Beauty on the Backroads

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A trustworthy guide through the land of fear: Review of How Not to Be Afraid by Gareth Higgins

I’m not the sort of person who likes to be told what to do. You can make suggestions. You can invite. You can demonstrate a better way. But if you flat out tell me to do something or not to do it, part of me rebels.

So, a book titled “How Not to Be Afraid: Seven Ways to Live When Everything Seems Terrifying” could have potentially sent me running in the other direction. Except that for the last year, I’ve felt a lot of fear. And anxiety. You know, the fun stuff that makes me never want to leave the house ever again. The only reason I trusted that what was in this book would be good medicine is because of the author. I’ve been a subscriber to Gareth Higgins’ email newsletters for quite some time, and I know that he knows of what he speaks. See, Higgins was born during a time when northern Ireland was a violent, conflict-filled place. He knows what it is to be afraid to live your normal everyday life.

And what I found was not a bunch of rah-rah conquer-your-fears hoohah. Instead, Higgins makes a gentle invitation that we can transform our fears by telling a better story.

Higgins weaves his personal stories of fears with practices anyone can do to start transforming their fears. And he addresses seven specific fears that humans struggle with (most of us can probably pick at least one that haunts us): fear of being alone; fear of having done something that can’t be fixed; fear of a meaningless life; fear of not having enough; fear that you’ll be broken forever; fear of the world; fear of death.

He says, “This book is called How Not to Be Afraid, but it’s not about eliminating fear. It’s about learning to feel fear without being driven by it. It’s about knowing the difference between healthy fear and paranoia. It’s about becoming tender enough with ourselves and connecting enough with our true selves to find the gift underneath the fear.”

I feel so hopeful after reading this book. That doesn’t mean all of my fears are diminished or eliminated. But I have some tools to help me lean into the fear without being paralyzed by it.

You can learn more about the book here where you can download a sample chapter and watch a video about the book. I hope you’ll consider it. If ever there was a book we needed for the times we’re living in, it’s this one.

Disclosure: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher as part of the book’s launch team. Review reflects my honest opinion.

It’s OK to not be OK

I don’t know about you but my anxiety is peaking right now. I took half a Xanax yesterday morning for the first time in months because I could feel the pressure building in my chest. It sits there like a heavy weight I can’t shake off and when it doesn’t go away after 30-45 minutes, I start to wonder if it’s going to plague me all day. Some days I sense that I’ll get past it without medication. That if I just get moving with my day, it’ll go away. Other days, I sense that it’s going to be a rough day without it. Yesterday, it was the latter feeling that won.

Yes, I am worried about coronavirus, specifically COVID-19 and its rapid spread across the globe. I don’t want to lose you here because I know there are a lot of BIG FEELINGS about what’s happening right now. My 10-year-old son is borderline depressed because all the watchable sports are cancelled, and my husband is looking for a new hobby (because, sports). Last night, I countered my anxiety by watching Bob Ross episodes on Netflix and trying to write my way out of these feelings instead of eating my way through them. Our daughter seems to be handling this the best so far, but she’s 12 now, and I expect the emotions are brimming at the surface. (Her field trip for today was cancelled due to COVID-19 and a statewide halt on large group gatherings, so we’ll see how she takes the news.)

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

If I’m honest, it’s not the virus itself that worries me, although I do fear for family and friends who would be at risk of serious illness or death if they contracted it. I spoke with my grandmother last night who volunteers at a hospital and she has already been instructed not to keep doing that if a confirmed case appears there. What worries me more is all the disruption to my normal way of life. I know this is a very privileged thing to say, and I almost hate that it’s the thing that’s causing me anxiety. But it is. Here is a list of my worries, however small they may seem to you:

  • I worry that the schools will close and I won’t work and/or get paid for an extended amount of time.
  • Related, I worry that we will have bills that go unpaid because we have no plan B/backup/rainy day fund for emergencies.
  • I worry that we won’t be able to find the things we need because others have hoarded them.
  • I worry that people I care about will be sick and I won’t be able to visit them.
  • I’m afraid that human kindness will not be what prevails in this time of crisis.
  • I worry that plans we have for the summer will be canceled or altered.
  • I worry about being a carrier of the virus and unaware of the symptoms and/or unable to get testing/care.
  • I worry that my fears won’t be taken seriously.

—

At church on Sunday, we sang hymns a cappella, a practice I’m usually excited about, but the second hymn we sang left me mute because I couldn’t sing the words. I didn’t believe they were true.

Not a shadow can rise,
Not a cloud in the skies,
But His smile quickly drives it away;
Not a doubt or a fear,
Not a sigh or a tear,
Can abide while we trust and obey.

It’s the last half of that verse from “Trust and Obey” that had me almost shaking my head right there in the middle of the singing. Did the hymn writer really believe that if we trusted and obeyed God we would haven’t any doubts, fears, sighs or tears? Maybe. But I sure don’t. It almost made me mad because I know there were people in church on Sunday, myself included, who had one or more of those things–doubts, fears, sighs, tears–and still felt they were trusting God.

Jesus wept with the grieving, even when he knew resurrection was coming. He showed mercy to those who doubted, abiding with them in their questions. I don’t believe that faith and doubt are mutually exclusive. I don’t believe that trust and obedience drive out all doubts, fears, sighs and tears. I believe we can both believe and doubt; cry and trust; fear and obey.

So, I want to say this to you because I need to say it to myself: It’s okay to not be okay right now. You can still have a strong belief in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit and be afraid of the times we are living in. You can be anxious and still trust Him.

—

I wasn’t sure I needed to put this in writing, but my anxiety was amplified after a trip to the salon yesterday. My daughter and I were both way overdue for haircuts, and it worked out that we got an appointment on her birthday. While she was getting her new ‘do, I was listening to the conversations. Of course people were talking about coronavirus. A man was scrolling his Facebook newsfeed and suddenly invoked Psalm 91 from the Bible, or what he thought was Psalm 91. “No plague on this house!” he declared, pointing to the door of the salon. Honestly, it sounded more like something you’d hear in a Shakespearean play than in church. I’m not sure what reactions my face betrayed at this spectacle. To be sure he had the right words, this man asked his phone to read him Psalm 91. He seemed to believe the act of speaking these ancient words would somehow keep him and this place safe from the coronavirus.

This is some of what the psalm says:

Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.

I have no problem with someone taking comfort from these words, but I wonder if they truly believe that God will spare some people over others because of their faith in Him. If someone is afraid of “the plague that destroys at midday” does that mean they haven’t take refuge in God? If they are struck by a deadly pestilence, does that mean they are unbelieving?

And if merely speaking words made something true, would we not all go around declaring health and well-being for ourselves and our friends and family? The Bible is not a spell book and its verses are not incantations. I know that sounds sacrilegious but I don’t think that’s what the Bible is for. Maybe I’m wrong, but this man’s actions brought to mind the hymn we’d sung, and I can’t help but think that these sorts of things are what discourage people rather than encourage them.

There are other passages of the Bible that talk about the rain falling on the righteous and unrighteous in equal measure. I do not believe the God who sent Jesus into the world with a message of love, mercy and grace sends diseases into that same world to wipe out the wicked. Maybe that’s not what we’re saying either when we sing that song or speak Bible verses over a place of business or residence, but I know what can happen to a person’s faith when they believe they’ve done and said all the right things and personal disaster still strikes.

We have enough to worry about right now, so if you’re a person of faith struggling with the messages you’re hearing/reading/seeing about the virus these days, I want to say again what I said earlier: It’s okay to not be okay right now. You can still have a strong belief in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit and be afraid of the times we are living in. You can be anxious and still trust Him.

Also, if you or someone you love contracts the virus, it’s not because God is punishing you. (Sometimes I wonder why we have to say these things, but I know that’s what I thought for a long time: I screwed up. I didn’t do enough for Him. So, He’s mad at me. Toss those thoughts right out of your mind. They’re not true.)

—

I don’t want to live my life in fear. Sometimes I feel like my opposite response to that is to stick my head in the sand and pretend nothing’s wrong. If I can’t see the news about the coronavirus, it doesn’t exist! 

Photo by M.T ElGassier on Unsplash

It is okay to withdraw for a while, and it is okay to have fears and worries. What I’m striving for is a middle ground–to live in such a way that I am informed and cautious, caring about the health and vitality of those around me while not being so afraid of what’s to come that I’m hoarding supplies like the zombie apocalypse is upon us. I’m washing my hands and trying not to touch my face with my hands, but I’m also in a school every day with kids I care about whose needs are often greater than I can meet. I don’t always get to wash my hands as often as I want to. And even when I tell myself not to pick up their pencils or go through their binders, I do it anyway because it’s part of my job. (A job that doesn’t have paid sick time, I should add.)

If I end up not working, I will trust even as I fear. If I end up sick, I will trust even as I fear. When I doubt and cry and sigh, I will not believe that I have been abandoned. I will trust that God draws near in those times.

—

Photo by Finn on Unsplash

How are you today? If you’re not okay, it’s okay. 

How can I help? What words of comfort, assurance or commiseration do you need to hear? I’m here for you.