I Am Afraid

I am sitting on the ground in my living room, my hands stroking the long white shag carpet, trying to find peace in the softness of the carpet and in the rhythmic motion of my hand.  Anything to calm my racing mind.

I had started a growth mindset talk session with my kids to help them with a particular mental roadblock they were having that was, well, driving me insane.  Yet the longer I sat there I knew that session wasn’t just for them.  I knew that I also needed to be vulnerable and share my mental roadblock too.  I have been a parent long enough now to know they see me; they see the shift in my tone, the tenseness in my body language, the stress deepening day by day.  So, knowing that they probably already knew and were just waiting for me to stop being a hypocrite and admit it, I told my kids what was on my heart. 

I told them I am struggling to do something God has asked me to do. 

They ask me why.

“I am afraid.  Very afraid.” 

Knowing that kids often have wisdom beyond their years, I asked them what they would do if they heard God ask them to do something they were afraid of.  My oldest son replied, “I would ask God WHY he is asking me to do this thing. That might help me to not be afraid.” 

Trying to be the adult in the room, I attempted to hold back my sigh, “I have asked him,” I said, “I have yet to hear an answer.” Then, with just a slight hint of annoyance in my voice, I followed that up with, “But God rarely answers my ‘Why?’ questions, so this doesn’t surprise me. “

Then I turn to my younger son and ask him, “What do you think?”

“I would just do it afraid.”

The volume of truth that poured out from his little 8-year-old’s mouth stuns me.  I am speechless and I immediately go into my head to turn this over and over.

Do it afraid.

But I am a controller.  I don’t like to do things out of my control, out of my comfort zone, things that make me feel afraid. I want safe.  I want comfort. I want control. I want to know I will be okay.  When I know it will be okay, that is when I can do it.

Do it afraid.

But I am a perfectionist.  I want instructions.  I want a list.  I want to not just do things for God, but to do them WELL.  RIGHT. PERFECT. What if I put myself out there and it is BAD?  What if I put myself out there and I just completely mess it up?

Do it afraid.

But fear, it paralyzes me.  I look at the jump and all I can think of is the consequences to my actions.  The potential pain.  The loss.  The way things will change.  The things I will have to let go of.  The control I will have to let go of.  The people I might let down.  All these thoughts (and more), they paralyze me from action. 

Do it afraid.

The volumes of truth pour out from his little 8-year-old mouth.  My son who sits next to me on the white shag carpet with his left arm in a black full arm cast.  My son whom his whole life I always deemed as fearless. 

And it dawns on me that he sees life so differently than I do.  The whole thing.  He knew the consequences of going to the skate park without wrist guards, I had told him every single day. He knew he could break his wrist, and he did.  He knew the danger…and he wasn’t fearless as I had always thought. 

He was afraid.

He did it anyway.

To him, it was worth the potential cost.

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Last weekend I was on a retreat with friends in Utah.  It was a combination of work and play, the main goal to align us to a vision and get us to bond together.  Part of this bonding process was doing some activities that aren’t really my thing; activities that scare me.  I do not like being out of control, or being scared.  In the spirit of having a good attitude and trying to grow myself, I agreed to go snowmobiling, even though I was terrified.  My amazing husband who knows that I tend to be a scaredy cat, but also knows I usually just need a lot of cheer and encouragement, was not with me.  He had to work, so for the first time in YEARS, I was doing something that terrified me, without him by my side.  About 30 minutes into the adventure, I felt the depth of this loss.  I realized if I was going to stretch myself and do this thing that I was afraid of, I needed my cheerleader with me, and he was nowhere to be found.  As woman who is learning to ask for what she needs, I spoke up. 

“I need someone to cheer me on.  Just a lot of ‘You got this!’ will work well.  That is usually what can get me through the hump of fear onto the other side.”  My group nodded in agreement and promised to cheer me through.

Today I think of God’s command “Do not fear” in the bible, and it hits me anew.  (Also..."Do not be afraid." Or "Fear not." Well, you get the idea.)

I always imagined a father yelling at me as I shook in my boots, and I tried to muster up my courage.  Like drill sergeant yelling, “DO NOT BE AFRAID!”  But maybe I mis-read the Lord’s tone all these years.  (I mean, some emoji’s in the bible would really help, don’t you think?)

Maybe it is more a of a gentle pleading, like that of an understanding father. “I love you.  I see you.  I know you are afraid.  I am not a genie in a bottle, so I am not going to answer this prayer the way you imagined.  *Poof* fear gone.  That isn’t really my way.  And I am not a manipulator, so I won’t control you like a puppet and make you do what I am asking.  I am your loving father.  I am going to help you and encourage you. Do you see? I am here.  You can trust me.  Do not be afraid.  We will get through it.  Just take that first step.  Step my daughter.  I know you are afraid.  I am with you.  Together we will walk, and I will show you what it is like to not be afraid.”

Maybe all those times in the bible when God says, “Do not be afraid” aren’t commands, but encouragements.  Maybe he really is a gentle loving father who is cheering me on.  He isn’t commanding me not to be afraid, or even expecting me not to be afraid.  Just maybe he is saying to me, “Step.  One at a time.  I am with you.  You do not have to be afraid.”

Which means I am not going to get rid of this fear first.  I just need to do it afraid.

I just need to do it afraid.

What would you do for your life, or for God, if you weren’t afraid?

Can you step out and do it afraid?  Maybe we can take each other’s hands and do it together?

Let me know. ;-)