When Fear Costs a Blessing

The iniquities of the wicked ensnare him, and he is held fast in the cords of his sin. Proverbs 5:22

I don’t like drawing attention to myself.

I know that might sound strange coming from a woman who regularly speaks from a stage, but here’s the truth. I would never have chosen this path for myself. I prefer obscurity.

I’d rather live life far from any public eye, enjoying my family and loving people. But God had other designs for me when I said yes to Jesus’ invitation to “Follow Me.” It’s like one of our pastors proclaimed years ago. “Following Jesus will inevitably lead you to places you’d never choose to go on your own.”

I’m living proof of that. Once I fell in love with Jesus, my desire to follow Him pushed me past some overwhelming fear. I determined that I would trust Him no matter what. So when He began to open doors for me to publicly teach His Word, I stepped through them—fighting through the nausea that told me to run the other way.

And I began to see Jesus work miracles every time I stepped up to a podium. Each time I taught His Word, God responded to my faith by showing up. His presence would push back the feelings fear had brought and overtake me with His peace. Not only that, but the people hearing the Word encountered Him too as He gave them new understanding of His truth. The grace He poured out on me also marked them.

Now Jesus has conquered my fear in that area of ministry. I no longer fear public speaking. His love set me free! But even when we’ve come so far with Him, His mercy will reveal places we have yet to go. And one Sunday morning in the middle of worship, He showed me one of those places.

While we were singing, I felt the Spirit well up inside of me, urging me to walk to the front of the church.

But I didn’t go.

I hesitate even now to share the story. I’ve spent the last 20 years telling God that I’ll go wherever He sends me. And I believed I would. I’ve followed Him to churches, meeting rooms, and retreat centers all over the place. Yet when He sent me that Sunday to the altar in my home church to lift my hands and worship Him in front of the congregation, my feet would not move.

…she is held fast in the cords of her sin. Proverbs 5:22

You see people didn’t typically flood to the altar in my old church. They stayed in their seats. They worshiped in the safety of anonymity. But that day, Jesus asked me to step from the crowd, walk boldly to the front alone, and raise my hands to worship Him.

And I didn’t go.

This prompting had come in answer to my own prayers. Longing to experience more of Him, I’d been asking for bold faith—faith that moves me from my comfort to love the lost. And the podium—which had once been my greatest fear—had become my safe place.

But what of the man sitting next to me on a plane? Or the waitress whose pained look reveals a burden? I find that I struggle to “impose myself” on someone who hasn’t invited me to help them.

But that’s not who Jesus is. He pursues the lost without shame. He extends Himself without invitation. He gives of Himself freely without fear of rejection—a fear I admit I’ve wrestled with most of my life.

And during  morning worship that Sunday, God provided an opportunity to follow Him. The lyrics we sang invited me to proclaim my deliverance. I’m no longer a slave to fear. I am a child of God. As I sang the words, I wanted to run to the front of the church and step into that freedom. But I couldn’t.

Apparently, sometimes I still live like a slave.

I felt my heart beating faster as I hesitated, trying to discern if it was really Him prompting me to go. Then He whispered, “Walk with Me, child.” I knew He wanted me to put one foot in front of the other and walk out my faith to the front of that sanctuary. And I discovered the stronghold keeping me from living my full inheritance.

I still feared how people would judge me. I worried what they might think. How can I follow Him to the lost if I can’t follow Him to the front of the church?

I’m like the woman with the issue of blood who sought Jesus for her healing. She slipped quietly through the crowd to touch the hem of His garment. Immediately, she felt her body heal and retreated into the crowd.

She wanted miracles, but she preferred anonymity. Still, Jesus challenged her to reveal herself.

And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!” But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.” Luke 8:45-46

Jesus’ question intrigues me. He knew exactly who touched Him. Scripture reveals that Jesus knows the thoughts of men. He certainly knew hers. And still, He asked the question.

 And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.” Luke 8:47-48

Beloved, sometimes we can experience miracles but still carry our shame. We prefer not to expose ourselves to people, because the enemy of our souls has convinced us it’s safer in the darkness.

But Jesus dwells in the light, dear one. If we want to shine as light in the world, we’re going to have to trust Him and leave the shadows. Darkness might be comfortable, but it’s bondage.

And Jesus loves us too much to leave us there.

Here’s the truth, dear one. Any place where fear still reigns is a place untouched by the love of God. And here’s what’s even more beautiful. Jesus didn’t condemn me for not walking to the front of the church that day. His prompting simply highlighted a fear in my heart He wanted to heal with His love. He didn’t push me away. He drew me closer.

And His love cannot fail.