Sep 13

Sep 13 Fear is a Liar

Fear is a liar

A dirty, no good, filthy liar

And I don’t have to listen to him

This was the very first coloring page I created for my book. I wonder if at the time I even knew what fear really was. I have been writing about fear since 2015. I had compiled a book of journal entries on the topic. I was well aware of how fear tried to play me and had a handle on it. Or so I thought.

Then, March 2020 happened. And instead of concentrating and focusing on just my own fears, I was suddenly confronted and bombarded with the fears of the whole world, too.

Fear came at every angle. Fear of death. Fear of social stigma. Fear of illness. Fear of discomfort. Fear of our freedom being taken away. Fear that the life we knew before 2020 would never come back.

Fear is a liar, and a persistent one at that.

Some days he stood outside my home, screaming, waving his hands, and demanding my attention.

Some days he stood on the other side of my door. He knocked softly, but persistently. Just to remind me he was still there.

Some days he stood outside my window, watching for his opportunity.

Somedays I forgot he was there, or I didn’t see him at all. But did he ever actually leave? Or was he just planning a new strategy to attack me from a different angle?

Fear is a dirty liar, and he will do everything he can to get me to believe his lie. It's what he needs from me. For fear to work, for his lies to win, he needs me.

Fear wants me to partner with him. He needs me to listen to him. Fear wants me to turn my eyes from the face of my Savior and focus on the waves around me. Fear wants me to forget the truth I stand on. He doesn't need me to turn my back on God, he just needs to loosen my footing. He needs to distract me just long enough so that I am no longer effective.

Fear wins when I am no longer walking in my purpose. Fear wins when I no longer am a weapon for the kingdom of heaven. Fear wins when I am no longer worried about the business of my Father, but am preoccupied with my own needs.

Fear wins when I give up.

And once again, fear is outside my home, waging a guerilla war on me. He is dying for me to divert my focus and turn away.

The past two weeks have been a battle.

What should have been a joyous and exciting time became one of survival. My body that had been strong for so long failed me. My mind felt broken. Something I thought I had been set free from had shown up again. From the age of 16 I had suffered from complex migraines. Its an uncommon, not well known neurological condition. I thought I was done with them, but here they were again.

When I get one of my migraines, it's not just a headache. I get the exact same symptoms of a stroke. I get confused, I lose the ability to speak or communicate. I lose vision and feeling on one side of my body. They are terrifying, but even at their peak I only had a handful a year.

In the past two weeks I have had 8.

It's been debilitating and terrifying, maybe even more so because I don’t know what's wrong. I feel afraid because without health insurance I do not have the luxury of undergoing a long laundry list of tests to come up with a possible diagnosis. I went through months of testing as a teenager with no real results or answers. I feel afraid because they can come on without warning and possibly leave me stranded or completely disrupt my entire day. I feel afraid that this is becoming my new normal: that the rest of my life will be lived as a broken person.

I spent the last 18 months keeping fear at bay and standing strong, but fear came for my body and I broke.

My mind raced with every what if I could think of and then some.

What if I’m seriously ill? What if I die soon? What if there is something physically wrong with me? What if I never accomplish my goals? What if I permanently become disabled? What if I already peaked and it's all downhill from here?

God, what if?

I asked Him these questions, and he gently answered me with His own.

“What if?

What if the storm does come?

What if your body is broken?

What if you were to die young?

What if?

What then?

Even if, would you still trust me? Would you still trust that I loved you? That I can and have redeemed you? Do you trust me that even as the enemy is coming for you I will hold up my arm against them? Do you trust me when I say no weapon formed against you will prosper? Do you trust me, even if, even when things don't make sense? Do you trust that I still love you?

And even if. Even if the worst comes true, so what?

What voice will you believe? The voice of love and truth or the voice of fear and death. The voice asking for you to hope the best or the voice asking you to expect the worst?”

Romans 8:38 (my paraphrased version) says:

For I am wholeheartedly convinced: NOTHING

No state of my being.
Not death.

Not life.

No spiritual creature.

No angel.

No demon.

No present situation.

No possible future.

No height.

No depth.

In fact, nothing. NOTHING IN ALL OF CREATION.