You’ve probably experienced some fears in the last week. Fears are endemic and always threatening to become pandemic!
I’m at an age and season of life when I expect many changes – including some good changes – in the next few years. Frankly, I’ve been more fearful and anxious in recent months. Vague risks. Unsettling prospects. All the changes I anticipate represent some loss. I’ve spent significant energy managing those emotions.
It comes down to courage.
I’ve put myself on a steady diet of history, films, and biography to help me think courageously and work through imagination to a stronger mindset. (Ask me, and I’ll send you a list of recommendations.)
This is how to use art and literature to fortify yourself, knowing that there is “a great cloud of witnesses” who have the run the race before you. We must constantly learn anew where to place our hope.
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When our kids were little we explained dying this way: “Remember all those times when you fell asleep in one place, then woke up in your bed or in another room, carried there by mom or dad? That’s what dying is like. You go to sleep, are carried by Someone who loves you, and you wake up in a better place.”
When our kids were older I would tell them that dying was not the worst thing that could happen.
Now that I’m considerably older I dread some of the worst-than-dying situations I can imagine. When it comes to fears, my imagination needs to be disciplined to help me anticipate and plan and choose, rather than endlessly spin up dystopian futures that drain all hope.
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Reframing our fearful view of the world is necessary self-leadership. I wrote this six years ago, and it’s still true:
Frustrated? Angry? Read this.
Not long ago I left the office, fuming with frustration, and headed home. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. I got a glass of ice water and sat down with my journal, took a deep breath, took another one, and then wrote this out. I’m sharing because I hope this helps some others, too.
I want to acknowledge how ungrateful I am. I leave my office most days tired, frustrated, unsatisfied. I selfishly want so much more, most of the time, that I fail to remember how good I have it.
I am extraordinarily blessed with wife, children, and extended family. I have handfuls of deep friendships.
Spiritually I am filthy rich in Christ Jesus, a citizen of heaven by grace, and able to rely upon the strength of the gospel day by day. I have nothing to fear because “the God of angel armies is by my side.”
I live a comfortable, affluent life. Kings of old could not imagine the conveniences we take for granted. I use more technology daily than sci-fi writers in 1950 wrote about. I’m in a generation that is living longer and healthier at older ages than any previous generation. I live in one of the freest safest countries on earth.
Our travel options are so grand I could get to almost anywhere on the planet within 3 days of starting out. People the world over speak (or want to speak) my native language.
Intellectually I get to live in an idea-rich world, practically unlimited access to data, and I’ve benefited from 21 years of formal schooling and post-doctoral studies. I have the tools to capture and share my writing with others. I have meaningful work with smart, savvy, hard-working colleagues. We’re contributing to our company’s efforts to tackle a handful of the most important problems in the world, including feeding a growing world population.
I have abundant opportunities to serve others.
I have no reasons for complaints, none. I should have only room and energy for gratitude. Perhaps the most significant battle I get to fight (not need to, but get to) is the fight for joy and gratitude.
Let’s transform our fears into the right kind of action – especially fights for joy and gratitude, and fights against injustice.
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I’m learning to be alert to times when my procrastinating has a root cause of fear.
Inconvenience, preference, or laziness are poor reasons to procrastinate. Those plainly require self-discipline. Stepping past fear requires courage. Daily.
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Not all fears are bad.
We call it prudence when healthy fears point out needless risks for zero gains.
The Bible tells us that the proper fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. Fear of God and obedience to the commands of the King of Kings keeps us in our proper place.
These aren’t the fears that gnaw at our hearts and paralyze our minds.
Selfishness has roots in fear – especially fear that we live in a zero-sum game, and if you get yours then I won’t get mine.
Fleeing from our calling is often connected to our fears.
Fear mixed with pride and immaturity, flavored with selfishness, is a truly toxic brew. Even the aroma of that brew can ruin relationships and keep people from thriving in community. This is why the battle with fear is worthy of our best efforts.
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