Fighting Fear with Delight

As I ran through city streets early this morning my mind drifted, wandering down the streets of self-reflection, and Iasked myself yet again:

What is the antidote for fear, for control?

For most of my life, whenever I felt fear, I self-scolded: “You aren’t God! Quit trying to control!” Yet simply admitting “I’m not God,” didn’t squelch fear. And I realized: even Satan admits “God is God, and I am not!”

For years I fought fear the only way I knew how: I memorized “do not worry” and “be anxious for nothing.” I prayed and did Bible studies and asked for accountability.

But with my head full of Bible, I still lived the Fearful life.

And then I realized: I’m going about this all wrong! I can’t just fight against something, I must fight for something! How do I fight for the Fearless life?

And I read: “You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand (Psalm 16:11) . . . . Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart (Psalm 37: 4).”

And I pondered:

Jesus and his disciples . . . came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10).

And I understood: the antidote to Fear is delighting in God.


And I asked myself: How do I delight in God? How do I, like Mary, savor God’s presence above all things?


And I realized: My heart is so sinful that I could pursue delighting in God merely to feel fearless or merely to receive the “desires of my heart.” How do I make savoring God the END, not merely the MEANS to get what I want, to feel good about myself?


I know now:


When I stop fighting fear by “doing things for God”—teaching SS, serving the elderly, witnessing to my neighbor, feeding the sick, memorizing scripture —and fight fear with the “one thing that is needed”—delighting in Christ—I live the fearless life.

Service for God is good, but Service is not GOD.

I cannot live the Fearless life if I don’t fight for delight in the only thing that can satisfy—God.

So, how do I delight in God?

I delight in God  through seeing and savoring his presence in the mundane moments of scrubbing bathtubs and folding laundry, through two miscarriages, through losing my mother and father, through the pain of spiritual abuse, through the pages of scripture, through prayer, through ___________. When my heart focuses on seeing and savoring God—I find him everywhere!

In God’s presence I experience: joy (Isaiah 9:3, Acts 2:28), refreshment (Acts 3:19) rest (Psalm 46:10, Exodus 33:14), help (Psalm 42: 5) and pleasure (Psalm 16:11).  

Problem is—I don’t seek God’s presence. When I’m needing refreshment, rest, help or pleasure, my first inclination is to call a friend, busy myself with work, do a Bible study, witness to my neighbor . . . Sadly, in doing all these good things I miss the most important thing of all--being with God. When I, like Martha, allow distractions—even good distractions—replace seeing and savoring Christ, I do not have joy, I cannot live the Fearless life.

So, I ask you to join me in this life-long journey to delight in Christ alone, to know and experience true and lasting joy, and in doing so, to live the Fearless life.

 (You may be interested in the first two posts in this series: Spirit of Fear and Battling Fear )

Battling Fear

(Read the first and third posts in this series: Spirit of Fear and Battling Fear with Delight)

I’ve never considered myself a fearful person. I’m not afraid of germs—I don’t wash  Isaiah’s paci when it hits the floor, and I don’t ask my boys to wash their hands before dinner (horrors!) I like turbulence on air plane rides (reminds me of a roller coaster), don’t mind heights—I’ve jumped off a telephone pole and climbed/rappelled in Garden of the Gods. I think spiders are interesting (used to pull off the legs of Daddy Long Legs and watch the legless body jump), and I allow my three boys to jump, hop, climb, and generally be a wee bit dangerous when playing.

I’ll admit I’ve got a few “little” fears—the kind we all joke about. I fear snakes, driving in bad weather, mosquitoes, super-hot weather, and not being able to run someday.

And I don’t dream much, can count on one hand the number of “nightmares” I’ve had—during college I used to dream I was running across campus naked, and I’d wake up relieved, heart pounding. And, more recently, I dreamed a disjointed nightmare that included every male who’s ever hurt me—my harsh boss at Four Seasons Restaurant, former co-workers, an old boyfriend, my Dad.

If I go a little deeper, I admit that, like most people in this world, I’ve feared financial struggles, my kids getting sick or hurt, or Jon (my hubby) dying in a car crash.

But, overall—me—I’m not a fearful person! At least compared to “some people I know.”

Yet, Micah’s current battle with fear (see Spirit of Fear) and a recent encounter with someone who knows a couple of my dysfunctional family members, roused fears from the depths of my soul, fears I didn’t realize were there.

And I realized, above all else, I fear what others can do to me or say about me. I do not live: “in God I trust and am not afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?” (Psalm 56:4 NIV).

Specifically, I’m afraid I will not know the security of genuine love, love that seeks what is best for the other person. I’m afraid of my loveless childhood repeating in the present—I’m afraid that my perspectives on life will not believed or valued. I’m afraid that others, like my parents and siblings, will “write me off” as a person not worth knowing.

So I asked myself: How does this fear affect my responses to others?

And I realized: Whenever I meet people who act like my parents—controlling, spiritually fake, lacking genuine care for others—I withdraw emotionally, retreat behind the safety of invisible walls.

And I realized: Even after all the heart-changing I’ve done, I STILL fear what my dysfunctional family members will say about me. I fear my family will subtly describe me to others as “unloving, controlling, arrogant, etc.” through half-truths and blatant lies. And I fear that those who hear this slander will believe it, blaming me for broken relationships, writing me off as a person not worth knowing . . . . So, to protect myself, I either try too hard to explain “my side of the story” or withdraw emotionally.

So I’ve asked myself: WHY do I fear these things?  Because, if I really believe this truth:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation —whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? ² When the wicked advance against me to devour^[a] me, it is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall. ³ Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident” (Psalm 27: 1-3)” —I should not fear!

And I’ve come to understand: my fears reveal my true allegiance, who I really love. I fear relational connections to my family (or people like them) because I love the security of the approval of others, more than I love God. Ouch!  I’ve come to understand that my responses to fear, emotionally withdrawing and over-explaining, are a means of control, of securing a “safe place” where I won’t be hurt again.  Rather than trusting in God’s perfect love, a love that “casts out fear” I trust Self, and I cannot love God when I’m trusting Self.

It’s hard to admit these things—to face the fact that I’m Fearful, not Fearless. But I see it now, the blistering-hot truth.


And in this blistering truth I see God’s grace—the opportunity to face my Fear and counter it with Truth: “God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” ( 2 Timothy 1:7 NLT).

So, I invite you to join me—to begin the battle to make these intellectual truths lived-out truths, to pursue delighting in God rather than the false security of human validation. And I’m not there yet—I’m not sure exactly how this process will play out, but the first step is before me—fervently sharing these things with God, relating to Him through prayer.

Below is an article from a site called Bible Café For Women. This article lists out 50 bible verses on fear that you may find helpful as you meditate and pray.

50 Scripture Verses on Fear

Spirit of Fear: An Introduction

“Mom!” Micah whispers hard as he yank-pulls my right arm, “Mom! Let’s go! Please! That guy over there, he’s looking at me. He’s gonna get me!”

I glance across the playground to the teenager crouched at picnic table, cell phone in hand, fingers moving across tiny keypad, cap pulled low, basketball shorts rippling in the warm afternoon breeze.

“Micah, no, we aren’t going anywhere. That guy isn’t paying any attention to you. You begged to come to the park, now GO play with you brothers.”

Micah panic-grabs my arms, pinching skin, pulling tiny hairs (ouch!). Tears roll down cheeks as he grabs my waist with both arms and buries his face in my yellow shirt.

“Micah, remember what Daddy told you--think about God’s promise to keep you safe. Can you remember your verses?” As Micah’s tears seep through my shirt, my eyes squint into afternoon sun, watching Josiah hang from monkey bars and Isaiah stumble-climb up winding steps to slide. I pat Micah’s back saying, “Tell me your verses.”

Micah muffle-speaks: “EventhoughIwalkthroughthevallyoftheshadowofdeath—breathe—Iwillfearnoevilforyouarewithme—breathe—Can we go, now!?” (Psalm 23:4)

“Micah, you can’t just say the words, you have to believe them, live them, and the fact that you are crying and pinching me tells me that you aren’t believing God will protect you . . . .”

But for the last six weeks or so, no amount of praying, verse-memorizing, or talking it through has helped Micah overcome his irrational fear of “bad guys.” Gone are his innocent, “I can beat up any bad guy I want” days, and here-for-now are the “every stranger might be an evil child-snatcher” days.

At the beginning of this new phase, I was patient mom—I knew Micah needed time to work through his fear. But when routine trips to the grocery store and library became tear-filled battles, I felt frustration rise, and when Micah invented his own way of dealing with his fear: “Hey, if I talk to every single person I’m afraid of, then I won’t be afraid anymore!” life got complicated. I found myself explaining:  “No, Micah, we can’t talk to the tattooed man sitting on the side of the road smoking a cigarette, not without Daddy, that wouldn’t be wise.”

And scolding:  “Micah! Why on earth did you open the front door to a complete stranger and strike up a conversation?! You NEVER open the door without permission!”

And instructing: “Micah, it’s good that you wanted to talk to that man in the library, but next time, don’t tell him you think he’s a bad guy. That might hurt his feelings.”

And arguing: “Micah, of course the strange guy sitting on his back porch is looking at you. You’re staring at him! If you stop staring at him, he might stop looking back at you!”

And patient mom became JUST-GET-OVER-IT-NOW! mom.

Then God, through an unforeseen connection to my dysfunctional family, revealed to me that I’m not much different than Micah—I too am controlled by a “spirit of fear” (2 Tim. 1:7). I too fail to live this truth: “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear!?” (Psalm 27: 1).

Continued in the next post: Battling Fear

Loss

Baby at 9 weeks

We lost our second baby, not-yet-named.

Tiny head, hands, feet floated,

in gentle waters—life blood still, heart silent.

And little voices asked: “Why did baby

want to play with Jesus in heaven?”

Why?

But this time why dies on lips because I’ve learned:

Loss is Life.

Others weep deep losses

I may never know:

Mothers bury sons-with-names,

Children bury fathers, mothers,

Bodies twist with sickness,

Bringing death of dreams—

Bringing sorrow to living,

Life is Loss.

Families splinter.

Relationships with those not-yet-dead

shrivel-die before blooming.

Mothers reject daughters

Fathers hate sons

Selfish hearts corrupt what should have been,

what ought to be . . .

Life is Loss.

But now, as second baby

rises to “play with Jesus,” this I know:

Loss is gain.

Loss is hope.

Loss is joy. 

Loss opens blind eyes to blessing:

Three blond boys, named and growing,

Husband of ten years, love unconditional, thriving,

Sister-love deepening within family fracturing,

Holy Spirit family—forever flourishing

In our Father of Life.

Loss shatters delusion, the mirage of control,

Loss turns hearts to

He who holds all things in the

Palm of his hand,

Who knows the hairs on my head,

Who formed me in my mother’s womb

Who loves me in spite of me.

“I consider everything a loss compared

 to the surpassing greatness of knowing

 Christ Jesus my Lord,

for whose sake I have lost all things.”*

Becca

Death is a dialogue between

The spirit and the dust.

“Dissolve,” says Death. The Spirit, “Sir,

I have another trust.”

Death doubts it, argues from the ground

The Spirit turns away,

Just laying off, for evidence,

An overcoat of clay.

Emily Dickinson

Psalm 71:20-21
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.

Psalm 73:26
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Lamentations 3:31-33
For men are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.

* Philippians 3:8