3 Ways I’ve Learned to Dance with Fear

Fear is a funny thing. It sneaks up on us. If we let it, fear can captivate us. Fear can strangle us from being who we are made to be. It can strip us of the joy found in life’s everyday pleasures. But if we press into it, and we seek to find the root of it, we just might overcome it.

“When you learn to see areas of fear as places where trust is about to grow, fear gives way to courage (Caine 152).

Over the past few months, I have realized how much fear swells up in my heart in various situations. Below are three different instances that I have encountered in my life and how I’ve sought to overcome them.

1. Overcoming the Fear of the Unknown

My dog, Charlie, is (objectively) the cutest dog in the entire world. He is spunky, cuddle-y, and fun-loving. He loves everyone he meets. He antagonizes his little sister but is the greatest protector. Oh how this dog has been the center of attention in me and my husband’s lives. We probably pour too much affection into this dog, but can you blame us? We don’t have kids and these are our closest companions next to each other. I have recently empathized with my dog in regards to a touchy subject that I never thought a dog could teach me. This event has forever changed his life and changed my perspective regarding fear.

Charlie hates when people touch his feet. I mean hey, we all have our issues. Mine is apparently my obsession with my dog. As many of you know, you have to be extremely cautious when cutting a dog’s nails due to their sensitivity of their quick. If you cut too short, you will cause severe pain and bleeding to your dog. We have had multiple people attempt to cut this dog’s nails. The vet has sent us home multiple times because he is “one of the most obnoxious dogs” they have ever seen in the attempt to cut his nails. One weekend when Austin was out of town I was determined. “Ha,” I said to myself, “the vet may have struck out, but clearly they weren’t as determined as I currently am.” He was hurting me every single time he would jump on me. I was also tired of watching him hurt himself as he kept getting caught on the rugs and miscellaneous house objects.

Charlie is not the type of dog that simply lets you pick him up just because you feel like it. He has to be in the mood to draw near to you. Once I had finally calmed him down, I took his paw in my hand and immediately this dog acted like I was strangling him. Unfortunately, I had to practically hold him down and the more he kicked and screamed the worse it would hurt for him because I wouldn’t be able to get a good grip in order to cut his nails. As fifteen minutes went on, I had enough. I finally went in for the plunge and sure enough when I did he started whimpering because I had cut his quick too short. It was quite a traumatic experience for us both as he ran from me all across the house getting blood everywhere.

In this moment I caught a glimpse of the Lord’s heart as he refines us. As I struggled and Charlie wrestled, my mind drew to Jesus and I couldn’t help but be grateful that my God is on a relentless pursuit of my heart and my good. Just as Charlie flailed and squirmed as I tried doing a simple task, I was reminded of all the times when God is seeking to refine my heart of something so simple and I kick, flail, and scream. All I was trying to do was cut his nails for his good, but he felt like this was going to be the most painful experience in the world. I was convicted of how often I run from Jesus because I am afraid of the unknown. I allow my fear to control my refinement. Because of this, I am often crippled and refuse to be rid of the most trivial things in my life that are destroying me and hurting others.

“God requires our obedience before our understanding. Often it is when we come face-to-face with our limitations that we give up, thinking all is lost. But when we recognize our limitations, then we also recognize when God demonstrates his limitless power. Until we hit our limit, we often assume we can provide, we can deliver, and we can produce (Caine 42).

2. Immensity of Fear

A few weeks later I was supposed to get a plane. Yall, riding on a plane is straight up one of my biggest fears. I hate riding on planes. I could honestly never figure out why until this past week when I rode on one once again. I knew in my mind that they were “one of the safest modes of transportation,” but I couldn’t bring myself to feel safe. I went over it again and again every time I was about to board a plane. I wondered if it was the fact that I vividly remember seeing the fear that struck my father’s face the morning 9/11 hit, or was it the idea that I wasn’t in control and had always been taught to never get in the car with a stranger, so how was a plane any different? Was it the fact that everything about a plane defied gravity and it just didn’t make since how I should be floating 30,000 feet above the ground?

It finally hit me once we had made it midway through our flight, two panic attacks later. My fear was ignited because of where my focus lied. My mind instantly fell to Peter. Peter wasn’t more or less able to walk on water because there was a storm. Peter had to focus on what Jesus had promised him, not on his conditions. Once Peter misplaced his focus, he came to the realization of the immensity, the vastness of the water. He lost focus on the vastness of his Savior. Like Peter, I often lose focus on the immensity of Jesus. When I am up that high in the sky, I am forced to deal with the greatness, the immensity of my Savior. I am forced to see how out of control I am in this life, and that scares me.

3. The Fear of Feeling like God has Let Go

Lastly, and this is the toughest one of all for me, is the fear of feeling like God has let go. Recently, I had a really cool opportunity to see a birds nest be hatched and watch the babies grow. I was in awe of how beautiful nature was. As I watched the momma bird gracefully fly across the sky coming back and forth from her nest to find food, I was reminded of one of the greatest promises:

“…for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)

Over the past year, I have truly wrestled with the idea that I don’t feel the Lord’s presence. I know he is with me always, but I’ve missed the sense of his closeness. As my husband and I watched this nest for hours and talked about the nature of birds, I began to weep. I know, I know, I’m such a sap.

We talked about how this specific type of bird would not leave the nest until the mom did not come back. The momma bird had to leave in order to produce her babies’ flights. Now, she would not leave until she knew for certain that they were ready. She strengthened them, she fed them, and she watched over them. But she also knew that there would be a time when she would have to go. Otherwise, she would cripple their growth.

I was then reminded of a quote I had recently read by C.S. Lewis:

“Sooner or later he withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their conscious experience…He leaves the creature to stand up on its own legs — to carry out from the will alone… He wants them to learn to walk and must therefore take away His hand; and if only the will to walk is really there He is pleased even with their stumbles” (Lewis 40).

I am humbled and brought to my knees when I think of how God wants to be in close companions with me; he delights in me. Although it is such a hard lesson, I recognize it’s good and healthy not to always have the “feel goods” in my walk with Jesus. It challenges me to press deeper into him, to believe in his promises even when I don’t feel them, and to believe that he is still on his throne when all goes wrong.

“Between the disciples and Jesus that windy night, there was darkness, danger, and distance. Ever been there? Your storm is raging “here” and Jesus seems to be over “there.” But it doesn’t matter how dark the night, how distant the location, how dangerous the circumstances. When you are straining against the oars- contending with your trials — remember that just as Jesus knew the disciples were in trouble and came to them, he knows when you are in trouble, when you have had enough, when you need strength and courage. He knows when to calm the storm and when to ride it out with you. And he knows exactly how to use it to make you stronger” (Caine 145).