Facing Fear

My four year old son just visited Disneyland for the first time, and it turns out he is deathly afraid of Goofy.

Something about that oversized goon with a big floppy hat, skipping around Toontown, just rubbed Shiloh the wrong way. Now I can’t say I am all that surprised, as he has not been the biggest fan of the mascots he has previously encountered (Mr. Beacon was downright villainous in our house for months after his first NCU basketball game), but I did have hopes that our weeks of preparation for this trip might have been sufficient for Shiloh to overcome his fears of larger-than-life cartoon characters.

Shiloh’s apprehension about the Disney characters proved to be the theme of the day, sparking numerous conversations about bravery. Don’t get me wrong, he had the time of his life and will surely be talking about Dumbo, Cars Land and “It’s a Small World” for weeks to come. But these thrills were sandwiched between pep-talks from Mike and I, reminding him that the rides were constructed with safety as the top priority and the characters would really only approach him if he initiated it.

Over the course of the day, we revisited a discussion that Shiloh and I have had many times in the past: you can be scared but still choose to be brave at the same time. Those feelings are not exclusive. In fact, bravery resembles love in a way, as it’s a proactive emotion that one needs to choose.

For Shiloh, he had the choice to acknowledge his fear and live in it, which would have likely resulted in a fairly disappointing Disney day. But instead, he noticed his fear, and then allowed his excitement and curiosity propel him toward courage. These moments of watching him stand in line for a “big-kid” ride were undoubtedly the highlights of the day for this momma. I knew how his heart must be racing while his determination moved him toward the front of the line. And the pay-off? Laughter and smiles from ear to ear, with building anticipation for the next thrill.

Choosing to brave the bumper car ride at Disneyland is significantly less consequential for the average adult, but we too have daily opportunities to press into courage rather than settle into fear.

My beloved state is currently being devoured by forest fires at this very moment. Recently, large populations in our country were destroyed by the power of a hurricane. Globally, wars are waged daily, innocent lives are lost, and evil persists. There is truly a never-ending supply of sources of fear that can beckon us to live in a state of constant anxiety.

And as human beings who are wired to feel and have functions in our brain designated to trigger fear as a protection mechanism, it’s natural to experience fear. Shaming ourselves or others for experiencing and acknowledging fear is not the solution. Like any other emotion, the significance lies in how we respond to this fear.

Our gracious God provides ample instruction for what steps we ought to take in response to fear, with urgings to take heart, for he has overcome….to allow his perfect love to cast out all fear….and to not choose to live in fear as he has redeemed us, summoning us by name and calling us his own.

God calls us to choose courage, being motivated by his love and by trust in his power and faithfulness. It is the same God stirring in Shiloh’s little heart to grant him the strength to face the ride with the twists and turns who also provides us with a deep well of love that sparks courage for the painful twists and turns in this life. He beckons us by name to join him and find our footing in his presence, that we may choose courage in the face of fear.

John 16:33 (NLT)
I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”

1 John 4:18 (NLT)
Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love.

Isaiah 43:1 (NKJV)
But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.

Confession and Community

I have to confess, today this devotional is something I really just need to write for myself. Of course, my prayer is that you may find encouragement, resonance or divine revelation as the Spirit moves through these humble words…but I just need to be upfront about where it’s coming from. Because we are family, right?

These last few weeks I have found myself feeling distanced from the Father. I’ve heard his gentle whispers, and found myself turning instead to the senseless noise of the busyness around me. I’ve caught glimpses of his goodness and hope, yet chose to remain in the somewhat satisfying despair of more bad news and disappointments that the world offers.

Living in my little corner of self-pity and exhaustion has not produced a wealth of inspiration to draw from in writing a devotional blog. But it does allow me to be honest and to expose a season of struggle. On top of that, by forcing myself to sit down and take inventory of how I’ve spent my time and where I have let my thoughts wander as of late, I can call that out and invite the Spirit to come in and renew, transform, and refresh.

So thank you, for (likely unknowingly) functioning as my plumb line of accountability. Thank you for functioning as the Church: a space for people who are broken to come find God’s healing in form of connection and relationship. Brené Brown, a favorite author of mine and familiar to many in the City Salt clan, describes this so beautifully: “Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” And we know that the Church is meant to be the ideal environment to practice vulnerability, as we come together to kneel before the Cross.

My prayer and hope is that my confession and transparency may not simply function as a story about me. May you be reminded that the divulging of our struggles and burdens is what allows us to find others who have an extra hand to help us carry them to the feet of Jesus. May you reflect in gratitude on the beauty of being a part of a body that breeds connection and safety. And may you find healing and sweet grace when bring yourself back to the faithful forgiveness of our Lord.

Hebrews 10:19-25 “Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

"Drawing Near" by Britni D'Eliso

I’ve noticed a recent trend in parenting articles (my go-to leisure reading in this season of life) that something parents can do to help support the development of boundaries early on in their children is to resist the urge to “force” their kiddos to hug or kiss friends and family members before they are ready. Naturally, some children are wired to be more physically affectionate than others and take no issue with handing out hugs like candy. My son Shiloh falls into a different category of being more hesitant to make physical contact with others, often even with people he knows. It has been a learning curve for us as parents to respect his process of establishing safety and to encourage him to continue observing his own feelings and perception of his surroundings before conforming to the norms of what might unfairly be expected of him. And of course, as a three year old, he can also demonstrate some defiance in refusing to give a hug to someone he knows as safe, just to be a stinker.

Our tender Father is the one who designed us with these boundaries and emotional safeguards with the intent that we are prepared to protect our fragile hearts in this often treacherous world. And He follows that design so beautifully by giving us that same respect and time to acclimate before we are ushered into his arms. He remains available, with a posture open to us pressing near, while allowing us to enter his embrace as we feel safe and ready to be vulnerable. 

He knows that some of us have been wounded, and our sense of safety has been skewed, while others of us are wired to be cautious and contemplative before diving into the depths of the relationship he has intended to have with us. And for those of his children, he understands that forced proximity might more resemble restraint and suffocating rather than intimacy.

When we are ready to surrender our qualms and receive the embrace that he offers, we find a source of endless revelations and the deep calling out to deep. Beyond that, we have permission to be still. In the arms of the Father we experience complete peace, as his arms wrap around us and calm the fidgeting of our anxious thoughts and restless hearts.

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart. Isaiah 40:11