His Burning Sun Shall Melt the Ice of Fear

by Jer

Be still my soul when light you cannot see; And trembling skies speak to the fear in thee. -Lisbeth Scott

I have one of those worrisome personalities.

I'm not going to bore you with the details of what that means, because I think already you know. But that fact notwithstanding, if I were to encapsulate it in one analogous phrase, it'd be The sky is falling and I'm Chicken Little.

If, by chance, you're still not getting me, I'll put it another way: I'm way, way too high-strung for my own good (and probably for the good of those around me).

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I ended-up like this at the ripe ol age of thir... . I suppose it doesn't help that several of my relatives tend to be hand-wringers. On the other hand, my own mother doesn't seem to sweat too many of life's details, unless, like any good parent, she's done her best to shield me.

So maybe I came by honestly. Maybe I didn't.

I'll try not to worry about it.

The thing about living with anxiety in the 21st century is that there are countless things out in the world that exasperate the problem and few things to remedy it. I know, because I've been trying for most of my adult life to get my anxiety in check. Sometimes that journey has felt like one step forward and ten looking-over-your-shoulder steps back.

Of all the things that cross my path on a daily basis, nothing speaks to that worrisome facet of my personality like the news. If my anxiety is a fire, the news is a five gallon drum of gasoline.

And I don't have to actually hear or read a full news report. Just getting the gist of a headline is enough to get me worked-up.

Here are some examples I found on the front page during a single visit to my biggest news nemesis, CNN.com. These were all of the 'top headlines' they had listed for the day:

• Coerced testimony allowed at Gitmo trials
• Oprah: Abducted boy too scared to flee
• Time.com: What will falling oil prices mean?
• House passes tax hike to Big Oil
• Radical Muslim: We drink our enemies' blood
• CNNMoney: MySpace faces sex abuse lawsuit
• Apology aims to heal 'Grey's Anatomy
• Couple hole up in 'fortress,' won't pay taxes
• Wreck victim saved after 9 hours in cold muck
• Woman steals identity, gets into Ivy League
• 2nd teen catfight caught on tape, seen on web
• Seinfeld loses real estate dispute

In one glance, my brain took in the following words or phrases: trials, abducted, tax hike, enemies' blood, sex abuse, catfight, and dispute.

Is there even the potential to read something uplifting in that tangle of by-lines?

Hell of world we live in. Literally.

Back in May 2004 I had the privilege to hear speaker, author, teacher, and generally-smarter-than-most-persons, Marva Dawn. I heard also heard biblical scholars like Dallas Willard and Eugene Peterson speak, but the only thing I recall from that weekend was an off-hand comment made my Mrs. Dawn during one of her keynotes.

I don't watch the news. I avoid it altogether. It doesn't accurately reflect God's sovereignty in the world, so I have no use for it.

And therein lies the problem for me and most worriers, does it not? My world view is just like the world news. It doesn't accurately reflect that God is totally, undeniably, unequivocally, unambiguously, incontrovertibly, irrefutably, indubitably, indisputably in control. And until I accept that He is in control, my anxiety - and subsequently, key elements of my life - will be out-of-control.

In his sixth film of the Nooma series, Rob Bell asks the following question:

What do you really believe God is like? Because until we each deal with this question, then nothing's ever going to make any sense, is it?

So do I believe God is in control? Do I believe that He is good?

Someone once told me that our values are revealed in our choices.

Worry is choice.

What's that say about the things I value or the things I really believe about God?

Not much, me thinks.

So, it's gut-check time. Do I continue to choose the path of hand-wringing, tension headaches and Zoloft, or do I let something in that scares me more than the objects of my anxiety: a little faith.

When I was a kid, it was popular in church Youth Group meetings to play a song that resonated with an emotion or an experience. Looking back now, I see how it was great identity development stuff, but at it's core, it was a practice born out of our inability to articulate a feeling. Who could blame us? We were just kids.

But even now, as an adult, there is one song that - when I'm really wound tight - acts as a gentle salve. Be Still My Soul by Lisbeth Scott (iTune it):

Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side
Stand calm within, the storm of grief and pain
Trust in thy God to order and provide
Through every change his faithful light remains
Be still my soul the restful peace within
Through trying times leads to a joyful end

Be still my soul, the wind and waves shall know
The voice who ruled them while he dwelt below
Torment and doubt have slipped into the past
All darkened mysteries shall shine at last
His burning sun shall melt the ice of fear
Lift up your heart his soothing voice to hear

Be still my soul when light you cannot see
And trembling skies speak to the fear in thee
The face of God illuminates the night
Unending peace and trusting perfect light
Be still my soul when tears fall from above
You are divine eternally in love
You are divine eternally in love.