Since Lent began, I have been talking much of struggle, shadow, darkness, the desert. I’ve also spoken of how we find ourselves there, who we are there, and who we may yet become in such places.
Our fears significantly shape our desert experiences. We are afraid of what is or what might yet be. We are afraid of telling our truth because of how we might be received (or not). We are afraid to name our deepest desires because we might be perceived as too much, too dangerous, too wild, too bold. The list goes on.
We are afraid.
I’m not afraid to admit it: I don’t like being afraid. I’m not a rollercoaster person. I don’t participate in extreme sports. Nothing about skydiving or deep sea diving appeals to me. Even snorkeling feels like more of an adventure than I want.
But that’s not the kind of fear I most fear. My deepest fears are that I’ll somehow miss something, someone, myself; that I’ll be so insecure or narcissistic or “safe” that I won’t be able to assess (and pursue) the paths/opportunities/gifts that are right in front of me all the time – calling, offering, inviting. I’m afraid that I’ll somehow fail to trust myself enough to do/be/become all that is within my capacity. I’m afraid I won’t have faith.
What if I could allow my fear to be the very thing that helps me let go, trust, and step out…in faith?
There’s a story in the New Testament that tells of Jesus walking on the water. The men in the boat he was approaching were scared out of their wits, thinking they’d seen a ghost. He says, “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” Peter, one of the dazed men, says, “If it’s really you, then command me to come out to you on the water.” Jesus says, “Come.” And, for those of us who know this story, Peter does step out—in faith—only to become frightened and begin sinking like a stone. He does not trust enough. He is afraid.
We’ve traditionally been taught to acknowledge that Peter (and therefore we) do not have enough faith; that our fears are our own fault; that if we only believed harder/more/better, that we wouldn’t sink. Hmmm.
Jan Richardson offers a different version, a different voice, a different take that I like far better:
The Woman Who Walked on Water
She couldn’t remember
how long she had been riding
so low in the water
waves lapping over the edges
of the vessel that defined her limits.
And she couldn’t recall
at what point the oars had become
one with her hands,
their pattern ingrained on her palms.It was not premeditated,
but when she heard that voice
calling over the water,
she let the oars slip
into the darkness
and she set off across the waves.
What if I could allow my fear to be the very thing that helps me let go, trust, and step out…in faith?
What if?
For your reflection?
- Are you afraid? Of what?
- What would it be like for you to let the “oars slip into the darkness and set off across the waves?”
- What if you could allow your fear to be the very thing that helps you let go, trust, and step out in faith?
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
I like this. I like this a lot. I’m just sayin’.
Perfect timing for me.
Thanks!
.-= Deb Owen´s last blog ..Walking with the Wise =-.
Thanks, Deb. I’m grateful – and glad. I’m just sayin’.
What if I could allow my fear to be the very thing that helps me let go, trust, and step out…in faith?
What if? That is a really good question… I am hoping that I have the courage to answer it this week… Here’s to being “oar-less” by Friday afternoon. Thanks for speaking into the storm…
Oarless. Isn’t that lovely? In the storm with you, Rebecca.
Lately, fear has been the very thing pushing me into faith… there was a time when fear was my cozy friend, that seemed to keep me safe. Fear kept me reigned in, coloring in the lines, and keeping everyone happy, even if I felt miserable. Until one day, the worst thing happened.
And I lived through it.
That experience taught me there’s no such thing as safety and that placating fear only provided me with a false sense of security. While facing my fears or, at the very least, acknowledging them and moving forward anyway… well that has helped me develop a different sense of safety… a feeling of faith that I’m stronger and more capable than I know.
It’s funny… but at the end of the day, the only way to know there’s a net there to catch you… is to let yourself fall from the high wire.
.-= Shauntelle´s last blog ..Being Real… =-.
Thanks for this, Shauntelle. You’re right: falling from the hire wire has to happen – even if you’re not sure of the net. And that very act is, indeed, what reminds us that we are stronger and more capable and more amazing and more beautiful than we could have dared imagine!
Beautiful, Ronna. So beautiful. Fear has long kept me from pursuing my dream, my purpose. That which I believed to be my security held me back because I was afraid of what might happen if I let it go. I finally let it go when I took a “what’s the worst that could happen?” approach. I was afraid that staying in the secure zone was actually ruining a good friendship. It was a big part of the push I needed.
So now, I am making plans for walking on water come July. Guess we’ll see…
Oooh. Walking on water by July?!? Can’t wait to see and hear more. Love reading your words and knowing (even slightly) all it has taken for them to be true…Thanks, Angie.
Well, Ronna, today is the day I’m facing a big fear. But I’ll let you read the short, simple, and fearless statement at my blog.
Wish me luck! C~
.-= Coral Levang´s last blog ..Launching a New Boat =-.
SO fabulous, Coral! Marching through the desert boldly…and into green, lush pastures!
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