Fear

She was alone.

She didn't know where she was, but Jezebel knew she was alone.

She couldn't see anything. The darkness was everywhere, pressing in on her, stealing the air from around her.

She tried to move. Couldn't.

Then she heard it.

Drip. Drip. Drip, drip, drip.

It was coming.

Drip, drip, drip.

Faster now, becoming a steady stream.

She felt it on her feet, running over her toes.

Water. Cold, dark water.

Koooosssshhhh.

A river now. Pouring down.

It reached her ankles, climbed up her calves. She tried to lift her feet but couldn't. She was stuck!

“Help me!”

Her voice echoed back at her. “Help me. Help me. Help me.”

No came to her rescue.

She was alone.

The water rose to her knees, so cold her muscles cramped in protest. She flailed her arms and lost her balance, almost falling over.

"No!"

The frigid flood reached her thighs. Her legs burned, achingly numb from the cold. She couldn't catch her breath. Every time she tried, the air caught in her lungs.

"Hel . . . Hel. . . Help . . .Me!"

"Help me. Help me. Help me," echoed back.

Her legs disappeared under the ever rising tide, and she was cold. So cold!

It hit her chest, rising faster. Her shoulders went under, and the water kept rising.

It was going to get her.

She raised her chin, trying to keep her mouth and nose above the surface. It was futile. She was going to drown.

Her mouth and ears were covered, but the rush of water stopped.

She could still breath! With her nose just out of the water, she could breathe!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sound was louder under water.

It was still coming. It had slowed, but it was still coming!

Slowly, tortuously it climbed her upper lip, touched the bottom of her nostrils.

She gasped one more time, and water shot up her nose. She held her breath, and the dripping stopped, the tip of her nose just out of the water. She strained to stand taller, to get to the stale air, but couldn't. It was just too deep!

Her lungs burned. Her head started to swim as the darkness came for her.

She . . . couldn't . . . hold . . . her breath.

                                                         * * *

This is an excerpt from my hoping to be published book, The Scroll.  I use it not as a promotion, but as a picture of fear and response to fear.

Some of us, like Jezebel, fear drowning. Others fear snakes, spiders, being alone, being in crowds . . . the list goes on forever. Everyone is afraid of something. All fear is not bad. Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 1:7); that is a good and healthy fear. But sometimes fear can be paralyzing and keep us from stepping out of our comfort zones and doing what we are called to do.

 I think everyone, to one degree or another, has a fear of failing. Some are able to overcome that fear quite easily, while others are so fearful of failure that they can barely function. Most of us fall somewhere in between those two extremes. For myself, I fear failure to the extent that I am willing to try new things, but if I do not have quick success, I am reluctant to continue trying for fear of repeated failures. I'm embarrassed when I perform at less than the goals I have set for myself, because I see that as a failure. And failure is bad, right?

Not always. In fact, as a Physical Therapist, I tell my patients all the time that I am going to challenge them to the point of failing in order to help them to improve. The same is true for anyone who has practiced for just about anything--if you are not challenged to the point of failure, you are unlikely to improve. This is evident in athletics, the performing arts, and every level of learning. Without occasional failure, significant growth and improvement is scarce.

So why then, in life, are we so afraid of failing? When it comes to playing softball, or cycling, I fail at something every time I try; but I do it over and over again. On the other hand, I refuse to play charades because I fear failing and looking like a buffoon. I know I must look as awkward at times standing at home plate as I ever could trying to act out the motions of batting among friends; I am comfortable with the first, but abhor the latter. Why?

Because I fear failing. It took many years after an initial failing to be published before I would try it again. But now I am in the middle of it, and while I have not yet fully succeeded, I have had at least a modicum of success. If I had never tried again, I would have failed forever. That has been a good lesson for me.

Jezebel survives her ordeal--but her fear controls her actions for the rest of her life. She makes many mistakes, and follows many wrong paths because of her fear--among other reasons. If we allow fear to rule our lives, we too will find ourselves on a path other than the one we should be walking. Healthy fear, like that written about by Solomon, can guide our lives to be fruitful. Poisonous fear, however, can ruin everything. And sometimes, it is so hard to know the difference.

So, what do you fear? Is there an area in your life where fear is holding you back from something God wants you to have, or do? Do you have a story of success over fear that allowed God to do something great in your life? If so, share it. 

Maybe you can encourage us all.