Embracing Fear

Sometimes the fear is good. I know that fear is classified as “sin” most of the time, unless it is the fear of God, but sometimes, I embrace my fear instead of running away from it.

Let me explain.

When I was little, I was terrified of thunderstorms. I had some scary experiences as a child, and for me, thunderstorms often meant at least a power outage and the threat of tornadoes. I also had a large window in my room that did nothing to block the bright streaks of lightning, which promptly woke me up.

Filled with fear, I would go downstairs to my parents’ room. If they didn’t let me in their bed, then I would make a pallet on the floor. And if they still said no, then I would move to the couch.

To me, my parents equaled safety. For some reason, as a child, I believed that if a storm or tornado was coming, it couldn’t touch me as long as I was close to my parents. I also believed that if a tornado was coming, then they would hear it and move my sisters and I to safety.

My fear of storms caused my faith and trust in my parents to grow stronger because I believed, no matter what, they could protect me. In their presence, I was safe.

Today, I have a lot of small fears such as clowns, mimes, roller coasters, people without clothing, snakes, free falling from thousands of feet in the air, possums, etc. These fears I believe are completely legitimate, and I have no intention of overcoming them, so don’t even try to help me.

Yet there are other fears, deep fears, which can be crippling if I let them… Telling someone I love how I really feel, the unknown, failure, rejection, disappointing others, facing new situations and circumstances.

The temptation is to run home, dive under my covers, and stay in bed away from the dangers of venturing into the world.

With every fiber of my being, I want to be safe. I don’t what to get hurt. I sure as heck don’t want to hurt others either.

But if I run away, then I miss out on life.

Instead, I embrace my fear. And in my fear, I run to Him.

I feel like I am standing at the beginning of a road. All around me is blackness except for a single light in the distance. I want Him to light the past for me, to make everything bright so I can see.

But He never promised to make everything bright. Instead, He promised to be my light, to hold my hand as I walk, very slowly, in the darkness.

Did I mention I am afraid of the dark?

I hate it. I kick and I scream, but I don’t want to let go. Because, even more so than my fear of the dark, I am afraid of being alone. So I cry and beg for Him not to leave me, to never let go.

And He puts His arm around my shoulders, and He pulls me closer, and He grabs my hand tighter, and He whispers, “I will never leave you or forsake you”.

In my fear, I run to Him, faster and faster. Because, I will face anything, as long as I am with Him.

I embrace my fear, and my faith and trust in Him grows stronger. Because, I believe, no matter what, He will protect me. In His presence, I am safe.