We’re all afraid of something – it’s a pretty normal human reaction. There’s even a part of our brains that is like the homebase to fear. The amygdala is like the emotional control center, with a greater emphasis on the emotion of fear, and then communicates with the rest of the brain to prepare for action. So let’s say for example a spider descends down a string of its web in front of my face. My eyes take in all the shapes and colours in front of me, and my brain categorizes it as ‘spider’. My brain also knows that spiders are to be feared (my brain does, others might like spiders), and they’re usually armed and dangerous. My amygdala lights up like a fireball, and rapidly fires a message to my hypothalamus and nervous system. Everything stops except the fight-flight-or-freeze reaction – in this scenario, it’s usually flight. My pupils widen, a bead of sweat might roll out of my temple, my heart pumps faster, my digestive system takes a pause so all resources can go towards fleeing from the danger zone. Once safety has been accomplished, all systems calm down, and resume normal activity.

I wouldn’t consider myself a fearful person, but put a spider in my face and I might punch you (except when I’m around kids, then somehow I muster up enough bravery to bludgeon the black ball of disgustingness to death. No regrets). There are others things I’m afraid of, like free falling, drowning, and swimming with fish, but that is most definitely not what my dad asked me to write about when he posed the question, “What do you fear?”. I’m also now convinced he wants all of my vulnerabilities to be put on the table considering that two of the three blogs I’ve written thus far cause me to be really transparent – what have I gotten myself into!

But in all seriousness, what do I fear?

The very first thing that popped into my head was not what I was expecting, but I’m hoping that as I write God will reveal to me things I don’t even fully know about myself. Welcome to the journey of my writing process.

So here is it: I fear that I’m never doing enough.

It’s funny because there’s an article that talks about the one-liner for each Myers Briggs type, and for mine it says, and I quote, “Get off your a** and do something”. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought that towards someone else, and even to myself. I live in this constant state of urgency, knowing that my actions have the power to influence lives. I’ve heard enough stories about people growing up without a supportive person, and the opposite of that, to know that simple acts of being present in people’s lives can change everything. I’m constantly thinking of ways to create spaces for the next generation to have a place to recognize their God-given potential (so they can go and do something), and to have a support system of people who love them dearly and see them for who – and Whose – they truly are rather that who the world tells them they are.

This is great and all, and I will forever be striving to act on this passion that God has put on my heart, BUT where it becomes an unhealthy fear is when (1) I carry the burden on my own, convincing myself that I’m the only one in the world to do such a task, and (2) I think I have to do so much to earn my own salvation.

The first point can be explained by a brief emotional breakdown I had a year ago. I had worked myself into the ground with full time schooling, ministry work part time, and volunteering, and all this included trying to pour into all the students I worked with directly – taking them out for coffee, going to their sports games, etc. And then mix in family time, and a social life. My go-go-go normal self became extremely introverted and could no longer function in the world. Thankfully this was only a brief time, knowing that there are many people who have had hard burnout periods, but it proved to be a valuable lesson for me. I don’t have to do everything for everyone. And when I say no to something or someone, I’m not a complete failure at life.

Now for the second point. I’ve always wrestled with the contradicting verses, “It’s only by faith that you’ve been saved” and “Faith without deeds is dead”. Whether consciously or unconsciously, I put heavier weight on the latter. I discovered this year that I believed I had to work for me faith – I had to keep doing things to keep God happy, and make sure He knew that I wanted to actively live for Him. When your subconscious believes that you will only be saved through doing everything possible in this world, the motivation is fear. But maybe that active faith doesn’t mean a literal run? Maybe an active faith means pursue Me; follow Me; let Me do the work.

This is a hard reality for me to learn. My whole being lives actively, and I will forever be willing to call people out of excuses to have a faith that is more literally active, BUT for me I need the constant reminder that the motivation behind my actions can’t be fear. It needs to be based on a love that only comes from the Father, and a faith that let’s God lead the way.