Fear Not

(A reflection on the messages of Christmas)

The phone rang. Bad timing. I was getting ready, last minute rush of course, to head out the door for a weekend retreat. I looked quickly at the caller ID—Indianapolis: the younger daughter. A smile returned to my face as I grabbed the receiver.

Quick hellos, hers a bit stiff. That mother instinct bristled. “Mom, the first thing I want to say is that I’m all right.”

No conversation should start this way. The words that followed nearly buckled my knees. “I was hit by a car.”

I responded with, “Is the car okay?” Thinking that she meant she was in an accident and rear-ended or something. No, she was crossing the road from her dorm to the main part of campus, in a clearly marked crosswalk with a group of students, when a car decided to run the red light and plow right into her. Stunned, she got up and walked on to the other side of the road. The lady pulled into a nearby lot and checked on Beth.

Friends took her to the emergency room. Nothing was broken, but she was severely bruised and battered. Forget the retreat, I was ready to run to Indianapolis (about a three hour drive) if I had to just to be near my baby (who was twenty and way too independent for my liking).

“I’m okay. They gave me some pain meds.” There was some promise that she would call her father later. And she was off the phone. Reluctantly, I went on to the retreat.

There are just ways that conversations shouldn’t be started. I was reminded of this as I was reading my Advent devotional this week. “Fear not” should probably be at the top of the “don’t use” list.

Imagine being blinded by an incredible light while sitting out in the field at night keeping your eye on the sheep. Imagine being a young teen, engaged, hopeful of a normal life, and getting the news that Mary received. Imagine being Joseph. An angel, or a huge army of them, comes to you and says, “Look, don’t be afraid, but…”

For that matter imagine the “Fear nots” that come our way: Fear not, it’s cancer. Fear not, she’s had an affair. Fear not, it’s a pink slip. Fear not, it’s the transmission. Fear not.

Those are tough pills to swallow and our inclination, or least mine, is to go with Mary: how can this be? My downfall is generally in the moment I focus on the struggle, the challenge, and fail to see that if God is willing to send an angel, or an army of angels, then I can trust He’s got things covered. I just need, like Mary, to accept, ponder, and then move ahead in strength and confidence.

His “fear nots” are really promises. From the very outset of whatever it is that we are facing, He presence is His bond to be with us all the way. And that’s the good stuff to hold on to!