What do I fear?

The last sermon at Mars Hill was about fear. At community group the next day many shared their fears. The spectrum was unexpectedly wide: from fear of Pastor Mark to fear of failure. The latter was echoed by several men -- they were particularly afraid of not making enough to provide for their families/future families. As a woman I have to say it was a bit surprising. Maybe because I am still technically under my father's authority/protection, but I have never been afraid that I wouldn't be able to make it financially, especially since I've moved out on my own and realized that paying rent is not the end of the world and a BMW is only needed in places without highly efficient public transportation. Nobody knows what you park in the garage before coming into work in the morning in the city anyways...

Of course, I have fears of my own to add to the pool of diverse examples, but narrowing them down to THE one took a bit of thought. For me, it is the fear of rejection. I'm not exactly sure when this fear started to manifest itself (my guess is 5th grade. If you're curious I'll share, otherwise I'd like to forget that year... Some day). But I have come to realize that it has hindered my life in all aspects ever since: ministry, education, work, personal accomplishments, friendships, relationships.

Ironically, considering my being known as running sarcastic commentary on topics large and small, I take any type of criticism and any "no" extremely personally. Rejection, especially in the areas where I am emotionally invested, hurts me to the core. But in my short lifetime I have discovered an excellent coping mechanism: indifference. I rarely let a friend in too deep. That way if they betray me, it won't hurt. But that comes at a cost of never experiencing what it feels like to trust. I am not emotionally invested into my workplace or colleagues. That way if I get fired or reprimanded I wouldn't care. But that comes at a cost of feeling like a robot more and more each day. Diligent about ministry in the past, lately I have found excuses not to pursue any opportunities and sabotage the ones I do take on. That way there is no chance of failure. But there is also no fulfillment in knowing that I am doing what God called me to do. And finally, deeming Christian men boring hypocrites and instead hanging out with non-christians with whom I know nothing can ever be permanent, has successfully kept me from entering into any relationship that may turn into a lifetime. That way I could never be vulnerable and have my heart broken again. But it also eliminates the possibility of love and a family.

My response to rejection is automatic system shut-down. Any emotion that was lingering towards the topic is immediately cut-off, and the source of infliction is avoided at all costs. This is generally not a good plan if it's a professor who is about to fail you if you won't talk to him about possibilities of bringing up your grade. Or a supervisor who gives you 30 days to start reporting your work instead of "just doing it." In relationships and friendships it translates to me never addressing anything that bugs me. I tolerate close to everything, pushing a person away instead of communicating with them, sometimes immediately, sometimes gradually, and often without them having any clue about what went wrong.

Perhaps this fear is what holds the place of "Lord" in my life, when it should be Jesus. Letting go of it is difficult and painful. But maybe it's time.