Fear

I should’ve known that getting a massage from a licensed masseuse who also happens to be part of IHOP’s healing ministry would be an above average experience. I made the appointment this week because I’ve been having issues with my back for over a week now, and then to top if all off I tripped and fell hands first while jogging last week. Let’s just say I wasn’t in great shape.

While Mary was working on my back, we chatted a bit. I noticed that there were some tender areas that she kept touching on (just around my left shoulder blade), and they weren’t getting better … if anything, they were getting worse! When I mentioned that to her, she said that as she was praying she felt that there might be some fear caught up in this area and asked me to pray about it.

I didn’t need to pray about it. I knew right away what she meant.

You see, for the past week or so I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve been having these nightmares … ones that I haven’t had since before I left for Africa. While the location or characters may differ, the situation is always the same. I’m in some area of Africa, where I start out hanging with people I know and am comfortable around. Then the scene changes and I’m being pursued by someone (usually one or more males) that I can sense has some sinister motive for catching me – usually assault or murder. The challenge once I figure out where things are headed is to wake myself up before he gets to me.

I usually wake up tense, with a racing heartbeat and unable to breathe – paralyzed by fear and unable to go back to bed because I know the dream will morph and repeat itself. Or, worse, thoughts start rushing my head as I think about the scenario happening in real life now that God’s got me living alone.

In addition to the nightmares, my fear of commitment reared it’s ugly head this week as well. After a month of making trips between Kansas City and Columbia, trying to sort out this housing thing, I was at the point of signing a lease on my #2 choice. You know, a one year commitment to live in one place with legal and financial repercussions if I find that I hate it after the first month. It wasn’t pleasant to think about.

Can you guess what thought always comes to mind? “What if something better comes along and I miss it because I jumped the gun with this place?”

And then there’s the need for me to choose an area of concentration for my masters coursework. I tell everyone that I plan to study International Journalism, but what if that’s not the best fit? What if I’m supposed to do Magazine Writing, Editing or Design with an international focus? Or, am I supposed to include PhotoJ? I’m beginning to think that the 20+ areas of concentration for the J School isn’t such a good thing, especially since I have no idea what the ending career goal that God has in store for me actually is.

Because, what if I choose International Journalism, then can’t find a job afterwards because my interests don’t lean to the political aspects of reporting? Or, what if I don’t have what it takes?

Which brings us to yet another area of fear - what if I fail? I can’t think of anything that I’ve tried to do that I’ve failed at. Well, I think there was a lemon pound cake I tried to bake one time that bombed. But, how serious is that? Now, embarking on a blind journey into a competitive graduate program, but not getting the components for success quite right … that’s a different ball game. I’m jumping off the ledge (once again) into some murky waters, trusting not only in the current of God’s plan to take me where He wants me to be, but also that He will impart what’s needed to succeed.

Why does everyone else seem to think I can do this, when I don’t?

Which leads to fear of the unknown. This one seems to be a recurring theme in my life, considering how many times the Lord has asked me to step out in faith for Him. The truth is that all I know is that He’s opened this door to grad school and said that in pursuing this, all of the steps I’ve taken in the past (my undergrad, YWAM, my love for South America, the move to Africa) will be pulled together.

What does that look like vocationally? I have no idea. How am I supposed to explain that to deans, advisors and professors who expect me to have some sort of idea? Not a clue.

I won’t even touch on the whole marriage commitment thing … I’ve pushed that one aside until it steps into my face in the form of a flesh and blood hottie who says that he wants to spend the rest of his life loving God, loving each other, loving the people God brings across our paths, and traipsing around the world together. It just opens up a whole other dialog box of things I’d rather not think about right now.

All of these areas of fear have been swirling around in my head over the last few weeks as I try to sort out the details of the (not so distant) future.

No wonder I had issues with stress, headaches and pinched nerves in my back.

On that massage table I gathered up all of these areas of fear and placed them in His hands. I asked Him to remind me that He is for me, that He knows me better than I know myself, that this is His idea, and that He will be faithful (as always) in the midst of the coming challenges.

Then I breathed a sigh of relief as I placed my hands in His and promised that I would continue to learn what it looks like to walk in His perfect love.