A friend of mine sent me an email in response to one of these recent posts pertaining to the monsters of fear and anger within us. She recently learned, from a great Sunday morning message, something else about the resident fear and anger we tend to carry with us. It is definitely worth passing on!
She shared that these two trouble makers are basically rooted in unmet needs. This is a powerful insight that I've been mulling over ever since she emailed me. When a legitimate need in our lives goes unmet, it produces a myriad of emotions that can probably be summed up in frustration and hurt. When we don't know how to properly deal with that frustration and hurt, they go unresolved.
I think this is how fear and anger start to move in and set up camp inside us, becoming our natural and first responses to many things. It's easy to see how a childhood dotted with violation and injury could open the door to the establishment of a fear default. Likewise a childhood of being ignored by one or both parents, being mistreated and disrespected, opens the door for anger to take up residence and become our default response in life.
In recognizing these roots of our fear and anger, we can begin to bring them to God asking questions about them as we embark with Him on the journey of ridding our inner corridors of these pacing resident monsters.
What am I truly afraid of here, Lord?
Why am I so angry over this, Lord?
Is there an unmet need that has triggered this response?
Am I reacting out of reflex because of a series of unmet needs in my past?
What do You want me to know about my fear (or anger) right now, Lord?
Pausing to ask God these questions and slowing down to listen for His answers, we can find "the help of His presence" (Psalm 42:5), remember that He is for us (Psalm 56:9) and wants to lead us into freedom from the hindrances of fear and anger ( John 10:10 - "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly." and Galatians 5:1 - "It was for freedom that Christ set us free, therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.")
As we gain insights as to the roots of our fear or anger, encompassing them in prayer is the next step.
Lord, when I'm feeling vulnerable, neglected or mistreated, help me to run to You as my ever vigilant Father, protector and provider.
Help me to find my shelter in You and realize that how others treat me is not a declaration of my value.
Help me to not let fear run roughshod over my relationships, my days, my joys, and purpose.
Help me to trust You with me. Help me to place my vulnerability into Your hands and to know that I am safe there.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Trust Again
Ahh, trust. That word that's so important. The word that sums up the way to deal with every issue we face in life.
Trust God. But how? How do we do it? What's it look like and what's it feel like?
Trust, to me, seems like a bundle of contradictions. It is a passive action. The “doing” of letting go. The action of hands off. It is a strange mixture of doing a “non-doing.”
When I trust, I let go of all rights to control an event. I remove my hands of influence on the outcome. I move toward God.
It's almost, for a moment, an antsy feeling. Like trying so hard not to touch something I've just relinquished over to someone else. It's a matter of handing it over to God and not trying to manage it.
It's funny how after all these years in the company of fear that I somehow grew to think of fear as a tool with which I can somehow manipulate my circumstances. It seems I must subconsciously believe that by being afraid of something, I can control it. Or at least prevent getting blindsided by it.
But fear only serves to steal from me. It steals life, and joy, and peace. Bigger still, it steals from me the beauty of a trusting relationship with God.
I will not know God's perfect love for me if I continue distrusting Him.
If I continue trusting my fear I will never experience God's love.
I must trust His love to know His love.
Trust is a choice. With each additional choice, trust grows and gets easier. Choosing to trust God over my fear is always, always rewarding. It is always strengthening, always beneficial. As I trust Him more, I get to experience His love more. And that's just plain awesome!
Trust God. But how? How do we do it? What's it look like and what's it feel like?
Trust, to me, seems like a bundle of contradictions. It is a passive action. The “doing” of letting go. The action of hands off. It is a strange mixture of doing a “non-doing.”
When I trust, I let go of all rights to control an event. I remove my hands of influence on the outcome. I move toward God.
It's almost, for a moment, an antsy feeling. Like trying so hard not to touch something I've just relinquished over to someone else. It's a matter of handing it over to God and not trying to manage it.
It's funny how after all these years in the company of fear that I somehow grew to think of fear as a tool with which I can somehow manipulate my circumstances. It seems I must subconsciously believe that by being afraid of something, I can control it. Or at least prevent getting blindsided by it.
But fear only serves to steal from me. It steals life, and joy, and peace. Bigger still, it steals from me the beauty of a trusting relationship with God.
I will not know God's perfect love for me if I continue distrusting Him.
If I continue trusting my fear I will never experience God's love.
I must trust His love to know His love.
Trust is a choice. With each additional choice, trust grows and gets easier. Choosing to trust God over my fear is always, always rewarding. It is always strengthening, always beneficial. As I trust Him more, I get to experience His love more. And that's just plain awesome!
Monday, December 5, 2011
Relinquishing The Monster
There is a scene from C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce I'm thinking of right now. The book depicts an imaginary bus ride to heaven where the travelers, hardened by years of self-consumed living and rejection of God, experience the extraordinary “realness” of heaven. They interact with and witness residents of this land of heaven. One scene contains the exchange between a heavenly being and a man who would like to stay but cannot without leaving behind his friend. His “friend” is a lizard-like creature on his shoulder. It whispers in his ear, influencing him mercilessly and growing larger and heavier on his shoulder the more the man attempts to resist him. The man doesn't realize that his familiar companion is no friend at all. He's grown so used to its presence that he greatly fears removing him from his shoulder, even in exchange for heaven itself. The fact remains that this gentleman cannot stay in heaven and keep his lizard. Its removal would mean its death. He has to relinquish his lizard, essentially giving his permission for it to be removed and killed. When he finally did so, the lizard shreiked at the touch of it's slayer. In agony it shriveled and died. It was painful for the man to watch. But then, before his eyes, it turned into an altogether different creature of such beauty the man was amazed. This new and beautiful creature did accompany him in his new heavenly residence.
Like the “lizard guy” in The Great Divorce, we have to voluntarily relinquish our monsters of unhealed fear, relinquisth them for removal. To change metaphors here, we have to voluntarily submit the infected appendage to our Doctor for lancing. But our lizard, our infection, is intangible and so much harder to grab hold of in order to relinquish and surrender over to the Healer. But God is good. He knows this. He knows the difficulty of the relinquishment we face. He knows our weakness and is mindful that we are but dust. (Psalm 103:14) Very precious and highly valued “dust” to Him. He longs for us to give Him full access to our monstrous infection of unhealed fear. He longs for us to trust Him with any pain that accompanies the healing we so deeply long for. It is well worth it and I want it. How do I do it? It all boils down to TRUST again.
Lord help us to lay hold of our intangible infections and lay them out before Your surgeon's hand of healing. Help us to see what to surrender, even it's just a big ball of unclear fearfulness. Give us the courage to give You full access. Help us trust You with any pain that might come from facing things we've avoided for too long. You are the Perfect Healer. You are the Perfect Lover of our souls. We long for the freedom, peace, and rest You died to give us. We will choose to trust You with Your processes for clearing the way of our hearts to receive it.
Like the “lizard guy” in The Great Divorce, we have to voluntarily relinquish our monsters of unhealed fear, relinquisth them for removal. To change metaphors here, we have to voluntarily submit the infected appendage to our Doctor for lancing. But our lizard, our infection, is intangible and so much harder to grab hold of in order to relinquish and surrender over to the Healer. But God is good. He knows this. He knows the difficulty of the relinquishment we face. He knows our weakness and is mindful that we are but dust. (Psalm 103:14) Very precious and highly valued “dust” to Him. He longs for us to give Him full access to our monstrous infection of unhealed fear. He longs for us to trust Him with any pain that accompanies the healing we so deeply long for. It is well worth it and I want it. How do I do it? It all boils down to TRUST again.
Lord help us to lay hold of our intangible infections and lay them out before Your surgeon's hand of healing. Help us to see what to surrender, even it's just a big ball of unclear fearfulness. Give us the courage to give You full access. Help us trust You with any pain that might come from facing things we've avoided for too long. You are the Perfect Healer. You are the Perfect Lover of our souls. We long for the freedom, peace, and rest You died to give us. We will choose to trust You with Your processes for clearing the way of our hearts to receive it.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Longing For Healing
I've come to see that unhealed fear and anger live with me all the time. They're crying out for healing but real healing often comes with more pain, like lancing an inflamed infection. When I bury the real reasons for my amassed collection of unhealed fears and anger, I continue avoiding them rather than present them to the Healer for the necessary lancing. On some subconscious level I, and others like me, may even hope that occasional (or frequent) expressions, outbursts, and ventings will asuage the monster and soothe the infection. But they don't. We need healing. Full healing. Not just outlets to express and vent the pent up fear residing in us. Not just excuses to unleash the monster of our unhealed anger or fear. We need the monster to go away altogether. We need it to be shrunk, in the face of the healing power and majesty of our Almighty Savior. Shrunk, slain, and booted out.
We need to – somehow – present the whole pacing monster of our unhealed fear and anger to God and allow His skillful examination to tame it, shrink it, and remove it. To heal it.
Seeing my fear and anger in this way – as not merely reactions to which I'm mysteriously prone, but rather almost as objects resident in me – I've come to more clearly see how they mis-express themselves in my life. My choices in the face of experiences long ago gave birth to a monster I have not understood. Seeing my fear as a pent-up accumulated mass of unhealed influence, which paces around waiting for an excuse to vent itself, helps me understand why I fall prey to it so often. Understanding this dimishes my sense of being fear's victim and reveals in a greater way my power to take it to God for Him to deal with. Not just the fear of the moment, but the whole ugly monster that's taken up residence inside me.
We need to – somehow – present the whole pacing monster of our unhealed fear and anger to God and allow His skillful examination to tame it, shrink it, and remove it. To heal it.
Seeing my fear and anger in this way – as not merely reactions to which I'm mysteriously prone, but rather almost as objects resident in me – I've come to more clearly see how they mis-express themselves in my life. My choices in the face of experiences long ago gave birth to a monster I have not understood. Seeing my fear as a pent-up accumulated mass of unhealed influence, which paces around waiting for an excuse to vent itself, helps me understand why I fall prey to it so often. Understanding this dimishes my sense of being fear's victim and reveals in a greater way my power to take it to God for Him to deal with. Not just the fear of the moment, but the whole ugly monster that's taken up residence inside me.
Monday, November 21, 2011
A New Light On Anger
In looking at this whole concept of fear's residence inside me, I've had to face the fact that there's some anger in me, too. It's probably related to the fear; fear and anger often go hand in hand. For instance, I've observed for some time a crazy reaction of mine. If I accidentally do something that causes a sudden burst of pain, like pinching a finger in a drawer, I erupt in a burst of anger. I hate it, but it's true. I've looked at this trait of mine with sadness and embarrassment but also with puzzlement. “What is this really about?”
Another natural tendency I have to fight is the ease with which I can harden my heart when it's hurt. It's tempting to be unforgiving. Clearly this is a by-product of the fear in me. It can play itself out like a script. Someone hurts me. I feel unsafe. I feel afraid. I close my heart down. I keep it closed in self-protection.
In seeing fear's and anger's ability to set up camp inside of us, I've had to look at these personal matters under this new light. I realize it's the unhealed fear and unhealed anger in me that cause all the problems. They're the intangible monsters pacing the hallways of my life seeking a means of release. They wait for an opportunity to latch onto and ride, giving vent to themselves and justifying their existence and expression. See? See? I have good reason to be afraid/angry/unforgiving!
Anger. Fear. Hardness. Unforgiveness. They exist in those of us who seem to be doing lifelong battle with them. They want full expression, full release. Take my finger-caught-in-the-drawer scenario. I'm going about my business, fixing dinner, when wham! - I don't get my finger out of the way fast enough. Instant anger. Huge anger. Out of proportion anger. The pain of the injury plus the fear caused by its suddenness strike the bullseye of the anger and fear resident in me all the time. And right on cue, I blow a gasket. First I get angry. Then I cry.
When fear and anger go unhealed – when the pain of incidents that evoked fear and anger in us go unhealed - they pace about for release. A very godly woman once told me that when we bury our emotions, we always bury them alive. Long ago and far away when the first frightening and unjust hurts occurred in my life, I didn't know what to do with the pain. I stuffed it away and buried it out of sight. Year after year of responding to pain this way did not kill the monsters of fear and anger in me. I just ignored them. All the emotions I bury will remain alive until they are healed. They will pace about like a monster in the corridors of my days and experiences. They will seek any door of opportunity that cracks itself open and they will burst into the situation in an attempt to vent some of the festering pain from which they originated. They oppress, they spew, they vent. They want to be heard and justified and validated.
But what they really want is healing.
Another natural tendency I have to fight is the ease with which I can harden my heart when it's hurt. It's tempting to be unforgiving. Clearly this is a by-product of the fear in me. It can play itself out like a script. Someone hurts me. I feel unsafe. I feel afraid. I close my heart down. I keep it closed in self-protection.
In seeing fear's and anger's ability to set up camp inside of us, I've had to look at these personal matters under this new light. I realize it's the unhealed fear and unhealed anger in me that cause all the problems. They're the intangible monsters pacing the hallways of my life seeking a means of release. They wait for an opportunity to latch onto and ride, giving vent to themselves and justifying their existence and expression. See? See? I have good reason to be afraid/angry/unforgiving!
Anger. Fear. Hardness. Unforgiveness. They exist in those of us who seem to be doing lifelong battle with them. They want full expression, full release. Take my finger-caught-in-the-drawer scenario. I'm going about my business, fixing dinner, when wham! - I don't get my finger out of the way fast enough. Instant anger. Huge anger. Out of proportion anger. The pain of the injury plus the fear caused by its suddenness strike the bullseye of the anger and fear resident in me all the time. And right on cue, I blow a gasket. First I get angry. Then I cry.
When fear and anger go unhealed – when the pain of incidents that evoked fear and anger in us go unhealed - they pace about for release. A very godly woman once told me that when we bury our emotions, we always bury them alive. Long ago and far away when the first frightening and unjust hurts occurred in my life, I didn't know what to do with the pain. I stuffed it away and buried it out of sight. Year after year of responding to pain this way did not kill the monsters of fear and anger in me. I just ignored them. All the emotions I bury will remain alive until they are healed. They will pace about like a monster in the corridors of my days and experiences. They will seek any door of opportunity that cracks itself open and they will burst into the situation in an attempt to vent some of the festering pain from which they originated. They oppress, they spew, they vent. They want to be heard and justified and validated.
But what they really want is healing.
Monday, November 14, 2011
A New Light On Fear
I've learned something new about my fear. I've known it to a small degree for a long time but I have recently seen it with so much more clarity that it seems brand new. For the next couple of posts I'll be writing about it.
Have you ever heard the saying, “No one can make you angry”? The concept is referring to the casting upon others the blame for our own anger, rather than owning it ourselves. It conveys the ideas that anger is a choice, that people don't cause our anger, but their behaviors trigger a response of anger in us. The same goes for inappropriate fear. People and circumstances don't necessarily make me afraid. People and circumstances trigger fearful responses in me, but fear is a choice I make.
As I was talking with a friend recently she rephrased this whole concept in a way that made some significant lights to go on inside me. We were talking about anger and she said it something like this: “anger is there in a person and it finds excuses to come out.”
From whatever sources long ago, and because God's healing was not applied to them at the time, fear has taken up an entrenched residence inside me. Unhealed fear. Like anger for some people, it's there inside me. And it seeks expression. It seeks release. Like an intangible monster trapped in a corridor of closed doors, it seems to pace along the corridor of my day and my experiences. It searches for any door that might be ajar through which it can burst out of it's confining hallway and into whatever situation might be at hand. Sometimes it breaks in at the least provocation, not because there's a valid or rational reason but simply because there was the opportunity.
This shed so much light onto the subjects of fear and anger, particularly my own. It provides me with another dose of evidence that my emotions are not reliable. Because it can burst into any situation - logical or illogical, warranted or unwarranted - my fear cannot be trusted. That's an unfortunate thing because fear is a God-given emotion, designed to protect us from real harm. An out of kilter fear sensor is not a safe thing. While safety is the thing I tend to long for most, my misfiring sensor – my pacing monster – latches onto things I shouldn't be afraid of and actually keeps me from the things my heart longs for in life and relationships. It keeps me from freedom and from love.
Have you ever heard the saying, “No one can make you angry”? The concept is referring to the casting upon others the blame for our own anger, rather than owning it ourselves. It conveys the ideas that anger is a choice, that people don't cause our anger, but their behaviors trigger a response of anger in us. The same goes for inappropriate fear. People and circumstances don't necessarily make me afraid. People and circumstances trigger fearful responses in me, but fear is a choice I make.
As I was talking with a friend recently she rephrased this whole concept in a way that made some significant lights to go on inside me. We were talking about anger and she said it something like this: “anger is there in a person and it finds excuses to come out.”
From whatever sources long ago, and because God's healing was not applied to them at the time, fear has taken up an entrenched residence inside me. Unhealed fear. Like anger for some people, it's there inside me. And it seeks expression. It seeks release. Like an intangible monster trapped in a corridor of closed doors, it seems to pace along the corridor of my day and my experiences. It searches for any door that might be ajar through which it can burst out of it's confining hallway and into whatever situation might be at hand. Sometimes it breaks in at the least provocation, not because there's a valid or rational reason but simply because there was the opportunity.
This shed so much light onto the subjects of fear and anger, particularly my own. It provides me with another dose of evidence that my emotions are not reliable. Because it can burst into any situation - logical or illogical, warranted or unwarranted - my fear cannot be trusted. That's an unfortunate thing because fear is a God-given emotion, designed to protect us from real harm. An out of kilter fear sensor is not a safe thing. While safety is the thing I tend to long for most, my misfiring sensor – my pacing monster – latches onto things I shouldn't be afraid of and actually keeps me from the things my heart longs for in life and relationships. It keeps me from freedom and from love.
Monday, January 24, 2011
It's All About Trust
I'm in a women's Bible study and we're going through the book, Trusting God: Even When Life Hurts
, by Jerry Bridges. In the chapter about choosing to trust, he describes that most often we don't feel like trusting God, especially in adversity. That's how I've been most of my life. I've wanted to wait for my feelings to calm down before I trust God. In the height of the fear, it's more natural for me to trust my feelings - the fear itself - than to deny those powerful feelings and trust God.
But God doesn't work that way. He wants us to trust Him despite our feelings. Trust first and our feelings will follow. It is by trusting Him that the feelings of security, peace and calm come to us. I've heard this before. I've experienced it and know it to be true. I've mostly heard it applied to love. If we don't feel like loving someone or doing loving acts for them, we should do them anyway and the feelings will follow. (I find praying for people greatly enlarges my feelings of love for them.) By doing a loving act for them, we fertilize the soil of our feelings and then the feelings of love emerge. Bridges points out it's the same with trusting God. In the midst of adversity we don't feel like trusting God. Our lives are upside down with anxiety and we feel like panicking, worrying, taking matters into our own hands, etc. But when we choose to trust Him, He brings peace to us. Trust first, feelings follow.
In the study guide, one of the questions is: "Why do you think our emotions work this way?"
While we could speed past this question with a superficial answer of "that's how God made us," if we slow down we find it's a very interesting question. Why would God make our emotions like that? Why would He design us so that our feelings follow our choices? I bumbled around in answering this for awhile, writing things like "because our feelings are unreliable, fickle, and have been affected by our sinful nature", but that doesn't really get at the why. Why did you make our emotions that way, God?
Then I was struck with a thought. There is a deeper reality - a truer truth - than our earthly experience. God's eternal spiritual world is truer than this earthly world we live in. There is a truer value system than the one we have from our finite earthly perspective. Things can look dismal in our earthly world, but the fact is God is in control and has a far weightier good intended for us than the scales of our present adversity would lead us to believe. Our loving God is trustworthy. When our feelings lie to us and the danger seems more real than His trustworthiness, we must trust Him.
And trusting God is what it's all about.
I think He made our emotions to follow our choices, as in the examples of loving others and trusting Him, because it makes trusting Him a necessity.
OK, so why would He want trusting Him to be a necessity?
I believe it's because we cannot receive His love without trusting Him. He has all this love for us but we cannot experience it (receive it) if we don't trust Him. Like a child or a puppy, if they don't trust you, they won't come near you. They will not experience your love for them unless they trust you. It doesn't matter how much love you have for them, they'll never know it unless they trust you. It's when they trust you that they can actually receive what you have and want to give them. It's the same with God. If we don't trust Him, we cannot experience His love, regardless of the fact that He is brimming over with love for us.
He loves us so much and longs for us to know His love, to receive His love. He lavishes me with His love everyday but I cannot feel it, know it, experience it, unless I trust Him.
I think God designed our feelings to follow our choices so that trusting Him would be a necessity in this life so that we can know and experience His deep love for us. God IS love. He wants to give us Himself through His great love for us.
It's all about trust because it's all about receiving His love because it's all about receiving HIM.
, by Jerry Bridges. In the chapter about choosing to trust, he describes that most often we don't feel like trusting God, especially in adversity. That's how I've been most of my life. I've wanted to wait for my feelings to calm down before I trust God. In the height of the fear, it's more natural for me to trust my feelings - the fear itself - than to deny those powerful feelings and trust God.But God doesn't work that way. He wants us to trust Him despite our feelings. Trust first and our feelings will follow. It is by trusting Him that the feelings of security, peace and calm come to us. I've heard this before. I've experienced it and know it to be true. I've mostly heard it applied to love. If we don't feel like loving someone or doing loving acts for them, we should do them anyway and the feelings will follow. (I find praying for people greatly enlarges my feelings of love for them.) By doing a loving act for them, we fertilize the soil of our feelings and then the feelings of love emerge. Bridges points out it's the same with trusting God. In the midst of adversity we don't feel like trusting God. Our lives are upside down with anxiety and we feel like panicking, worrying, taking matters into our own hands, etc. But when we choose to trust Him, He brings peace to us. Trust first, feelings follow.
In the study guide, one of the questions is: "Why do you think our emotions work this way?"
While we could speed past this question with a superficial answer of "that's how God made us," if we slow down we find it's a very interesting question. Why would God make our emotions like that? Why would He design us so that our feelings follow our choices? I bumbled around in answering this for awhile, writing things like "because our feelings are unreliable, fickle, and have been affected by our sinful nature", but that doesn't really get at the why. Why did you make our emotions that way, God?
Then I was struck with a thought. There is a deeper reality - a truer truth - than our earthly experience. God's eternal spiritual world is truer than this earthly world we live in. There is a truer value system than the one we have from our finite earthly perspective. Things can look dismal in our earthly world, but the fact is God is in control and has a far weightier good intended for us than the scales of our present adversity would lead us to believe. Our loving God is trustworthy. When our feelings lie to us and the danger seems more real than His trustworthiness, we must trust Him.
And trusting God is what it's all about.
I think He made our emotions to follow our choices, as in the examples of loving others and trusting Him, because it makes trusting Him a necessity.
OK, so why would He want trusting Him to be a necessity?
I believe it's because we cannot receive His love without trusting Him. He has all this love for us but we cannot experience it (receive it) if we don't trust Him. Like a child or a puppy, if they don't trust you, they won't come near you. They will not experience your love for them unless they trust you. It doesn't matter how much love you have for them, they'll never know it unless they trust you. It's when they trust you that they can actually receive what you have and want to give them. It's the same with God. If we don't trust Him, we cannot experience His love, regardless of the fact that He is brimming over with love for us.
He loves us so much and longs for us to know His love, to receive His love. He lavishes me with His love everyday but I cannot feel it, know it, experience it, unless I trust Him.
I think God designed our feelings to follow our choices so that trusting Him would be a necessity in this life so that we can know and experience His deep love for us. God IS love. He wants to give us Himself through His great love for us.
It's all about trust because it's all about receiving His love because it's all about receiving HIM.
Friday, January 21, 2011
When I Am Afraid
I realized something important the other day. I had what I call an "Aha-Duh" moment. Suddenly with new eyes I see something clearly and the insight makes such a difference. It's an "Aha" moment. But, on the other hand, it's such a simple and seemingly obvious concept that it also makes me say, "Duh!", in that I really should have figured it out long ago.
One of my favorite fear verses has been Psalm 56:3-4
When I am afraid, I will put my trust in Thee.
In God, whose word I praise, in God I have put my trust.
I will not be afraid. What can mere man do to me?
Though my immediate answer to that final question for many years was "A lot!", I'm learning that because of God's goodness and my eternal destination, the pain of this earthly life is ultimately inconsequential. This whole matter is deserving of a post of it's own, but for now, I want to share with you my Aha-Duh moment.
Sometimes when I get hit with an attack of giant butterflies of fear, making my stomach hurt with anxiety over some pressing issues, it's usually because I haven't fully taken them to God and hashed them out with Him. In the midst of one of these onslaughts, usually in the middle of the night or early morning hours, I will often recite this verse to myself. The other morning, it just wasn't working very well. The anxiety in my stomach just kept eating at me. My husband has his own unique description for that awful feeling of nervousness or fear in the stomach. Instead of butterflies, he refers to them as rocks. This way he can describe their degree by using the terms pebbles, stones, rocks, or boulders.
The other morning I had boulders. My verse wasn't helping shrink them. Then it hit me. I need to follow up with another one of my favorite verses from the Psalms. Psalm 62:8 says,
Trust in Him at all times, O people
Pour out your heart before Him
God is a refuge for us.
I realized that I tend toward the habit of keeping my fears under the radar of identification. I fall victim to what Proverbs 3:25 advises against: "Do not be afraid of sudden fear..." I often have an image of a whole category that causes me fear and when my mind ventures onto it, a huge wave of fear rolls through my stomach. The fear can make me more afraid. I can get afraid of the sudden attack of fear. I've grown over the years and continue learning to take these painful waves to God and release them to Him. The panic subsides (usually) and I rest a bit in His presence and trustworthiness. But when I stop here, I'm still not working through the fears with Him. Usually I don't even clearly identify them. I'm too busy riding the initial wave that has only grown larger by the "fear of the fear" added to it.
When the general category that causes the original anxiety hits me in the face (and in the stomach) I turn from it and turn to God as fast as I can. But that's only the first step, the purpose of which is to stop the panic. (Aha!) The next step is to intentionally identify the specific things I'm fearing, and one-by-one, discuss them with God, handing them over to Him. I need to "pour out my heart before Him". If I don't, the specifics remain unresolved and merely covered up for the moment. (Duh!) I merely threw a blanket of trust over top of the collective them. It feels better for a time but what I need to do is pick each item up, hold it up to the light, tell God all about it, and then hand it to Him. Only when I specifically identify what I'm afraid of and tell God - not just myself or the air - can I actually be cleaned out.
God can work with my fears honestly admitted to Him. God can work with my anger, disappointment, and any emotions that are run amuck. What He can't work with is pretense. Avoidance. Pretending I'm making it through. If I present my fear generically, or superficially, to God, then my healing from them will be superficial also. If I throw a blanket of trust over the top of specific fears that I simply don't want to take the time to look in the face and name, then I will receive some peace. But in my experience, it seems to be a short-lived and superficial peace.
There are layers to fear. Each one gets more detailed and more specific. If I don't deal with all the layers and all the details, I find they remain to rear their ugly heads later on. The trust and peace I gain from turning my fears over to God will only be as effective as my turning over has been specific. So far, I recognize three layers of fear: the Panic Layer, the Specific Layer, and the Repercussions Layer. I need to examine each layer, work through each thing, pour out my heart to God about each item of my fear. I need to come to the place of trusting Him with each specific item in all the layers.
Here's an example: say your spouse is in the military, fighting overseas. You worry about their safety and just the mere thought of the dangers they face can set the boulders to rocking in your stomach. That's the general category, the Panic Layer. Taking the panic layer to Psalm 54:3-4 can help us catch our breath and subdue the panic enough so we can bravely delve into the next layer, the Specifics Layer.
The Specifics Layer is where live all the specific things you're afraid of. Afraid he'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time, get hit, get hurt, die. Pouring out our hearts to God about our specific fears can bring us specific peace that runs through each item. That peace is beyond all human understanding because our God is so big and so amazing that He can grant us a genuine peaceful heart in the face of the worst circumstances.
The next layer lurks deeper still and the fears running amuck down here are spin-offs from those in the Specifics Layer. They are in the Repercussions Layer. Repercussions of the specifics, in our example, might look like the following. If he gets hurt, it could be bad. It could mean I'd have to fly over to the base in Germany to be with him. I'm afraid of the fear I'll have on the journey. I'm afraid about finding someone to take care of the kids while I'm gone. I'm afraid of what I'll find when I see him. I'm afraid it might be a long road to recovery. I'm afraid if he loses a limb that life will become so difficult I won't be able to cope. I'm afraid he won't be able to cope. I'm afraid he'll die. I'm afraid I won't be able to survive the pain of losing him. I'm afraid of having to deal with all the decisions of a funeral. I'm afraid of raising the kids without a father. I'm afraid of the decisions of where to now live, how I'll start over.
God is a refuge for us, in all the layers of our fears. Running to Him is like running into a cave to seek shelter and protection from a torrential rain. The farther in we go, the more protected we are from the rain. Sometimes it takes courage to even identify our fears. If we don't, though, if we only address the Panic Layer, it's like stopping at the mouth of that refuge cave. We're no longer getting pelted by the full force of the rain but we're still getting wet because we haven't gone far enough inside. Not only do I need the initial panic to subside, I need to make sure I press on and into all the layers of my fear, taking each item out of hiding and to the feet of my Father. Only then will I receive the deep reaching peace I crave.
Ahaaaa. Duh!
When I am afraid I will put my trust in Thee
In God whose word I praise, In God I have put my trust
I will not be afraid. ~Psalm 56:3-4
Trust in Him at all times, O people
Pour out your heart before Him
God is a refuge for us.
~Psalm 62:8
One of my favorite fear verses has been Psalm 56:3-4
When I am afraid, I will put my trust in Thee.
In God, whose word I praise, in God I have put my trust.
I will not be afraid. What can mere man do to me?
Though my immediate answer to that final question for many years was "A lot!", I'm learning that because of God's goodness and my eternal destination, the pain of this earthly life is ultimately inconsequential. This whole matter is deserving of a post of it's own, but for now, I want to share with you my Aha-Duh moment.
Sometimes when I get hit with an attack of giant butterflies of fear, making my stomach hurt with anxiety over some pressing issues, it's usually because I haven't fully taken them to God and hashed them out with Him. In the midst of one of these onslaughts, usually in the middle of the night or early morning hours, I will often recite this verse to myself. The other morning, it just wasn't working very well. The anxiety in my stomach just kept eating at me. My husband has his own unique description for that awful feeling of nervousness or fear in the stomach. Instead of butterflies, he refers to them as rocks. This way he can describe their degree by using the terms pebbles, stones, rocks, or boulders.
The other morning I had boulders. My verse wasn't helping shrink them. Then it hit me. I need to follow up with another one of my favorite verses from the Psalms. Psalm 62:8 says,
Trust in Him at all times, O people
Pour out your heart before Him
God is a refuge for us.
I realized that I tend toward the habit of keeping my fears under the radar of identification. I fall victim to what Proverbs 3:25 advises against: "Do not be afraid of sudden fear..." I often have an image of a whole category that causes me fear and when my mind ventures onto it, a huge wave of fear rolls through my stomach. The fear can make me more afraid. I can get afraid of the sudden attack of fear. I've grown over the years and continue learning to take these painful waves to God and release them to Him. The panic subsides (usually) and I rest a bit in His presence and trustworthiness. But when I stop here, I'm still not working through the fears with Him. Usually I don't even clearly identify them. I'm too busy riding the initial wave that has only grown larger by the "fear of the fear" added to it.
When the general category that causes the original anxiety hits me in the face (and in the stomach) I turn from it and turn to God as fast as I can. But that's only the first step, the purpose of which is to stop the panic. (Aha!) The next step is to intentionally identify the specific things I'm fearing, and one-by-one, discuss them with God, handing them over to Him. I need to "pour out my heart before Him". If I don't, the specifics remain unresolved and merely covered up for the moment. (Duh!) I merely threw a blanket of trust over top of the collective them. It feels better for a time but what I need to do is pick each item up, hold it up to the light, tell God all about it, and then hand it to Him. Only when I specifically identify what I'm afraid of and tell God - not just myself or the air - can I actually be cleaned out.
God can work with my fears honestly admitted to Him. God can work with my anger, disappointment, and any emotions that are run amuck. What He can't work with is pretense. Avoidance. Pretending I'm making it through. If I present my fear generically, or superficially, to God, then my healing from them will be superficial also. If I throw a blanket of trust over the top of specific fears that I simply don't want to take the time to look in the face and name, then I will receive some peace. But in my experience, it seems to be a short-lived and superficial peace.
There are layers to fear. Each one gets more detailed and more specific. If I don't deal with all the layers and all the details, I find they remain to rear their ugly heads later on. The trust and peace I gain from turning my fears over to God will only be as effective as my turning over has been specific. So far, I recognize three layers of fear: the Panic Layer, the Specific Layer, and the Repercussions Layer. I need to examine each layer, work through each thing, pour out my heart to God about each item of my fear. I need to come to the place of trusting Him with each specific item in all the layers.
Here's an example: say your spouse is in the military, fighting overseas. You worry about their safety and just the mere thought of the dangers they face can set the boulders to rocking in your stomach. That's the general category, the Panic Layer. Taking the panic layer to Psalm 54:3-4 can help us catch our breath and subdue the panic enough so we can bravely delve into the next layer, the Specifics Layer.
The Specifics Layer is where live all the specific things you're afraid of. Afraid he'll be in the wrong place at the wrong time, get hit, get hurt, die. Pouring out our hearts to God about our specific fears can bring us specific peace that runs through each item. That peace is beyond all human understanding because our God is so big and so amazing that He can grant us a genuine peaceful heart in the face of the worst circumstances.
The next layer lurks deeper still and the fears running amuck down here are spin-offs from those in the Specifics Layer. They are in the Repercussions Layer. Repercussions of the specifics, in our example, might look like the following. If he gets hurt, it could be bad. It could mean I'd have to fly over to the base in Germany to be with him. I'm afraid of the fear I'll have on the journey. I'm afraid about finding someone to take care of the kids while I'm gone. I'm afraid of what I'll find when I see him. I'm afraid it might be a long road to recovery. I'm afraid if he loses a limb that life will become so difficult I won't be able to cope. I'm afraid he won't be able to cope. I'm afraid he'll die. I'm afraid I won't be able to survive the pain of losing him. I'm afraid of having to deal with all the decisions of a funeral. I'm afraid of raising the kids without a father. I'm afraid of the decisions of where to now live, how I'll start over.
God is a refuge for us, in all the layers of our fears. Running to Him is like running into a cave to seek shelter and protection from a torrential rain. The farther in we go, the more protected we are from the rain. Sometimes it takes courage to even identify our fears. If we don't, though, if we only address the Panic Layer, it's like stopping at the mouth of that refuge cave. We're no longer getting pelted by the full force of the rain but we're still getting wet because we haven't gone far enough inside. Not only do I need the initial panic to subside, I need to make sure I press on and into all the layers of my fear, taking each item out of hiding and to the feet of my Father. Only then will I receive the deep reaching peace I crave.
Ahaaaa. Duh!
When I am afraid I will put my trust in Thee
In God whose word I praise, In God I have put my trust
I will not be afraid. ~Psalm 56:3-4
Trust in Him at all times, O people
Pour out your heart before Him
God is a refuge for us.
~Psalm 62:8
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