Everything you want...

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

-- Jack Canfield

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about fear lately and the ways in which it manifests itself. I’ve looked at the places in my life where I’ve allowed fear to become prevalent, and I realize it’s caused me to play it too safe, live inside a tiny box, hide in the background, and do only the minimum. I’ve made friends with fear, allowed it to be my buddy, and travel with me to some of the most important places I go. I’ve let fear write my life’s story, and given it the power to cosign what happened yesterday and dictate what transpires today. Fear’s fingerprints are everywhere, including the shades of beige on the walls of my house, the black pants for each day, and the predictableness and pedestrianism of my job. Fear has hung its hat here and dug its feet in as if it’s paying rent.

I’ve effortlessly and unceremoniously subscribed to the protective value, or the safety net, fear provides. When in fear, I’m careful, cautious, and unsurprising. Fear doesn’t require me to be anything but ordinary, and at least with ordinary, I don’t get wounded or bruised, and certainly my heart won’t be stomped or broken. Fear’s mere existence in my life certainly keeps me from veering off a prescribed and cultivated path, stepping off the straight, bright line, and failing. And, at a minimum, yielding to fear means I rarely have to say “I’m sorry,” “I forgive you,” or even “I love you.”

But, indubitably, I know that fear is limiting.

I know I wasn’t given the spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7), and that God is always with me (Isaiah 41:10). I know God is my light, salvation, and stronghold, and there is no one/thing to fear (Psalm 27:1). I know that God has overcome the world so that I can have peace (John 16:33).

I know that on the other side of my fears is everything I’ve ever wanted. I know that fear isn’t real, that it’s perceived and often extreme. I know that facing my fears is where growth occurs, and that any rational human being – which I consider myself to be – knows that fear is a choice.

So, while fear has attached itself to my past and has marks on my present life, I can’t allow it to continue to order my steps. I am in no way ordinary and acting so for the sake of safety is a lie. Cautiousness and prudence are germane for thoughtful living, but they shouldn’t expel moving ahead. Because my heart desires to unreservedly give love and be loved, I cannot permit fear to continue to cage it in. I won’t give fear the consent to govern my future.

To that end, when in fear, I can stand still to pray for God’s covering from the weight fear bears and take deep, long breaths to inhale enough oxygen to keep my brain from going into overdrive/overwhelm/overthink. Once calm, I can assess what’s causing the bout of anxiety, searching myself truthfully, and rationally take in the sights and feels of what’s directing it. I can then insightfully ask myself critical questions like “what will this require of me?”, “what is my heart telling me?”, “Lord, what would you have me do?”, and any other necessary questions that will help me to break down the actions needed to move forward in a manageable manner.

Once I’ve done all of this – as many times as it takes, in whatever amount of time it takes – I have an obligation to myself to move on what I’ve surmised. I may still be afraid – ha, I’ll probably still be afraid – but if I don’t move I’ll never know the other side of fear. I won’t know how truly fantastic I am or how it feels to really know joy. At the end of my days, I want to be among those who say I have no more because I overcame fear and did all I was to do.

From this point on, fear will be my springboard to fulfillment.