They always say the start of conquering fears is to first recognize them. For me that’s the hard part. Recognizing fears seems like admitting defeat, saying I’m weak, or worse – saying that I don’t trust God enough. Especially when I can easily take logic and head knowledge that I don’t need to fear these things and be triumphant! And yet, that sinking feeling, tightening grasp pushes me to go find distractions and escapes – to be distant from God.
My head knowledge tells me that those fears are the kingdom of evil, an attack on all the good work God has been and will be doing in me. But I tell myself that I can handle it no problem – by myself, maybe even using the excuse that I trust God for provisions.
But maybe it’s simply time to sit down and say “I don’t got it at all.” That “I’m nothing without Him.” That “I am so afraid. Of everything that this world is putting against me. That I put against myself.”
Because I am afraid. I’m afraid to be that scrawny, weak Asian boy in the middle of a black neighborhood. Of danger, of guns and knifes, of pain. I’m afraid that all my head knowledge on God’s good news and redemption and love will all disappear in an instant when I actually get to the middle of it. I’m afraid of fundraising and asking people for help and at the same time of rejection and not raising enough. I’m afraid of planting the PCH area and getting nowhere. Of failure. In leadership. In being single. In figuring out my future and jobs. And I’m afraid of being called by God to a place or purpose or people I’m not ready for.
And that’s where I need to/hope to/will meet with God the most.
PCH, CUP, considering staff for me were decisions after seeing more and more of God’s love through this past year, but it’s just the start of a much longer journey ahead.
Thanks and love for your prayers!
Aaron Zhao is a student blogger from the Chicago Urban Program. Throughout the summer we'll be posting blogs written by students on summer projects. These reflections were originally posted on the blog tofearlessaaron.wordpress.com.
