Fear

Fear has always been a companion in my life, and most of the time, I welcomed him to some extent. Ironically, he felt safe enough and I would allow him to tag along as I walked through my day. I guess I’d liken him in some regard to my little brother (no offense, Paul), always following one step behind.
Sometimes, he annoyed me a bit, getting in the way when I needed him to leave me alone. On other occasions, he’d embarrass me at the least opportune times. I couldn’t always hide him and it was obvious to everyone around that Fear was with me.

And then, in my weakest moments, I’d let his presence overshadow me. That’s when it would get really ugly. A moment in time would pass when I knew I should say something, do something, offer something, or be something to someone else but with his strong arms wrapped around my own will, I gave in to Fear. Too easily. Not even putting up a fight.

Fear won.

After thirty years of letting Fear bully me, I decided enough was enough. It’s time to fight back. Fear may still exist and hide in the corners of my heart and my mind, but I refuse to allow him to have the control he once had.

Well, at least I’m attempting to try.

I realized Fear isn’t only affecting me but humankind as well. As I look around today, I see him latching on to most people I encounter. Their hearts are on fire for their dreams, yet Fear tells them those dreams are impossible.

These people want to have a family, go back to school, quit their job and move to Africa, volunteer at a shelter, stand up for justice, ask a question, right a wrong, or even say hi to their neighbor, but Fear soaks into their bloodstream and prevents them from taking a step in the beautiful, wonderful, difficult life that lays in front of them.

Fear wants to stop our stories.

And with the pain and brokenness and hurt in this world, we simply can’t let it. The human race needs a hope and faith and light now more than ever.

The Ancient Scriptures say through the love of Christ, we are to be that hope. That light. Burning brightly on a hill.

Not hidden in the darkness of a shadow by a nemesis named Fear.

Yet, we can’t go at it by ourselves. I think that’s why so many of us get so close to crossing over the border from darkness into light.

From Fear into boldness.

However we know that once we take that step into that which illuminates, we’ll be exposed.

Naked.

Ashamed.

Broken.

Possibly alone, and desperately longing to go into hiding again.

We know what it’s like to have Fear screaming in our heads.

The way our minds tell us to run, our hearts palpitate, our hands sweat, our voices tremble, our bodies toss and turn in an ocean of confining sheets as the ceiling moves in closer and closer.

Fear’s voice is loud.

Earthshatteringly loud.

But our voices are louder.

Yet most of us don’t know that.

We don’t know the power we have when we fight Fear back. Fear isn’t strong. He’s derived from something ultimately weak and powerless.

Have you noticed how we’re often impressed by people who appear to be fearless? The ones who fly to the moon. Chase tornadoes. Enter dangerous war zones. Skydive. Speak in front of thousands of people. Stand up to cancer. Raise money and adopt a child that isn’t their flesh and blood?

Why are we so inspired by them?

Because deep down, we are them.

We all share those characteristics. They’re divinely human.

Just like us.

Something subconsciously in us begins to glow when we see people overcome Fear. Their actions push us to find that divine piece (or is it peace?) within ourselves in order that we may also overcome Fear.

A majority of people in the world live with some kind of baggage. A shame. A weight. A burden. A question.

And Fear continues to tell us that we’re alone.

And that we can’t speak freely.

But Fear is wrong.

We are not alone.

Regardless of what shame, what question, what trepidation, what history, what anxiety, whatever you are carrying deep inside, you are not alone.

And you can speak freely.

-from Anne Jackson's Permission to Speak Freely-