Facing Paralyzing Fear

I have recently been immobilized by fear. I say recently, but to be completely transparent, it is an ongoing issue. It has taken me some time to see that the muscle I must most purposefully develop is courage. As I progress down the path of learning discipline, facing my fear is quite a big cliff to climb. I stare up at the stark sheerness of it and gasp. For there are crevices my fingers won’t fit into and heights heretofore unknown to this humble walker. I like to pretend I’m a climber, but in reality I’m skirting the edges, shuffling my feet, and shirking the really true tasks that determine my ultimate destiny.

Now maybe you are reading this and thinking, “But Margaret, you are brave! Look at what you have accomplished!” But, my friends, I am not always brave. In fact, I am frequently in league with the Cowardly Lion; snuffling and crying because I haven’t the courage to face my deepest, darkest problems. Because self-study can be terrifying. And the thing is, I have known for some time about my crippling insecurity, but I don’t think I actually realized why until today.

There is a narrative of my life that I share with casual friends that paints me in the best possible light. In this narrative I am the victim – whether it be genetics(my weight/body issues), oppression(how I have been bullied by various people), or infidelity, I always seem to come out glistening with the halo of innocence. But I am not innocent. I am as guilty as we all are—sons of Adam and Eve—eaters of forbidden fruit—transgressors extraordinaire.

The reason for this is clear….it is because the human heart(including mine) is a wasteland.

Disclaimer: If you are reading this and consider yourself blameless, you probably won’t like what I have to say next and are dutifully excused to visit another website that will make you feel good and strong and wholesome. But if you are motivated to change, if you want to see yourself as you really are, take my hand. Cinch your belt. Ready your fingers and toes. I implore you, dear friend: climb the cliff with me.

It is always easier to take the easy path. And truth is relative—relatively speaking. But real truth exposes the great fallacies we live. Gratefully, I am always under the holy eye of a personal God who does not allow me to proceed without a warning. Love warns because love seeks to save. And even upon saving, love seeks most desperately to heal.

3/5ths of my family recently went on a camping trip. We were desperate to escape the noisy city and shake off the dust from our world-weary feet. We wanted to relax. We needed to rest. But finances didn’t allow the kind of vacation we wanted(a child-free beach where all meals are prepared and we need not lift a finger). So we went where we could afford.

Primitive camping has a way of configuring life into its most simple formula; nothing in this life is free. For every pleasure there is a price. The simple pleasure of warmth comes at great cost to the wood. The growling belly is appeased only at the cost of the plant or beast. Sleep is the price for the labor because even the human body must pay for energies expended. In the woods where we camp, we find no toilet, no electricity and no running water. We carry in big blue jugs and everything we eat fits into a cooler. (We were extravagant this trip and purchased a new, larger cooler for convenience).

As I built the fire and prepared our meals, I found great peace in building large coals over which to cook our food. But after each meal was cooked and consumed, I found that satisfaction quickly waned and hunger reappeared. I suppose I might have been frustrated by this scenario were I not a food addict. But I considered several times that I could easily live that way forever; simply making more fires, preparing more food, and sleeping off the exhaustion from exertion. Life is easy in the woods. The fire is not dishonest. It only seeks to burn the wood. The frogs are not altruistic. They chirp and croak and mate with no great purpose other than surviving until the morning. And the chiggers that infested our bodies are just hungry–like me. And while there are consequences, like full bladders after big drinks and smoke that stings the eyes when the wind blows the wrong way, they are just natural responses from the earth and not artifices contrived to wound those in close proximity. This simple rhythm of cause and effect comforted me.

So what—you are asking—does this have to do with fear?

I was sitting in the outhouse my husband built around 2:00am Saturday morning when I heard footfalls outside the structure. And having listened to my husband warn us on more occasions than I care to recount about the activity of bears, I got it into my mind that there was one such creature prowling about outside. In my mind I could see his paws—massive and strong—padding through the dry leaves. And I knew he was hungry. Hungry and awake. And I knew he was coming for the poor unfortunate girl in the large brown box. I would be not unlike a tasty Ding Dong to be plucked from its wrapper and devoured with glee. Suddenly hunger took on a whole new meaning.

And I wondered if I screamed would my husband rouse from sleep fast enough to stave off the dripping jowls? Or would he merely snore on as the bear chewed the meat from my bones? And I wondered if my demise would hurt very much. And then I wondered what the newspaper headline would like and if anyone would even care to read it. And while all of these thoughts were racing through my head I remembered that I had unzipped the tent for my friend Tank(my boxer dog). So when I found the courage to step out of the tent with my flashlight and scan the perimeter I saw him standing there guarding me. And I realized that the running bear narrative in my mind had all been a huge mirage brought on by darkness and shadows, and cobwebs of the mind.

But I have to admit, as scared as I was over my dog pretending to be a bear, there are so many other things I do in my life(creating false narratives and making mountains out of molehills) that drive me to fear and trembling and immobility.

And that is when I realized that so many of my decisions are based not on reality, but rather on feelings and assumptions and misperceptions about life and people. My heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. And my natural tendency to cower and hide–to withdraw from people–is making it impossible to make a very important decision. Because I think the thing I fear most–under the guise of relationships with human beings–is myself. And it’s a trumped up charge because I am not as bad as I think. This idea that I’m a wreck and so flawed that I’ll never fit in with church people is just like the bear – a figment of my wacky imagination. And it’s time to stop making decisions based on feelings and just do what’s right. It’s not about comfort, it’s about accepting myself as okay and learning to forgive and love all human beings, especially myself!

I have been fumbling miserably all summer as I tried to build new relationships, but once the glow wears off, once its time to do the hard work of lasting relationships, when it’s no longer easy and fresh and clean, I totally freak out and withdraw. Because I’m so afraid people will see the messy Margaret and reject me that I create all these reasons why I can’t do life with them. Or I see their weirdness and want an easy exit. It’s so easy to love people from a distance and pretend to be normal and good, but real relationships are risky and come at great personal cost. And that’s really, really scary for me. Because deep down, I’m so petrified of hurting or getting hurt.

Last night I faced my fear because my body had let me down. My depression was so overwhelming(as it has been for several weeks now) and I couldn’t reach my main people. So I called someone I knew would speak truth into my situation, even though they were a little outside my comfort zone. As I was dialing the number I started to panic and all these crazy thoughts went through my head. Like what if they call the police and tell them I need to go to Crazy Town? Or what if they hang up on me because I’m so weird? Or what if they make me commit to something just because I needed someone to talk to in the moment? Or what if I don’t like what they say? But I told the thoughts to vamoose and I made the call. And that is when I realized that all these irrational fears are really hindering my personal growth and it’s time to shut them down.

What are you afraid of today? What is holding you back? What is stealing your joy? Your peace? Your future? Ask God to help you face it and then move forward. I cried this morning when I walked around my neighborhood and asked the Lord to help me remember my purpose. I had lost my way and I’ve been trying desperately to find it. I have been so overwhelmed with all these thoughts and fallacies and I felt Him ask me, “Margaret, what are you striving for?”

And I thought about it. And in a few moments it became very clear… It’s the gospel. The gospel is sufficient. God is sufficient. I am not, but He is. In any and every situation, He is more than enough. And if that is truly the case, what in the world am I so afraid of?

On September 8, 2016   /   The Journey   /   1 Comment