Fear not!

Fear is a reality for all of us. It is impossible to say we are completely fearless. We fear all sorts of things. Some times they are little things, like arriving late at a meeting or not making the impression we want. Sometimes they are heavy going, and involve some sort of loss (including the loss of our own lives) or some other horrid occurrence. Fear is real. 

It is no secret I underwent surgery recently. I’m not planning to discuss the actual surgery, but I do want to share feelings that went hand in hand with it. There were so many triggers. Some smaller fears were that there’d be delays to the surgery as a result of me contracting COVID or even just a bug. I became super vigilant. Then there was fear over managing Loki while I was away in hospital and during my recovery. My dad isn’t in a position to do this on his own. I also feared the kind of Christmas we’d be having. I love the festivities of Christmas and whilst I acknowledge and fully believe that Jesus’ birth is at the heart of Christmas, I do like coming together with family and friends over the season’s gaieties. 

There were also bigger worries that were triggered by some rather unhelpful comments. The people concerned, upon hearing that my haemoglobin levels were low, decided to share example after example of people dying in surgery because of low haemoglobin. This sharing, did trigger a worry deep within me about getting my affairs in order so that my dad is looked after. It is a prayer of mine, to outlive my dad, simply because I think parents should never have to say goodbye to a child. I watched my granny grieve my mum. It was cruel. The fear in me was so big as a result of these comments that I ran out the next day to get my affairs put in order. I had been strictly avoiding any sort of outing, but I felt I had to act so that my dad was taken care of. It also made me think about my own mortality. What if this really was the end? What if my dad had to bury his daughter? I’m not ashamed to confess that I did cry about this as I prayed those nights leading up to surgery. I know and I believe with all my heart that Jesus can do all things. Equally, I know and believe that He doesn’t have to do all things I want Him to do. He is wiser than me, I reasoned. He knows best, I told myself. I kept thinking about this, only to feel Him remind me that He is good. God is good. I say that all the time. But what does it really mean?

God is good, even when He doesn’t respond the way I want Him to. My job is to trust His response regardless of whether I like it. My job is to trust Him regardless of how afraid I feel. And I did feel afraid. I was afraid that His Will for me was different this time. The unhelpful comments unnerved me and I was afraid. Yet, I knew that He was and is good. “This is head knowledge, Lord,” I prayed. It needed to get real. 

It was then that Romans 8: 35 popped right into my head: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?’ It spoke to me. It said that even in the instance of something happening completely against my hopes and prayers, I could trust God because He is good. He sent Jesus to die for me and the fear that Jesus must’ve felt before going to the cross was terrible, as his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood (Luke 22:44). This is it. This good God, sent His pure Son, to die, for me, a sinful being. This could not have been the desired outcome of anyone, that a glorious God, is slain for sinners. Yet, it happened. Not because of an abusive God but because of a good God. A good God who used this terrible instance to bring me into His fold. A good God who actually made it possible for me not to fear, in the event I die. 

My apologies for not being able to express this clearly or more eloquently, but the peace that fell upon me was surreal, as my mind spoke to me.: “Whether I live or die, God is good. He can be trusted. He must be glorified. I must rely on Him completely and surrender all.” It was in this moment that I felt fear vanish and calm settle in. I was able to joke with doctors and nurses prior to surgery and there’s a whole load of babble that went on about my going to the cinema (so they claim), when I woke up (I have no recollection). I just do not remember feeling anymore fear. I felt supported and held by my Lord Jesus. 

I have to speak about this. I just got home tonight. And as I lay my head down to sleep, I know that all life is in God’s Hands. All things that matter are in His Hands. Whatever the night brings, whatever the troubles of the days ahead, I do now begin to grasp a little why the Angel said “fear not,” in Luke 2:10-11: “And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” As I spend this time leading up to Christmas in recovery, I am so grateful to God for this truth that He has granted us. We can trust Him and we can well and truly have nothing to fear!