When I was in the ninth grade, I watched my dad fall off of a horse and land, unconscious and facedown, in the grass. He was fine in the end, but it is one of the only times that I remember my knees actually giving way beneath me. I wrote a whole paper about it that year because, well, this is what I have always done.
I write the words that I cannot speak but also that I cannot silence.
And today I’m working out some things about fear. So bear with me.
Anyway, there was that day in the ninth grade when my dad fell off his horse, and fear literally crippled me. There was also a night during my first week at college when two guys tried (unsuccessfully) to get into my car, and I called home sobbing and scared and homesick. A few years later there was a drug bust at a bar that I was at, and there were guns and yelling, and for a few moments, I didn’t know who was good and who was bad, and someone pushed me out the door, and I ran to the sidewalk on knees that wanted to buckle but did not. I lay awake for a long time that night.
Those were times (and I’m sure there have been others) when I was scared—when my heart pounded loud and hard in my ears, and my body tensed for action. Life hung in limbo, suspended there until the crisis at hand was resolved.
But that’s not really the kind of fear that ultimately cripples. Oh, maybe it drops us to our knees for a moment. But it’s just as likely to propel us to the sidewalk and away from danger or to give us the resolve to slam the door and throw the car into reverse to get away.
Some things are downright scary, and a surge of adrenaline is just what the doctor ordered (maybe, kinda, in a very non-medical way).
The kind of fear that cripples is more insidious than that. It is the what if that wraps itself around today, and squeezes the life right out of you. It grabs hold of the relief that should come, and smothers you with dread instead. Because maybe this time it turned out okay, but what about next time?
What if…
Fear holds a knife to our throat demanding we work out hypothetical and horrendous futures as though they were a present reality.
But God has not given us a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7).
Oh, but sometimes I am so very scared. And not in the fight-or-flight kind of way. In the lingering kind of way. Fear of the debilitating kind.
On Friday night a deputy was murdered at a gas station, and I stayed up half the night waiting for the killer to be caught. Because my brother wears a very similar uniform. He drives a very similar car that also runs on gasoline.
And somewhere, somewhere not that far from me, that brave man’s wife and children and maybe his sister too are missing him.
And what if it was my brother?
And fear would like to keep me here. Because the truth is that it could have been him. But the truth is also that it wasn’t.
The truth is that there is a real family mourning a real man.
The truth is that I got a little obsessed with reading the news. The truth is that I had to stop.
The truth is that I had no words when a friend pointed out the street where it had happened. The truth is that I wanted to ask her to drive past it. The truth is also that I wanted to ask her to run the light and get away from it as quickly as possible.
The truth is that I haven’t said one extra prayer for my brother or his friends or law enforcement officers in general.
Because the truth is that I don’t know what to say.
Our pastor said this morning that God hadn’t turned his back when the officer was shot. And I have to believe that he is right. I have to believe that God was there, that He was watching, that He wasn’t caught unaware. (I don’t believe that God desired it—but that’s another blog entirely.)
And the truth is that I’m not sure what to do with that. I’m not sure what to pray in light of that.
Fear wants to demand that God guarantee that it will never be my brother.
Fear wants to be relieved that it was someone else.
Fear wants to keep my eyes wide open and my mouth squeezed shut.
Fear wants to cripple me.
And then this morning, while I sat on the floor of the church nursery, a policeman came to the door. And he smiled, and he silently surveyed the room. Just like he does every week. Gentle strength. Reassuring power. And I fought back tears.
Fear, at least in me, wants to stand stoic.
And sometimes we just need to let it break us open for a minute, to let the tears fall, to tell God that we don’t understand, to weep for a widow we will never know, to mourn an unfamiliar man in a terribly familiar uniform, to beg God to let us trust Him even when we cannot understand.
To tell Him we are scared.
Fear wants to deny itself, to explain itself, to appear reasonable.
Faith cries out to confess the fear.
And the Father–our Father kneels to comfort.
And this daughter, this child, this sister is grateful.
I don’t know if fear has wrapped its fingers around your neck this weekend. But I know your Father bends to hear, to comfort, to whisper what He alone knows that you need to hear. May we bow to let the fear fall awkward at the feet of a faithful Father. May we stand in faith that may never understand this evil but that still trusts a God who is good.
24 comments
Cathy Zimmermann
August 31, 2015 at 3:57 amCody,I feel the same way you do. You just have a way of putting your thoughts into very eloquent words that I struggle to explain. Your gift from God.
Cathy (your Mom and Laurie’s friend)
Cathy Zimmermann
August 31, 2015 at 3:57 amCody,I feel the same way you do. You just have a way of putting your thoughts into very eloquent words that I struggle to explain. Your gift from God.
Cathy (your Mom and Laurie’s friend)
Julie Hixon
August 31, 2015 at 3:58 pmYou read my heart/mind exactly this morning….bless you…and we keep praying for safety for our loved ones and all law enforcement officers, etc…Dear Lord, please help us stand firm trusting in You… Matthew 24:12 states that in the last days “because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” I think that is saying that our trust in God may be tested because of evil happenings, causing us to fall away from God….we need to be on guard about that…
Julie Hixon
August 31, 2015 at 3:58 pmYou read my heart/mind exactly this morning….bless you…and we keep praying for safety for our loved ones and all law enforcement officers, etc…Dear Lord, please help us stand firm trusting in You… Matthew 24:12 states that in the last days “because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” I think that is saying that our trust in God may be tested because of evil happenings, causing us to fall away from God….we need to be on guard about that…
Ariah
September 1, 2015 at 5:47 amYour Tears are Precious to the Father From this moment on, my supplication that ” H & all law enforcement personnel might be surrounded with favor as a shield “ Psalm 5:12 As well, heartened to read that some sorrows are indeed meant to be moved through; not shaken off Acts 28:5 , not resisted 1 Thess 4:13, not repented of 2 Cor 7:10b, not risen above Psalm 42 ~ but Known Phil 3:10 Psalm 34:18 John 11:35 1 Sam 20:41 Matt 5:4 2 Cor 1:3-5 Psalm 23:4 1 Peter 1:6-7 Blessings
Ariah
September 1, 2015 at 5:47 amYour Tears are Precious to the Father From this moment on, my supplication that ” H & all law enforcement personnel might be surrounded with favor as a shield “ Psalm 5:12 As well, heartened to read that some sorrows are indeed meant to be moved through; not shaken off Acts 28:5 , not resisted 1 Thess 4:13, not repented of 2 Cor 7:10b, not risen above Psalm 42 ~ but Known Phil 3:10 Psalm 34:18 John 11:35 1 Sam 20:41 Matt 5:4 2 Cor 1:3-5 Psalm 23:4 1 Peter 1:6-7 Blessings
Kim Hodde
September 2, 2015 at 4:41 pmCody,
You have a gift and are a blessing to me. Your blog feels like you are talking directly to me. I love reading it. God Bless you.
Kim Hodde
September 2, 2015 at 4:41 pmCody,
You have a gift and are a blessing to me. Your blog feels like you are talking directly to me. I love reading it. God Bless you.
Anonymous
September 2, 2015 at 5:32 pmIncredibly raw, but beautiful post. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9
Anonymous
September 2, 2015 at 5:32 pmIncredibly raw, but beautiful post. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9
Josh M
October 2, 2015 at 3:02 pmWonderfully sweet words! Perfectly timed for me to read!
Josh M
October 2, 2015 at 3:02 pmWonderfully sweet words! Perfectly timed for me to read!
2015: How It Helps to Look Back - Cody Andras
December 31, 2015 at 4:53 am[…] Sometimes we’re just scared. And fear wants us to stand stoic, to deny it, to ignore it, to stare down danger in the name of boldness. But faith? Faith kneels and confesses the fear to a Father who kneels to comfort. […]
2015: How It Helps to Look Back - Cody Andras
December 31, 2015 at 4:53 am[…] Sometimes we’re just scared. And fear wants us to stand stoic, to deny it, to ignore it, to stare down danger in the name of boldness. But faith? Faith kneels and confesses the fear to a Father who kneels to comfort. […]
Dina Ormiston
June 13, 2016 at 4:55 pmBeautiful post! I love that picture of Hunter.
Cody Andras
June 15, 2016 at 3:19 amI love that picture too, Dina!
Dina Ormiston
June 13, 2016 at 4:55 pmBeautiful post! I love that picture of Hunter.
Cody Andras
June 15, 2016 at 3:19 amI love that picture too, Dina!
Micah
June 14, 2016 at 3:57 amThanks for blogging Cody. You are extremely gifted. I am in tears as I cry out asking the Lord to give me grace to trust Him more. Love you girl!
Cody Andras
June 15, 2016 at 3:20 amLove you too, Micah!
Micah
June 14, 2016 at 3:57 amThanks for blogging Cody. You are extremely gifted. I am in tears as I cry out asking the Lord to give me grace to trust Him more. Love you girl!
Cody Andras
June 15, 2016 at 3:20 amLove you too, Micah!
When God asks "Where are you?" - Cody Andras
July 18, 2016 at 10:58 pm[…] where we have retreated. We can heal and hope again. We can find the voice we thought we’d lost. We can tell Him that we’re scared, that the world has left us trembling. We can beg for […]
When God asks "Where are you?" - Cody Andras
July 18, 2016 at 10:58 pm[…] where we have retreated. We can heal and hope again. We can find the voice we thought we’d lost. We can tell Him that we’re scared, that the world has left us trembling. We can beg for […]