Fear & Faith

Since listening to another thought-provoking sermon this morning, I've been thinking all day about fear.  My fear.  It's true that I'm afraid of bats, carwashes, failure, and rejection; but I can easily identify my greatest fear at this moment in my life: fear of love.  Well, more specifically, fear of romantic love.  For the first time in my life, I've become so afraid of loving a man, I've simply removed myself from the dating arena entirely.  As one might guess, my fear is born from a bad experience (that may be the understatement of the year). 

Pastor Ken used an illustration of a seesaw with fear on one side and faith on the other.  But I found myself wrestling through an internal debate on this topic.  What does my faith in God have to do with being safe in a human love relationship?  After all, I wouldn't be dating God.  Humans are fallible, sinful creatures, and there's no guarantee that overcoming my fear would equate to a worthwhile relationship with another human.  It's not God's responsibility to plop me in the path of a Godly man.  Are we talking about trusting God to lead me to a person worthy of loving and worthy of loving me?  I don’t really believe it works that way.  At least it hasn’t before.  He didn’t lead me to that type of person before – several times in fact.  To be fair, when I met the men who ended up hurting me the most, I didn’t necessarily meet them under Godly circumstances or doing Godly things.  Except for the one I actually met at church.  But I digress...

I have this thing called freewill that enables me to make all sorts of decisions that will guide my encounters and decisions in life.  Likewise, other humans have freewill that determines their choices and behaviors.  Being a faithful Christian doesn't protect us from life's hurts. 

So I’m back to the same question: how will my faith in God outweigh my fear of loving?  Since I have freewill and since God isn’t responsible for leading me to a good man, how does this work?  Or maybe it doesn’t look like that at all.  Maybe it looks like me loving God and enjoying my life whether someone is in it or not.  Maybe it has more to do with trusting God to help me with discernment.  I can already see the ways in which he has repeatedly shone His light on certain traits of certain people, making it impossible for me to continue in relationships with them.

I guess I've been wrestling with this, thinking that faith would cancel out bad things.  But I think Pastor Ken's point was not to equate the absence of fear with the guarantee of success.  Faith doesn't guarantee success.  But it does guarantee that we won't walk alone.  It gives us strength and courage, which enable us to take chances and even to deal with the inevitable failures and hurts that will come our way. 

"I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart.

And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give.

So don’t be troubled or afraid." John 14:27

"This is my command—be strong and courageous!

Do not be afraid or discouraged.

For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

"But even if you suffer for doing what is right, God will reward you for it.

So don’t worry or be afraid of their threats." 1 Peter 3:14

Idolatry

When I was a kid learning The Ten Commandments, there were certain commandments that I glazed over with relief, feeling they would not ever be an issue for me.  Thou shalt have no other gods before me was one of them.  Certainly I don’t worship any other “god” in the way I might worship God at church or pray to God.  But the term “worship” is a slippery slope.  Idolatry is part of the ice on that slippery slope.

If we’re not careful, we may find ourselves in a one dimensional relationship with another being or even a thing that borders on idolatry or worship.  I’m sure you can think of people you’ve known who had that sort of relationship with their expensive sports car, with their spoiled pet, or with another person, even a celebrity.  Inevitably, that object of “worship” fails us in some way, whether it be by death, destruction, or its absence from our life.  We find ourselves devastated, searching for the elusive North on our internal compass.  Maybe we allow another person to get away with behaviors for which we would hold others accountable.  Perhaps we make excuses to justify our idol’s place on a pedestal?

Yesterday, I read a status update on Jason Aldean’s Facebook page in which he apologized for his recent “inappropriate behavior” which involved “drinking too much” and “embarrassing” himself and his family.  The photos that had been published showed him kissing and intimately touching a woman who was not his wife and the mother of his two daughters.  For the most part, the fan reactions have been forgiving and supportive.  I wonder how forgiving and supportive those same people would be if it was their husband or their father or their sister’s husband or their daughter’s husband who behaved that way?  I suspect they might be more condemning of such behavior if it hit a little closer to home.

I felt personally disappointed when I read the news reports and saw the photos.  I’m a huge fan of Jason Aldean’s and just recently saw him in concert for the second time.  I had to ask myself – if I’m just a fan of his music, why do I have any personal expectations regarding his behavior?  Another artist of whom I’m a fan is Prince, who once pointed out that he doesn’t like the term “fan” because it is short for fanatic.  So, while I don’t have a shrine to Jason Aldean and I don’t attend weekly services to praise him, maybe I need to let go of the idea that there are any among The Ten Commandments that don’t apply to me.   

Figure It Out

Sometimes I hear the echo of your words in my head. 

“Figure it out.” 

In a way, I ought to thank you for being so precise and honest.  Those chilling words were delivered callously, with a sneer, and without a trace of remorse or second thought, with no sign of guilt or trepidation.   You were walking out on us anyway, but I reminded you of the commitment you’d made to my children – most immediately to care for them before and after school.  But your response of “Figure it out” stopped me dead in my tracks.  Although you continued to shock and devastate me with the actions you chose in the hours to come, it was this moment that made me see you for what you are.

So guess what?  I figured it out.  I figured out that not everyone keeps their promises.  I figured out that some people love conditionally.  I figured out that I’m one of the few people my children can count on to love them and care for them whether I’m angry, disappointed, annoyed, or anything else.  I figured out how to resolve the identity theft you committed – both literally and figuratively.   I figured out that seemingly nice people can do horrible things.  I figured out that faith is better placed in God than in people.  I figured a lot out, just as you instructed me. 

What you said when you left
Just left me cold and out of breath...
...and when you slammed the front door shut
A lot of others opened up
So did my eyes so I could see
That you never were the best for me
~Daughtry

Halftime Already?!

Note: This blog was inspired by the message my Pastor Ken Murphy shared this morning.  Check it out yourself at http://thecwc.net/media.php?pageID=11 (should be posted by Tuesday 8/21).

Have you ever watched such a riveting football game that you found yourself stunned when you realized it was halftime?  In an analogy my pastor used this morning about life as a football game, I realized it's quite reasonable to think that I may be close to - or at - halftime in my life, with two quarters completed and two to go.  That was a strange, attention-getting revelation to make!

Halftime is best spent taking a quick rest, reflecting on your performance in the first half, and strategizing for the second half.  Oftentimes I find myself wondering "what am I doing?" or "what have I done with my life?"  On paper, it looks pretty good.  I graduated high school, graduated summa cum laude from Ohio State, earned a master's degree, got married, had two healthy children, bought a home, and have been blessed with employment that, for the most part, is satisfying and enables me to provide for my family. 

At a second glance, however, I might add that there is a lot that is missing.  The marriage didn't last, and I'm a single mother.  I've yet to find a Christian man that can contribute to a respectful and loving relationship on a long term basis.  I'm a hard core romantic with a lot of love to give, and while there are a lot of other souls I can and do love and care for, it's no substitution for a mutually beneficial adult romance and partnership.  It's lonely.  It's exhausting.  It's depressing.  But it's also a refusal to settle.

There are certain things in this world that I am extremely passionate about: music, women's issues (especially reproductive health and rape prevention), and writing.  And while I've dabbled in karaoke and choirs, volunteered for various women's issues/causes, and have this blog...I'm not really pursuing any of those dreams.  My excuse?  Unless I really "made it" in one of those areas (i.e., touring as Miranda Lambert's opening act or writing a couple best-selling novels), they don't pay well, and I can't afford a low-paying job asvthe sole breadwinner in my family.  For instance, my "empty nest" dream (when I have the ability to be on call) is to become a midwife, but I'm terrified of being directly responsible for a woman and child's life or death. 

I felt a spark of excitement today as our pastor encouraged us to find that "sweet spot" where we can best serve God and others using the talents with which we've been blessed.  He reminded us that it often takes a few tries until we find that place where we look forward to serving, even as we change lives while doing it.  I was reminded of a non-profit where I volunteered but realized it wasn't a good fit....and of being guilted into serving in children's ministries at another church and hating every minute of it.  Neither of those was the target I'm trying to hit.

I felt a renewed sense of hope, that maybe the second half can be a game-changer.  Maybe, for practical reasons, my career will  not align with my passions, but maybe I can find that place in my church or in the community where I can feed my passions and derive a sense of purpose where I truly feel that I'm making an important difference in the world and not just increasing someone's profits.  And maybe while I'm doing all of this, I'll run smack into a good man who is not just taking from the world, but giving back as well.  Stranger things have happened.

"you say you don't want it again and again

but you don't really mean it
you say you don't want it  - this circus we're in
but you don't really mean it...

...how many fates turn around in the overtime?"
~Tori Amos, "Spark"

Promise Me That You'll Give Faith A Fighting Chance

The day you were born, so many thoughts passed through my mind.  Mostly, I was just feeling sheer joy, pure exuberance.  You were a miracle - a miracle that came after a diagnosis of "infertility" and many roller coaster months of hope and disappointment.  I thought about your infancy, your toddler years, and your childhood.  I thought about you as an adult - with a career, a home of your own, and an identity that would sprout from your roots.  I did not think about this moment.

Tonight I sat in an auditorium at your sixth grade orientation, and I felt - vicariously - the nerves, anxiety, uncertainty, and excitement that comes at this age with a new school, new classmates, and a new chapter in life.  I wanted to wrap my arms around you, but knew I could not because it would embarrass you.

Those "middle years" were hell for me.  Girls can be so horribly mean.  Everyone is maturing at a different pace, both physically and emotionally.  I always felt I was the last one to cross each milestone - to shave, to wear makeup, to date, etc.  Those that had gained access to those rites of passage tended to rub it in my face to make themselves feel superior.  I was not attractive, I had hair that was changing from stick straight to curly, I was a nerd (i.e., smart) and I was not athletic. 

Sunday nights were routinely filled with sobbing pleas to my folks - begging them not to make me go back to school.  They would remind me of the big picture, including college, and I'd insist that I wasn't going to go to college - therefore there was no need to finish school.  I wanted so desperately to escape those awkward years when I didn't know myself and didn't know who I wanted to become.

I pray that it's different for you - better somehow.  I pray that having divorced parents doesn't negatively impact your sense of self or your upbringing.  I pray that you always remember God is on your side, at your back, and leading the way...that he loves you immensely and will protect you and guide your steps if you listen to his will.  And like the song we used for your baptism ("I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack):

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance. 

On I Walked

I saw you today.  You saw me.  The look on your face was priceless – it spoke volumes of shame, guilt, and embarrassment.  You managed a sheepish grin.  Your fingers formed into the peace sign.  My face was stone.  An eyebrow raised, chin lifted higher, and on I walked.  An onlooker would never have fathomed how close we once were.

Why was I trembling, shaking, and struggling to breathe?  I guess all that hurt returned to me for a moment.  In an instant, those feelings of vulnerability, shock, hurt, and pain all returned to me, as if in waves.  I didn’t feel safe.  But I felt aware, and so I guided my breathing and regained my composure, reminding myself that I am safe.  You can never hurt me again.  And on I walked.

Prodigal

I was raised in the church.  I’ve heard the “Prodigal Son” story more times than I could recall.  But tonight I heard it in a new way, while looking through the eyes of the older, loyal brother who became so angry when his father made such a big to-do about his unreliable, irresponsible, selfish brother’s return home. 

I found myself thinking about how aggravated I can get at work, when I feel that I am responsibly following the rules while others are shirking them.  I often feel as if I’m giving my best effort when others appear to be just skating by, barely performing at an average level.  Sometimes I feel that way in personal relationships too – whether dating relationships, family relationships, or friendships.  It’s like sometimes I start keeping score, rather than taking my own advice and attending to my own affairs instead of worrying about what everyone else is doing and why.  In all honesty, I can fall into the trap of feeling superior to others when I turn a blind eye to my shortcomings, focus on the things I’m doing well, and contrast that to others who fall short in the areas where I excel. 

As a manager, I still must have performance standards for employees, and must coach them to meet these standards and evaluate them accordingly.  But as a person, I need to realize that I don’t get any extra credit for being “on track” longer than someone else.  What’s important is that the lost are eventually found.  And true forgiveness means truly letting go of what came before redemption.