Seeing Through Fear

by Maiya

Let us continue (our holy) desire, for we shall be filled. - St. Augustine

"What do you want from me?"

We've asked it of others, sometimes slowly and sincerely, and sometimes with exasperation.

We've heard it, asked of us, earnestly or in desperation.

And just maybe, we've posed the question to God, in indignation.

What do you want from me?

Perhaps I asked it, too, in third grade.

Because as a third grader, I couldn't see clearly.

My teacher held up important test forms in the front of the class:

"Start on this side of the form with your Number Two pencils!"

Sitting in the back of the classroom, I started on the side I thought I saw her demonstrate.

My mother received a phone call the next day about my exceedingly poor test results.

It turns out that I had been eagerly filling in the dots for my answers, but all on the wrong side of the form.

What do you want from me? I may have whined.

My teacher wanted to help me see to reach my potential as a student.

My parents wanted to help me see to reach my potential as a human, learning and growing in the world.

And me?

I knew I'd potentially be teased for the entirety of the school year and beyond.

I didn't want to wear the little gold glasses.

My feelings of fear around looking different and being teased could have stunted my growth.

But I wanted to see. I needed to see. And I hoped to discover what else I had been missing.

I put the glasses on my face.

Now, I saw letters and punctuation on the classroom chalkboard!

Now, I noticed the words on the signs everywhere we went!

Now, I marveled at distinct blades of grass and individual leaves on trees!

If I could keep wearing my glasses, embracing the fear of feeling different, what could be possible?

"Fighting or forcing away fear creates a counterforce that makes you tense and anxious and interferes with your performance." Thinking Body, Dancing Mind - Tao Sports for Extraordinary Performance in Athletics, Business and Life - Huang, C. and Lynch, J.

Instead, befriending fear can help us to understand a value or desire.

In essence, we can move and see through fear.

Deep down, I wanted to be different than the kids who were disinterested and disruptive in the classroom.

I wanted to read, to learn, to know, and to grow.

I wanted to be a good student.

And thanks to the reinforcement of certain values, I was able to see differently,

to see through fear.

Maybe I also learned that "what do you want from me?"

has to be a question I ask myself,

a question we each have to ask ourselves as we converse with our Creator,

as we prepare to act in accordance with our desire.

But our human phrasing of "what do you want from me" may be a set-up:

we stand to deplete ourselves or someone else.

Jesus reframes: "What do you want Me to do for you?"

God in flesh can ask this question.

Our answers won't deplete Him: He is abundance.

Our answers won't overwhelm Him: He is omnipotent.

Our answers won't exhaust Him: He is eternal energy.

"What do you want Me to do for you?" asked Jesus of Bartimaeus, the blind and begging man (Mark 10:46-52).

But Jesus's question followed Bartimaeus calling out for Him.

Jesus's question was a response to Bartimaeus addressing Jesus as the Son of God in faith.

"What do you want Me to do for you?" asked Jesus.

"Lord, I want to see," he replied.

It's concise and profound. Seeing with physical eyes. Seeing with spiritual eyes.

Maybe Bartimaeus feared that he would always be trapped in the identity of "the blind beggar."

But his fear of remaining blind prompted his faith in possibility:

Could Jesus give him a new way of life, a new life?

Bartimaeus experienced what we can:

That seeing through fear requires the eyes of faith.

But unless we speak specific words to the One who can help,

to the One Who can make all things possible,

we may just be mumbling incoherently.

And until we allow Him to refine and recalibrate our wants and desires

until they are holy ~ aligned with a spiritual value~

we may just be murmuring indiscernibly.

St. Augustine knew about various types of desire.

His life chronicled chasing wants and desires, as he would admit, "in all the wrong places."

Until he identified that the depth of human desire can only be satisfied in a deeper Source.

So it's fair that he would remind us: desire is the capacity to receive.

Not only would we do well to "be careful what we ask for,"

but "be sure to decide - and be specific!"

Articulation itself begins to create the space to acquire.

Words matter.

But what does it take to identify exactly what we want?

Sometimes it's easier to identify what we don't want, what we fear, what we want to avoid.

It's a good start, to start at fear and see through it.

Fear of danger? A desire for safety.

Fear of not having enough? A desire for security.

Fear of loneliness? A desire for connection.

Speaking out our fears and articulating the connected desire can help us,

through the eyes of faith, to trust God to make our desires holy:

Instead of danger, safety and security in His presence and eternal guidance;

Instead of loneliness, connection in His love, with His people, in His creation.

And if we can't articulate our fear? We can probably already see the clues.

Actions, when disordered, result from confusion around desire and direction.

In Recovery, it's a constant reminder: "Use your words and not your behaviors."

Use words instead of maladaptive coping behaviors.

Use words instead of avoidance of feeling.

Use words instead of self-harm.

Healing starts with words:

with honestly asking oneself, "What do I want?"

with answering trusted sources who ask, "What do you want me to do for you?"

with speaking and listening to our Source Who asks, "What do you want Me to do for you?"

And while healing begins with committing to use words instead of maladaptive behaviors,

Recovery has to pair words and behaviors.

This reinforces the direction of the true desire, want and need.

Faith plus action.

Otherwise a body, mind and spirit are left...disordered.

"(In this 'age of sensation,') we think that if we don't feel something there can be no authenticity in doing it. But the wisdom of God says something different: that we can act ourselves into a new way of feeling much quicker than we can feel ourselves into a new way of acting. (For example) worship is an act that develops feelings for God, not a feeling for God that is expressed in an act of worship. When we obey the command to praise God in worship, our deep, essential need to be in relationship with God is nurtured.”

― Eugene H. Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society

It's a serious question, this one of "What do you want?"

And we need to think about a serious answer.

Probably one of the most frustrating things we can hear from ourselves

or from others in response is... "I don't know."

But even that answer is an opening,

an invitation to begin experimenting with St. Augustine's wisdom:

Desire is the capacity to receive.

Do we want to know what we want?

It's up to us to notice our actions or avoidances,

to observe our patterns or lack thereof,

and to be willing to see through fears.

It's OK to start simply and concisely:

"God, I want You to help me see what I want, what I need, and what I hope for.

Please give me in-sight into Your holy desires for me.

And teach me to act accordingly."

Our spoken words are openings.

Pairing with The Word, we can see our true wants, needs and hopes more clearly.

Desire is the capacity to receive.

What do you want?