FROM TERROR TO FEAR

A few years ago, I was privileged to join my wife in fulfilling one of her childhood dreams—riding a mule down into the Grand Canyon. It was an incredible experience and not something I would have ever chosen or desired to do. I have a reasonable fear of heights, so clinging to the back of a large mule as we wound our way down the narrow ledges and cliff faces of the canyon was both terrifying and amazing. I came to realize that as much as I was afraid of the heights we were traversing, it was precisely these heights and the scale of the canyon that made it such an awe-inspiring place. And obviously, I did survive the experience and even overcame my fear—to some degree. Perhaps this was something like the experience of the disciples amid the sudden calm and quiet of the lake that night. Jesus’ command of the storm would have awakened echoes in their minds of various stories from the Hebrew scriptures, demonstrating God’s power over the natural world. While they were concerned with perishing as the storm raged around them and Jesus slept, it was actually after Jesus’ miraculous intervention that they were described as having fear, asking who Jesus might be, and having that kind of power.

Those two kinds of fear are closely linked, but they are not the same. The fear of the storm is not the same as the fear of the One who silenced the storm.

There is a goodness in the fear that comes with recognizing the power that is used for good, even if our first impulse might be to recoil or try to hide from it.

If we can overcome that fear, even just a little, we experience things that are not otherwise possible. We can be amazed.

And more so when we are with someone we love and the One who loves us.