Freakin' me out

One of the wonders of my handy-dandy Fitbit is its ability to tell me how I slept. There  is some magic sleep sensor which documents my restless periods and sound sleep and maps it out for my convenience on a graph for my morning evaluation. I can't tell you how many times I've pried my weary eyes open, certain that the night's rest was entirely insufficient before consulting my Fitbit app for confirmation. Upon review, I've found that I slept soundly for a proud 8 hours and 43 minutes with nary a stir, or some such impressive number. This information always seems more relevant than my own evaluation, and my outlook for the day will immediately skyrocket. Obviously, the opposite experience can be a real problem. If  think I've slept well, yet my graph indicates otherwise, I can go from a sunny disposition to exhaustion in a single yawn. It's a modern day insanity. Who looks outside themselves to evaluate something so personal as adequate rest? Me, apparently. The good news is that both are in agreement today, and I have high expectations for my Saturday.


I'm studying Hebrews again this morning. It's a book you are in danger of hearing quite a bit about as it's the current focus of my morning quiet times. This morning I got off on a bit of a tangent (which will no doubt surprise you, given my usual penchant for staying on task) regarding the word "fear."

The book of Hebrews was originally written in Greek, or so I'm told. I can't read Greek, myself, but I have a hefty tome called Strong's Exhaustive Concordance which allows me to examine this foreign language in excruciating detail. Dissecting words can keep me merrily occupied for hours. This morning's rabbit trail had me studying the various ways to express fear. We tend to be somewhat limited in the English language, or I am, anyway. I'm afraid of mice, I'm afraid of pain, I'm afraid of financial ruin, I'm afraid of the dentist. I am afraid of the opinions of others, and I'm afraid of choosing a color I might hate for my office wall. I'm afraid of bad men in dark alleys, I'm afraid of cancer, and I'm afraid of dropping my cell phone on concrete. I employ the very same word in every one of these situations, yet I do not mean quite the same thing. I read in the bible that I am supposed to "fear God," but the concept is unclear. Am I supposed to fear Him as I fear the dentist? Or as I fear a serial killer? Or am I supposed to fear God as I fear spiders?



Many a pastor has explained this from the pulpit with a soothing reassurance that "respect" is what is needed, and nothing so unpleasant as phobia. This makes me feel warm and fuzzy, but I don't see a lot of support for it in the pages of my bible; neither do I find it substantiated in the ancient vocabulary of the authors.
The Greeks offer a word for "Fear" which indicates an unmanly timidity.
There is one which indicates caution, like "beware."
There's one that means "frightened out of your wits."
Another from which we get our English word "Tremble," which refers to the physical tremor of fear.
There's another for astonishment, a sudden startling.
....there's even more, but you get the idea. The point is that the Greek language allows for a great deal of precision when communicating an idea.
The primary word used when talking about fearing God, is the word from which we derive our English word "Phobia." It seems to have embedded in it the idea of flight. It's my response to the idea of mice, or dentistry....I want to flee. It's a feeling of aversion, apparently; a very generic and common fear. No doubt, my lack of linguistic fluency leaves something to be desired in the nuance of this concept, but I think I can glean enough to take away some benefit from the concept of fear.

The verse that started this tangent for me this morning is found in Hebrews 4:1. It says "let us fear lest....any one of you should seem to have come short of it" speaking of the rest God offers.

The first thing I learn is that I am usually afraid of entirely the wrong things. I'm not often motivated by my fear of missing out on what God has to offer to me. I'm motivated by my fear of embarrassing myself in public, or by being struck by an incompetent driver. These daily, admittedly subtle, fears motivate me in ways that my response to God does not. Phobia seems like a weird way to relate to God until I understand just how compelling various phobias are in my daily life. What if I became more motivated by the overwhelming Presence of God Himself than I am by, say, the possibility of my child self destructing. (See, that is a clear and present danger, if ever there was one.) What if the very real fear of coming short of God's Best for me today was stronger than any other circumstance which inspires some phobia in me? How differently would I live?

I know I'd be more concerned about looking for Him and following Him than I would be about how much sleep I may or may not be getting. I'd be setting the tone of my day by what my bible says rather than the graphs on my Fitbit app, that's for sure.

Another thing I learn from this is that I don't really think about God as much as I ought to. If I knew there was a mouse in this house, you know I'd think of nothing else. Nothing. I'd probably go live with Kara until Tim could produce a corpse. I think of God when I read my bible in the morning, and when I need something during the day. Mostly, though, I am thinking of my to-do list and meal planning. If I was thinking about the danger of disappointing God like I'm scared of size 12 jeans, why, that would alter my life! Why aren't I evaluating my very existence like I evaluate my fitness regimen?


If I had a third reason, it would be really eloquent. But I don't. Mostly, I think it's all about my first reason: I spend so much energy fearing the wrong things, and far too little time on the Creator of my Soul.

"The Fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, fools despise wisdom and instruction."- Proverbs 1:7