You are not your fear

I'm obsessed with all things French.

Seriously. Obsessed. Love their chocolate. Love the fact that they eat their chocolate for breakfast (and lunch, and afternoon espresso hour, and dinner). Love their culture and their fashion. But most of all, I love their language.

My husband has slowly begun to recognize this. Last night, for instance, we watched a documentary that featured a sub-titled French speaker. During the other parts of the film, I was on my phone, checking Twitter, blah blah. Doing all those "I'm kind of here but also somewhere else"-type things. But when she spoke? My head snapped up, and I was there.

"Now I know how to get your attention," husband said. "I just have to speak to you in French."

He was kidding, but let's be honest. It would probably work. To me, everything (I love you, you're beautiful) sounds better en français (je t'aime, tu es belle).

Beautiful, non? But here's my favorite phrase of all:

"J'ai peur."

In English, we translate those words to mean "I am afraid"—a line I couldn't be more familiar with.

Yes, as previously established, the English substitute for "j'ai peur" is "I am afraid." But literally translated, "j'ai peur" means "I have fear"—not I am fear, or I am afraid.

Eze, France

This revelation was massive for me. Never struggled with fear, worry, or anxiety? Think of the concept in these terms, then. "I am a writer. I am a doctor. I am ranked first in my class."

The difference between being and having: If I am a writer, and for whatever reason, I'm no longer able to write, my identity will take a blow. I might begin to question my worth. I may cease to see my value. I might forget my purpose. If I am afraid, then fear is a part of who I am—which certainly presents a huge challenge to my identity, since Christ repeatedly commands His children, "Do not be afraid."

It comes to this. Our identity is found in Christ—not in our struggles, our status, our job titles, our accomplishments, or even our victories—so we can never be shaken. We'll never find ourselves by looking in the mirror, but we'll always find ourselves by looking at Him.

Eze, France

"For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” Romans 8:14-15

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20

In the fifth grade, fear hit again. Only this time, I wasn’t just afraid. I was panic-stricken. I have memories of wailing for my mom to take me back home once I got to school. Even at the age of 10, screaming from the backseat, I was shaken to the bone by the feeling that I’d jumped out of my mind with no way of getting back in.

Aside from these bouts with irrational anxiety, my childhood was beautiful, slow, and pure. By the grace of God, I grew up in true innocence—unaware of evil and kept completely from darkness, even in my teens. So when the final tidal wave of anxiety came, it nearly destroyed me.

By age 17, as the newly-elected varsity cheerleading captain, I was confident that I had both of my feet planted firmly on the top of the world. And then, suddenly, they weren't. What had once been a fun “extra” in life—that is, cheerleading—quickly became the stuff of nightmares. Emails were sent about me. I was accused of being un-Christian, unfair, not who I seemed to be, a mean girl, a bully…a rumor even spread that I had vandalized someone’s house. At the end of the year, a lawsuit was filed against my high school. The media picked up the story. I lost about 10 pounds due to stress. I quit the team. I graduated.

Unfortunately, the madness of that year continued to haunt me.

To escape it, I “ran away” to attend college in California. By the time I got there, though, I was numb. My character had been called into question; I'd been labeled a liar, a fake, and a fraud every day for the last year…what if I was?

That seemingly innocent question exploded in the form of the most powerful, all-encompassing sense of darkness I have ever faced. Rather than fighting against the real accusations that had flooded me for a year, I simply swallowed them until they transmuted into that same, familiar, irrational fear. The result? Over the course of my freshman year of college, I felt as though I could not see two inches in front of my face. Outwardly, I was functioning. Inwardly, anxiety had descended like a physical weight. I wore it on and in my chest—thick and heavy, poisonous and suffocating. This time, the trigger was the same, but different. I wasn’t afraid of throwing up, but I was afraid of being twisted somehow. Dark, horrific images flooded my mind. I was gripped with panic, digging and digging and digging inwardly to prove that I wasn’t just a pretender. That I was healthy and whole—the same person I had always been.

My identity was not only in crisis. It seemed utterly and completely obliterated, and I felt as though I was nothing more than a black mark. At that time, I related to no Bible verse more than this:

Psalm 55:3-5

My thoughts trouble me and I am distraught because of what my enemy is saying, because of the threats of the wicked; for they bring down suffering on me and assail me in their anger. My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death have fallen on me. Fear and trembling have beset me; horror has overwhelmed me.”

During this time, "I am afraid" was the primary utterance of my mouth; the first confession I made every single morning. Although the Lord began to do a deeply healing work in my life the summer after my freshman year of college, it wasn't until I went to live and work in France two years later that the Lord highlighted "j'ai peur" to me.

What a huge, significant difference this makes! From childhood, I had been claiming fear as a part of who I am with the words "I am afraid." When in reality, I've only ever had it—which means that, in Christ, I have the ability to lay it down at any time. Excuse me, what?!

The truth is, we "are" none of these things. We are children of God; servants of the King; saved; redeemed; transformed; called by a new name; immeasurably valuable; deeply loved; chosen; secure. We have struggles; fears; concerns; jobs; positions; ambitions; ranks; goals; accolades; recognition.

And so, if I simply have these things? Well, let's just say that I might be "hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Cor. 4:8-9)

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him." 1 John 3:1

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." Hebrews 6:19

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." Hebrews 10:23

. . .

More on battling anxiety + depression here

More on finding healing here

This is it, part two

I am thrilled to share today's first guest post on The Well: This is it, part II. The author, Beth Kiker, is a fantastic and godly woman who I am beyond blessed to call my mother-in-law. Beth originally wrote this as a letter in response to This is it (now dubbed "part I" in this two-part series on contentment), but I convinced her to let me share it publicly. I know that you will be blessed and encouraged today as you read her words of wisdom. 

. . .

Karley’s post on contentment, “This is it,” deals with what I call the "value issue" that most women seem to wrestle with at some point in time. In this day and age, it is so important to know the Truth and that what He says is the truth...He IS enough. We must arm ourselves daily with this Word, because unfortunately, the value issue so often becomes a reoccurring struggle.

Although by the grace of God we may experience precious moments of knowing who we are in Christ—a princess, a child of God, a joint heir with Jesus—unfortunately, this doesn't mean these questions of worth and value will not return again and again in the future. In fact, satan is such a clever and devious (fill in the blank), that he will not only bring these doubts back, but will also use others to make us question whether we've done enough, been enough, worked enough, or made the right decision in being on the path we've chosen.  

In my experience, the most innocent question—"What do you do?"—from a stranger waiting in line can have the ability to trigger hours of second thoughts after having answered, "I'm a housewife and stay-at-home mom."  How lame, I begin to say to myself. I should be doing something else, most of my friends work outside the home, the kids are in school most the day, I should have a part-time job, I'm not even using my college degree, and on and on. But here’s the truth: It's not just women who are in this situation. And then there's the flip side of the woman/mom who does have a full-time job, but struggles with leaving before the kids go to school, not being home when the kids get home, not cooking a home-cooked breakfast, lunch or dinner because of work hours, being late or not making it to basketball, soccer, football, baseball practices or games because of work, or being too worn out after working all day to want to do ANYTHING else with her husband or family. That’s a whole other area of feeling inadequate or questioning, “Is THIS it?”

The point is, I know very few women who think their lives are perfect or have been perfect, or feel they have accomplished all they wanted to, or believe they’ve met the expectations that others had for them. But if we can truly be content with where we are at each point in our lives, THAT should be a point of accomplishment in itself.  

By all means, we should continue dreaming and having ambition—but it should all be filtered by the wisdom of God and His plans for us.  This doesn't mean we won't have disappointments or regrets. But you know what? When we look back on our lives, and we measure accomplishment in terms of the lives we have touched and influenced, and the people and activities we have poured our energy and heart into, I believe we will hear that still small voice of Peace and Joy saying, "Well done".

We live in a time of hyped up media and glam. Not every moment in our lives will be super exciting, super romantic, or super special, especially according to the world's standards and views. But like Karley’s blog stated: He is enough, regardless of anything else. If this head knowledge truly becomes heart knowledge for all of us, then we will be well-equipped for this life journey and blessed, blessed, blessed.

"So many things I thought would bring me happiness,

Some dreams that are realities today.

But it's such an irony the things that mean the most to me

Are the memories that I made along the way."

. . .

 

The ultimate Well is Jesus Christ, by whom we as Christians are filled, purified, and poured out over the world as thirst-quenchers and drought-enders. On this blog, The Well will function as a collection zone for spiritually-centered posts. A place where you can click to—prayerfully—be filled as you read God-stories and words of inspiration written by both myself and other contributors.

"...But whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:14

"The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11

"I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint." Jeremiah 31:25

Painting: a process

Every painting has a process. 

And as an artist, every time I go through that process, I'm reminded of all the work the Lord has done in my life to turn ordinary—or even ugly—things into a beautiful reflection of Him.

It goes like this: He spots something empty; a place inside that's doing nothing for me, much less for anyone else. Maybe it's pride. Maybe it's perfection. Whatever it is, it needs to be transformed.

So He takes out His palette, and begins His work. At first, it can be scary. Things might look even uglier than they did before.

Then, slowly, things begin to change. Color is introduced. Things look brighter. What was once dead begins to show signs of life.

He surprises me, laying down the first strokes of a grander, more elaborate design for my life than I could have ever dreamed up on my own.

Next, He humbles me, showing me He's a God who cares not only about the big picture, but about the tiny details of my life. The cares and concerns, the need for confirmation; the things I think are too small or insignificant to bring before Him.

It can be hard and uncomfortable to let Him shine His light into the places we try to keep hidden. The fears. The doubts. The insecurities.

But the most glorious part of this process?

He's already paid for all of it—everything ugly, everything painful, everything I've done that says I don't deserve the grace He gives—on the cross. He's already spoken the words, "It is finished." (John 19:30)

 

Praise God, redemption has happened! Sanctification? That's ongoing...meaning there's always something new for Him to work on.

Good thing He's the Master of turning nothings into somethings.

Isaiah 61:3: "...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor."

 ~

"Joy Comes in the Morning"
Mixed Media on Canvas
by Karley Kiker
2013
www.karleyart.com