Archives for October 2017

Can I Trust God with My Fear?

10.24.2017 by Tracy Stella //

This month, I (Tracy) get to share with our FACETS readers one of my favorite people. Meet my friend Megan. She is kind, humble, and attentive and attuned to God’s leading. One of the things I love most about her is her willingness to be brave, in spite of fear, obediently stepping into what God has for her. I have been blessed to know her, and I’d love to pass that blessing on to you, our readers. Praying you will bravely step through any residual fear in your lives, as you read and are encouraged by Megan’s story.

Fear has been present in many different forms throughout my life. When I was 3 it was anyone (and I mean anyone) who would say “hi” to me. I would hide behind my mom and cry until they went away. My older brother was the opposite. He loved to yell “hi!” to all we passed and then loudly comment how rude they were when they didn’t respond. We were quite the pair.

As I grew up, though, the fears I faced slowly changed form to things like grades, the idea of perpetual singleness, “what if they knew”, back surgery and, sadly, leading worship. So, when I was asked to write in response to Can I trust God when I’m afraid?, it seemed rather appropriate given my long list. It also, though, led to many pages of scribbled words, songs, scriptures and generally incoherent thoughts as I tried to piece together where God was leading. My brain screamed “YES! Of course you can trust God!”, my heart right there behind it wanting so badly to agree, but my actions – they expose the truth.

The truth is, my fear is often much bigger than my trust.

I never thought of myself as a fearful person, even with all the previous listed items. The day someone asked me to help sing with the worship band and my prayers to God didn’t seem to be leading me away from it, was when I came to terms with my unreasonable and unexplainable fear. Standing with a microphone my heart races. My voice quivers. All I have practiced slips away. What remains is my doubt and an overwhelming fear. I hear every shaky note magnified by the microphone, hands trembling. Why can I worship freely, joyfully and confidently until someone hands me this silly microphone? It is as if every insecurity and fear I have ever felt chooses that moment to come up to the surface, leaving me incredibly vulnerable, blocking the praises of my heart.

There is something about being vulnerable –exposed, admitting you are imperfect, opening up to rejection. It is terrifying. It leaves me wanting to be just vulnerable enough I appear real and relatable, while hiding just enough I don’t really have to fear rejection or judgement. “What if they actually knew the real me? All of me?” I want to control my vulnerability, and the response of others. In these moments, my fear is much bigger than my trust.

So, can I trust God in these moments of fear? If I let go of my control, my pride, and my expectations and trust God with all my fears, then what am I left with?

Him.

I am left with my Heavenly Father. My Father who knows me, knows every thought, every fear, and He walks right beside me through all of them – never leaving me. He sees where I am today and he sees me on the other side, already victorious.

This is illustrated well in the story from Matthew 14 where Jesus sent His disciples ahead of Him, across the lake and said He would meet them there. He went up the hills alone to pray, and as night fell, He started walking across the water to meet them. Meanwhile, the disciples were in the boat in the middle of the lake fighting through stormy waves. They were terrified! Then, along comes Jesus, walking by them on the water and His disciples cried out in fear. Jesus said, “Do not be afraid. Take courage. I am here.”

Did Jesus send them out alone into a storm to battle on their own and just show up when He no longer thought they could handle it themselves? I don’t think so. He was asking them to trust Him.

When the disciples saw Jesus walking on water, Peter called out to Him, “Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come to you, walking on the water.” Peter was able to walk towards Jesus on the water until he let himself look back to the storm, was overcome with fear and began to sink.

When Peter called out for help, Jesus immediately reached out to grab him. He didn’t let him drown. Jesus climbed into the boat with them, and His presence stopped the storm.

When Peter’s eyes were focused on Jesus, trusting Jesus, his storm was calmed (and he walked on water!). It was only when he allowed himself to look away he began to fear. Trusting in Jesus overpowered his fear.

I can trust God with my fear, because He is more powerful than my fear. While my fear may come and go, when I cry out to the Lord “Help!” and I focus my eyes on Him, my fear has no power over me. He will not let me drown.

Take reassurance from God’s message to the Israelites, His chosen people, in Isaiah 41:10 (NLT):

Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.

Trust the Lord with your fear, He sees your victory.

Join the conversation here or on our Facebook page.

Trusting God When Fear Strikes Out

10.17.2017 by Kim Findlay //

We’re talking about fear and trust this month here at Facets of Faith. Tracy and Jen have shared. Click on their names if you missed their posts. Next week we have a wonderful guest so be sure to come back! Today, it’s my (Kim’s) turn. I figure we can jump right in with a confession. That’s always a great way to start (she says, dripping with sarcasm).

I know, nothing like opening an article with baring my heart and soul with a confession, but here it goes.

Sometimes I’m afraid to embrace life. I’m not afraid to live – I honestly don’t have any control over how my heart beats or the rhythm of my breathing. I used to wonder about that during the early days of grief, those days following my daughter’s death.

I remember those earliest moments when all I could do was focus on my breathing – the almost annoying pressure I felt to take air in and breath it out. I didn’t consciously think about breathing, but I remember those moments when the physical act took all of my attention.

Grief is ugly and heavy and yet somehow beautiful. It exposes the deepest parts of our souls, the most tender, the most vulnerable, the most precious. The tears that flow, that trickle down my cheeks were evidence of the love I have for my sweet Emma, for the years we had together and all of the memories that would never take place.

Fear became my bedfellow in many ways and for many years but I learned that God is bigger, He is stronger, He is more powerful than my greatest nightmare, than the moment I buried my daughter.

I thought as years passed and God healed my heart that the fear would subside. That the weight of grief would lesson and somehow I would return to normal.

Normal is actually overrated and illusive, isn’t it? Because as the years marched on, the fear that gripped my heart began to morph into something I didn’t know, something I didn’t expect. As the fear that surrounded me after Emma died began to subside, its cousin took its place. A darker, more insidious bedfellow that poked and prodded and tried to steal away the peace that God had given to me.

The fear made its presence known when life seemed to be rolling along at a reasonable pace. When I thought I had this living-with-grief thing figured out. That’s when it would start to whisper.

You know it could happen again. You could lose Kelsey, your other daughter. What if something happen to her?

Anxiety would follow, reminding me of all I lost and the emotions I felt as the fire destroyed my home.

Did you turn the stove off? Are you sure the fire alarms work?

Anxiety then became action as I walked around and checked the alarms regardless of the fact that I knew full well they worked.

The whispers grew louder and a little more frequent as I started to try new things.

Are you really laughing right now? Don’t you remember what happened to your house? To your pets? To your daughter? To your marriage?

Fear tapped it’s neighbor, shame, on its shoulder and the two of them unleashed their power.

If you enjoy life, you’re going to forget her. It’ll be as if she never lived. Is that what you want?

The worry and anxiety tried to suffocate my faith. It felt stronger. It seemed stronger. But was it? Really?

As my feelings grew and my heart healed, I realized the emotions that had been numb suddenly felt as if the faucet turned full force and my soul didn’t know how to absorb it all. Fear’s fingers squeezed the tender shoot of life that had begun to grow.

Fear gripped me. It paralyzed me. And there were days I let fear win. I hid and remained silent. I went through the motions of life without really living. On the outside I looked normal, functioning, engaging with the world. But on the inside? Where life mattered? I felt shriveled, destined to live in the dark.

This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust Him.” Psalm 91:2

Then one day I began to hear a different whisper, one that I knew, that I recognized.

Come near, I am here.

I never left you.

I see you. I see your tears. I weep with you.

I am stronger.

I will protect you. I do protect you.

I love you. I delight in you.

I began to read my journals from those early days after Emma died and saw, through my own handwriting, the miraculous things that God had done. The peace that settled my heart. The joy when I sensed Him near. The truth that anchored my soul as it was tossed about by grief and loss.

I will never leave you. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

I am near. (Psalm 145:18)

I see you, your tears, your broken heart. (Psalm 56:8)

I am stronger. (Proverbs 18:10)

I am your protector. (Psalm 121)

I delight in you. (Zephaniah 3:17)

Those familiar words began to seep into my soul and snuff out the darkness. The light of His love shone into the hidden places and walled off spaces as I let His healing grace in. I learned God isn’t a bully, He won’t force His way in. But if we choose to trust Him, if we make the conscious decision to open our hearts and let Him in, He will fill us with a peace that truly passes all understanding and set an anchor for our soul through the craziest of storms.

So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.” Hebrews 6:18-19

I had to decide, once and for all, whether or not to believe God’s truth. I had to decide either He lied about everything, or His truth reigned over it all. Even over death. Even over loss. Even over fear.

I chose to believe.

I chose to believe that His Word is real and can guide me through my fear.

I chose to believe that He loves me, even when I fail.

I chose to believe that He delights in me simply because I’m His.

I chose to believe, once and for all, that He truly is bigger than my fear, and I don’t need to live as a ‘fraidy cat.

So now I’m beginning to embrace life in all of its messy gloriousness, and it is good.

How do you trust God in the face of fear?

Share you story in the comments below or jump over to our Facebook page and join the conversation. Thanks for reading!

When I’m Afraid: 3 Steps to Beating Fear in Relationships

10.10.2017 by Jennifer Howe //

Thanks for visiting, friend. This month’s topic has been a wonderful introspective opportunity. Tracy shared her thoughts last week HERE, Kim is up next week, and our guest, Megan, will wrap up the following week. We’ve been thinking about trusting God with our fears, and we’re pretty sure this topic relates.

Can I really trust God? On days that go smooth-as-silk, it can be easy—or I may not even ask that question at all. When my heart and mind are weakened by fear; admittedly, it’s tough.

People, personal space, and sharing my fragile self with others—it looks like very mild social anxiety, I suppose. The truth is, entering into relationships can be hard. If I’m honest, I admit to having a smidge of fear when people are different than me. Initially it was noticeable with men: they tend to be bigger, broader, imposing. I’ve suffered intense pain at the hands of a few men. That’s one reason I’m thankful for the gentler man God has given me.

“One bad apple spoils the whole bushel.”

What’s true in the fruit bowl doesn’t translate to relationships. Sometimes it’s hard to separate moments in time, the people involved, and the things that happened. I know I’ve gotten confused and lumped some people, places, and things together unconsciously.

A little knowledge is dangerous, and I’ve studied the human mind a little bit—enough to know that how we experience an event in time (especially with others) matters. When emotion floods a moment, it’s not uncommon for the mind to trap details in a way that changes future responses to similar events or people who appear similar. We can, consciously or unconsciously, generalize unkindness from a single person to a larger group: all men (or women) pay for the actions of one. Worse, all people whose skin looks a certain way or who align with a certain broadly-painted worldview face the phantoms of the past, stereotypes, or cultural caricatures portrayed in a hundred media outlets.

So, what do we do? Ultimately, we need to forget the stereotypes and caricatures, and put away the phantoms. But maybe we begin with baby steps.

I wondered what would happen if I tried to—

See, I mean really see, the person in front of me. Is this person the original source of my hurt? If not, I plan to let each individual stand or fall by his or her own choices and real actions. I don’t want others to pay for the actions of phantoms or the possible actions of cultural caricatures and old stereotypes I picked up in another time and place. I’ve been asking God to give me the insight to see which of the three views I’m holding in the moment. This is one area I’ve worked hard! I’m a work in progress, and it’s never easy, but I’ve begun to catch when generalization or transference is in play.

Be in the moment. I find it helpful to look around and ask Where am I right now? Who am I with? If this is a safe place with safe people, I want to embrace that and let down the guard and attitude I’ve maintained for too long. I can choose to be open, honest, receptive, even teachable in the moment. This step has grown in tandem with seeing, I think. When I consciously choose to see, it’s easier to be. The conversation and actions in the moment can be so important to the relationship. I’ll choose selfless authenticity in safety. The person in front of me might just do the same. Win-win!

Love. I’ll ask How can I love this person best in this moment? Loving those who are easy to love is low-hanging fruit in relationships. My challenge is stepping up to love the ones who are hard (and hard can look 100 different ways!). (Is that a challenge for you?) This is the uphill battle for me. The softer side of relationship (love) doesn’t come as naturally to me. Love is open and selfless and vulnerable a lot of the time. It’s not always received or returned. It’s not about return on investment. And love isn’t about all about me—or it’s not authentic love to begin with.

25 Just then an expert in the law stood up to test Him [Jesus], saying, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 “What is written in the law?” He asked him. “How do you read it?” 27 He answered: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself. 28 “You’ve answered correctly,” He told him. “Do this and you will live.” 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Luke 10 CSB

When we look at God’s love given to us, it’s wholly different than the way we like others or offer kindness hoping to get something out of it. Jesus’ love was an all-in, holding-nothing-back kind of love!

19 We love because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19

Do the right thing! This is where faith has legs. I ask What’s the next right thing? But better yet—will I decide to lean in rather than out, listening attentively to the person I see and to the Spirit? Rather than fill the void with my own internal or external voice, will I wait for words and be still? If I don’t get to speak, will I choose that kind of stillness? Will I invest my time, energy, or resources in the way He leads? Even if it’s costly to me? Painfully so?

There is a right kind of fear…

11 Come, children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord. Psalm 34:11

Catch that! Fear of the Lord, friend, is what we are hoping for—not fear of anyone or anything else. I want that to be real in my life, don’t you? Being quiet and listening is the start of that beautiful life trait. Listening isn’t related to a person’s looks or worldview. It’s a choice we make because someone is human and made in the image of God.

If you’ve hung in here, thanks for walking this slice of thought life with me. I wish I could hear the thoughts whirring in your mind right now! Do you struggle with this process in a “similar but different” way? I think we all do.

While I want to be fearless, I know parts of my character are being refined every day. This is just one area of my heart I desperately want to see grow and change into beautiful, peaceful strength. I’ve learned to lean into moments of mild awkwardness and discomfort with people different than me, and with practice, I’ve seen a lot of success. I respect some of the emotional boundaries (for now), giving myself grace for each day that reveals fear or crude relational skills. I understand I got to this place by experiences with people, and I know my Jesus loves all people and has a mind to help me love like He does. I won’t settle for where I am now. (What would happen if none of us settled?)

Think about this—Who are you afraid of? Where does the fear come from? If you didn’t settle, what would you do about it?

I hope you know how much the Facets team appreciate each of you. We hope you’ll bring your thoughts and ideas into the mix each week—that’s when the conversation gets rolling.