The Confines of Fear:
I think I'm doing what's best, being logical, weighing my options so I can be sure to choose the right one. And so often, when left to my own devices, I chose wrong. I've probably got something like a 50/50 record of choosing best. If even.. let's be honest here.
I've come to realize I act out of fear all too often.
I like to mask it as trying to be rational. Weighing my pros and cons. But if I'm candid, I've gotta say I'm just scared senseless. It's all just a haze to hide my fear of taking action. So I sit, overanalyze and judge every decision until I make it pointless to take a step one way or the other. I sit in apathy about the whole thing and hope that at some point, something will just shove me toward one of the paths --a door will close, a ray of angelic light will hit me and the choruses will sing. I sit in empty hope that the choice will be made for me. I sit; wallowing in the fear of making a decision with the possibility of being wrong. I strive for perfection. I fear anything less. And it completely paralyzes me.
One of my favorite professors in the dance department had a mantra she would preach to us almost every class of my freshmen year: "Be present, not perfect." She would say it as often as she breathed. This year I've come to realize how that saying is just as valuable as the air we breathe.
Aiming for perfection seems to tear me down. It gives me a heavy blow right behind the knees, and all of the sudden I'm staring at the ceiling. Bruised and broken with my back to the ground and the wind knocked right out of me. I seem farthest away from my goal when I'm striving hardest to reach it. My own attempts, my own feeble efforts, get me nowhere but exhaustion and defeat every single time. And I hope to God I'm not alone in this...
I push myself to hard. I overcommit. I over schedule. I get anxious about whether or not I'm being responsible enough, over whether or not I'm living up to expectations. I forget to eat meals because I get so focused on tasks at hand. I've found I physically push myself to breaking points. I avoid emotion. I avoid being vulnerable and honest. I say no to so many parts of life. All for the sake of aiming for perfection. All in drastic effort to be seen as worthy.
And I judge. I judge others who try to find that worth in ways that I deem less valid, messier, and in my eyes, imperfect. Wrong. I try to stay away from the mess. I isolate myself from anyone and everyone that might harm my goal of attaining perfection by reaching their grubby little hands out towards my life, even Jesus.
But here's the thing: we're all failing.
None of us are reaching our goal. None of us are able to measure our worth through the actions we take; we're all still left empty that way. We're all still a mess. I'm a complete mess. I will never be perfect, so I might as well stop aiming for it now. I might as well embrace it. Embrace my mess. Embrace my weakness and just be present in it. Try to live open and honestly from there. Present, not perfect.
See, I try so hard to avoid flaws -in myself and others. I struggle to avoid weakness for the sake of self-preservation, forgetting that in weakness and humbleness is where God works best. I try to mold and shield myself, forgetting that I am not my creator. And who else would have more concern or care for a piece of work than the one who actually formed it by hand? Who would try harder to preserve my goodness and chip away at all my flaws and imperfections? No one but my maker.
I want control so bad. I want to know what's best for me. I want to have the answers and follow what I think is rationally best. The unknown is scary. Being imperfect is scary. Trusting God with my life is downright terrifying. But in trying to do it myself, I cut myself short. I stand in the way of perfect care and strength. I stand in the way of God's purpose. Now God can use anyone and anything to complete his mission, he doesn't need me. But isn't it a shame when we have the opportunity, when he invites us to have a part in his beautiful work and we reject it? When we don't commit? When we don't surrender to his plan -what he's asking us to do, where he's asking us to go? When we reject the masterpiece he's trying to form us into?
This year I have come to see the difference in my quality of life when I just hand over the wheel. When I go for the decisions I know I need to make, even if they terrify me. Saying yes to life can be so joyful and freeing. There is so much reward in surrendering control. I've also come to realize the hesitation, and even pure panic and fear of irresponsibility, I feel right before these moments of incomparable peace and joy. But those feelings don't always mean I should turn around. Slow down, process, listen for God. But he's not calling you to stop your pursuit of him. If I don't snap out of these short instances of doubt and terror they're just enough to send me flying into a tailspin, frantically reaching for the wheel. Instead of belting out Underwood's well known ballad of surrender, I find myself shouting something more like "JESUS, who trusted you with the wheel in the first place?! No! Gimmie that back! There's no way you know how to drive this car -do you even know where the breaks are?.. You just missed the exit! Get off the highway. Get off the road. Just get OUT!"
I have seen this pattern in me over the past few weeks as I have been trying to prepare for my Cru Summer Project and contemplating future missions. I see God's direction for my life playing out and it scares me. Don't get me wrong, I'm out of my mind excited...but also super terrified.
It's like we're driving in a storm, and we can only see maybe 50 feet ahead.
I feel a lot like the how I imagine the disciples must have felt as Jesus fell asleep in their boat:
"Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping" (Matthew 8:24)
Now here's the image I tend to get merging these two pictures:
I'm in the car, shotgun, and I have a clear view of the conditions outside. It's foggy, there's downpour, and here's Jesus -on cruise control, just coasting the highway without worry. Hello, are you kidding me?! We're gonna crash, take some control here! The disciples had the same kind of reaction:
"The disciples went and woke him up, saying "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!" (8:25)
But as Jesus wakes up in the boat, as he takes the car off cruise control, as he calms the storm, He replies "you of little faith, why are you so afraid?" (8:26)
See, I've had Jesus calm storms in my life. I've experienced his provision through inspiring feats. Scripture talks repeatedly of how he delivers, he provides, he rescues. I know he has control. He has come through for me, and will continue to do so. And if I trust him with my life, why am I not calm when he is calm? Why am I so afraid? Why am I not okay with being the weak one? The one that doesn't know the plan and can do nothing but be obedient to the call of someone who knows better. Why can't I even just get myself to admit that I am not the one who knows best? There is no way I can avoid weakness and imperfection at project this summer. My weakness, inconsistency, and lack of faith has been highlighted just in my preparation for it.
What's more, is that I'm so concentrated on the fear. I'm so concentrated on the question of, and realization that my faith is small and my doubts stretch wide. I'm so fixated that I too often look back to see I've missed his kind encouragement, his steady reassurance: "Don't be afraid. Take courage. I am here." (14:27 NLT)
So I've been trying to be more aware. More open. More obedient. I've been trying my hand at being present instead of perfect. Because fear is confining, and the presence of Jesus is liberating. I just have to remember to keep my eyes off the wind and the waves and instead focus on reaching towards my loving Savior.
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