"fear is a liar..."

"When he told you - you’re not worthy,
when he told you - you’re not loved,
when he told you - you’re not beautiful,
that you’ll never be enough;

Fear - is a liar..."

I had never heard of Zach Williams. But after watching the "Fear is a Liar," video -- his music ministry in now on my playlist.

I love the message of this song. It resonates with everything that I have come to trust. Fear is not a condition. It is a simply a proposal, a suggestion, an invitation, a lie. And it is never in you -- or me.

In First John, Chapter 4 we read:

"There is no fear in Love."

But this isn't what we are led to believe.  It is the opposite of the narrative we are sold continuously.  For example, I remember, as a young mother, feeling vulnerable because I loved my daughter so much. I interpreted the fierce feelings I experienced - every time she was out of my sight - as "fear." I thought that I was afraid, because I loved her so much.

One morning, when she was getting ready for preschool, I was almost paralyzed by feelings that I interpreted as fear. I thought that my fear for her safety and well-being, was weakening my ability to pray effectively for her. As she ate her breakfast, I opened my Bible at the kitchen table. It fell open to the above passage from I John. And for the first time it struck me that this was not a suggestion, but a promise.  I only needed to accept it.

I had a choice to make. I either believed that I loved my daughter, or I believed that I was afraid. I couldn't have it both ways. There is no fear in love. So, if I loved her, I was not afraid. Period. Well, there was no question. I absolutely knew that I loved my daughter -- I had not a single shred of doubt about it. So then it followed that I had to absolutely know -- with all my being -- that i was not afraid.

Now that didn't mean that I wasn't experiencing some pretty strong feelings.  I was. But, if those feelings weren't fear, what were they?  I realized that needed to move John's inspired promise, from the inspirational to the practical.

I took the time to be still and ask what those feelings might be - if, in fact, they weren't fear. It came so quickly, that it almost took my breath away. I knew in an instant that those feelings were a fierce love -- ones that made me feel as if I might dissolve. But that dissolution was not a falling apart -- no, it was the falling away of the ego. It was a complete surrender of self-determinism, to the presence and power of God - of Love. It was an on-your-knees submission to grace.

In that moment, fear proved itself to be a liar. It had been insisting that because I was afraid, my daughter was vulnerable. It was saying that because I was afraid, I was a sub-standard mom. It was hissing that because I was feeling afraid, it actually meant something -- and that something, was not good. But I was not afraid, I loved her -- and I loved her fiercely.

Fear is a liar. It terrorizes and bullies. But it cannot carry out even one of its dark threats. All it can do is suggest to us that we fold up our tent and go home. That we turn tail and run. That we curl up in a fetal position and self-sabatogue our relationships, well-being, hopes, and dreams by -- well, by just not showing up.

That's where love comes in and flicks fear away like the gnat of nothingness it is. Love is fierce. A mother doesn't curl in a ball when her child needs her. A teacher doesn't run from someone threatening her classroom full of kindergartners. A father doesn't worry about his own well-being while defending his daughter's honor. Love is not afraid -- ever.

Fear is a liar because it tries to tell us that we are weak, vulnerable, and fragile.  But Love -- fear's opposite -- gives a mother the power to lift a car off her child's foot.  It give a teacher the courage to face down a gunman stalking her classroom.

We all love.  And love is the greatest power in the universe. The tiniest infant loves. The most abused puppy responds to love. The most notorious criminal will give himself up to protect his mother. Love always wins. Fear always lies -- and loses.

In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy, says that the angel Gabriel has:

"the more quiet task of imparting a sense
of the ever-presence of ministering love"

And then, right on the heels of this statement she says:

"The Gabriel of His presence has no contests.

To infinite, ever-present Love, all is Love,
and there is no error, no sin, sickness, nor death."

And therefore, there is not a modicum, a morsel, or a molecule of fear. To infinite, ever-present Love, there is no fear. It is not that Love fights fear and wins. There is simply no fear in Love -- fear has no place in the presence of Love. It cannot exist in the atmosphere of Love, anymore than mold can exist in sunshine, or darkness can live in the light.

Fear is a liar. And when we know this -- we stop letting it push us around. We stand up to its bullying and refuse to surrender to it's ridiculous threats. Because Love is true, and fear is a liar.

offered with Love,

Cate

"there's a reason for the world..."

"there's a reason for the world,
You and I..."

There are days when everywhere I turn there are reports of heartache and hopelessness. As a spiritual healer, that's what I do. I am available to help others find the softest ray of hope in the middle of despair, a glimmer of light in the midst of darkness -- the presence of God, where the evidence seems contrary.

Recently a dear friend asked my a question -- one that I have heard articulated in hundreds of ways over the last three decades, "What is the reason for it all?" The question boils down to this, "If Life is spiritual, and the ultimate reality is not defined by human existence, why are we even here?"

Today, Five for Fightings's "The Riddle," gave me words that I could hang my thoughts upon. Here are the lyrics, if you would like to read them.

Mary Baker Eddy makes this statement in her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"Mortal existence is an enigma.
Every day is a mystery."  

I have read that passage as many times as I have heard the question.  And although I have always felt that there had to be an answer -- to that enigma [riddle], I have only ever glimpsed a fleeting shadow of its truth.  But today, while listening to Five for Fighting's "The Riddle," things started to fall into place for me. And I really mean "for me." I can only speak to what I am feeling about this "riddle" - and only about today's insight.

That said, for me, it is becoming clearer that our human experience is all about relationships. It is not about succeeding at a particular career, interest, or avocation. It is not about accumulating property, money, prestige, or awards. Those are only props and vehicles. I believe that the real "reason for it all" is "you and I."

The houses we dream of building, the cars we think will define us, the competitions we hope to win, the awards we accumulate, the degrees we earn, the weddings we create, the environment we save, the celebrations we host, the money we save -- or spend, the bodies we shape, and clothe, and starve and indulge -- they are not the endgame. They are simply there as props on this stage of human experience. As vehicle to get us to where we will deepen our understanding of what is important. The real goal is to stretch and strengthen our focus on what really counts -- you and I -- and how we love.

Our relationships are the place where love either happens, or is waiting to happen. It is in our relationships that we discover the deepest sense of God as Love. But how often do we let something get in the way of that discovery. 

 We might let a competition convince us that comparing ourselves with others is reasonable - and make us feel we need to distance ourselves from the "other" in order to be competitive. We may turn away from building fellowship, because of a disagreement about policy, procedure, politics, and polarization. We might allow being "right" to trump being kind. Or we let "fear of being thought ridiculous," get in the way of saying what is in our heart.

I see it everyday. Heck, I feel it everyday. I am afraid that someone will not return my affection, so I don't reach out in friendship. I hesitate. I equivocate. I let something petty get in the way of the miracle of an unbroken friendship.

There are a million stories in this naked city of my heart's failure to say, "the heck with being right, understood, or emotionally safe -- I am going to be me, and love, love, love."

I am beginning to feel that the bravest thing we will ever do is love without fear of being rejected. That the only thing that will ever make a real difference in the lives of our children, our friends, our neighbors -- and yes, our "enemies," -- is to love, especially when everything in us feels vulnerable, afraid, and insecure. To love in a way that never leaves anyone feeling alone in this world. When we love, not in spite of how our love might be received, or how we might be treated, or thought of -- but instead of. This is our real reason for existing.

How often do we judge the deserving of others to experience our love. We weigh their words, choices, or actions, and then, we allow that assessment, to determine our own words, choices, and actions. But what if we just loved. Loved because it is who we are -- not because it is what we have decided someone else deserves. We cease to be reactionary -- and become revolutionary.

We stop basing our lives on how someone else's behavior will -  or will not - gives us permission to react. We begin to live with true courage -- to act out from the fullness of that Love which operates unspent within our hearts. 

 The heart is not a measuring stick, or a sorting hat, but a lens through which we see the world as a place where we have a reason for existing -- to love. To love without regard for self. To love without an agenda. To love without reason. To love without condition of reciprocity. To love without judgment of another's deserving -- or our own.

How often have we heard that no one leaves this experience wishing they'd bought another house, or earned more money, or won another competition -- but wishing that they'd spent more time with their loved ones, done more to improve the lives of their neighbors, forgiven a long-held hurt, said what what in their hearts.

I may be wrong. I often am. As I navigate the laboratory of this human experience, I sometimes feel fragile and small. But I am getting better at giving myself permission to be all of those things -- to not get everything just right. To make mistakes. To learn how to do it differently. Because as long as I am learning more about how to love as God loves -- more consistently, more universally, more impartially, more humbly, and fearlessly -- I am living on purpose, and with intention.  When I love freely, I am free.

In her poem titled, "Love," Eddy offers this guidance as we navigate the riddle of human existence:

"for Love alone is Life;
and life most sweet,
as heart to heart
speaks kindly
when we meet and part."  

Yes, I think that this may be the reason for it all -- you and I.

offered with Love,

Kate

postscript: 

I had an insight this morning that took my breath away. I'd been up most of the night thinking about this post. I'd fallen asleep as the sun was coming up. When I woke again an hour later it was with a start. I'd always loved thinking about relationships through the metaphor of the sun and its rays.  

The sun, God, is like the circle I would draw as a child. The rays would branch out from a central circle -- in spokes. I've often thought of how if I were to put my fingers at the farthest ends of two of those rays, they only become closer when those fingers move towards the sun -- God.

But this morning, I realized that when two rays are closest to each other, they are closer to the Sun, God. My goal in life is to draw "nigh unto Him," I do this best when I am closest to you. Just a thought -- offered with Love.