Fear of Them

“The fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe.” Proverbs 29:25

At moments when I feel particularly discouraged, I close my eyes and I can see a panel of faces. They glare at me, disapproving. They are faces from my past and present - people who have flung harsh words, scribbled angry notes, wordlessly shaken their heads in disgust, made snide comments behind my back, or simply ignored me.

These are the faces of people with whom I have lived, worked, and attended church and school. Collectively, they form the group I have titled “Them.” These people live in different cities, have never met each other and have absolutely no idea of the part they play in my subconscious. Yet somehow I think of them as a whispering, gossiping mob, bent on judging my every move, celebrating my every mistake.

Today, I was convicted – once again – of my intense fear of others, my constant need for affirmation, approval and the overwhelming fear of rejection. Wait, a second, you say (I can hear you), that doesn’t sound like sin. That sounds like plain old low self-esteem, right?

Kevin DeYounge, author of Just Do Something, wrote a blog about fearing God versus fearing others. “Fearing God is the beginning of wisdom,” Proverbs 9:10 says. DeYounge equates fearing people with the beginning of foolishness and sin.

Do I fear the Lord? I used to, but I have feared people for a long time.

Sometimes when I’m driving home from work after a bad day, I yell at “them,” hurl insults to counteract the ones I’m sure they’re flinging my way. Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed before drifting to sleep, I beg them to be merciful, forgive my faults so I can just rest.

In fear of “them,” I have quit jobs to run away from their judgment. In fear of “them,” I have cried myself to sleep. I have avoided people, told myself I would keep my head down and remain quiet to avoid their rejection. I’ve dreaded going to work each day, always fearing that some small mistake I’ve made will be dragged out for all to see. Who knows how many decisions have been tainted by this fear?

Of course, these thoughts occurred only in the deeper recesses of my mind, pushed beneath the surface of a generally happy life. I’m a little unhappy at work, but who isn’t? DeYounge’s blog smacked me in the face with the reality of my fear imbalance.

He asks: “Do you have low self-esteem? It may seem counter intuitive, but self-esteem issues are usually rooted in pride. You reverence the opinions of others. You use them to build up your identity and sense of well-being…. Do you avoid people for fear of their rejection? There is something not right in your heart if you are constantly suspicious that others don’t like you and must be thinking ill of you.”

Proverbs is right. Fearing people is a trap, ensnaring you for a lifetime of unhappiness, distrust, anger, and yes, fear itself. “But whoever trusts in the Lord is safe,” the second half says. It offers us an alternative: fear God, trust God.

“This is a faith issue which takes a lot of fight. We will not fear God more than people unless we know the truth about God and people. Do you believe that pleasing God is more important and more satisfying than pleasing people? Do you believe that God is the only one to whom you will give account at the end of the age? Do you believe that God has forgiven all your sins at the cost of his Son’s blood, that Jesus needs none of your self-abuse to make him suffer enough and none of your feelings of perpetual misery to make him loving enough?” DeYounge asks his readers.

The reason I’m so surprised by this revelation is that I thought I had this covered. This isn't the first time I've encountered my fears. My fear of rejection used to center around my weight. In high school and college, I was quite sure my weight meant that no man would ever find me attractive. I convinced myself that no one liked me because I was chubby. Then, I learned a few things about my hair, clothes and how men thought and I figured out that I could be attractive. I also found out that I was lovable. I could make friends; I could even get a boyfriend. Then, all I could think about was getting married. My insecurities about that aspect completely melted when I fell in love with Josh. He loved me for me, all of me.

Josh often remarks in our discussions “You’ve never seemed insecure around me.” No, I’m not. My home and my personal groups of friends are the safety zone.

Trusting the Lord used to mean believing that I was lovable enough and likeable enough to someday get married. I used to sit and dwell in Jeremiah 17:7-8.

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.”

My confidence was in the Lord to bring me a husband. Check. Now what? Turns out, there’s more to my insecurities and more to trusting God.

As I read DeYounge's words, it suddenly became very clear. I was in the wrong. I consider this my life verse, but I think I’ve been totally twisting the meaning. Those who trust in the Lord won’t be swept away by the opinions of others. They will stand firm in their knowledge. My confidence shouldn’t be in my career, the acceptance of my coworkers or even in my own opinion of myself. Do I trust God and his plan for my life and am I willing to be obedient to what he requires of me on a daily basis?

I think this may require waking up each morning and asking myself “Today, will I fear people and their rejection or ridicule or will I fear the Lord and failing to live out His purpose for my life?” I also think it's going to require to long talks with the Father to get things sorted out.

The lovely thing about conviction is that after that initial breath-stealing pain as your own pride falls away, there is a secondary sensation as the Father wraps His arms around you to assure you of His love.

That's where I need to abide, in His love.

I wish I could tie this up with a neat little bow, a perfectly packaged message to inspire and convict. But alas, I'm a blogger, not a pastor. I'm sharing my personal story of journeying through life. I think that learning to let go of my fear of people, silencing "Them," is just that: a journey. Will you join me?

That Necessary Part

When I was growing up, my cousins and I would spend hours and hours at my grandparents’ farmhouse in Nebraska listening to cassette tapes. Underneath the counter in the laundry room, a leather case held an entire set of Dan and Louie recordings. We’d pour over the case for 30 minutes then finally climb up on stools and put our chosen tape in the old tape player and begin a journey with Ventriloquist Pastor Dan and his dummy, Louie, as they told us bible stories. We learned about Jonah, Zacchaeus and Elisha.

Josh and I attended a church up the street a couple of weeks ago. When the pastor announced he was preaching about parenthood, I rolled my eyes. I don’t need any more fuel for THAT desire. As he began to develop the sermon, however, it was more relevant that I first thought.

The pastor discussed the legacy he desired to leave for his children and the legacy his grandparents and parents had left for him. Not a legacy of financial wealth, but an example of spiritual richness.

What I didn’t realize until very recently is that my grandparents made a choice to own those tapes and encourage us to listen to them. Those bible stories came alive to me through those recordings. There are bits of biblical wisdom I’ve got tucked in the corners of my brain that I learned as a five year old sitting on the floor of my grandparent’s farmhouse. It’s part of my spiritual legacy.

My grandfather, who died when I was a young child, was a man of quiet compassion and great spiritual wisdom. The lessons he taught my mother were passed along to me.

My aunts and uncles singing to the Lord, praising Him, even as my grandfather lay dying in the hospital is powerful picture burned in my memory. We gathered around as a family to seek His comfort. I learned that no matter what the situation, He is worthy of our praise.

My grandmother on the other side is a prayer warrior. I know that my name is called before the throne of God on a daily basis because she prays for everyone in our family. Her example of selflessness in the face of extreme adversity is one that will forever be impressed upon my heart. Even to this day, my grandmother gets up very early and worships the Lord.

When I was in middle school and high school, my mom would update me on the life of my older cousin Monica. Her story of trusting the Lord as she struggled to teach in an inner city middle school that had no discipline taught me to stop and pray in whatever situation I find myself in. The powerful way in which God was faithful to bring her and her husband together was a reminder that the Lord will give us the desires of our heart if we only trust in Him.

As a child, we had several of my mother’s employees move into our house, share our table and learn about Christ for a season. My mother was a missionary in our hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska. If someone was in trouble, needed help, she wasn’t afraid to inconvenience herself. She invited them in. How many people came to know the Lord because my mother was unafraid to share what gave her hope? Only He knows.

When my father was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer, the true test came. My parents both learned to trust in ways they never thought they would have to. I remember my dad gripping the pew in front of him, struggling to sing the worship chorus “Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes, Yes, Lord,” knowing that it meant submitting no matter the cost, even to his death. Yet, they both remained faithful to Christ, seeking Him in the greatest hour of need.
In the last birthday card my father gave to me, my sweet 16, in his very careful handwriting, he wrote “May God occupy that so necessary part of you.” At the time, it didn’t make much sense. What necessary part? Huh?

He knew that his death would leave a hole in my life where a father’s love, affection and encouragement should have been. I felt the sting of that loss more than once after he passed away. He knew I needed to look to my Heavenly Father for those things, and prayed that God would see me through. More importantly, he knew that void we all have that pushes us to seek the Lord wouldn’t be satisfied in any other way.

As I grew older, I kept coming back to that phrase he’d written and continued to seek the Lord. Even now, as a married woman, I realize that void cannot be filled in any other way except for the Father’s love.

Is my family perfect? Oh heavens no. We’re a warped, human group of people. But they have left me a legacy that I shall be indebted to the rest of my life.

As I listened to the man’s sermon, I was struck with the opportunities I have now to build a legacy in others. My nephew, 9, is about to hit that age where everything the world has to offer will look pretty good. I need to begin sewing a legacy of God’s love into his life. I need to be praying for his spiritual growth. He is so intelligent; it’s going to take a lot to keep up with him.

Josh and I have been married less than two months. Children are a ways off, at least in our planning. However, I still consider us a new family. Although we aren’t yet, Lord willing, we are a future mother and a future father. Just as we should begin storing up a monetary nest egg, so we should begin building up a spiritual nest egg. If we can’t manage a daily time in prayer and the Word now, how will we ever manage with the busyness of children? Our interaction as husband and wife needs to be holy and righteous not just for the sake of each other and for God’s glory, but as a solid foundation for our family.

My husband wrote this about our marriage:
“It is the love for our Lord, Jesus Christ that unites us as one. Our commonality of a Christian upbringing is unequivocally the most wonderful gift that two people can bring to a marriage. Our foundation rests in Our Savior and forever in this home we shall serve Him.”