Be Not Afraid.
unfearing the unknown
There was no mistaking the light.
It was there and it was shimmering.
And I saw it float across the double window in my bedroom.
I can’t say I’m a religious person but rather a true believer.
As a child I attended Catholic school. I liked it enough. For a rule follower it was easy for me. Do this, don’t do that. Be this way, not that way. Okay…done!
Then one day in 4th grade the teacher had us read from a religious book. There was a line in it that said something about being God Fearing. She then looked at me and asked,
“Jill, what does it mean to be God Fearing?”
My young mind didn’t comprehend what it meant but I spouted out the most logical answer I could come up with.
“It means to be scared of God.” I said.
“Actually, no.” she retorted and asked someone else.
It didn’t make sense to me. Why would they call it God fearing if God called us to not be afraid?
I remembered singing the song in mass all the time: “Be not afraid, I go before you always. Come follow me and I will give you rest.”
But what I learned that day is not to fear God but to fear what God would do to you if you didn’t obey Him. Ohhh…I get it now.
Listen, I’m going to fear the parent if they threaten to hit me with the switch if I don’t do exactly what they tell me to do, right? My mind was on overload. So many rules…Don’t screw it up, Jill, or God will be displeased with you.
So for years I thought of God as my dictator rather than a friend or an equal.
And no place was this more apparent then the confessional. As a Catholic school girl confession was on the regular. Before I went in with the priest for my ‘judgement’ I had to rack my brain to come up with things I ‘did wrong’ in the last couple of weeks.
Uhh…I hit my sister because she took my toy (and because she deserved it), I got upset with my mom for making me wear clothes I didn’t want to, uhh…I stubbed my toe and said ‘dang it!’ …uhh…(I’m a freakin’ child who just messes up sometimes!)
So yes, I was God fearing, in the right way AND the wrong way.
Several years later, I would find my teenage self on my knees in a dark room, elbows on my bed. I am wrought under a weight of heavy emotions, tears streaming. It must have had a particularly hard day (or hard couple of days) and am audibly begging God for forgiveness, tormenting myself for what I was going through at the time. Much time had passed when something drew my eyes up to the window in front of me.
A shimmering light floating across my window.
The blinds were drawn but I could still see it.
My heart sank to my stomach and I jumped onto my bed and under my breath muttered,
“No, no, no, no… I’m not ready to see you. Not yet.”
I was talking to Jesus. I thought at any moment He would appear at the end of my bed. But who floated across my window was my spirit guide, an angel of sorts, not Jesus, and somehow I knew it.
I bravely leaned across to the window and pealed open the shades, terrified of what I would see. I saw nothing except the neighbor’s back porch lights, their bold beams streaming purposefully onto the grass. Could those lights have been what I mistakingly thought was ‘shimmering, floating lights’ across my window? What else could have possibly made that light? But no matter which way I looked at it, nothing else made sense.
Looking back there is no doubt in my mind that it was a beautiful, peaceful celestial presence visiting me that night with a message:
“I’m here. Have no fear. You don’t have to do this alone.”
But yet, the overwhelming emotion that instinctively came over me in that moment was fear. It was the ‘fear of God.’ It was the fear of being judged for my weaknesses like every other human had judged me. I couldn’t face that, so I rejected it; told it to go away.
I often look back on that experience and wished I felt differently. I wish I would have been brave enough to let Him appear to me. Would I have been whispered a message that would have helped me believe in myself earlier in life? Would I have been given the secrets to avoiding terrible situations in my future? I guess I will never know… or I guess I wasn’t ever supposed to know.
But what it did for me was give me hope.
A hope that I may not have understood at the time, but what I deeply understand now. And as an adult who has had to endure a lot of loss, I yearn for messages of hope from beyond, from loved ones passed, from my spirit guides, even from God.
Because I know now that God walks beside me, within me, and even carries me, when I need it.
And if He ever comes to visit me again after a rough day, I will invite Him in for a cup of tea and a chat. Because after everything I’ve been through in this life, God is the last thing I fear.
Sending you all love and hope this day!
xoxo
jill
(Side Note: I use ‘Him’ in reference God in this essay for ease but I believe God to be both masculine and feminine.)
Love this piece!
💫✨️🌟❤️