Facing My Fears
When I was 12, I was a fairly fearful kid. I was scared of a lot of things. I was particularly afraid of the dark and of public speaking. And it was at the age of 12 that I began to conquer my fears, starting with those two. I remember a dark staircase outside the community center my family would go every Chinese New Year. The kids would play ball outside, and whenever our ball went astray and went down that dark staircase, that was the end of our ball-playing, because no one was brave enough to go down that staircase to retrieve the ball. That year, when I was 12, I decided that I had had it with my fear of that staircase and of the dark. When the ball went down that staircase, while my friends were resigning myself to going inside to watch the boring cultural programming, I said boldly, "I'll go get the ball." I walked off toward the staircase, and could feel every eye beating down on my back. I held my breath as I climbed down the staircase. Down, down, down, until I say the ball. I secured it, turned around, walked up the steps, threw it back to my friends, and then exhaled. I thought to myself, "That wasn't so bad." I realized I was conquering my fear of the dark.
Later that year, my junior high had scheduled an assembly for some important visitor. I was one of a handful of students selected to serve on a panel that would make a few remarks on behalf of the school and then take some questions. I think they picked me because my English teacher thought I gave good presentations. They didn't know I gave good presentations because I practiced them to death, so fearful was I of making a mistake in front of others. The thought of speaking in front of the whole school, extemporaneously at that, scared the heck out of me. But I was even more scared of backing out. So there I was, the day of the assembly, sitting up there scared out my wits with the other three or four students, who were also scared out of their wits. But I decided to take a few deep breaths and just sit there in my nervousness. And slowly but surely, my hands start shaking and throat stopped tightening up. And when it came time for me to speak, I spoke slowly and calmly. I realized I was conquering my fear of public speaking.
Why I do share these two stories? Because I fear I haven't been doing a lot of conquering lately. It's not because I don't have any fears, far from it. Actually, what I think is happening is that I'm so afraid of that feeling of fear that I don't get anywhere near it. Metaphorically, I'm nowhere near that dark staircase, nowhere near that junior high school stage, letting someone else go to those places. I should know better. I should know that courage is going to your that place of fear, taking a deep breath, and going boldly forward.
But I'm not 12 anymore. The things I'm afraid of seem bigger and badder. And I am older and more conservative. It is easier, then, to just settle, to not take chances and to take the easy road and to avoid the dark staircases and junior high school stages of life.
Of course, I'm not talking about engaging in reckless or stupid behavior. I'm talking about taking the kinds of risks one ought to take: calculated risks, bold risks, most of all faith risks. I learned well after I was 12 that going to your place of fear and taking a deep breath and going boldly forward isn't just a great way to conquer your fears; it's a great way to build your faith in God and see Him come through on your behalf and on behalf of all His promises to you and to His own reputation and character.
This is what I'm missing by being afraid to be afraid. So I'm writing to spur myself to not settle, to not coast, to not chicken out. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dark staircase and a junior high school stage to find.
Later that year, my junior high had scheduled an assembly for some important visitor. I was one of a handful of students selected to serve on a panel that would make a few remarks on behalf of the school and then take some questions. I think they picked me because my English teacher thought I gave good presentations. They didn't know I gave good presentations because I practiced them to death, so fearful was I of making a mistake in front of others. The thought of speaking in front of the whole school, extemporaneously at that, scared the heck out of me. But I was even more scared of backing out. So there I was, the day of the assembly, sitting up there scared out my wits with the other three or four students, who were also scared out of their wits. But I decided to take a few deep breaths and just sit there in my nervousness. And slowly but surely, my hands start shaking and throat stopped tightening up. And when it came time for me to speak, I spoke slowly and calmly. I realized I was conquering my fear of public speaking.
Why I do share these two stories? Because I fear I haven't been doing a lot of conquering lately. It's not because I don't have any fears, far from it. Actually, what I think is happening is that I'm so afraid of that feeling of fear that I don't get anywhere near it. Metaphorically, I'm nowhere near that dark staircase, nowhere near that junior high school stage, letting someone else go to those places. I should know better. I should know that courage is going to your that place of fear, taking a deep breath, and going boldly forward.
But I'm not 12 anymore. The things I'm afraid of seem bigger and badder. And I am older and more conservative. It is easier, then, to just settle, to not take chances and to take the easy road and to avoid the dark staircases and junior high school stages of life.
Of course, I'm not talking about engaging in reckless or stupid behavior. I'm talking about taking the kinds of risks one ought to take: calculated risks, bold risks, most of all faith risks. I learned well after I was 12 that going to your place of fear and taking a deep breath and going boldly forward isn't just a great way to conquer your fears; it's a great way to build your faith in God and see Him come through on your behalf and on behalf of all His promises to you and to His own reputation and character.
This is what I'm missing by being afraid to be afraid. So I'm writing to spur myself to not settle, to not coast, to not chicken out. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dark staircase and a junior high school stage to find.
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