Conquering Fear Pt. 2

Maybe I was four.

I was definitely no older than five.

I was youthful.  And unsuspecting. 

From the yard, I had crossed the carport and opened the screen door.  As I popped into the house, I announced, “There’s a big worm out there.”  My family, either curious or suspicious, moved toward the door.  Looking out, their intrigue turned to intensity.  Mama may have screamed.  Daddy definitely scurried.  Turns out that it was no big worm at all; it was actually a big snake and it was lying right in front of our side door.  Oblivious to any potential threat, in my innocence and naiveté, I had stepped right over it to get into the house. 

I don’t know; maybe it was then and there that I learned to be afraid of snakes.    

They call it ophidiophobia. 

But despite this fear, a couple of months ago I took 9-year-old Dominic and 7-year-old DeMario, my great-nephews, to Fernbank Museum of Natural History–on reptile day.  We entered the exhibit hall and I secured our places in the long, winding line.  Wide-eyed and animated, the boys, like the other children, could barely contain their excitement.        

We passed the lizards.  We admired the tortoises. 

Dominic ooohed and DeMario aaahed as we came to case after case of snake after snake, each one appearing bigger than the last.  And then we reached the python.  This one, unlike the other reptiles, was uncaged and slithering in the hands of its handler.  The handler invited the boys to touch it.  I stepped back, but encouraged them forward.  “They’re boys,” I thought.  “They’re little men.  They shouldn’t be afraid.”  Unnerved, the boys reached out and grasped the python. 

Then the handler looked squarely at me.  I looked warily back at him.  And I knew.

“You should touch it too,” he said.  “No, I shouldn’t,” I countered.  “Come on,” he continued.  I mentally noted that I hadn’t heard him urge anyone else this way.  He’d let aaaallllll of the other families just keep on going.  Pet and pass.  Pet and pass.  Until us.  He just kept on pressing.  It wasn’t obnoxious or pushy, just persistent.  He didn’t know it, but I understood that I was being challenged.  Again. 

It was me, myself and I vs. Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  And my team was losing. 

“I’m scared.”  “How can you encourage them to do something that you won’t do?” 

“But I’m really scared.”  “Be the example.” 

“It’s scary looking.”  “Let them see you do it scared.” 

“I can’t do it.”  “Teach them about fear.” 

And so then, with a final “Yes, God,” I forfeited.  I stepped up to the table beside the boys and reached for the snake.  Nerved, I put my hand around the python.  And I kept it there. 

When we proceeded to move down the line, on to the next, the lady behind us stopped me to get my number.  She had taken a picture and wanted to send it to me.  “I couldn’t have done it,” she exclaimed.  “You must have touched a snake before.”  “No,” I said.  “I haven’t.”  Shocked, she said, “You’re so brave.”  And with that, my phone pinged, signaling the delivery of the pictures.  Little did she know that in my reluctant obedience, I didn’t feel brave at all.          

A couple of hours later, over ice cream in the café, the boys and I talked about conquering fear. But it wasn’t until the next day, as I talked to DeMario’s father, that I realized the power of the moment and the significance of the day.  DeMario waited patiently and listened intently as I told his dad about our adventure.  And when I finished, he boldly added, “And you conquered your fear!”  And with that one exclamation, I realized that I hadn’t lost at all; it had most definitely been a win-win day.

Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?”

The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”

“You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves.

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?”

He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”

-Genesis 3:1-10 NIV

Eve. 

She was youthful and unsuspecting too.  The only voices that she’d likely ever heard were God’s, Adam’s and her own.  Imagine her surprise as the serpent began to talk to her, as it began to speak her language.  Innocent and naïve, she would have had no concept of deception.  She had no idea that the serpent’s speech was venomous, that its lies were poison to her body, to her soul, and to her spirit.  She had no idea that disobedience to God’s truth was death.

Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”

The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

So the Lord God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this, “Cursed are you above all livestock
    and all wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
    and you will eat dust
    all the days of your life.

And I will put enmity
    between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head,
    and you will strike his heel.”

-Genesis 3:13-15 NIV

Before setting out on a hike recently, the guide said something to the group that, because I was preparing my heart for this post at the time, really struck me.  Simple yet sage, he said, “Snakes don’t strike unless they feel threatened.  They’re more afraid of us.”  And there in the mountains, I thought back to the Garden.  What did mankind possess that threatened the serpent?  And then, as my mind wandered back to the mountains, I wondered, “What do I possess that makes satan afraid of me?”   

So often, as Christians, we’re either in agreement with or intimidated by the serpent.  There are many times when the enemy’s voice sounds strikingly familiar—it has the pitch and timbre of my own.  The language of timidity, anxiety, worry and dread are not foreign; I can speak them fluently.  As one pastor said it, “Sometimes the enemy is the inner me.”  I can be my own worst enemy.  It’s kind of ironic that I naturally recoil when I see stories of violence or loss on the evening news, where the activity of the serpent is so obvious; but then I allow the hiss of a negative thought or untruth to burrow in my mind.  I pet and ponder. 

What about you?  Does fear show up in your life like an uninvited guest?  Or is it a frequent visitor to your home?  Does it often lie in wait at the door of your heart?  

It’s been over 40 years since my daddy killed that snake at our doorstep.  I don’t remember what he used to kill it, but frankly, it doesn’t matter.  What’s important is that he loved his family enough to eliminate what threatened us and our home.  What matters is that he protected us. 

Well—it’s been over 2000 years since God, Abba Father, eliminated the threat to His children.  Using the wood of Calvary, Jesus’s bruised heel did indeed crush satan’s head, just like Genesis promised us that it would.  And the Cross?  That does matter.  Because of it, by it, we are protected. 

But if that wasn’t enough, in Luke 10:19 ESV (emphasis added) Jesus says, “Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.”  To tread means “to trample; to crush with the feet; to advance by setting foot upon; to pressure with the foot.”  So today, I’m here to encourage you to stop tiptoeing and to start treading.  If you feel like everything that can go wrong is going wrong, then tread.  Or if it seems like you’re being attacked from every side, then tread.  Tread like your life depends on it…because it does.  And not just yours, but your family’s as well. 

So how do we do that exactly?  How do we tread?  By giving, loving, sharing, encouraging, inspiring, listening, caring, praying, praising, believing.  By obeying God.  By walking in truth.  By being the light.  By realizing that what God does in us and what He produces through us has the power to intimidate darkness. 

Do I plan on petting anymore pythons?  That’d be a hard no.  But I can say that instead of fear gripping me, for once, I gripped it.  And I’ve learned that sometimes conquering fear is for you, so you can know that you can do it.  Other times, it’s for other people, so that when they see you do it, they feel empowered to do it too.

Be brave, sis.  You’re more than a conqueror. 

PRINCIPLE:  And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:38-39 NLT