Fear

I hate to admit that I struggle with fear. I’d rather be seen as fearless. Confident. In control. Courageous. Assured. Steady. Notice that I said “I’d rather be seen”.

It’s not that I don’t want to “be” all those those things that are the opposite of being afraid it’s just that at my core I’m also afraid of how I’m seen from the outside. So I guess (timidly stepping forward) my deeper fear is how people see me or what people think of me. Darn fear-of-man issues anyways. I really thought I had that one beaten. Or at least I figured out a way to fool my fear for a while with my own self-projection. Huh… that last sentence sounds messed up!

Is it possible… to have deep fears fighting for breath inside of me that I’ve nurtured with my own self-projections for years? Is it possible, that in my response to my fear… I’ve sought shelter from the barrage of this enemy by erecting forts of my own self-projected image and therefore unintentionally fed those fears until they were fully grown, ravaging beasts? I’m gonna have to think on that one for a while!!

When I was a kid I grew up in a broken family. I dreamed that my family would be fixed one day. But that day never really came. So I learned to be afraid that I was broken beyond repair. I remember having a few friends whose lives didn’t seem to be so broken. They had both parents at home. They had nice homes. They had air conditioning and central heat. They had cable TV. They drove nice cars. Everything externally looked well put together. Much different than my life.

See how I just attached all those external material things to one relational identity? Didn’t realize I did that till I did it. Bottom line… I grew up with an intense inner fear that I was irreparably broken. Beyond hope. Outcast. Worthless. Unlovable. Unwanted. Where does a person find shelter from that storm? Where could I hide from this onslaught?

I’m the one who convinced myself that my responses to my fears were valid right? I mean… I know that fear is a valid emotion that everyone feels. But how did I respond to those fears? And was my response valid? Was it helpful or healthy? Or did I just begin to self-project an image of me that I was afraid didn’t exist, just to prove to myself that I wasn’t who I’m afraid of being?

So… here’s an interesting thought I think… If I really believed that I was broken beyond repair… then how in the ever-livin-heck could broken-beyond-repair-me… actually self-project anything different about me that would ever stand the test of time? Wouldn’t the image of me… that I was creating… be just as faulty and broken as the real me that I perceived myself to be?

Where do I run to hide from this reality? Is there a room full of books somewhere… where I can hide myself in some newly gained knowledge. Knowledge is a fun place to hide for a while until that knowledge must be tested by action. And when my fear is at the wheel of the ship of my soul… my actions are often far less than courageous. So I guess that burns down the fort rooms of knowledge.

Where do I run for shelter amidst these storms? Is there a way to set some goals? Like… maybe a list of life goals. What happens when those goals get achieved? What happens when they don’t get achieved? I’ve tried hiding under the shelter of achieving goals. It’s a weak hiding place because fear is a monster that destroys the safety of goal achievement. Fear screams into my soul that my best achievements really aren’t good enough either. There’s always a bigger hill to climb. There’s always someone whose achieved more than I have. Ah… the comparison game!!! Oh man… fear of man once again!!! Dangit!!!

Shifting gears… I’ve been discussing this issue of fear with everyone I come into contact with this week. From the dinner table with my family… to the lunch table with friends… to the circle of my small group… to the early morning conversations with my wife… to the late night beers and cigars on the porches of friends houses… to the early morning and late evening question and answer sessions with my soul… to the periodic moments throughout the day as the Lord nudges me through his Word and the still voice of his Spirit. Ah… the Spirit and the Word and the community that surrounds me… channels of grace that dispel my fears.

Collectively we fear. We fear eternal loneliness. We fear failure. We fear death. We fear ghosts or demonic presence. We fear snakes and spiders. We fear our failed marriages will define us for all of eternity. We fear we are stupid, unlovable, ugly, fat, worthless, inferior, unacceptable or unwanted.

These defining or descriptive words are like sharpened swords or well aimed arrows that wound our souls painfully. And in our pain we complain and we run from one shelter to the next like scared children in a horror flick. Be it knowledge or achievements or relationships… we self-project the unbroken “me” that we wish to be while deep down inside the inward mind and heart of our souls scream at us like monsters in a “Walking Dead” episode.

Where do we find refuge? Where do we run for shelter? Where do we hide? The Sunday school answer… the platitude we Christians love to use… the banner we throw over all of this… is Jesus. But what does that even mean? What does that mean for the person who fears Jesus? What does that mean when I’m afraid Jesus isn’t real? What does that mean when I’m afraid I’m not good enough for God? What does that mean when I’m afraid there isn’t true joy in the presence of Jesus? How do I do what “good Christians” say I should do when I’m afraid of the one they say I should find shelter in?

I’d love to say that these questions aren’t my questions. I’d really love to convince myself with this self-projection. To convince myself that everyone else struggles with this fear. I’d rather be seen as courageous not fearful. Assured not fearful. Convinced not fearful. In control not fearful. Steady not fearful. But the truth is… these are my questions. They have been my questions.

I used to think that Jesus couldn’t handle my questions. I still do think that sometimes. Ok… I’m afraid that he can’t handle my questions or that he doesn’t care about my questions or that he doesn’t have time for my questions. Deeper than that… I’m afraid that he can’t handle me… that he doesn’t care about me… that he doesn’t have time for me.

So I hide. I run. I build my own shelter. I devise my own fort. I recreate myself into the image of who I believe I must be so that Jesus can handle me. So that Jesus will care about me. So that Jesus will want to spend time with me. Guess what? There’s no joy in that because my little snow fort melts under the hot sun of my broken self-projections.

And in the midst of this I hear Jesus say… you are mine. I bought you at the cross.  No one can ever erase my blood signature on your adoption papers. You cannot outrun my love because the shadow of the cross reaches back before the beginning of the world and it stretches forward into all of eternity. My Father is your Daddy. And our Daddy is the best handyman this world’s ever seen. You are his project. You are not your own project. The projects our Daddy starts he doesn’t leave in a messy pile in the garage of our fears. Have no fear.

My Daddy’s projection of who I am is far better than my own. Now that’s a place to hide out from the bad guys! My Daddy didn’t leave me in my melted snow fort. He gave me a brand new fort that will never fail me. I will not fear… for in the presence of the Lord there is lasting joy that guts my fears.

The Psalmist says this in Psalm 64. In verses 1 – 6 David complains about the fear he feels. In verses 7 – 9 David turns his attention to the Father he trusts. In verse 10, David finds joy in the shelter of his Father. Complaining and fear turn to joy-filled shouts of praise in just 10 verses.

Psalm 64

¹ Hear my voice, O God, in my complaint; preserve my life from dread of the enemy.

² Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked, from the throng of evildoers,

³ who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows,

⁴ shooting from ambush at the blameless, shooting at him suddenly and without fear.

⁵ They hold fast to their evil purpose; they talk of laying snares secretly, thinking, “Who can see them?”

⁶ They search out injustice, saying, “We have accomplished a diligent search.” For the inward mind and heart of a man are deep.

⁷ But God shoots his arrow at them; they are wounded suddenly.

⁸ They are brought to ruin, with their own tongues turned against them; all who see them will wag their heads.

⁹ Then all mankind fears; they tell what God has brought about and ponder what he has done.

¹⁰ Let the righteous one rejoice in the Lord and take refuge in him! Let all the upright in heart exult!

I want to be that person. I want to be the person that brings the mess of my fear and the mess of myself into the presence of my Father who removes all fear and turns my complaining into joy-filled praise. I don’t want to be seen as someone who is that person. I want to be someone who is that person. Lord help me to believe that you are making me into that person.