I think other blog posts have well-established that fear and I have a history. Beyond that, it seems to be a familial trait.

As a child/teen, I watched two women in my life shrink as fear beset them. When I was pretty young, my grandma was mugged on her way to the grocery store. That interruption in the predictability and perceived safety of life ate away at her from that day forward. I watched the woman who once used to sing constantly gradually shrink in personality. When she passed away, I vowed I would make a point of doing something that frightened me every year. I was fourteen.

Also, my aunt, who was likely abused by her husband, had difficulty taking any action and her world was small and became smaller, even after her divorce. Though a young teen, I could see that hurt and pain began the fear in both my aunt and my grandma. But giving into it diminished them.  

Mere months after my vow of bravery, I was molested in a museum exhibit. Fortunately, I got away from the guy before it went too far and ran up to a woman and loudly called her grandma and held onto her, chatting about assorted nonsense until the guy left. I would be lying if I said the incident didn’t bother me—it haunted me; but I refused to go back on my decision to fight the fear.

The first fear I set my mind to was becoming an exchange student and flying abroad on my own. That took conquering many little fears along the way because my parents said that I had to earn the money to pay for the trip and that meant hunting for jobs, interviewing, and learning new interaction skills.

The summer I was 16, I conquered that first fear. Along with many assorted ones that cropped up during the trip. But I did it and I survived. Sometimes, I even had fun doing it.

Over the years, the vow to choose bravery has encouraged me to do many things, mostly good, that I wouldn’t have done otherwise. At 17, I read one of my poems on stage before hundreds of other teens.

At 21, and the week of my wedding, I learned to drive stick shift. Over the years, the decision for bravery has had me drive and fly across the country on my own, ride a zipline, join the military, step out on a clear platform from a skyscraper, test for my black belt, get crowns put in (without Novocain because I react to it), submit my work to contests and publishers, drive on the Autobahn, fall backwards (expecting to be caught) off a rope course, and many other fear-conquering steps both big and small.

Fear is still my nemesis, especially in the middle of the night. But especially since 23, when I devoted my life to Jesus, I’ve had an advocate in my corner reminding me that He is the antidote to fear and that He wants me to be brave. When brave, I make Him look more attractive to others that struggle against the powers and principalities that want to keep us bound in chains of dread.

I’m closing with a poem that I wrote a couple decades ago to motivate myself to continue to choose bravery—especially when I’m feeling anything but.

Will you join me on this path?

Leaving the Known

Not exactly happy.

Oh, the possibility is there,

but the now

is filled with

intimidation

fear

nervousness

and things indescribable.

A sort of angst.

I am not God.

I cannot predict what will happen

When I take that one,

Stubborn step

Into the unknown.