fear

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Posted on by Angela Madaha

The Strength Of Safety

I’ve been learning a lot about being safe. Inside safe. Emotionally safe. Only allowing influencers in my life who don’t emotionally use me and take advantage of my weaknesses. Sometimes it may even come down to, “I care about you, but I’m not safe around you. I need to leave.”

I’ve realized how very important it is to set up boundaries, to decide who is allowed to have access to my heart and who isn’t. There’s a sense of purpose and power in that, that I have a say and have control over my spirit.

I have the ability to make decisions about who speaks into my spirit.

Here is the irony though about this kind of safety–

When I am the most emotionally safe, I can walk into the most unsafe circumstances and be secure. and strong. and untouched. Because the circumstances around me don’t affect my sense of security. Even the people around me don’t have power to determine my safety.

I have one heart and one spirit that God has given it to me to steward. In deciding who gets to be close to me, it allows me to grow in love, and thus grow in safety. The more love I have capacity for, the more safe I am. The more safe I am internally, the more I am able to live freely externally without fear. This is because someone’s treatment of me in response to my open life doesn’t determine my sense of security, for good or bad.

Those who are most loved are most safe. They are the ones that help others become safe and loved.

Love and safe

The Dark Side Of Fear

On the flip side, those who are the most in fear are the ones who feel the most unsafe. They are always on the lookout to protect their own safety.

I know this all too well. The amount of fear I battle seems unreal. Many times I’ve been crushed under the weight of feeling unsafe. In those moments I have to step back and consider, “Why am I afraid? What is causing me to be unsafe and feel like I have to protect myself?”

Sometimes it’s been a relationship. It’s someone who I allowed to speak into me who I didn’t have any boundaries with that expressed verbal or emotional misbehavior towards me. In the fear cycle, I often look inward and take the blame, afraid to lose the relationship, and then I become very powerless and try to find a way to protect myself, which normally means trying to control that person or the atmosphere.

Sometimes it’s been in the work place. I’m afraid of someone finding out my mistakes, so I try to hide while I make everything perfect and presentable. Because if someone finds out I don’t have it all together then they will think less of me and I’m not valuable.

Sometimes it’s been in the community. I drive through the “rough” part of town and see lots of homeless people and drug use around. I’m afraid of feeling emotional for these people or getting taken advantage of, so I avoid even eye-contact with them.

Sometimes it’s been a national threat. After 911 my fear was controlled by whether or not there was a mosque in my town or by being in a plane with someone with tanner skin than I.

You see, if I’m afraid of something, I become powerless and lose control over myself, feeling the need to fight for the safety I feel threatened that I may lose. Because I have no internal safety keeping me steady.

The Source Of Security and Insecurity

But where does internal safety come from?

Love.

Where does internal unsafety come from?

Fear.

You know how powerful love is? Those who are the most steeped in love have the ability to live in the most unsafe, hazardous places. Not that they all do, but the power that makes it possible lives within them.

Because those external circumstances have no access to their heart, their source.

So if love rules our souls, if God (who is love inherently) is ruling, and the people we let speak into our souls are also reinforcing that same love, I dare say, what can we not do?

We can be powerful. We can reach further out. We can do seemingly scary things.

Because love leads us, not fear.

Since when were we promised external safety?

Never.

We ought to be the first to love when we have the most to lose. Because we count everything as loss compared to living in love like Christ and knowing him.

Love

It’s hard, because usually we’re afraid of what we don’t understand. Like those of a different religion. Or those of a different sexual lifestyle. Or those of different economic circumstances. Or those of a different color. Of those of a different culture.

I’m in the business world. I work with business owners and get to watch their fears play out. Why is it that the owners are typically afraid of the measly lower level employees?

Because when employees make suggestions for change, it means that the owner may lose something. Change isn’t good. When you’re in a place of privilege, change is threatening. Change causes fear, afraid that your position will be removed, that the safety net of money, power, and control will crumble around you.

This is normal for those who have lived in privilege, which, compared to the rest of the world, would be middle class Americans. Change is always threatening when you’re at the top and have nowhere to go but down.

Why is it that the under-privileged are the most open to change? Because they have something to gain from it. Because when you’re at the bottom you have nowhere to go but up.

So what’s the point?

When we look to our circumstances, and laws, and nations, and officials to set our compass for safety, we will always be afraid. Because we’re not ever in complete control of them.

However, when we live in a place of love, there cannot be fear. And we can accept an unsafe world. We can walk into an unsafe atmosphere knowing that we have a power residing within us that cannot be shaken.

So that’s why I ask,

What are we so afraid of?

You know what tempts me to be afraid?

Not Muslims. Not refugees. Not mass shootings. Not pro-abortion laws. Not marriage redefinition laws. Not pimps. Not Ebola.

What I’m afraid of is spending my whole life creating a paper mâché fortress around me so that I can be protected against the external evils of this world, living internally in bondage, chained to my own fear.

I’m afraid of not ever loving.

I’m afraid of not ever risking.

I’m afraid of not ever once looking like the real Jesus.

Lord, this Christmas give me the heart that would have been one of the shepherds that received you into this world. You were not just not from this country; you were not even from this world. 

Why in the world would I jubilantly sing about accepting a helpless baby in a manger with one hand raised, while pushing away a vulnerable refugee with the other hand?

Maybe we haven’t really received the vulnerable child in the manger yet? Maybe we only want the Jesus who reigns in power and judgment over the evil in this world and not the Jesus who was a meek, helpless baby?

Would we be the Herods of this generation that destroy all that threaten our outward sense of safety, position and control?

Or would we be the ones that welcome, yet even prize, the weak and vulnerable? and accept even the miraculous— because, seriously, a virgin having a baby is seriously threatening to my religious sense of right, wrong and possible.

Jesus went through the whole process. He came from a different culture, he was a newborn exposed to animal mess in a barn, he with his parents were vulnerable refugees, he was a child, a student, an apprentice, a laborer, a leader, a sufferer, a convicted criminal, a dead man, a resurrected King.

He can relate with he most powerless and with the most powerful in this world.

He is our only model. His humility is the only way for us to live. His safety is our only confidence. His love is the only thing that empowers us to love.

And his truth trumps every other opinion.

Let’s not react in fear. Let’s not be like Peter. When he saw that Jesus was threatened in the garden (and actually, Jesus was going to be killed. Seriously. He ended up dying), Peter took out his sword and tried to kill the threat. If we Christians were Peter, we probably would have pull out our concealed weapon and defended Jesus, killing as many threats around us as possible. Because this life is all about being safe and saving our lives, right?

Jesus would be like, “What in the world do you think you’re doing? If you live by killing threats, you’ll die in the same way. If you want to gain your life, you’re going to have to lose it. Hey hey hey, Peter, you realize I’m here? You’re safe. You don’t need to be afraid and react. Stop trying to save me. You need to let me go die. Oh, and just as a heads up, one day when you are most loving me and most safe in my will, you’re going to die by crucifixion.”

This totally blows my mind. The Gospel life is so full of paradoxes that it can only be believed by faith. It’s not natural. But in the kingdom, it’s totally normal.

Is our safety determined by our circumstances? Or is our safety from within, untouched, strong and unmovable?

Maybe we can be the ones who set the standard of love, who live in soul-safety, and who walk into unsafe places and welcome the unsafe ones, loving them into the kingdom.

Honest Confessions About Being Poor

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Let’s have a chat, middle-class America.

Being poor is rough. Wondering how you’re going to pay the bills is the least-fun experience ever. Going through a season of uncertainty is tiring with all the anxiety and stress that wages war on your mind.

But you know what we hate more than being broke?

Being needy.

It’s okay to sometimes admit being “middle-class” and not being able to afford “luxuries.”

But being needy? Asking for help? Receiving help?

That’s out of the question.

Because then I’d have to admit I’m not self-sufficient. Run the risk of being thought of as a failure, that maybe I’m a fully-functioning adult who can’t even afford to pay the bills, much less go out and spend time with friends and community.

So what do we do? We don’t ask for help. Yet at the same time we don’t ever say “no.”

How does this pan out in our lives? Here’s where I think this death-trap leads:

Credit cardWe find another un-related party to pay for us. 

Why are credit cards and loans and payment plans so attractive? We are able to receive help from someone who doesn’t know us and is completely removed from our lives. We’re able to keep up the appearance and expectation of the life we want to live in front of the people we want to be respected by.

Virtual financial help gives us a false sense of security. I’ve never heard a person stand up in a community gathering or Wednesday night prayer service and vulnerably say, “I don’t know if I can afford gas to make it until my next paycheck.” But that same person might go to a gas company and apply for a rewards credit card.

Better than admit I can’t make it on my own.

When we find our own “resources” instead of helping each other, then we become too good to receive help and further ingrain this shame culture, that somehow I’m not valuable if I can’t live the life I think I’m supposed to live.

And feeling shamed leads to the next point:

We isolate ourselves from others.

If I can’t keep up, if I can’t afford to eat at the places everyone else eats at, if I can’t have a home that I expect to have in order to invite people over, then I might as well not spend time with people at all.

I know. I’m with you. I get it, people.

This has been hands-down the most difficult year in my life. Financially, it’s seemed near crushing at times. And I’m like, “Geez, when will this ever end?!”

And in those dark hours I had to face my fears.

“Face your fears” is such a cliche phrase and I’ve wondered if it actually meant anything.

Now I know it means that these fears lurk in the deep recesses of your heart, and you kinda know they’re there, but you work hard to keep ahead so that you never have to face them and admit you have weaknesses.

Until everything is taken away.

And then you realize that stripped down you are a whole lot more unstable than you ever thought.

When everything was gone, when last summer I lost all my work and a job offer in a single moment, I was frightened beyond anything I could imagine.

In that moment and the days to follow, I made the difficult decision to work through it instead of finding a quick healing balm to surpress the pain. Credit cards and bank loans are easy compared to reading your own Fear statement.

Now before you think about how epically brave this was, keep reading.

Though I found I was fine with not having much, I quickly discovered another issue.

The Real Fear.

Here it is.

I didn’t want to be needy.

I was fine with living simply. I just didn’t want to lose control.

And now the control was gone. I couldn’t hide any longer. And even if I tried, it wouldn’t have worked very long because the situation didn’t really change and hasn’t really yet.

So here I am, thinking now that maybe I’m supposed to learn something from this instead of just fixing the problem. Maybe I’m supposed to change. Maybe these things make you stronger because you have to accept your weaknesses in order to be stronger. Weird how that work, huh?

So thus the epiphany moment. And as I’ve been thinking big picture about this now, here’s some positive things I’ve learned this year about being broke.

Your pride barrier is lowered, thus you become more humble.

There’s nothing more humbling than being broke, because then you realize that maybe my world doesn’t revolve around me and my bank account. Maybe I’m not defined by my income.

When you become more humble, you are more relatable and empathetic. 

Humility pushes you to see the world through other people’s eyes. If you can do that, if you become a truly empathetic individual, then you have huge capacity to relate in relationships, which makes you a better person and contributor to your community.

When you don’t have much, you are free, thus you have power. 

When we give our lives over to “getting,” getting a car, getting more furniture, getting a bigger house, getting a bigger paycheck, then you also get slavery. It’s sad to see so many people that are owned by possessions.

When you don’t have much? Then you’re free. Free to give the power to things that last for a lifetime and eternity.

If you owe, you don’t have power. Someone else does. 

The moment you let someone else pay for you, you have removed power from yourself and given it to another. Isn’t crazy how we choose to give power to credit companies who could care less about us? If you must borrow, then at least borrow from someone who cares about you.

Having little is the garden that creativity and innovation grows in. 

Have you seen someone with loads of money and options? They typically aren’t very creative. Other people think for them because they don’t have to think. They have money now.

Sometimes we exchange power in thought for power in money. That’s a dire mistake.

Being poor is a mindset. 

You can choose to focus all your attention inwardly and be consumed with your lack of resources and how that affects your life.

OR you can choose to accept where your current situation, and then focus your attention outward to the opportunity you have through your current situation.

I may have next to nothing, but I am wealthy in every way. Because I’ve learned to measure wealth in character, in love, in relationships.

Never let anyone tell you you’re less than your wealth in character, love and relationships, that somehow you are defined by your money, possessions, lifestyle, restaurant choice, education, or job.

Because they are the poor ones. And they will never know the riches that are experienced in the things in life that don’t have price tags on it.

I get it. I finally get it.

Posted on by Angela Madaha

I get it. November 18, 2011

That was the title to the blog post I wrote exactly 1 year ago. God had just given me a really clear revelation about purpose, specifically about my purpose here in Greenville.

However, the blog post mysteriously never got posted.

wh-what happened?! Did I have a ditz moment and simply forget to press the Publish button?

eh, no. No, actually I had a lot of fear. I was afraid that God really was doing what I thought He was doing, that he had answered my prayers and revealed my direction.

I wasn’t ready to commit to Greenville. My heart was not prepared to truly say, “This is my city and these are my people.” I thought the Kingdom was really happening somewhere else, and to publish this post would’ve held me accountable to other people. as if God didn’t already know. I was arrogant, prideful, and fearful. So typical. It’s as if I look for God, ask God for God, yet when he shows up, I take what I want and brush the rest aside. Um, why does he want me again? He’s pretty good and gracious. that’s why.

It wasn’t until August 25 this year that I heard God speak to me again about Greenville, my city. But that’s a story for another time.

So this was one of those “I get it!” moments that in all reality took a lot longer to “get” than it should have. but whatever.

*****

Illumination happened today. It was a time where in a single moment the oddly shaped erratic puzzle pieces of one’s life come together in this beautiful, sensible design.

The 5 months between graduation and moving to Greenville to start a new job were probably the most seemingly unstable days of my life, bar nun: 14 homes, 9 churches, 4 countries, 6 cultures, 15 beds, 7 ministry offers, thousands of dollars. In the end, I was still broke, jobless, homeless, and directionless, without a clue of where in the world I was supposed to be. That, unfortunately, was not part of the plan.

I couldn’t muster up in my mind what would practically be my next steps in life. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was happening. Even in my desires. And it was frustrating because I know I am to live my life on purpose. Vita by Design, right? I honestly felt at one point that the fact that I had a blog with this title was a joke. Nothing seemed purposeful. I didn’t know what to do, so…do I just not move?

Well, I did a whole bunch of not moving for what seemed like an unbearable amount of time.

One September Monday evening, while in Fort Wayne Indiana, out of nowhere a thought jumped into my mind: I need to go back to Greenville.

Interesting. So this new thought spurred me to email Dan, my friend and former shepherding group leader, if he knew of anyone in town that may be hiring since I was thinking about moving back to Greenville, though I really didn’t know why. It was just an inclination (hint hint…HOLY SPIRIT!).

The next day, Tuesday, Dan “happened” to be meeting with the owner of the only company that I had interviewed with in downtown Greenville back before graduation. So Wednesday morning Dan called me to tell me that the owner said that he needed to hire someone soon—come to find out, very soon. I called the owner that hour and talked the situation over. By 4:00 I had accepted the job and was due to start work on Monday morning. 5 days later.

I probably don’t need to express this, but I was obviously rejoicing over this ridiculously quick job provision. How amazing, right? Isn’t that a cool story?

God had bigger plans.

God does not move people to jobs. He moves them to strategic Kingdom opportunites. Jobs are just so this-world.

Though it’s a company with a fantastic reputation in the Upstate, the location is probably one of the worst in Greenville. It is sketchy with an extra healthy dose of sketch.

The first day of work my boss took me to lunch and mentioned as we drove out of the parking lot, “Don’t walk around over here. This is a crack corner.” And where there’s drugs, there’s violence. Not gonna lie—I was often frightened. My elder at church, who is a cop, had many stories to share about that corner. Chases, busts—one time he caught this guy from America’s Most Wanted on our corner.

This week 2 guys were standing right outside our front steps doing a drug deal.  In broad daylight. Twice in the past month there were huge fires right across the street behind our building that were started by the homeless. I heard gun shots one morning recently.

I wouldn’t normally tell people all this. But I just wanted to let you know that I had a pretty scary view of the area and tried to be as risk-free as possible.

Yet every day I drove by these people I saw their broken lives and remembered the women I lived with this summer in Betel. That was the potential for these lives too. Yet who am I?

I’ve been reading and dissecting the Beautitudes and just read “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” I had to really talk with God about this because I desire to show mercy to these people, which involves building relationships. Yet at the same time I understand the implications, and for a single girl to make any relational advances in a predominantly male culture is obviously scary. I needed help and direction.

The very next day on the way to work the main road was blocked so I had to take my own detour to get to work. Divine intervention? I drove through side streets near my work and saw what I’d never seen before in this town. This exists in Greenville? Broken homes, broken lives. Wow. But, where did I fit in with this?

I went to a party last night and afterwards there was tons of extra food. I saw the huge plate of croissant sandwiches and the thought came that maybe I could take them to the homeless nearby. I texted a friend that does outreach on this side of town to see if she would take me during our lunch hour.

She came by the office the next day and we got in my car. We turned left out of the parking lot and had barely passed our building when she said to turn left down a gravel road. Wait, this close? It’s basically right behind our building.
We parked and walked underneath the bridge. There was a fire pit where three people were standing around stoking the fire. Two people drove in behind us on a moped. To the left there were several tents all along the ground, and at the top the embankment was a row of tents with slits in the sides to come in and out. A single picnic table was in front of us, which is where we set the food. We talked with the few people there.


I knew.

I knew in that moment why I was brought to this job and back to Greenville. Since last January God had been tearing my heart up over the ones that his heart breaks over. For the broken people. He led me to Betel. An amazing, unique experience. I knew my life was forever changed, yet I had no idea how it would practically play out in my life. I felt this urgency that I would have to come up with something—he gave me the desire, shouldn’t I move forward with it?

He did it. All without my help, my ideas, my suggestions. Within walking distance of where I spend 1/3 of every 24 hour day, I have strategic connection with the broken outcasts of society. Today’s mission. I had prayed for ability to show mercy ministry— and He answered.

Before I asked, before I even knew to ask, he was preparing me.