Fear can do one of three things to a person: paralyze, cause them to flee, or incite fighting.

Recently, I found my feet glued to the edge of a small pavilion outside “The Learning Hub” at my university for the semester. Nearly everyone was watching, and most of those who were part of the Australia Studies Centre were joyously interacting with Australians and each other alike, commenting on accents or the weather, the bangers and bread slowly disappearing from their fingertips.

There I was, staring with saucers for eyes, doing everything in my power to keep myself from clutching and/or hiding behind the support beam of the roof and physically placing it between myself and them.

I’d been there before. No, not Brisbane, QLD, Australia on a hot summer day in February. But clutching that pole, hiding from people in plain sight. I do it quite often. As I’m traveling in Australia, I’ve found a surprisingly dark and unfair mindset I have: I want the Australian experience, education, and even culture…

...with everything familiar I know and understand from back home. Especially the aspect of home I hold dearest, my people. My family. My friends.

This mentality is deadly. Not only does it jeopardize my potential to build new relationships due to my expectations with past relationships, it also starts off these wonderful new people at a disadvantage. Additionally, I am also blinded to the beauty of a new culture, new people, and new experiences. Of course, it also hardens my heart to all of what God can teach me in the present. Any potential I have for growth is smothered as I clutch to familiarity for the sake of security.

So why am I holding so tightly to this skewed and unhelpful view?

Fear is a beast. It’s a small earworm of doubt with the button jammed on repeat. Fear digs into the dirt on the side of my foundation and lights a stick of C4. Fear tears away the feeling of validation after a positive conversation because another person doesn’t hear me the first time. Fear tells me, the girl who struggles to be confident in her identity, I am unlikeable. It tells me my God doesn't speak my love language. Fear tells me my faith is unreliable, and so is my memory. Fear implies mistakes are unforgivable.

I am desperate to be liked, to invest in meaningful relationships. To create a positive and inclusive environment so people can grow—leaving God’s thumbprint on their life. Being in this new situation with amazingly confident people has shifted me into a place of doubt—in what my values are, what I hope for this experience to be, and what my identity will be in this chapter of my life.

Now I’m willing to bet everyone who moves into a totally new environment without anyone from their past experiences this on some level. The concoction of doubt, fear, and worry soaking through bones and seeping through that “armor of God” previously impenetrable when everything was going right.

For me, praying, writing with God, and reading the Bible are all an imperative pieces in reconstructing my confidence in God’s eternal grace and never ending mercy. I’m sure some readers have seen or heard those phrases a thousand times over. I beg you to clear your brain and read those last two phrases again. What chance does fear have?

“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline." ~2 Timothy 1:7

Fear comes knocking quite often, especially when I'm on my way to new experiences. It whispers in my ear, follows two steps behind, and stops when I try and listen for its footprints. When I get to the door, I could listen to the running dialogue. Or I can remember the power Christ gave me when I accepted him as my savior.

NEEDTOBREATHE’s song “Keep Your Eyes Open” puts it poignantly: “If you never leave home, never let go, you’ll never make it to the great unknown—keep your eyes, open my love.”

Yet there’s still one thing left after all of those things. Belief. Knowing all of these things is important, but it only sinks in as far as I let it. I know Christ gave me the power to be bold. To let go of that support beam and with a smile, make new friends. Putting weight on the bridge of faith over an impassable chasm. I know if I don’t step out onto it, my goal of coming to Australia to challenge myself to be better falls flat. My hope to grow in my walk with Christ is hindered.

Isn’t it a beautiful thing God doesn’t share our shortcomings?

Realizing fear is okay is an amazing breath of fresh air. Understanding failure is a part of learning removes a stigma of dread. Life isn't an exam we fail we answer some questions wrong.

Through the words of Paul, God reminds us in Romans 8:15,

"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!”

My Holy God is with me. My All-Powerful Protector is with me. God is my family—my reminder I have someone to cry to.

Next time a current of fear seems like it's going to tow me out to sea, away from the door of a new opportunity, I'm going to click my heels together three times, praise Him for the breath to say stupid things and make mistakes, and take my shoes off at the threshold.

Then I'll walk right on in.

I'll be praying if you find yourself in a similar situation, you will be able to choose the same.

Cheers!