What a Fireplace in California Taught Me about Faith and Fear
When I was fifteen years old, my family visited the coast of California near San Fransisco. It was beautiful. You could climb tall cliffs and look out over the Pacific, and follow grassy hills of sand all the way to the inlets by the ocean. You could stand in the shallows and feel the gentle power of a near infinite pool of water dancing with you ankles. There was a little cottage nearby that functioned as a restaurant and bed and breakfast, and my mom wanted to take us there for some afternoon tea, because, you know, she's my mom and she's a travel wizard and she's amazing. So there we were at this long wooden table in a room full of California sunlight, being served English tea by a waiter tell us about the weird political geography of the region. He claimed San Fran had kicked all the rural folks out of the city for being too liberal. Everything was perfect. We were together, on vacation, experiencing this unique time with tea, but in all honesty I have a secret to confess. I was incredibly anxious. I was scared of being away from home. I was scared of the liberal waiter. Back then all these little irrational worries would populate my mind and drive me nearly frantic--enjoyment or relaxation was out of the question.
Fear has always been the bedrock emotional pulse in my life, and in the lives of countless others in the world. Right now, amidst the coronavirus, political uncertainty, etc, fear is literally controlling human beings and whole nations, throwing what may have once been a comfortable life routine into a collective existential crisis.
So why do I mention our time in California, drinking tea by the sea? Well, I remember, very distinctly, looking up from the table and seeing a mantelpiece with golden lettering engraved in the wood that read: Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. There was no one there.
I understand that the quote may sound cheesy to you, but at the time, my anxious soul melted with relief and assurance, and from that moment on I began to little by little understand all of life as existing in the tensions of faith and fear. Faith is confidence in the reality of God's presence and security and love. Confidence. Fear? Fear, when given control, means disbelieving that God is real and present and able to keep you utterly safe, no matter what happens to you. That's right. No matter what happens. When we submit to fear and anxiety, we take things in our own hands and frantically demand control. But we aren't in control. Times like these show us how dramatically out of control we really are. Mortality is a somber fact that likes to hide its head in times of ease. But the cover's drawn. Something happens. We're reminded that we are dust to and to dust we shall return.
Despair is the typical response to this realization. But when we live in faith, it doesn't have to be. Now is the time to recognize realities stronger and deeper and brighter than the many corruptions that plague our world, from sickness to evil to death to depression etc etc. Faith is not superstition. It is confidence in reality. That reality is God. His kingdom, His Presence, His death and resurrection. And He calls everyone who is full of fear and despair, as we so often are, to rest secure in Him. It's not fairy tale dreaming. It's real. And once you become the kind of person who chooses faith over fear, trust over control, you will become an unstoppable prophetic voice in your community, and the lies that our fears are based upon will soon lose their footing.
"Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. There was no one there."
Fear has always been the bedrock emotional pulse in my life, and in the lives of countless others in the world. Right now, amidst the coronavirus, political uncertainty, etc, fear is literally controlling human beings and whole nations, throwing what may have once been a comfortable life routine into a collective existential crisis.
So why do I mention our time in California, drinking tea by the sea? Well, I remember, very distinctly, looking up from the table and seeing a mantelpiece with golden lettering engraved in the wood that read: Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. There was no one there.
I understand that the quote may sound cheesy to you, but at the time, my anxious soul melted with relief and assurance, and from that moment on I began to little by little understand all of life as existing in the tensions of faith and fear. Faith is confidence in the reality of God's presence and security and love. Confidence. Fear? Fear, when given control, means disbelieving that God is real and present and able to keep you utterly safe, no matter what happens to you. That's right. No matter what happens. When we submit to fear and anxiety, we take things in our own hands and frantically demand control. But we aren't in control. Times like these show us how dramatically out of control we really are. Mortality is a somber fact that likes to hide its head in times of ease. But the cover's drawn. Something happens. We're reminded that we are dust to and to dust we shall return.
Despair is the typical response to this realization. But when we live in faith, it doesn't have to be. Now is the time to recognize realities stronger and deeper and brighter than the many corruptions that plague our world, from sickness to evil to death to depression etc etc. Faith is not superstition. It is confidence in reality. That reality is God. His kingdom, His Presence, His death and resurrection. And He calls everyone who is full of fear and despair, as we so often are, to rest secure in Him. It's not fairy tale dreaming. It's real. And once you become the kind of person who chooses faith over fear, trust over control, you will become an unstoppable prophetic voice in your community, and the lies that our fears are based upon will soon lose their footing.
"Fear knocked on the door. Faith answered. There was no one there."
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