Down By the Riverside

“Then Jesus said, ‘Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.’ (Matthew 11:28-30).”

Last week was a bad week. And every time I have a bad week, I start to feel afraid. Last week was no different.

I grew up having to handle a lot of tough situations, and sometimes I had moments where I would “sink” - where my mind would shut down and I would go to this deep place inside myself and not want to come out. My counselor assures me this is normal for people who grew up in homes like I did. I think he is possibly just being kind. He assures me, though, that I am not crazy.

But that is my fear. That I will sink into a crazy deep place and not come out. When I have a bad week and I start to feel overwhelmed, this fear starts to grow.

“See, Jess.” whispers the dark voice that is not Jesus. “You can’t handle your life.”

My solution to combat my fear is to try to control. To try harder to prove I can handle my life, to show everyone (and myself) that I am handling everything just fine. I am fine, I tell them as I scurry from task to task trying to manage everything. Getting fewer things accomplished, talking to the Lord less.

I know that not everyone in my life has the same fear. My friends struggle with fears about their children, fears about their husbands, fears about finances. But I’ve noticed that a lot of us have the same response: we all try to control our situations so that the thing we are most afraid of will not happen.

For me, it’s proving that I am in control of my schedule and household, that indeed I am capable and strong. For another friend in my life, it’s controlling her husband’s relationship with God. If she tries hard enough then maybe he’ll be the man of God she hopes he will be. I have another friend who is really afraid she will struggle with anger like her mother. She works really hard to never show any anger or frustration to her children, even when it is probably appropriate.

And so we fight against these fears. Instead of bringing them to the feet of Jesus, we struggle to hold our own lives together, hoping that what we fear the most will not happen.

But what we don’t realize is that the fear is a lie. A lie about me and my friends. And, ultimately, a lie about the Lord. Because the more we fight against the fear, the less we are surrendering to God. The harder we try, the less we are letting Him in.

But today, I want to let Him in. I want to open my hands and say, “Ok, Lord. Here is exactly what I am afraid of. Help me to see the truth right now.”

And when I talk to Jesus about my fear instead of trying to fight it, then He begins to show me His truth. And the truth is that I am not crazy. That my destiny isn’t to sink into a deep, dark place - it’s to be lifted out of the pit and set on solid ground (Psalm 40). God’s destiny for my life is all about learning to trust Him.

And it’s the destiny for everyone who follows after the heart of God.

If we turn to Him, if we bring Him our messy, weird, unique fears, He’ll take them. Every single one. And when He takes the fear, He replaces the empty spot in our hearts left by the fear with something wonderful. His Presence.

And as we begin to move forward through life choosing to be filled with His Presence instead of fear, we begin to feel and taste and breathe and savor the freedom that comes from living life boldly. It is a great and glorious thing to begin to live without fear - to put Jesus in the place where fear and control used to live.

So today I am laying down my fear at His feet. It’s too heavy for me. I don’t want to carry it around anymore. Besides, I know that God has a glorious destiny for my life.

And I want to get started.