Today’s challenge is to write about your deepest fear. Some people are afraid of public speaking, spiders, heights, airplanes. I’ve never had any of those common fears. I once got reprimanded for walking in a “bad” neighborhood during a prayer walk. They tried to explain the rules to me–“We’re just here to stay in the police-guarded park, not cross the street and mingle with the locals.” When that didn’t work, someone finally asked me, “Aren’t you afraid to go over there?” I laughed in the face of danger–or at least, in their face. “Seriously?” I said, “I’m going to live in the Middle East and you think I’m afraid to pray with someone when there are police standing 300 feet away?”
Yeah, I live on the wild side. Not really. But I don’t have a lot of fears. I do have one though. A deep-set fear that has followed me my whole life. I’m afraid that when I die, my life won’t have amounted to much. I’m afraid of it not being worth-while. When I was studying the life of John Calvin in school I was severely discouraged–by the time he was 23 he had a law degree and had already published a book. At 23 I was still trying to figure out what exactly I was doing with my life and which Starbucks drink was my favorite.
Turning 30 was easy for me, but when I turned 33 I was incredibly discouraged. I had now lived as long as Jesus and look at everything he had done. I mean, I know I’m not Jesus, it’s just . . . I want my life to mean something. I want to make an impact. I want the world to be a better place because I have been in it. And my biggest fear is that I’ll fail at that goal.
What about you? What are you afraid of?