One Way to Be Delivered from Fear is to Walk Through It
There is more than one way to be delivered from fear.
Take for instance, my lifelong fear of being bitten by a dog. It probably began when I was introduced to my grandfather’s German Shepherd, Babe. He was, by all accounts, a gentle and loving dog but I was a toddler, and he was so big. I’m sure I mistook his friendly curiosity for menace and a fear took root.
In our home, fears weren’t dealt with, they were dismissed, mocked, or ignored. “Lori’s afraid of dogs” just became something people said when we visited friends with large pets.
Other adults would try their own well-intentioned fear reduction courses. “He’s more afraid of you than you are of him. Go ahead, just stick your hand right in his mouth. He won’t bite!” or “He’s only barking at you and snarling because he senses your fear. Stop being afraid, you’ll be fine.”
I love dogs and we’ve had several large dogs – all rescues. But, I’ve always been cautious around dogs I don’t know. Caution and care worked out fine for me, until the day it didn’t.
This one dog at this one home was always secured before I even left my car – I made certain of it. He never hid how protective he felt of his home, nor did he hide his perception of me as a threat to it. The family agreed to our plan and always, always secured him the moment I arrived.
No one knows how he got loose during my visit. No one was aware as I left the home, their door
locking behind me, that he waited for me. The instant I saw him, I knew I was about to face my fear in real time.
I turned to try to get back up the three steps. There’s a moment between me turning and me feeling the piercing pain of his teeth in my back that is blacked out. In that moment that I don’t remember, he must have lunged at my back and knocked me to the steps. I didn’t even make it up the first step because I was sprawled across all three as he pinned me down puncturing my back and then tearing my arm upper arm open.
As I screamed for help, I stretched from beneath him and slapped at the door the best I could. Thankfully, the family heard. I was dragged inside to safety, the dog resecured, first aid administered, 911 called.
The entire incident lasted only minutes. Minutes of terror and pain that led to six weeks of stitches, bandages, medications, concussion protocols, complications, abscesses, more medications, healing, setbacks, more healing, paperwork, medical visits, police reports, testimony before a town hearing board, trauma therapy, loss of work, loss of productivity, missed events, sleepless nights, unexpected expenses, and many anxious moments in unfamiliar territory – attack victim.
But, here’s the thing. My fears no longer loom. I’ve survived encountering what I’ve feared since childhood. I did everything I could have done to prevent it and it happened anyway. And, I’ll recover. I’ll be different, but I will be fine.
Soon, I’ll return to my day job. Entering week six, I’m sleeping better. My wounds are on the mend. I’m coming to terms with all that was impacted in the last six weeks – everything I’ve missed, everything I couldn’t do, everything and everyone that was affected. I’m adapting to the new scarred and lumpy terrain of my upper arm and back. My strength is returning. We’ll see how it feels to go back to the job.
(For those concerned about the dog, he is fine. His owner admitted training him to attack. He has not been destroyed but the owner has numerous restrictions that must be followed to prevent another attack as I was the third known victim.)
My roots in God are dug deeper now. My fear of the future is reduced. Because, in the past three years of loss, unexpected shocks, pandemic, political strife, social unrest, and now physical attack, I see that one powerful way to deal with fears is to walk through them with God.
To walk into the fire. To enter Nineveh. To build the wall. To confront the giant. To submit to the cross. To speak the gospel truth to those who want to kill you for saying the name of Jesus. To love others knowing they may cause you harm. To love again after they do.
I feared the pain and terror of a dog attack – but God was there. I am weak, but He is strong.
I feared loss of productivity, sidelined in ministry and writing, dependent on others – but God was there.
When I couldn’t read, write, look at a screen, care for my own wounds, or deal with other people’s emotions – God was there.
And I crawled inside a Bible verse I have never really liked and found, not only solace, but strength, and Christ-centered confidence that has further equipped me for the future.
“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV
Before June 9th, I lived inside my fear of vicious dogs. Today, I live in the strength of knowing God is present even in dog bites, nightmares, incisions, weakness, and emotional wounds. In pandemics, protests, politics, losses, disasters, and conflicts, He is there.
And while I am weak before dog teeth and small in the face of racial discord, political conflict and pandemic death, His power is made perfect in weakness and His grace is sufficient for me, for you, and for all who call in Jesus’ name.
Some of you have walked through your own fears with Jesus, so you know the truth of what I say. It’s never been more important to live outside our fears.
None of us wishes for hardships or trials but when they come, walk through them with Jesus. There is freedom on the other side.
One way to be delivered from fear is to walk through it https://t.co/F54LniN2AA #Jesus #Freedom
— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) July 17, 2021
