Fearless

Teyla’s bedtime routine right now is as pure and sweet as homemade ice cream.

I give her a bath and snuggle her into pajamas. She makes the rounds to the rest of the family and delivers sloppy goodnight kisses. Then she turns to me, arms outstretched, and we close the door to her room and read books until she’s tired.

Some nights, she falls asleep in my arms, while I rock us both past the state of drowsy. Some nights, I put her in her crib and she breathes out a deep sigh and wiggles under the blanket I tuck around her.

Either way, I end up staying in her room a while, listening to the fan blowing on her dresser and the symphony of a tree frogs and crickets outside her window.

It’s during those quiet, tranquil moments that I let myself soak in the last 24 hours. Sometimes, I’m at peace. Sometimes, I regret. Sometimes, I’m too tired to do anything but let the memories wash over me.

Inevitably, within five minutes, I’m filled to bursting with love for my family. I’m freshly aware that we are blessed – incredibly blessed – to live together under one roof, to eat regular meals, to have access to education and medicine and technology. How great is our God to give this gift to me, a sinner? How rich are His blessings and His love for his own?

“But it’s a little too perfect, isn’t it?” whispers a voice in the back of my brain. “After all, anything could go wrong tomorrow. What if you lost one of your children? What if your family was fractured? What if? What if? What if?”

I’m not a person prone to fear, but I think all mothers know this drill. The icy tendrils of fear creep into our souls and threaten to paralyze us with the unknown.

Max Lucado’s new book, “Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear” addresses this very problem. And he offers the best solution: Fight fear with faith. Feed your fears, and your faith will starve. Feed your faith, and your fears will. It’s really that simple.

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about Lucado. He’s a master storyteller and a prolific author. The tone of “Fearless” will be familiar to you if you’re familiar with his work. It’s genuine and witty, heartfelt and hard-hitting. Reading it is like having a deep conversation with a good friend – which is especially helpful when discussing something as personal and hidden as fear.

We fear we don’t matter. We fear we’re disappointing God. We fear not protecting our kids. We fear the worst-case scenario. We fear the end. We even fear that God isn’t real.

With wisdom and tenderness, Lucado forces us to face our fears. He reminds us that, because of God, we should not be intimidated. He teaches us to make faith our default position instead of timidity. He shows us that it’s possible to be less afraid tomorrow than you are today.

I’ve been so encouraged by this book, I’m going to pass it on. And that’s saying a lot for a book lover. But it just doesn’t feel right to keep this one to myself. Fear is at epidemic levels in the Western world right now. Consider this an inoculation. Leave me a comment on this post (make sure I have a way to contact you), and I’ll draw a winner on Friday night.

As for me, I’m relishing my evenings with Teyla even more these days. Thanks to a fresh infusion in faith in The One Who Knows, fear can’t make it past the nursery door. And both Teyla and I are sleeping like babies.