I have started another book (actually, 2 or 3 others, but who's counting?!), and, after only a few short chapters, I'm hooked. It's non-fiction (well, mostly) by Max Lucado, and it's called Fearless.
It's his newest book (he's written eleventy billion), and it asks hard questions. By what things do we measure our self worth? How has fear eroded our ability to be productive? Who are you, really?
Though I haven't gotten even halfway through the book yet, I have been thinking a lot about this question: What would I do if I weren't afraid? I mean, truly, if I could eliminate fear (or, whittle it away until it's only the healthy amount that keeps me from just being plain stupid), how would my life be different? What decisions would I make--or make differently--if I could just let go of my misgivings?
This is sort of dangerous water to navigate, both because I don't like to make a habit to dwell on the past, and because I certainly don't to allow myself the opportunity to regret the past. I need to be sure that, in asking such questions, that they can be understood in how I will move forward, and not ultimately foster more fear as a way to respond to the poor choices that I've made up to this point.
I think, though, that asking these questions has helped to identify a larger question (for me, anyway): what, exactly, do I fear? I want to rule things out, but I think that, if I'm being honest, there are a lot of things that scare the sheboygans out of me (yup, sheboygans): being a disappointment, going through financial duress, losing family, failing, the unknown, making the wrong choice, etc. So, like, in naming my fears, it's almost as if I've discovered that fear, in one way or another, plays a much bigger role in my life than I would like.
Here's the thing, though: I've been told that I need not worry, since even sparrows are taken care of, and they're way less important than I am. I've been told that I'm so important, and so well-loved, that even my (now shorter) hairs are individually numbered. I've been told, countless times, to Fear Not.
So, now I just have to get better at implementing that, which means letting go of a lot(!) of stuff. And, some of the things that I need to abandon--some of these fears--are things that have also acted as safety nets. It's comfortable to be settled in fear because then the risks can remain small. But, alas, so then do the rewards.
Here's to a brand new, fearless day.
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Okay, here's my problem with the whole sparrows and hair counting thing. It's a lovely sentiment, it really is. But I think we have to examine our definition of "taken care of" when we look at the Real World. There are faithful Christians all over the world who are starving, being persecuted, and dying. Or, on a smaller scale, faithful Christians getting laid off and having huge financial problems in their lives.
ReplyDeleteAll of which to say, I have a hard time accepting the "don't worry about it because we're better than sparrows" argument, no matter how many times I hear it. Call it a stumbling block...
(This conversation comes up a lot in our house in the context of why I won't let Josh do mission work in Sudan. He says -- God will protect me. I say -- what possible evidence could you have for believing that?)
I know, and that's sort of what I was getting at, albeit, very briefly, with my aside regarding the "healthy amount of fear that keeps me from just being plain stupid." But, I have to believe that, in a perfect world, there's probably a way to reconcile this confusion.
ReplyDeleteOf course, in a perfect world, all that starving/persecution/financial woe business is probably not an issue.
Blerg.