Facets of Faith

Conversations about life, faith, and friendship.

Trusting God When Fear Strikes Out

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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

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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.

Signature, Jennifer Howe

Can I Trust God When I Want to Be a ‘Fraidy Cat?

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This month the FACETS team stares fear in the face as we explore how God meets us in the midst of our ‘Fraidy Cat moments. We explore what it means to trust God and choose faith over the fear that wants to keep each one of us from fulfilling all God has for us. Check back over the next few weeks to see what Jennifer, Kim, and our special guest have to say on the topic. We all have to face fear, so I pray you learn something new that proves helpful on your own faith journey as you check back in each week.

Have you ever had to wait on something for a long time? Fear sets in when hope gets hard from too much waiting. We wonder if that thing we’ve been waiting on will ever come to pass.

It’s hard to hang onto hope when we’ve been clinging to it for a protracted period. If we were an anchor, barnacles would cover the hope lingering in our hearts. Hardly recognizable, the hope we once clung to not easily seen. It’s there, but it takes effort as we scrape the barnacles off, borrow brave, and keep eyes fixed on God and His promises.

Isn’t the question we’re really asking: Can I trust God while He has me in the wait?

I used to be extremely impatient and impulsive. Getting to my goal ─fast─ used to be my motto. Waiting wasn’t in my vocabulary.

My desire to achieve deeply rooted in fear. I feared I wasn’t good enough, so I had to excel – at everything – in order to matter for anything.  I wrestled with who I was and wondered if that (then) young woman was genuinely good for anything. I feared not. So I faked it. Hard! I thought no one knew how afraid I was. My guess now is, many people probably were well aware.

Isn’t it obvious when someone’s trying too hard?

Funny how fearing becoming a big flop became a self-fulfilling prophesy. I encountered hard times in my life, that turned out to be the best thing that ever happened.

Failure helped me come to know my Father. And in failing, I learned to fear it less. Don’t get me wrong, failing wasn’t fun. It was painful. But in the pain, there was purpose. I learned to make peace with myself. I learned who I am and how God made me. Through failure I learned I could pick myself up and try again.

God was at the helm of my life, scraping off years of rust from sitting in salt water, crustaceans eating away at the purest parts of who God made me to be. It took time. If you’ve ever restored anything, you know that’s generally the case. In time God showed me purpose. He continues to do so.

God’s always working, refining and purifying. He’s not in a hurry. And I’ve learned to be in a hurry less. If we rush the Artist, we’re likely to muddle up the masterpiece He’s working out in us.

I’ve become much more patient with myself as I’ve grown in Christ. It’s another gift God has given as I’ve journeyed with Him in the faith.  I pray He grows that grace gift in you as well, to be kind and patient with yourself.

At first, it felt like I was learning a foreign language. Unfamiliar. I wasn’t sure how to be patient with myself. The fear factor would rear and I’d go back to familiar patterns of performance. I’m more aware. I can see it sooner now and return to center – with Christ at the helm – making me brave where I once was full of fear.

These words whisper to you too, “Be patient with yourself. It’s a process. Learning to wait well takes time.”

And in that time, we also get to cuddle up with Christ. Being patient, we grow to rely on God more. It’s less about what we can do, and more about what He does as we give up control to the One who knows what He’s doing! He’s not going to make a mistake, and He’ll certainly help us make far fewer ones, even as He allows us to make some so we can learn and grow.

Time gives us opportunity to know Jesus better than we would have had we rushed the process. Time also gives us opportunity to know ourselves better. We become more certain of who we are, how God made us, and confident He made us good (even if imperfect).

It takes a bit of courage to believe God is up to something good in our lives (even when we can’t see it).  We are braver for all His barnacle scraping, because He’s giving us strong glimpses of what He really has in store for you and me.

Wait patiently for the LORD.

Be brave and courageous.

Yes, wait patiently for the LORD.

~ Psalm 27:14 NLT

In the patient quiet with the Lord as He continues to help me be still, I noticed something new in Psalm 27:14 which I hadn’t seen before. Sandwiched between wait patiently were the words brave and courageous.

Wait patiently for the LORD.

Be brave and courageous.

Yes, wait patiently for the LORD.

~ Psalm 27:14 NLT (emphasis added)

As the words brave and courageous jumped off the page, the Lord impressed these words upon my heart:

“Patience, the antithesis of fear.”

When we are patient and wait for the Lord, we exhibit great bravery.

When we are patient and wait for the Lord, we demonstrate courage.

In our grab-and-go world, we could succumb to fear, wondering whether the one thing we’ve been waiting for will ever come to pass or just pass us by.  We could take control and take things into our own hands – out of fear we’re not enough, or worse, out of fear God is not enough. We could think we are the master craftsman of our lives, in control of where our ship is sailing and let the fraidy cat inside of each of us win.

Or we could choose to wait patiently. Trust God. Trust His character, and that He’s doing something in ours if there’s a divine delay. Or perhaps He’s teaching us a new thing as was the case with me.

Antithesis isn’t in my everyday language. I felt led to look it up in the dictionary.

In its simplest form, antithesis means opposite.

Patience is the opposite of fear.

There’s another interesting definition of antithesis, rhethoric. The placing of a sentence or one of its parts against another to which it is opposed to form a balanced contrast of ideas, as in “Give me liberty or give me death.”

As I read that definition, another word jumped into my head. Juxtapose. Again, I had a vague knowledge of what the word meant, but felt like I was on a bit of a treasure hunt at this point.

According to dictionary.com, juxtapose means to place close together or side by side, especially for comparison or contrast.

Why the vocabulary lesson? Through language I don’t use in my everyday conversation, I realized God was speaking to me. He taught me a new way to hear His voice. Because I wasn’t in a hurry. Because I slowed down enough to be curious as a cat and let Him speak to me, I heard what was on His heart.

Brave and courageous juxtaposed on the pages of Scripture with great intention. Perhaps we are being the bravest version of ourselves when we wait patiently and cling to the hope we have in Christ and claim every promise He has given us in His Word.

Wait patiently for the LORD.

Be brave and courageous.

Yes, wait patiently for the LORD.

~ Psalm 27:14 NLT

When the wait is hard and fear wants to grab ‘hold of your heart, remember sweet child of God that you are brave. Brave women of God wait patiently. Brave women of God realize they have nothing to prove. Christ did that on a cross for you and me, so cuddle up with Him and let Him show you how brave you are while you wait patiently.

Fear says, “It’s never going to happen.”

God says, “Time will tell.”

I pray God silences the voice that taunts with fear and that God meets you in the wait as He shows you the peace, power, and preparation of abiding in His presence.

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