Lies and Fear Go Hand in Hand

So, I have to be honest. I really don't enjoy blogging. Actually, I really don't enjoy writing. I enjoy the action of copying and pasting all of my wisdom and insight into the blog box and then clicking the button at the bottom that says 'Publish Post.' I don't particularly enjoy editing that particular post 16 times before submitting the final draft, but it does give me a small sense of accomplishment to know that I have just exposed another part of my life and soul to the rest of the world. It's a little freeing, in a way. Being able to be held accountable for the things you say and think. Getting feedback, knowing other people are thinking the same things, or just the fact that other readers now know you a little better than they did 5 minutes ago... These are the things that make writing worth it. At least that's how I convince myself to keep it up.

Lately, I've been thinking about fear. It was the topic of Pastor Dave's sermon on Sunday, and we talked about it again at the college group gathering last night. Fear is something that, when embraced excessively (or obsessively?), leads to a lot of false perceptions and beliefs. These can be delusions about yourself, the danger, or God Himself. I've never really considered myself a 'fearful' person. I'm just realistic. Right?

Over the past few months, I've started to become afraid of more things. Some of this downward spiral has to do with graduating college and desperately searching for the next step. Some of it has to do with unfulfilled dreams and expectations. And some of it has to do with the rose-colored glasses I am slowly but surely learning to remove. One of my biggest fears right is that my life won't be meaningful. That I will be a wallflower forever. That the world will be no different after I am gone. That God will look at me and say, in the words of Francis Chan, "Wow, well done. Well done. You lived the safest life possible. You didn't slip. You didn't fall" (see the clip here). I don't want to live a life completely void of risk. I want to take chances and make mistakes. I want to witness the seemingly impossible. I don't want to bury my talents. I want to be sent out into the harvest field.

On the other hand, I'm fearful of failure. I don't want to try anything too crazy because I don't want to fail. I don't want to put my heart on the line because I don't want to get hurt. I don't want to say what I really think because I don't want to be criticized. When I want to make myself feel better about being wildly mediocre, I just compare myself to other people who are even more boring than I am. As if I'm trying to justify my wasted breath.

Sometimes I'm afraid of my ability to hear and understand God - that I'll misinterpret what He says to me. Other times, I'm just afraid I'll disappoint Him. Which isn't unusual, really. At other times, still, I'm afraid that God will ask me to do something I don't want to do. Like be homeless. Or eternally celibate. Or a customer service representative. Now, I know God isn't a big, mean bully who just loves to watch us squirm. But this fear is somewhat legitimate. Just think about Moses, when God asked him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Or Jesus, when God told him to give up his life. At the same time, though, it's key to remember that God will never move you out of your comfort zone without a greater purpose. He doesn't delight in our misery.

It's a vicious thing, fear. In a way, though, it compels us to flee stagnation. It keeps us from making careless choices. It makes us think about things like meaning and purpose and the character of God. The key is to find the balance. Clearly, I don't know exactly how that's done... But I can take comfort in the fact that God is bigger than my fears. My life is a small and seemingly insignificant blip in the span of eternity, and people have had bigger problems before I came along. And really, even if I screw up, God can work through that too. He won't waste an opportunity to teach me, even if it's in a little less comfortable of a way than I would have preferred.