Monday, September 26, 2011

when fear cripples you early and much

Hinds Feet on High Places Complete and Unabridged by Hannah Hurnard
I relate quite well to Hannah Hurnard’s Hind’s Feet on High Places’ Much-Afraid.
It seems as though these feet came tiny and timid into this wide vast world. A Good God gave a human paraclete named, Sara, who was formed in mama’s womb with me.  Ever-steadier and able to fill the lonely fearful gaps of my young life.
But even a twin cannot take away the paralyzing fears of thunder and lightning storms that had me on our windowless bathroom floor with lights on to shield the electric fear that shocked my soul with it’s fiery lashes into the black night.  Ears plugged to drown out the sounds that quaked my insides even in their faintest rumblings.
Imagination full from wee days, I envisioned snakes slithering behind me as I ran up stairs, boogey man’s cold sinister fingers grabbing me in dark halls, and all manner of evil running rampant in the dark.
I still don’t like to even remember what this fear felt or even tasted like.  Especially the dark.  Oh, the dark. 
When I walked through a time of healing prayer this summer, I uncovered some of the lies that wove around these fears that I have too long and too deep believed.
  • I am ALONE
  • I am UNLOVED
  • No one cares enough to fight for me
  • Though God is real, He abandons
  • His desire is to take me somewhere hard, even dangerous, and leave me there
My curling stomach hates these lies and how their poisonous tasting erodes all peace and Love’s great enveloping. 
I want to tell you that fear was a thing of a little girl whose mind was way too big for her young soul. 
I want to tell you that the clarity of truth has pulled out fear’s insidious root system entwined in my being.
But, the truth of this Much-Afraid’s journey is that while I have danced on mountaintops of Courage’s Limitless Joy, I all-too-often have sunk back into fear’s dark cavern and cowered away from a Life that is Full and Fullest.
I have named my Enemy and have even seen its face of Evil in a dream yet as clear as the blue sky of autumn though 15 years have passed since it first revealed the Who of what lay behind this rotten thing.
I know the Victorious Name as the Only One my gasping voice could rasp to see he who is already defeated cut down with but one utter…
And I am learning, learning, learning to slow to the Whisper of each moment’s choice as the One Who Loves me with a Neverending, All-Other-Power-or-Principality-Obliterating, Never-to-be-doubted love sweetly soothes me with the command tender and yet precise to ‘not fear’.
I am stilled and encouraged to read of the Prophet Elijah who riding fresh and full the defeat of the Priests of Baal runs in full tilt fear for his life from the one whose power he just witnessed defeated and who finds too the whisper as the Voice to know who is God.  Who is All in All.  Who is ever to be trusted and tucked secure and protected within.
I testify from a Much-Afraid heart that this hideous fear may very well be both the driving force to desperation that calls forth in my life the Glory of God far greater than a heart which feared much less ever would AND that thorn in my flesh which beckons me to ever lean on a Strength I cannot not know unless I am weak.
Perhaps, friend, this is the tool of fear made altogether new in the Master’s Hand?

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