A Word for Frightened Americans (Day of Prayer and Fasting)

You and I are walking through a season that will define our entire generation.

All our lives, we have read about crises that have come to our grandparents, and their grandparents, and theirs. Those old challenges have been relayed with respect for men and women who made difficult choices, who kept their lights and prayers burning, who invented and sacrificed so that our nation could survive. Now, here we are, facing something new and strange, with the blood of those conquerors running through our veins.

I do not mean that our ancestors created and sustained America perfectly. We carry the consequences of old sins as well as old victories. This is not a time to be elite nationalists.

Yet, patriotism is different from nationalism. Nationalism flaunts, boasts, denies, and demands. It is haughty, dishonest, greedy, and hard. Patriotism is humble, grateful, and selfless. It asks us to give ourselves to the common good. Patriotism is brotherly—a national application of “do unto others.” It is altruistic—a national application of “to the least of these.”

If you are scared, it’s okay to be frightened. If you feel lost, it’s okay to be disoriented. The Americans who have lived through every past crisis felt those same feelings you feel now. You’re not alone. If they could talk to us today, I think they would tell us long stories of how they trembled, and weren’t sure what to do, and made some mistakes. There is grace for all of this.

It’s human to feel the knee jerks of anger, despair, sorrow. These feelings are natural to our situation. Still, what comes after emotional honesty matters.

I am frightened YET...

I am furious YET...

I am depressed YET...

I am grieving YET...

The choice we make after that pause is critical. If we felt no fear, there would be no need for courage. If we knew the way, we would have no need for faith.

Friends, courage isn’t the absense of fear. It’s staring fear in the eyes and doing the next right thing. For those of us who love Jesus, this “next thing” is a step taken in faith, using power He gives us for this time.

So let our honest admission of fear be a starting point only—a confession that drives us to admit our need for a God who is able to sustain, guide, provide.

Jesus loves you, this I know

For the Bible tells me so.

Little ones, you belong to him.

Fear reminds us that we are weak on our own, but He—living through us—is strong. Even here. Even now.

Photo credit: Rosamore on Morguefile