Do You Like Scary Movies?

We are victims of our own paranoias. Think about it. The thing that makes your skin crawl, the thing that makes your heart palpitate, the thing that keeps you up at night, or, conversely, wakes you up from a dream so real that you are bathing in a slick of your own sweat...who created these fears? Not I, said the victim. And it can't be God, because no fault can be found in him. So it must be our enemy, the thief of our peace, the anti-comforter: that Devil.

A friend of mine has recently joined me in Korea and, as an only child, fears the prospect of life in a single apartment by herself. Outrageous! said the oldest of two younger brothers. A life spent in an apartment, without friend or sibling or friend in the world, is heaven. A pure and blessed respite from a life spent in constant communication and interaction with other human beings, whether voluntary or otherwise. But my friend's fears should not be minimilized. For her, the fear of an empty apartment, without roommate, is real. The fear is internal, is believed, is BREATHED in, and is invicible to logic. I can attempt to calm her with promises of copious visits, wall hangings, and my own abode as refuge, but the fear remains: I am alone.

" There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..." (1 John 4:18, NIV), or, my personal favourite, "There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling..." (the Message translation). There is no ROOM in love for fear? That means that it is full to capacity. The type of love that Psalm 23:5 talks about, "...my cup runs over..." Superfluous love. Love that is almost unnecessary in its excess. But absolutely necessary in the fact that we, as humans, are riddled with our petty fears.

I have a fear of bats. Why? Because I spent one night, just one night, in a room alone in Panama when I was twelve with a bat who spent the hours between midnight and daybreak making numerous swoops at my face. It was most likely curious. I have a fear of underwater. Why? Because I flipped through a National Geographic magazine when I was young and saw images of glow-in-the-dark sea creatures with underbites that terrified me. Now, I can appreciate that these creatures were created by God, beautiful in their own way, and they glow in the dark, for crying out loud...that's beautiful. I still have a difficult time with the thought of skuba diving. And my friend, my dear friend from Toronto, who can't stand the thought of coming home to a delectable two-room apartment (while the rest of us make do with studios) fears every moment she spends there because she grew up devoid of siblings. She believes in the thought that she is alone. I belive in the thought that bats will swarm me in a darkened cave.

God's love casts out fear and yet, as Christians, "filled" with God's love, hold on to their fears as familiar territory. Even as I write this I realize that I am, once again, stating, in print, that I "have" a fear of bats and a fear of deep sea creatures when really I am only chosing to accept that fear into my life. The fears seem real because we have adopted them. They have been a part of our reality since twelve years of age or since childbirth. God's love should be enough, IS enough, but perhaps we don't access this love.

The Love that speaks simple truths, such as, "You are not alone." and "Bats will not swarm you." is absolutely pivotal to our spiritual walk. To say the words, "I was petrified of _______, but now, because of God's all-consuming love of me, I have been freed of that fear. I live my life devoid of unfounded fears because I feel that God understands my littleness and comforts me enough that I can face life uninhibited by them." makes your testimony real. No one can console you in your most fearful hour, just as no one can argue the fact that you live a live outside of fearful hours entirely.

" You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies." (Psalm 23:5)

A Pale Moon Rises...

Do you ever have a visceral feeling that life is much grander than you can comprehend? It happens to me when I'm listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, or hiking in the woods (which I like to refer to as "walking" as hiking sounds too premeditated), or reading the Bible. I have to stop, lift my head, and breathe it in: life is huge, God is huge, truth is huge...and I'm very puny.

Recently, my future plans were, *ahem*, altered on my behalf by the Almighty. Being an event coordinator, I had coordinated the events leading up to September of next year (yes, that's 2006...I was really prepared) when, suddenly, unexpectedly, almost rudely, the rug was pulled out from under my event coordinating self. Flailing in the refuse of my dreams, I pulled and clawed at many typical paranoias. "Well, what am I supposed to do NOW, huh? Can you answer me that? I have NO plan now. NONE. I could do this... Or I could do that... But what about finances? What about my desire to travel? And then, on the other hand, what about my calling? Where is this GOING, exactly? Are you going to ANSWER me or something?" There was a tear-soaked pillow at one point, and a heavily scrawled journal entry, and a few conversations with friends.

As I floundered for the week or so that it took me to remember that I know how to swim and, to be honest, I haven't had an orthodox path to tread for a while, I tired and gave up. I flipped my pillow over and went to sleep. There isn't anything I can do about a canceled school, or a shift in the wind, or a sneeze. There is only God. There has only ever been God. There only ever will be God. He is Alpha, He is Omega. He created musical geniuses who write orchestral songs for movies about elves, He created Soori Mountain in Pyongchon, He breathed life into the scriptures. He is love. And if He's writing my story, then whom shall I fear?

It just occurred to me that someone that balks at the idea of participating in a premeditated "hike" should probably learn to chill the heck out about coordinating life's events.

"Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see.
All of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my arms,
you’re only sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home."
- Into the West