I bought the "One Year Bible" several years ago with the intention of, you know, reading it in one year. Unfortunately, I didn't achieve my goal. From the first verse I started counting how many times the Bible tells us not to be afraid. The number reached well into the hundreds before I was even halfway through. Every time an angel appeared with a message for someone, the angel's first words were always "fear not." Understandably! If an angelic being suddenly appeared in front of me, I doubt a "fear not" would be enough to stop the screaming. God knew what scaredy-cats we were going to be and how fear would be used to immobilize us and make us buy all sorts of things we don't need.

About 25 or 30 years ago I was walking through the "aisles of beauty" at Hudson's. The Estee Lauder counter had some kind of machine that you could look into to that supposedly gave you an idea of what you'd look like in 25 years. I couldn't resist looking into it and was justifiably horrified at the image looking back at me. Though it was frightening, it didn't scare me enough to stay out of the sun (or buy the age protecting product they were hawking). Consequently the multi-spotted image I saw that day is pretty much what I see in the mirror today.

One of the reasons I chose not to stay out of the sun was because I felt it was too late, the damage had been done. Sunscreen was unheard of when I was little. We belonged to a swim club and it was not unusual for us to be dropped off for the day. Our summers involved multiple peelings, even contests to see who could peel off the biggest piece. I remember one day we were dropped off because my mom and aunt were going to be canning all day. It didn't look like the greatest day to spend at the pool, but Mom assured us it was supposed to clear up. It didn't clear up, the sky turned green, the wind whipped up and tornado sirens started going off, yet still... no one came to get us. The lifeguards were less than enthused that they were forced to stay with us. My older brother was particularly annoyed, commenting that "you'd think reports of tornadoes touching down might clue Mom in to the fact that we're no longer having a good time here."

The tornado warnings weren't what scared me the most. What I feared the most was the PRESSURE COOKER! The dreaded pressure cooker that was only brought out for canning. I didn't even know what a pressure cooker was (I still don't), but my mom put the fear of God in us about that thing. It was so dangerous it was really best if we weren't even in the house when they used it. The slightest misstep could blow us all to kingdom come! I was terrified that the thing had finally blown and we wouldn't be picked up at all. I was never so relieved to see our old station wagon fish-tailing around the corner, with my mom screaming at us to hop in as quickly as possible.

There are literally hundreds of phobias. I used to question the very faith of those that are afraid of flying. To be fair, most would say it's not the flying they are afraid of but rather...the crashing. Don't these people realize that they are not in control? That when it's their time it really doesn't matter where they are, or how they chose to get there? Thinking about my own irrational fears has humbled me and made me realize that all of our fears involve some degree of faithlessness. In spite of all God's assurances, we still needlessly worry and fret about things we have zero control over. How freeing it would be to take God at His word and "not worry about tomorrow" (Matt. 6: 34), trusting that our days truly are "in His hands" (Psalm 31:15).