Human, human, human

I heard a quote recently that if we fear God, we fear nothing else. That stuck with me.

“But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened. But in your hearts regard Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:14-15).

My last several devotionals have been on this verse. I’ve been pondering it a lot. Today, I’ve got some heart work for us. There’s a fear that keeps us from witnessing, but let's do a deep dive into the fear that enables us to witness.

“Do not fear their threats; do not be frightened. But in your hearts regard Christ the Lord as holy…”

The fear that enables us to witness is a healthy fear of the One that we’re witnessing about. So who is He? And how can fear be healthy? Or make us not fear anything else? And what does that have to do with me freezing up when I try to share my faith? Well, it's all about Him.

He’s the great God of everything we can see. The God of everything we can’t see. God, by the word of His power, holds the cells together that make up the person we’re afraid to witness to. He’s awesome, powerful, holy, and terrifying. He creates and destroys with one word of His power. Galaxies unnumbered down to the dance of fireflies. He made and upholds it all. The rise and fall of your baby’s breath — each a gentle gift from His hand.

And for this moment of history, He allows the choices of humankind to stand. Lends the world and all that’s in it to Satan's control. But that will not continue forever. Some day, He will step back into the world He made as Judge. Of you, of me, of everyone we meet. And we’ll all, small and great, see Him. King of kings and Lord of lords.

When Isaiah saw Him in His glory, he fell on his face in terror. He had one thing to say: “Unclean!” That was the word he could come up with. Not “Holy, Holy, Holy” like the angels, but “Look at how far short I fall! I don’t belong here!” I’m sure it was a moan. Me. Them. All of us. We’re nothing. Less than nothing. Unclean because of our sin and failure.

But that’s only half the story, isn’t it?

He came. Emptied Himself and came down. He fit Himself into a human frame and allowed His mother to carry Him, feed Him, raise Him. He grew into a humble, strong, kind, average man who no one suspected was God for 30 years. Until He started to do the impossible. He walked up to a man who also cried “Unclean!” and touched Him, and instead of becoming unclean, He made him clean.

He touched our humanity: systematically, our blind eyes, mute lips, withered hands, and deaf ears. Our lame legs and heartbroken cries. Disrupting funerals, He raised the dead. He welcomed children and filled hungry bellies. He provided the fishermen with fish but still made them breakfast. He laughed and cried and ate and drank, and did He dance? Likely. He was tired, lonely, and normal. Shockingly normal. All of it — how can it be?

But then He reached into my life, too. And yours. Touched us — took our hand and lifted us up out of the poverty we were in. Unclean, we knew it. But He didn’t care. He reached out and touched us anyway and made us forever clean. He came for me. He came for you. The awesome, terrible, glorious God we should never know came as Jesus so we could all know Him. The moment we would repent and turn around, He hiked up His clothes and ran to meet us (Luke 15:20).

He ran. God. To me. Can you believe it?

Welcomed. Clothed. Fed. I’m His own now. You are too, if you’ve trusted Him. We’re his children. His chosen, forgiven, cleaned, cherished. And He wants us to invite others in.

Now, I’m going out on a limb here, but I need to share my own experience. And I’ll pray it’s helpful to someone. I honestly have no trouble fearing God. I grew up petrified of Him. Even after I became a Christian, fear of failure (in any way) had me holding God at a distance.

I was a loved daughter who just couldn’t live in it. It’s like God had welcomed me into His home and family, but I decided to sleep in the alley outside the house. Ashamed of how little I had to bring, I would come to the table sparingly. I’d live outside in the elements, working hard. As I read my old journals, I see younger Rachel trying, scraping, heaving to earn that supper with Him — maybe, hopefully, once a week. No more. Full of disappointment and failure, I put scraps on my plate, but never really lifted my eyes.

I knew lots of right things about Him. “Oh. He’s incredible. Wealthy. Generous. Powerful. Great. Terrible. Very majestic.” However I struggled with, “He’s close. Loving. He is a comfort to my soul. He’s called me daughter. I’m His friend.”

I deeply struggled to share Him with my friends because I felt I wasn’t a very good example for them of what a Christian should be. I fell too far short. I was too exhausted. And honestly, everyone else was enjoying Him more than me, so I should maybe just not say anything.

Maybe this doesn’t describe you. I hope it doesn’t. But it described me. I was so concerned about His holiness, so afraid of Him, I missed the fact that He had welcomed me. He loves me. And that, really, meant I had nothing to witness about.

Thankfully, the antidote is right there like a bowl of noodle soup. Eat. Taste and see that He is good. He’s not waiting for me to “get myself together” to really enjoy Him. Maybe something else besides fear and shame keeps you from digging in — I am sharing my story, but I know other believers who are angry at God or hurt or grieving or struggling with bitterness or materialism. Satan can use anything!

Whatever it is, don’t let Satan win. Jesus will forgive, welcome, and restore. He’ll systematically touch your humanity. Your broken bones and heart. He’ll wash your feet and fill your belly with good food. He’ll call you away from your endless work and say, “Follow me.” Or “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” because He’s the one carrying it. Or He’ll listen to your heartache and wrap you up with comfort.

That’s who He is. And the fear of Him, this awesome AND loving God, means we will fear nothing else. He’s who we’re sharing. So the next time you feel afraid to witness about the Lord, regard Him as holy. Just say in your heart, “human, human, human,” to remind yourself who the person before you is. And fear the only One that is “Holy, Holy, Holy,” because He is on your side.