If you’ve never spent very much time behind a wall, you have no idea how safe you can feel. You are completely hidden and protected. Nothing and no one can reach you. If someone or something invades your space, you just go deeper behind the wall or you make it higher and thicker. The trick is to be invisible. Imagine coming out of a dark hole where you have been hidden for 50 years into the bright morning sun. Oh, the pain, the discomfort, and the overwhelming desire to turn and run back to the safety and security of that hole, to that which is familiar! Back there you knew your way around. No one could get to you. You were safe . . . or you thought you were. But now, complete exposure! It doesn’t matter if God loves me, if my family loves me, or if my friends love me. That is not the issue. I know the way things should be and how I should be, but there is a lot of difference in how I should feel or act and what I actually feel and know.
The sun’s rays blind me. My heart races as I grope my way forward. I can’t see; I begin to look for somewhere to go; some place to hide. But before I can crawl behind my wall, a hand reaches for mine. An arm goes around my shoulder and someone I know who loves me asks, “Are you ok?” And the flight impulse subsides and I turn and answer, “Yeah, I’m ok.”
Exposure gives place to a sense of abandonment. Although I chose to walk out from behind my walls, they left me. I’ve been abandoned. What once gave me security, comfort, and even a measure of contentment is no longer a part of who I am. Much like a toddler taking her first steps, I embark upon a journey that will require every ounce of courage, strength, and faith I can muster.
What is so hard about letting go, of stepping out from behind the walls put in place years ago in a desperate dash for survival? That’s what it comes down to—I simply wanted to survive. Instead of trusting God to take care of me, to provide for whatever I needed, and to set me on a new course in life, fear took control. Like a rat scurrying for its hole, I ducked behind my walls, throwing them higher and making them thicker each time someone or something threatened my safety or security. Instead of running to my Lord and Savior, instead of letting Him heal my heart, instead of making Him my fortress, my comfort, and my security, I chose to hide. I refused to trust. I was afraid.
According to 2 Timothy 1:7, God does not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of a sound mind. All I had needed, even wanted, God had available for me. He is the God of all resources.
So why did I hide? I was afraid. Why was I afraid? I simply refused to let God do for me all He has ever wanted to do—empower me through His love to live a productive life for His glory. All I needed to do was let Him be God.