Most fear (or to be precise, anxiety) doesn’t come from what’s happening. It comes from what might happen — the what-ifs. Sometimes our own minds conjure stories of doom, sometimes they’re echoes from others, and sometimes (as in my story below) other people prey on our worries. Fear loves to get ahead of things. It tries to protect us, but often just keeps us stuck.
Faith, on the other hand, lives in the now. It’s quiet, steady, and a powerful antidote to fear.
I was reminded of this on a recent trip to visit my daughter, Tara, in Lisbon. We decided to take a long weekend to explore the stunning, mountainous island of Madeira. The fear vs. faith dynamic showed up almost immediately — at the rental car counter.
It was late, around 11 p.m., and we were both tired. I casually mentioned to the woman behind the desk that I’d need an automatic.
“We don’t have any. Did you request one?” she asked, already sounding annoyed.
“I didn’t realize I had to,” I replied, the fear already bubbling up.
“Well, we only have manuals. If you don’t know how to drive one, you should get the full insurance. Ruining clutches is expensive, but the insurance is only $600,” said the fear-feeding clerk.
“I have insurance through Expedia,” I responded.
“Well, we’re not Expedia. We’re OK Rental,” she replied, pointing to the sign. (An ironic name for a very un-OK rental company.)
My stomach dropped. I hadn’t driven a stick in over 40 years. The roads in Madeira are famously steep and winding. The what-ifs came rushing in: What if I stall on a hill? What if I can’t remember how? What if I damage the car, or worse, us?
I looked at Tara, who was clearly annoyed with the clerk. The clerk stared at me. And I stood there, frozen in indecision.
“What about taking Ubers?” I asked Tara, already knowing how unrealistic that would be given our hiking plans.
Then Tara, calmly and without hesitation, said,
“Mom, Mikki (my 24-year-old niece) drove a stick when she was here. And she didn’t even learn on one. You’ve got this.”
It wasn’t a pep talk. It was certainty. A quiet expression of faith. And even though I didn’t fully believe it, it worked. I took the keys and we drove off (without the extra insurance.)
Over the next 24 hours, I was anxious every time I got behind the wheel. I had a few jerky starts on hills (once accompanied by the unmistakable smell of a challenged clutch), and even asked a kind stranger to back the car out of a tight spot. But I kept going. And by the next morning, I was driving like a pro.
Later, I asked Tara how Mikki had handled the steep roads with no experience.
She shrugged. “I made that up. You just needed to hear it. I knew you could do it.”
I laughed at my wise daughter’s sneaky tactic. She was right. I didn’t need a lesson in shifting gears. I needed a little faith.
That wasn’t the only time fear showed up that weekend and faith had to step in. Another jolt came when I found out, afterwe landed, that Madeira is one of the most difficult airports in the world to land in. And during one of our hikes, we found ourselves ducking through pitch-dark tunnels we hadn’t prepared for, stumbling through puddles and uneven ground. Fear would have turned me around. But faith kept me going. And we ended up at a stunning waterfall.
On our last day, Tara went back to work while I explored a nearby town. After her third sweet text checking in on me, I replied: “All’s still good. Have a little faith. ”
Midlife is like this too, isn’t it? We find ourselves in unfamiliar territory, unsure how to navigate what lies ahead. The road is different than we imagined. Our bodies change. Our relationships shift. The old forms of control we once clung to don’t always work. And fear, if we let it, can run (or worse, ruin) the whole show.
But faith — faith can be a steadying companion.
So, I’ll leave you with this:
Where in your life right now is fear holding you back?
And what might change if you turned to faith instead?
You may be delightfully surprised.
~Shayna