I'm not exactly the fearful type.
Ok, except for clowns. They freak me out.
But seriously, as a girl with a fair amount of, hmmm how shall we say - *issues*? - one thing I can honestly say does not plague me is a whole heck of a lot of phobias.
When I was single I had this married friend who would call me all panic stricken when her husband would be away for the night, like some kind f pathetic damsel in distress... "can you come stay over?" What? Are you serious? Of course I did go help her out, lest you think me completely heartless... but I'm just sayin, I never did get that "afraid to be alone" thing.
So yeah, I'm ok to be alone, not afraid of the dark, or heights, or public speaking, have never feared for my life (even when wisdom dictated that I probably should have, in my younger, foolish days...)
But here's the thing I have learned about fear:
It operates under virtually the same premise as faith.
We have to exercise it for it to have any power in our lives. And like faith, it comes by hearing. Whatever we hear the most of, is what we tend to believe. What we tend to act on. Oh yeah, and the more we practice it, the more of a defnining force it is in our lives.
Gosh, when I look at it that way, I guess fear isn't such a stranger after all.
Oh snap.
It is a stunning realization that in many ways, my life is more accurately defined by fear than by faith. Fear of stepping out, and taking a risk. Fear of failure. Fear that God does not hear me, or worse, that He's not particularly interested in me. Fear of rejection. Fear that my heart does not matter to Him.
It's stupid, I know, all these fears. I should know better. But somehow, I have given fear a better place at my table than I have given faith. It has subtley taken over.
I have this feeling that if I exercised faith more frequently, more readily, this stronghold of fear wouldn't be so, well, strong.
Ok, except for clowns. They freak me out.
But seriously, as a girl with a fair amount of, hmmm how shall we say - *issues*? - one thing I can honestly say does not plague me is a whole heck of a lot of phobias.
When I was single I had this married friend who would call me all panic stricken when her husband would be away for the night, like some kind f pathetic damsel in distress... "can you come stay over?" What? Are you serious? Of course I did go help her out, lest you think me completely heartless... but I'm just sayin, I never did get that "afraid to be alone" thing.
So yeah, I'm ok to be alone, not afraid of the dark, or heights, or public speaking, have never feared for my life (even when wisdom dictated that I probably should have, in my younger, foolish days...)
But here's the thing I have learned about fear:
It operates under virtually the same premise as faith.
We have to exercise it for it to have any power in our lives. And like faith, it comes by hearing. Whatever we hear the most of, is what we tend to believe. What we tend to act on. Oh yeah, and the more we practice it, the more of a defnining force it is in our lives.
Gosh, when I look at it that way, I guess fear isn't such a stranger after all.
Oh snap.
It is a stunning realization that in many ways, my life is more accurately defined by fear than by faith. Fear of stepping out, and taking a risk. Fear of failure. Fear that God does not hear me, or worse, that He's not particularly interested in me. Fear of rejection. Fear that my heart does not matter to Him.
It's stupid, I know, all these fears. I should know better. But somehow, I have given fear a better place at my table than I have given faith. It has subtley taken over.
I have this feeling that if I exercised faith more frequently, more readily, this stronghold of fear wouldn't be so, well, strong.
There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.
1 John 4:18
I guess that's another parallel between fear and faith. Both have an object. Both require trusting something, or Someone. If the object of faith is my Savior, and trusting Him builds me up... what then, or who is the object of my fear? Who is tearing me down in exchange for my trust?
Must be me.
Yeah, that's not good. I should stop trusting in me... don't you think?
