Fear and the Coming of Immanuel

Do not be afraid.

As a fearful person, I heard these words over and over throughout my life. And when I did, something usually died inside as though I was alone, living in a different dimension from everyone else. Then came an immediate reaction of frustration with the person commanding me not to be afraid. As though fear was irrational. As though they were in charge of the circumstances and could guarantee no need for fear. I knew things were never what they seemed; I had every right to be afraid. As far as I was concerned, fear was the only thing keeping me safe.

But as I eventually found out, it’s one thing to be in the midst of a legitimately terrifying situation; it’s another to be a fearful person. For those of us who have experienced abuse or trauma, fear often defaults to adrenaline-high reactions to any given situation. As time goes on, fear becomes a paralyzing cage that shuts out comfort from others, pushing away the good with the bad because nothing can be trusted anymore.

In the midst of it all, the words “do not be afraid” become nothing more than background static. That is, until my name is connected to the command. Parents, hospital workers, and policemen know the power of using names to calm the fearful in terrifying situations. Suddenly there is relationship – authority even – and with it, a hopeful willingness to listen even if the circumstances remain unchanged.

It is encouraging that the Bible is filled with examples of men and women who struggled with fear. Often I find myself reflecting upon their lives and realize they were also sinners saved by grace who often needed reminders of “do not be afraid”. With Christmas approaching, it’s interesting to read the story of Jesus’ birth and realize His incarnation is actually centered on the fears of humanity – or rather, its solution.

In the years surrounding Jesus’ birth, the nation Israel was in turmoil. Their land was controlled by enemies, their countrymen scattered across the known world. It had been hundreds of years since God had promised a Deliverer. Only a small remnant waited in faith.

But God had not forgotten His promise. At the opportune time, the wheels were set in motion. Which completely terrified those involved.

In Luke 1:26-38, an angel appeared to a young Jewish woman, a pure virgin looking forward to marrying her fiancé of the coveted family line of David. The young bride-to-be heard the puzzling words, “Do not be afraid, Mary,” before her life turned completely upside-down.

Three months later, a bridegroom lay in bed completely devastated by the news that the godly woman he had prayed for, worked for, waited for was carrying the illegitimate child of someone else. But before he could take action, an angel appeared, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid”, and then commanded him to embark on a terrifying journey of faith. (Matthew 1:19-25)

In Luke 2:8-20, the angel appeared to a group of rough tough temple shepherds who watched their flocks in the fields near Bethlehem. When an angel appeared in the night sky and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, their terror was stilled by the angel’s words, “Do not be afraid.”

Do not be afraid.

The words echo from the pages of the Christmas story giving hope to all who read it. Here were real people in complicated – even terrifying – circumstances struck with fear. Anyone looking on could say they had every right to be afraid. A young woman facing alienation from her family and friends, a ruined reputation. A bridegroom facing the responsibility of doing what’s right. Uneducated shepherds with the message of angels. But God enters their circumstances and commands, “Do not be afraid” before delivering a replacement of hope.

To Mary, “[Jesus] will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.” (Luke 1:32)

To Joseph, “And you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” (Matt. 1:21)

To the shepherds, “There has been born for you a Savior who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11)

Today, fear remains a common malady of mankind. It constricts our vision to what we can see. But God's message of hope is the same as it was thousands of years ago and continues to point to Immanuel. Through Jesus Christ, enslavement to fear is permanently broken so that even in the most terrifying circumstances, we can still say,

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us?

He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?

Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies;

Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us.

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

Just as it is written, ‘For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; we were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’

But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:31-39)

It isn’t about simply believing there’s nothing to be afraid of. There are a million things to be afraid of as Romans 8:31-39 makes very clear. Rather, it’s about placing our fear in the hands of Jesus Christ who has conquered temptation, suffering, hunger, rejection, torture, even death itself. He has conquered all things in order to redeem His beloved people. 

As 1 John 4:18-19 states, There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love. We love, because He first loved us. 

As thousands of fearful people have discovered, in the face of such love there is no longer room for fear. If we have been regenerated through Jesus Christ, not even death itself can separate us from His love. The incarnation of Jesus – Immanuel, “God with us” – is that perfect love, that beautiful solution to every deepest fear.

Further Resources –

For Personal Study: I have found it a great blessing to read through the Bible and meditate on whenever God says, “Do not be afraid” or “Fear not”. Note also the situation surrounding His words and the beautiful way God draws the fearful individual's focus away from the circumstances and onto Himself.

Bigney, Brad, Gospel Treason: Betraying the Gospel with Hidden Idols, P&R Publishing, 2012.

Bloom, Jon, Not By Sight: A Fresh Look at Old Stories of Walking By Faith, Crossway, 2013.

Tozer, A. W., The Attributes of God: A Journey into the Father’s Heart, Christian Publications, Inc., 1997.

Welch, Edward T., Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest, New Growth Press, 2007.

Note: All Scripture referenced from the New American Standard Bible (NASB), unless otherwise noted.

Public Domain Photo Credits:
Mother and Baby - Michelle Daigle

The Masked Betrayal of Time

Things will get better with time. Time heals all wounds. It just takes time. Just give me more time.

The subtle message came loud and clear throughout the years. A default answer to the human question of “How do I respond to painful circumstances outside my control?”  Time, the cure-all, the numbing solution to pain, trauma, and abuse.

And so I waited for the pain to disappear and the shame to dissolve into nothing. But it didn’t.

Maybe I just needed more time. Apparently ten years wasn’t enough. Neither was fifteen. Sixteen, seventeen, then twenty years went by. By then, things had only grown much worse like a ghastly wound hidden and left unattended, a crisis covered up and ignored. Twenty years of desperately trying to run and walk and fly like there was nothing wrong.

And all the while, these broken wings would not – could not – heal.

Over the years, patterns and connections became meaningful. Obedience resulted in love and attention. Disobedience resulted in consequences. Work resulted in income. Driving recklessly resulted in accidents. The beautiful details of creation pointed to a Creator. It was this subconscious “if/then” thought-processing that clued me in to the fact that I was a living contradiction.

The nightmares. My irrational fear of men. The awkwardness and loneliness. My acute awareness of sex even as a young child. The paralyzing fear of strangers. These things didn’t line up with my nearly-perfect childhood. My parents weren’t divorced. We attended church every Sunday rain or shine. I knew all the right answers in Sunday School. My family worked hard and didn’t do drugs or become alcoholics. There was always food on the table.

But compared to my peers, I always seemed to be a step behind. I longed to be normal and laugh without this paranoia of vulnerability. I longed to feel carefree and innocent – traits I seemed to be lacking.

Things will get better with time, they said.

She’ll grow out of it, they said.

But things didn’t get better. I didn’t grow out of it. Instead I waited in silence, ashamed of the broken person I’d become. Somehow the formula of being raised in a Christian home hadn’t been enough. By then, the monster within me had attempted escape a few times, and it was becoming harder and harder to anticipate its moves.  

That’s the unspoken agreement in believing time fixes things, you know. Investing years of life and bucket-loads of energy in maintaining an outward appearance that everything is okay even when it’s not, waiting for time to do its thing so that no one ever will ever discover the broken mess within. If I believed hard enough. If I waited long enough. If I pretended enough.

But it was never enough, and I was exhausted.

By now as a young woman, I saw the truth. Patterns of brokenness were all around me; evidence against the lie that time could cure whatever was wrong with my soul. Diseases destroyed things over time. Vegetables decayed over time. Cliffs eroded over time. Generations grew more corrupt over time. But I knew no other way to cope. I desperately wanted to believe that this wasn’t the end. I didn’t want to believe that I was doomed to brokenness for the rest of my life because of someone else’s selfish sin against me.

Throughout the Bible, God is revealed as a perfect and good Creator as well as the sovereign Ruler over events and circumstances. It was this same goodness and sovereignty that first drew me to Christ through salvation as a teenager. He saw my overwhelming burden of sin, and in His goodness He removed this burden through Jesus Christ. Because of God’s sovereignty over creation, here was Someone constant and unchanging in a world where everything had been flipped upside-down.

But somehow God didn’t factor into my shame. I knew Jesus died to pay for my sins and rose again to give my soul eternal life. But I never heard anything about how Jesus related to shame stemming from the sins of someone else. And because I never heard about it, I thought the Bible didn’t say anything about it. I thought God just didn’t care.

In the midst of hiding and wrestling and running from my past, I was hit blindside by several providential lightning bolts that forced me to face the truth. In the midst of it all, I discovered that God is not dependent on my thinking and choices – or even the choices of others in my life. Despite them, He is sovereignly orchestrating every detail of His children’s lives for their ultimate good and healing. According to Romans 8:28 (NASB), God is working all things together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. (emphasis mine)

It was as though a lightbulb flipped on. I saw the fingerprints of God redeeming every detail of my life by molding and shaping, drawing and breaking. Shame sought to drive me away from the light, but God persistently overpowered it. Even in my darkest moments when I grasped at a handhold, Jesus Christ was holding me fast.

Now on the other side, I confess I am more broken than before. But there is no putrid infection of bitterness and shame like there was before. There is no zombie-like suppression of feeling. The brokenness God is doing in my life is from re-breaking the lame joint so that it can be healed according to the truth. I feel humbled and freed with new emotions, a fullness of joy never known before. Strangely enough, I’m more alive, and it’s all because of Jesus Christ.

As I walk this journey, I’m discovering I’m not alone in the reality of abuse and trauma. There are thousands of men, women, and children broken because of this reality. We have different stories, different situations. But our core brokenness is the same, and the Great Physician is the only One able and willing to heal.

I simply want to share confessions of what Jesus Christ has done for me in the midst of my brokenness.








Note: All Scripture taken from the New American Standard Bible (NASB), unless otherwise noted.

Public Domain Photo Credit: 
Clock Mechanism - David Clark