The Cure for Fear
Recently, my husband persuaded me to watch the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe in chronological sequence. That’s twenty-two movies (roughly fifty hours—or three thousand minutes—of superhero cinema), in case you’re wondering.
Thor became my favorite storyline, and as a lifelong nerd, I loved the super intelligence of Bruce Banner and Tony Stark. But it wasn’t until the last two movies—Infinity War and End Game—that I became engrossed in the Avengers and their mission to save the world. Thanos, the antagonist, terrified me with his twisted logic and brutal size. Yet again and again, the motley Avengers battled him, with me cheering them on in my pjs and comfy socks.
My husband, I’m sure, envisioned himself side-by-side with Black Panther or Captain America, rushing into the heat of battle to help wipe out evil. Me? I’d for sure be the one running away from the fight and cowering in fear. I can’t even manage silly, pretend haunted houses.
Nope, not even the funny one at Disney World. The sight of blood? Almost guaranteed to pass out. Scary movies? Not unless you’re gonna stay up with me all night. Weird, creepy, house-settling noises at night? Let me make my husband check behind every shower curtain. I’d never make the cut as the next Avenger.
But fear is not just a Hollywood production. Our own lives offer plenty of fear-inducing realities: global pandemics, untrusted political leaders, uncertain economies, the threat (or the realization) of losing health or livelihood, difficult relationships, or unrealized hopes and dreams. How much more could you add to this list?
Yet Scripture admonishes us hundreds of times to not fear. Isaiah 41:10 declares, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Thank God he graces us with these reminders to keep fear from overrunning our lives.
For four months recently, I avoided someone who offended me and called my judgment into question. With my habit of people-pleasing (which often leads to avoidance), the thought of engaging this person made me feel as though I might die. After months of listening to me vent, whine, and complain, my husband pulled me into a room, called the person on the phone, and facilitated the conversation I’d so desperately avoided. I wanted to come out of my skin, yet I survived.
If not for my husband, I would’ve lost the opportunity for peace, both relationally and internally. What other good things might I forfeit when fear dictates my actions? If I can’t muster up the small seed of courage required for a conversation, how will I face even more significant, Thanos-sized difficulties?
The simple answer is to turn to Christ. In him, I acknowledge my frail fear and find his acceptance. In this safe refuge, I center my heart on Emmanuel. During those four months of wrestling with knowing the right thing to do but actively avoiding it, the Holy Spirit told me repeatedly, “Focus here, on me. Quit looking outward to solve your fear and anxiety.” Though Christ within me does not preempt my feelings of fear, he is the counterweight to my fearful tendencies. He is the one who can anchor me in place when fears unmoor me. Christ is my sanity when fear upends me. Christ is the gentle whisper when fear surrounds me.
I find his gentle whisper throughout the pages of Scripture. One of my favorites comes from the New Testament, reminding me who lives within me and the benefits that bestows: “God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control” (2 Tim. 1:7 NIV). When fear propagates powerlessness, I look to Christ’s unlimited power. When fear sows hate, I look to Christ’s limitless love to cover me. When fear insists that I mastermind all things, I rest in the One who created all things.
Psalm 56:3 provides a simple and powerful prayer in moments of distress: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in [God]” (NIV). I am not sufficient within myself to live unafraid. But in Christ, I gain access to the One who is all-sufficient.
I don’t know which fear whispers half-truths to you as try to fall asleep at night. I don’t know if your fear comes in small, mundane doses or if you will wake up tomorrow facing your worst, unimaginable fear. Having personally experienced both, I know that the One who authors love stands ready to be your strength. I know that he who is the Good Shepherd will never abandon you to your fears. I know that he will enable you to flourish in beautiful and unexpected ways, even as fear swirls.
Ultimately, those who crush their fears as relentlessly and courageously as the Avengers defeated Thanos are those who train their minds on Christ, his love, and his promises. His presence within us is our cure.
is a writer and teacher who lives with her family in South Carolina. When she’s not pondering words, she enjoys hiking, learning about natural health, and drinking the perfect latte. Allison loves to connect with others about family, special needs parenting, mental health, grief, and faith. Her writing has been featured on The Mighty and Her View from Home, and you can find more of it on her blog Writing Is Cheaper Than Therapy.
Photograph © Masaaki Komori, used with permission
