Womanly Wednesday: Loosening The Grip Of Fear

Welcome to this week’s Womanly Wednesday! In this series, different women share their struggles, bravely opening up about their stories so that other people would be inspired and encouraged.  Today’s guest poster is my friend Camille.  She was one of my closest Young Life girls when I led YL in college and it was such a joy to walk through life with her those four years.  Also, check out the Womanly Wednesday archives to read other posts from this series! 

As a child, I remember running into my parents’ bedroom every time there was a thunderstorm. I remember waking up in the middle of the night crying because I feared that our house was going to catch on fire. I remember making my mom double check to make sure the doors were locked at night just in case a “robber” was planning to break into our suburban home and steal my stuffed animals.  As silly as these memories are, they are all rooted in one thing: fear. And as far back as I can remember, fear has been present in my life. It may have begun with an irrational fear of thunderstorms, but over the years, it’s grown much deeper than that.  

Throughout college, I felt enslaved to fear. Some days were better than others, but there was always this underlying grip of fear that dwelled in my heart. And when I was alone, I felt the fear creeping up on me even more. So I didn’t let myself be alone. Ever. I always surrounded myself with people and noise. And part of this was because I am truly an extrovert to the core, and I love being around people. But, part of this was to distract myself from my anxious thoughts. Loneliness and silence brought out my fear.

Many of my fears related to an absence of control. I gravitated towards comfort and safety. When I didn’t have control, I was uncomfortable with the unknown. I couldn’t fly in an airplane without my nose pressed against the window- praying for safety as the plane took off. Anytime I heard noises late at night, I got that heart pounding, consuming feeling of anxiousness. My list of fears was too long. Much too long. To the point where I could barely hear God’s voice amidst the lies I believed.

In my struggle to overcome fear and worry, I talked with my pastor about it a lot. He explained that fear is just an acronym for “false evidence appearing real”. And I had never thought about it like that before. Worldly fear is a choice. It is the opposite of God’s truth. And safety is an illusion—I am no more safe here, sitting in my apartment, than I would be if I was rock climbing without a harness (okay maybe that was a little dramatic of an analogy, but you get the point). If our God is truly all powerful then I have nothing to fear. He is in complete control, and He is good.

As I began to pray through my fears more and more, I came to realize that these fears were a direct result of my lack of trust in the Lord and in His goodness. And this past year, God has consistently been reminding me that He goes before me and fights for me.

God has worked in my heart immensely this year. He has challenged me to live in the midst of my fears…graduating college and leaving constant community, moving to a new city without many close friendships, and starting a new job that causes me to get out of my comfort zone every day. This year, God has shown me how to embrace my fears, and how to seek Him in the midst of fear. I’m learning to believe that He is stronger and far more captivating than any of these fears could ever be.

Since I began following Jesus five years ago, He has awakened passions and desires in my heart I never knew I was capable of feeling. He has revealed more of who I am in light of who He is. And in knowing Jesus, I understand myself better. I understand that I am prone to fear. But I also understand that this does not define my life, because “perfect love casts out fear”. My YL leader (coincidentally also the author of this beautiful blog) asked me to memorize this verse when I was a senior in high school. I was intrigued by the verse, but still didn’t fully understand what it really meant for my life. Five years later, I am still trying to wrap my head around the magnitude of its reality.