I care.
I care what people think of me. Care too much. And too much care has spiraled into fear, and that’s what this Struggle Sunday centers upon: fear of man. My particular fear of man majorly covers a facet I’ve long known about myself, but the root issue stems from something much more significant and harrowing beneath the surface.
Afraid to Speak
I recently posted the Week 3 recap of my YouthWorks summer in which I assessed my fear of public speaking. Leading into that third week of programming, I was completely horrified to step up and speak out in front of 75 youth on a daily basis. Just. No way. At one point I distinctly remember being convinced that I simply could not do it — could not speak in front of people. I just was not gifted by the good Lord in that way and would not willingly throw myself into a situation to fail.
Thankfully, I was surrounded by an incredible team this summer who supported me through this fear and gradually helped me overcome. I’m by no means the next coming of John F. Kennedy, but I made significant progress this summer regarding my public speaking fear.
Alas, the root issue is trickier. Messier.
Afraid to Exist
I learned a lot about myself this summer, and what do you know, I discovered that I have a major inferiority complex. Beyond my basic fear of public speaking, I was convinced that any other human being would be an improvement on stage over me: from my fellow team members to Pee Wee Hermon. Compared against anyone else, I was inferior. Incompetent. And since everyone’s so much better than me, why even try?
And that is what I’d consider quite a crippling fear.
But my fear to speak certainly extends beyond the “public” setting. Even in small groups or one-on-one situations, I often consider myself unworthy of the spoken word. I assert that I have nothing to offer the other party or party members. And so I recoil. Retreat.
Repeat, and repeat.
I read an incredible blog post the other day. I could greatly relate, having suffered through acne and the exponential fear of man that brought me. The author expressed my fearful feelings perfectly:
Acceptance is a weird concept when you hope no one looks you in the face. It’s hard to make friends when a good day is making it through unnoticed. Insecurity is a double edge sword: I desperately wanted to be noticed … while staying completely invisible.
And thus, my day-to-day life has long consisted of desperate cries for attention while remaining chained, enslaved to my fear of man.
In reality, I’ve always known this about myself. This fear. But I certainly witnessed and experienced a clearer picture of my fear while in Milwaukee with YouthWorks this summer. And I’ve only now started considering what it’s like to fear God above all else. In place of all else. Psalm 27:1 comes to mind:
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
Whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the strength of my life;
Of whom shall I be afraid?
I don’t pretend to have been “fixed” or “healed” this summer, but I suppose I’m making progress. Slow, painful progress. And so begins the process of healing. Of replacing my fear of man with a more righteous fear.
Who or what do you fear? How do you overcome and break those chains?
