, and He is a promise keeper. My existence here isn’t about me or the gaping hole in my heart being filled by anyone or anything I will ever find here. God promises that no more tears is coming for those who are in Christ. Until then, share in the sufferings of Christ and love selflessly, give lavishly, be humble and honest, lay down your will for His, and sacrifice for others. This will often look like taking groceries, making a phone call, touching yucky stuff, clipping toenails, speaking up, being quiet, showing up, or staying home. The call will change in every situation. The emotions may or may not be what we want them to be. It’s so hard when they’re not. But they are not our truth. The truth of God’s Word is our truth. I’m fighting with you to live in truth today. You’re not alone. Now, stop touching your face, go wash your hands, and pass the toilet paper.
Leave a Reply