10 Ways fear robs us; one way Jesus trumps fear.
1. FEAR ROBS ME OF EXPERIENCING GOD’S FAVOR
I’m way more concerned about what people think of me. Pleasing people is my goal and although it’s an ever-moving target, I keep trying to hit the bull’s-eye of their approval. If people compliment me, I exhaust myself making sure I never disappoint people—or I give up entirely. I must know what they think.
2. FEAR ROBS ME OF HEARING GOD’S VOICE
When things go well, when I receive accolades, I miss God’s kind and tender, “Well done,” believing that it simply can’t be true. My ears are tuned to their thoughts and opinions—they’ve become my standard. When God lovingly rebukes me, I run back to their latest compliments and feed on them for a while.
3. FEAR ROBS ME OF HONORING AND OBEYING GOD’S LEADING
When I receive direction in prayer or conviction through a sermon or sense the Holy Spirit while reading my Bible, I feel a momentary call, a renewed vision, a rush of freedom that encourages me to step out in faith. But if I do that, people will judge me, so I wait, rethink, and conclude that what I heard was probably just my own thoughts and ideas anyway.
4. FEAR ROBS MY TRUST IN GOD
I take great measures to ensure that I am safe from what people can do to me. My family’s health and behavior, my job, daily inconveniences, schedules, unpredictable relationships, even my pain—these must all be managed. It is all within my power to control. I am risk-averse. Circumstances are better determined by a spin doctor than the great physician, Jesus.
5. FEAR ROBS ME OF PURSUING CONFLICT RESOLUTION
Relationships wither as I refuse to address sin and allow its consequences to flourish. Prickly sinful patterns go unchallenged and I only hang out with those who “get” me. I’m certain that people won’t respond lovingly so I avoid building intimacy.
6. FEAR ROBS ME OF RECEIVING CORRECTION
I don’t trust people because I’m sure their words will hurt me. I miss the comfort of familiar lies. I internalize the worst interpretation possible and focus on my perception of reality. I prefer my own exaggerated version of events. What will they think of me if I’m wrong? Admitting I don’t know or saying I’m sorry just looks weak.
7. FEAR ROBS ME OF BEING FULLY KNOWN IN COMMUNITY
Exposure threatens my carefully crafted exterior. If I let people get close to me they’ll hurt me. Self-protection ensures my identity stays intact. Intimacy and deeper relationships are for other people. Opportunities to serve people should leave them in my debt. Isolation is my friend.
8. FEAR ROBS ME OF GRATITUDE AND JOY
If I focus on resentment, I can remain entitled. If I’m too grateful for something it will be taken away. Childlike joy isn’t very dignified and my dignity is fragile.
9. FEAR ROBS ME OF MY VOICE
I doubt that God could speak through the Holy Spirit in me. I cease to encourage or exhort others in case it’s not well received. I neglect opportunities to speak out in faith because I fear their evaluation, their disagreement, or their mockery.
10. FEAR ROBS ME OF REST AND PEACE
I’m so consumed with self-recrimination that my daytimes and my dreams are filled with mental tossing. I re-evaluate and reassess my words and actions. I’m defensive and irritable, under pressure to succeed.
I am convicted of how often I have found comfort in their commendation instead of the Holy Spirit’s conviction and I wonder, How can God stand to know that I have chosen to worship you instead of him? How can I be in his presence and confess that I’ve loved your approval more than his? That your words are louder than his voice? Oh Lord, forgive me for my unfaithfulness.
HOW HAS FEAR ROBBED YOU?
You may feel exposed just talking about it. We hate to admit our idolatry, but our fear has cost us, and the wages of our sin is death. We chose slavery and condemnation when we chose to please man—all the while God offers the free gift of life in Christ (Rom. 6:23). As Paul says to the Galatians, “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Those who fear man are described in Jeremiah 17 as parched wasteland, a picture of spiritual poverty and in John 12 the fearful authorities loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God. We are glory thieves, and the struggle to escape this deception is not new.
HERE IS MERCY
But here is mercy: “the fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.” True comfort is found in the kind discipline of my heavenly Father, who I can trust completely. I worship him because, like David, I would rather fall into the hands of the living God than into the hands of man (2 Sam. 24:14). I love his correction, his approval, his guidance, and his voice. In learning to worship him, I have found freedom from the demands of man. He takes all my sin and fear and replaces it with holy fear of him. People, whom my flesh fears, exert power over me no longer.
Joyfully, the gospel tells us that for those who are in Christ, there is no condemnation—we’ve been set free in Jesus from the law of sin and death. All who are led by the Spirit of God are no longer slaves but sons. As it says in Romans, “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry ‘Abba! Father!’”
No longer in bondage to each other, we are liberated to serve a kind Father who has made it possible in Jesus for us to do so: fearlessly.
If you approach the world with the apron of a servant, then you are allowed to go places that you can’t go if you approach it with the crown of a king.
– Jon Foreman (via healoneisgod) Via We could do it, you know. Leave the district.God has put something on my mind. One thing I absolutely hate about living in a broken world is that we get separated from each other by our sorrows. We feel unqualified to speak to those who have suffered more than us, out of fear of disrespect. Like how I don’t want to offend a fellow human by making it seem as though the loss of a parent is something around which I could possibly wrap my feeble brain. We can no more understand the loss of a loved one than a pancake can understand the one who made it. There are many, many people that have endured pain miles beyond anything I would recognize as bearable human experience. Compared to 99% of the world, my life is a cakewalk. Seriously. And I feel as though I am in no place to speak encouragement into the life of a child who has lost their parent to war, or a couple who has learned that their unborn baby is dying. But maybe a lack of words is just part of being human. I don’t think a language made of words imagined by created beings can truly encompass human loss. Is there going to be a point where we learn that none of us can understand any of it? We can’t make sense of it because it doesn’t make sense to us.
I know one thing: there is One who does understand. He sees our passion and our suffering and our fears and our depression and our mourning, and he encompasses all of that. And while we suffer through life on earth believing that we are alone God is there screaming from heaven that he loves us. He draws near to us and keeps track of our tears and puts his hand on our back as we heave great sighs of exhaustion and immense distress. He carries us until morning. If we could be made to understand, he might calmly explain to us why our parents abandon us, or why friend say hurtful things to one another, or why parents sometimes have to outlive their children, or why good, innocent people die because of war or the negligence of others. While we shudder in our sufferings, he is steadfast.
Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
- Psalm 143:8
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
- Psalm 139:11-12
(Source: Spotify)
That good feeling when
there’s this guy that hates you.
because you were almost together but you said “no”.
because it just wasn’t right.
but you were as stupid as possible about saying “no”.
cue year-long angry silence.
cue wondering and worrying and praying to God that you chose the better of two evils.
and he leaves to join the marines.
and you frequent his facebook page not because you wonder what if you had said “yes” but simply out of a genuine desire to make sure he’s doing okay and that you didn’t hurt his heart too badly.
and then one day.
you find that he’s got a new girl who is lovely and supportive and visits him on the military base and fits perfectly under his arm.
and there’s a great sigh of relief because you’re so glad to see him so happy.
and you can finally be at peace with saying “no” because it turned into something better for the three of you.
tis a good feeling.
:)
“We are people no different from you! We live in a flesh like yours, breathing and bleeding and weeping tears. We are not gods. We are creatures of God, created by God. How could we be gods ourselves? But we know God! We know the one, true, living God! We know him so well that we call him Father. Yes, and this is the God who made the heavens and drenched them in light, who made the earth and dressed it green, who scooped the deep places and filled them with seas, who filled the world with birds and fish and beasts…. And he is the God who sent from heaven rains upon you. He is the God who has given you goodness and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness. And now, in these latter times, this God has sent a Son into the world, by whom we all—all of us, all the people of every nation—can call God Father.”
—Paul, from Paul by Walter Wangerin
We should have painted our front door yellow…it’s not too late…maybe I can surprise dad with a yellow door when he gets home from work?
hahaha ^
About me
French/communications major who loves Jesus, books, bubble wrap, spaghetti, cats, and going new places. One day Kate removed her brain and put it on a webpage.... This is that webpage.
