The God Of All Comfort

Let me just start by saying I have no room to speak as an expert on the topic of fearlessness. Anyone that knows me knows I struggle with fear. We're talking everything from holding too tightly on a roller coaster to full on panic. So, know that you're not reading skin-deep words from someone who is joyfully oblivious to fear and anxiety – you're reading words from someone who's felt that deep, nagging ache in their heart and stomach, begging God to show up in the midst of perceived chaos.

Fear is the real deal. Whether what you fear is logical or not, the emotion is very real. And it sucks.

Once I got past the excitement of finally traveling abroad again, the trip to Haiti became the source of intense anxiety in my life. For weeks I googled everything I could about air travel, how planes work, why we shouldn't be scared of crashing – you name it.

There's something about flying in a plane that makes me lose all my common sense, all my trust in Jesus, and turn into an absolute nutcase. I've flown in well over 50 flights in my life – heck, I've flown 360 degrees around the world! But theres something about it. Something that makes me lose my mind.

Three out of four flights to Haiti were scary (for me at least, everyone else was sleeping or watching TV). But one was terrifying. Like, terrifying, you guys.

I didn't want to fly from Miami back home to Atlanta. I wanted to drive. Three flights had been scary and I simply couldn't take another.

There's certainly something to be said for facing your fears, but I was just not okay. I was crying, sweating, shaking like a leaf. P.S. did you know you actually do shake like a leaf? I thought that was an expression – that your "spirit" or "heart" were shaking like leaves. I was physically shaking.

I was shaking to the point where I, at one point mid flight, was commanding my thigh muscles to stop in the name of Jesus. Even now I'm getting tense thinking about it. I was so scared that I was dizzy. I didn't think we were going to make it home. I imagined newspaper headlines and felt bad I didn't clean my room well enough before I died.

Guys, it was bad. So bad. No worship songs or prayers would make it go away. I allowed fear to overtake my soul on that flight back from Miami to Atlanta.

But the thing that made me the most mad? The thing that caused me the most shame? The fact that I let fear overtake me after an amazing week in Haiti (where it was actually dangerous, unlike a plane flight). A week where I tangibly felt the weighty peace of God overtake me. It was like nothing else I'd ever experienced.

So in my imperfection, in my fear, I want to write this blog, giving God the glory for the weight of his love and affection that week. Because I refuse to let shame win. Jesus is the one in charge here.

When I got to Haiti, it was a little nuts. I was alone in a new country. I didn't speak the language at all (Haitian Creole, anyone?) I didn't know what the guy who was picking me up looked like (I got in the van with the right Haitian man though, props to me!) I was carrying over $3,000 of team money in cash. And I was about to be alone in Haiti for two days. Even though Adventures does an amazing job of setting up trips and keeping us safe, there was legitimate reason to fear. But no fear came.

No fear came that week. Sure, there were occasional moments where I heard the gate open at 3am and I got out my headlamp to go check it out (cause I was in "mama mode" as the leader), but there was no gripping, all consuming fear. Like at all. And I absolutely believe it was because of prayer. My fervent prayer, your prayer, everyone's prayer. I felt coated in it. Coated in the weight of the Holy Spirit's comfort.

I don't know about you, but when I go to bed, I like heavy blankets on me. I have a fuzzy blanket below me, a fuzzy blanket above me, and a heavy quilt on top of that. Sure, I kick it off my feet and wake up with all my blankets in knots, but I like having that weight covering my body. The heaviness of my comforter puts me to sleep.

Did you catch that? The heaviness of my COMFORTER puts me to sleep. That's just it! That's the only way I can describe Haiti to you. Jesus' presence – the Holy Spirit's presence – was so thick. So heavy. That my comforter put me to sleep each night. The muscles that shake in fear in planes had supernatural muscle relaxers in them or something. It was like someone drugged me. But it was pure, unadulterated grace. Grace for the moment. Twas grace my fears relieved.

So, cheers to the God of all comfort, right? Cause he's real – even if my scared little plane flight self forgets that. I'm learning to let the Comforter weigh heavy on me in all circumstances, even plane flights. And I still haven't gotten that one down yet. But Jesus is patient and there is no shame.

He's real. And he comforts. And prayer really, really works. Like it really does.

So, what's that one area for you that you haven't fully surrendered to the Lord? What's that one thing that you fear? The one area where you're not sure he's going to show up? Let's pray together for that peace that surpasses all understanding to coat those moments and areas. To have grace weigh down on our hearts so heavily that we can live and sleep in peace. Let's pray for it, shall we?