What’s the Matter? You Chicken? Overcoming Fear

The Problem: Fear

Remember when we were young. (I’ll wait as some of you rewind the ol’ memory banks.) We were fearless. We would take dares and accept challenges to do some really dumb and dangerous stuff, without any thought. That was the problem; we never stopped to think.  If we hesitated, our friends would think we were “chicken.” We would have an imaginary yellow stripe superimposed down our back, a fate worse than death. “What’s the matter, Vitalle, are you too scared?” I can still hear their “fowl” imitations of clucking beneath their breath.

We would goad each other into jumping off, over, or into something that any person with a healthy sense of self-preservation would have run screaming from. Most of our shenanigans only resulted in minor cuts or bruises. There was, however, one trip to the emergency room that was needed to set a compound fracture of the left tibia. The heavy plaster cast went from the top of my hip to the tip of my toes. It was a 30-pound anchor with absolutely no holes for ventilation. I can still recall the stench. It was my autographed companion through a sweltering Michigan summer. But who cares! I wasn’t a chicken!

That was then, and this is now. Let's talk about grown-up fear. You know the cast of characters: Dread, Anxiety, Panic, and their irritable cousin, Worry. We’ve all had them over for a visit, usually unannounced, around 3 AM. They’re the reason we’ve all seen enough infomercials to know way too much about dynamo power cleaning products and handy dandy kitchen gadgets too cheesy to advertise in prime time.

Fear has a nasty habit of paralyzing us. We become so entrenched in a fearful fog that we end up making snap decisions. And what about those choices? They have a nasty habit of boomeranging right back onto us, bringing even more fear and anxiety along with them. It’s like we’re wearing a pair of invisible handcuffs, and half the time, we’re the ones who snapped them on. It’s one of the worst side effects of that ancient and sinister disease: sin.

It starts early. As babies, our world was pretty simple. Life revolved around the Big Three: hungry, thirsty, or ouch. If one of those popped up, our perfectly ordered universe went off the rails. The internal alarm system went off—Waa!—and hopefully, a loving parent would show up to fix things. If they were quick, fear didn't even have time to enter the picture.

But let's be honest, we're all wired for a bit of conflict. We lean into panic. For some of us, it becomes a go-to response. It seems to be in our nature to be a little jumpy. It’s like we’re not comfortable being too comfortable.

Once "fear" crashes the party, it brings along its frenzied friends. Anxiety beats our courage to a pulp. Bravery packs its bags and skips town. Before you know it, fear’s hot-headed buddy, Rage, shows up to the party. That leads to Regret, which leads to Shame, and pretty soon, you're avoiding people altogether and disappearing from public life. And that, my friends, is precisely where the "Father of Lies" wants us: feeling on our own and completely abandoned.

The world certainly presents us with a long menu of potential fears from which to choose: financial troubles, relationship drama, and health scares. And just for good measure, let's throw in climate change, natural disasters, political turmoil (I know, I’ll probably get letters for that one), and then there’s pandemics. Need I go on? We even get creative by justifying our fears, holding onto our dread with a death grip as if we’ve earned the right to be terrified. That’s the natural state of things, I suppose. But that’s not how God designed us to live.

The Promise

So, what do we do about overcoming fear? God’s promise is essentially the universe’s best insurance policy. He guarantees He’s with us. The world is essentially a giant petri dish for fear germs, and it’s impossible not to get some on you. But God gives us His divine assurance: He’s always there. Jesus was, and is, “Emmanuel”—translated literally, "God with us."

Think of it this way: we’ve been given an immunization against the worst consequences of fear. Our vaccine is the presence of Jesus himself. The Creator of the entire cosmos is telling us He’s got our back. He’s saying, "No matter what the world is telling you, don’t listen to it and don’t be troubled. I’ll give you the strength and grace to get through this."

We can’t hide them, folks. God sees our weaknesses, but He’s also provided the cure. During our storms, our true strength lies in Jesus Christ, the one who has already weathered every imaginable storm. “He got up and rebuked the wind and the waves, and it was completely calm.”

So, read that scripture again. Focus on the promise. Make a choice today not to be ruled by the debilitating illness of anxiety. Ask Him for the spiritual grit you need to stay the course, and accept the fact that you’re never, ever alone. We can all be held up by His mighty right hand—the same hand that calms storms, heals our brokenness, and was nailed to a tree to set us free.

The Bible would say, “Do not be afraid.” But my translation is: “Don’t be a chicken.”

Isaiah 41:10

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.