Recently, I acquired my uncle’s kayak. He’s recovering from surgery and can’t get out to paddle, so I gladly took it off his hands. I’ve wanted to try kayaking for a while, but if I’m being honest, I was a little afraid. That might surprise some of you. I love to fish, I love critters, I love being outdoors, and I love being on the water. But ever since becoming an adult, I’ve had this odd fear of being in the water with the fish… and the critters. (I only swim in what the Beverly Hillbillies called a “cee-ment pond.”)
So, the kayak sat, untouched, for a couple of months. Every time I thought about taking it out, fear bubbled up:
What if the current is too strong?
What if I flip over?
What if I meet my friend Fluffy the alligator?
Finally, Michael suggested, “Let’s just load it in my truck and take it somewhere calm so you can do a little test paddle.”
We unloaded the kayak. My tummy fluttered. My knees knocked. Still, I climbed in, a little shaky but determined. Michael was ready to help me launch, but I grabbed his arm and said, “Don’t push me too fast.” He assured me that he wouldn’t. With a gentle nudge, off I went. I paddled, and the fear began to melt away, and I kept on paddling. Laughing with delight and enjoying the beauty of the water.
About 30 minutes later, I heard my phone ring in my pocket. Michael’s voice came through the speaker, half-laughing, half-panicked:
“Where are you?! I can’t see you anymore. I thought you flipped and got eaten by Fluffy!”
I laughed. “Nope! I love this! I paddled all the way out into the fast current. It’s so much fun!”
That moment reminded me of another time, many years ago, when fear nearly kept me from something just as joyful.
I was about five years old when my dad planned a family vacation to Whiteface Mountain in the Adirondacks, just about as far north in New York as you can go before it becomes Canada. One of the highlights of the trip was going to be the alpine slide. If you’ve never heard of an alpine slide, it’s a smooth, winding track built right into the side of a mountain. No snow required. Ski resorts install them for warm-weather fun once the snow melts. You sit in a small cart with a hand brake in the middle that gives you full control over your speed.
For the weeks leading up to our trip and then, the entire four-hour+ car ride, I stared out the window and asked the same questions again and again:
“Is it as big as that mountain, Daddy?”
“No, Katie. It’s bigger.”
“Is it taller than that one?”
“Yes, Katie. It’s taller.”
“And I can ride with you, right?”
“Yes, you can ride with me.”
“You won’t go fast, will you, Daddy?”
“No, Katie. I won’t go fast.”
And even once we arrived at the base of Whiteface Mountain, the questions didn’t stop. On the ski lift up, my fear climbed right along with us. I watched people zoomie-zoom-zooming down the slide like streaks of light, and my stomach flipped again. My little legs trembled as we got to the top.
We climbed into our cart, and I grabbed my dad’s arm and asked one last time. “You’re not going to go fast, right Daddy?” He assured me again. We started down the mountain slowly. As we cruised gently down the track, the fear began to melt away. I started giggling, and then I started screaming with joy: “FASTER, DADDY! FASTER!”
By the time we reached the bottom, I looked at him and said: “Can we do it again? And can I go by myself this time? I want to go fast!”
How many times in life does fear show up as False Evidence Appearing Real? Or tell us to Forget Everything And Run? Fear lies to us. It holds us back. It is not our friend. But faith? Faith tells us something different. Did you know that the Bible says “Do not fear” or “fear not” approximately 365 times? That’s one for every day of the year. I don’t think that’s an accident. God doesn’t want us paralyzed by fear. He calls us to walk in faith, not fear.
I’m in a season of stepping into something new. Exciting? Yes. But also… scary. And fear has been loud. But over and over, God reminds me: fear may scream, but faith whispers. Fear shows up in all kinds of forms. Sometimes it looks like a towering mountain when you’re five. Sometimes it’s a quiet tributary with imaginary (and not so imaginary) gators. Sometimes it’s stepping into a new business opportunity.
But what I’ve learned is this: the things that scare us at first often end up being wildly, joyfully worth it.
We don’t have to let fear call the shots. In fact, maybe we can redefine it. FEAR: Face Everything And Rise. Because when we face it, when we paddle forward, when we push off, when we trust, we rise. We rise into confidence, into laughter, into growth and adventure. And we don’t rise alone.
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9
So, the next time fear screams, let faith respond: “I’ve got this!”
Faith Engaged. Action Released.