Know God? No Fear. No God? Know Fear.

Do you know what the most often repeated command in the whole Bible is? What’s the one thing God tells his people over and over again?

Don’t sin? No. Not even close. Be holy for I am holy? Not that either. Give up?

The one thing God says repeatedly is Don’t be afraid.

You may not have been expecting that one. Neither was I when I first learned it. But it’s true. God doesn’t want us to be afraid, yet the irony of it is that fear is the one thing that seems to be pre-programmed into us. We respond with all sorts of fear and anxiety to all kinds of situations.

Why do I panic when the banks fail and the stock market takes a nose dive? I’m afraid I’ll lose what little bit I have. Why do my insides seize up when I hear the doctor say, “I don’t know how to tell you this so I’ll just come right out and say it…”? I’m afraid of what he’s actually going to say: what if there’s no cure or treatment? Or what if I actually have to change my lifestyle? Eat right? Exercise? (Why God, why? The humanity!) [That’s meant to be funny. You can laugh, but don’t overdo it.] Why do my brows furrow and my teeth grind when my supervisor calls me into their office? I’m afraid I may have done something (or not done something) to get me into some trouble.

And these are just the three off the top of my head. I haven’t even touched on my daughter or my wife or other family. I haven’t even talked about the fear of house fires or car accidents. Nor have I mentioned those less obvious and mostly unspoken fears: what if they don’t like me? What if I don’t get that job/raise? What if my spouse decides they’ve fallen out of love with me? What if my kids grow up to hate me? What if people discover that what I think about myself is actually true: that I’m a fraud, a failure, a big mess?

The point is that we all have fears that we deal with on a daily basis. Some people are more equipped to handle these fears, while for others the struggle is ongoing. I fall into the second category.

For me, fear and anxiety aren’t just passing emotions; they’re my roommates. I live with them. I eat with them. They breathe the same air I do. (And yes, I suppose it could be said that I sleep with them, but don’t tell my wife.) [Again, laughter is appropriate here.]

There’s all sorts of reasons why fear and anxiety are such prominent features of my life and I won’t waken that dragon, at least not now. For the time being let’s just say that I am intimately acquainted with anxiety and fear. It’s my status quo, my base program.

Lately, though, I’ve been reminded in so many powerful ways – and some very subtle ways – that my fears and anxieties are mostly unnecessary, that God’s love for me is enough and I am safe in God’s hands.

How has this been happening?

Recently Jenna (my three year old daughter) has been spontaneously saying “I love you daddy.” Now that not only touches my heart, but it also serves as a vivid and powerful reminder of the depth of God’s love for me. If I can believe such a profound statement from my child (and I do!), then how much more can I believe the Creator when he says it? Infinitely more!

I’ve also been reminded of how it works the other way. If Jenna prophetically (if unknowingly) speaks for my Creator, then she also prophetically “speaks” for me, though in a more subtle yet vastly different way.

Certainly Jenna knows fear. She usually anxiously sits in my lap when my wife runs the vacuum cleaner. She’s recently become afraid of snakes (She recently saw some earthworms on a sidewalk after a heavy rain and nearly toppled over my wife trying to climb up into her arms to get away from the “snakes.”) When the electricity went off a couple of months ago, I had to hold her because while she’s not typically afraid of the dark, she was afraid this time because in her words it was “really dark.” She’s afraid of really loud noises, large barking dogs, strangers… all the typical fears of a three year old.

But there are much more important things of which she’s not afraid.

For instance, she’s not afraid that I’ll ever stop loving her. She’s not afraid that she’ll come home one day and not have a home. She’s not afraid that I’m going to kick her out of the house. She’s not afraid that she’ll never be surrounded by people who love her, support her, encourage her and teach her. She’s not afraid that one day her little comfortable world will suddenly and unexpectedly fall apart, and she’ll be left alone to wander in a cold and cruel world. She’s not afraid that those all too brief and intimate little moments of hugs, kisses, ticklings and cuddling will suddenly stop.

When I look at pictures of her – and I have quite a few – I see a child who is loved and care for. I see a child whose physical and emotional needs are being met. I see a child who is becoming more and more well-adjusted with herself and the world around her. I see a child who is, above all, content. She’s happy. And though like every child she wants more and more toys and princesses and dolls and stuffed animals and Disney movies, she’s typically pretty happy with what’s in front of her in the moment.

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)

And this indicts me. Like so many others I see, I am usually so preoccupied with grasping more. I want that which I shouldn’t have, not because that thing in and of itself is evil (that extra helping of pizza, that new car, that job promotion, that relationship), but that my reasons for wanting it are skewed and warped and miss the mark of what God has for me.

Fundamentally, I am afraid that what God has given me in this moment is simply not enough. I convince myself that I need more, that what God has provided isn’t sufficient to meet my needs. I’m like Adam & Eve in Eden, reaching out to grasp the forbidden fruit, convinced that God is holding something back from me, that he isn’t telling me the whole truth, that I’m missing out on something that is more fulfilling that what he’s giving me right now.

So I’m trying to live into this belief: I believe God is love, and that he loves me like a perfect Father loves an imperfect son. Even when God allows pain and trouble (whether my own doing or just the result of living in a sinful, fallen world), I know my suffering is miniscule when compared to the goodness God engineers through it and because of it. Therefore, I am not afraid, because as God said to that ancient, fearful patriarch Abraham, “Do not be afraid. I am your shield, your very great reward.” (Genesis 15:1)

No God, know fear. Know God, no fear.

Huh. That really is true after all.