Spiders and I have a tenuous relationship. As a little girl, I thought they were downright freaky. But my beloved grandmother loved to scoop up daddy long-legs and sweet talk ‘em. More afraid I’d disappoint her than I was of the nickel-sized monsters, I’d give the spiders she found chummy names and pretend to be interested.

Once upon another time in Ecuador, classmates had a phobia of the little eight-legged reminders that evil has corrupted this world. In the safety of my own room, I gave the beasts a wide berth. But among my peers a bigger fear reigned: admitting weakness. So I feigned courage as the designated squasher when all the guys had gone off and every girl was arguing over who would check the rooms for creepy, crawling terrors.

On the other hand, those who already know me well enough to disbelieve my fake bravery are more accustomed to the sound of screaming and stomping in the shower when anything else moves in there. I’m not afraid of these people or what they think of me so I’m rather free to exhibit my fear of arachnids with full gusto.

My fear of spiders seems directly proportional to my fear of people’s thoughts of me.

But I’ve been learning fear is always proportional. How we measure our fears matters.

As a freelance writer, I work from home. Previously, my office was a little room with a sharply pitched roof and a solitary window. It was tacked on top of what was once a garage and the insulation was so lacking that at times it was warmer to walk in the snow or cooler to go sit out in the shade. Still, it was (mostly) charming.

Too often though, as I worked, I discovered spiders an inch from my nose. They bungee jumped from the ceiling and it seemed I was their target.

Because I work from home, I was usually alone when their escapades occured. Since my arachnophobia corresponds to my fear of other’s thoughts, that was a dilemma.

I had no one to call for immediate rescue.

I also had no one to prove myself to by faking bravery.

To decide between paralysis and action, I needed something new to measure my fear against.

The pickings were slim.

If I weighed my fear of spiders against my fear of missing deadlines, the competition was close. If I weighed my fear of valiantly relocating or crushing spiders against my fear of allowing them to run free, the answer was clear: they’d learned to parachute onto my head! There was no telling what more they might do!

The real secret to actionable courage, it seems, is finding a bigger fear.

“Fear of the Lord,” Proverbs 9:10 says, “is the beginning of wisdom.”

God backs up this claim.

When God called the Israelites to courage in the face of fearsome enemies, he offered no encouragement that they were strong enough or brave enough. Instead, God directed them to someone more fearsome than their enemies: himself. God’s response to our fears is the same.

He stands beside our fears and invites us to compare the proportions.

My tactic for courage in the face of eight-legged risks and two-legged threats has changed. I’m starting to measure them against the God I revere. Not surprisingly, God always proves mightier.

[bctt tweet=”Fearing God makes other fears seem foolish.” @BethanyMcIlrath username=”PatHolbrook”]

That proportionate perspective, to me, makes sizing up life’s spiders much less intimidating!


LINKUP PARTY opens at 6 am EST!

Christian Bloggers, come share your Blog with our audience below:

1. Add your Link.

2. Visit the blogger before or after and encourage them with a comment.

3. Share on social media. Click below to share on Twitter that you are joining us! We would love to have you follow the ministry on Twitter and Facebook as well: Soaring with Him FB Page

[bctt tweet=”@BethanyMcIlrath found healing for crippling, even irrational fears. Come read about it and be part of our #linkup party! ” username=”PatHolbrook”]


Subscribe To Our Newsletter!

Subscribe To Our Newsletter!

Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from our team.

You have Successfully Subscribed!