A Robust Fear of The Lord

Around the age of 65, I became enamored with the bracket of influencers on social media telling me what fashions would date me, what creams would plump me, and what nutrients would intercept dementia. My algorithms fed me the positives of aging.  I exercised, ate fresh fruits and vegetables, did all sorts of brain games and got lots of fresh air and good sleep, and kept my wardrobe on trend. Aging felt like it was going to be fun to take on!

As I hit 70, the trendsetter solutions started wearing thin. I now had a new knee and had caved from heels to flats, and had purchased a couch based on its inability to be sunk into. I needed stiff furniture to assist my coming and going.  Exercise was beneficial in weight control but nothing could shrinkwrap my loose skin to my body. All the retinol in the world couldn’t correct the effects of gravity on my face, and crepe skin lotion was as regular of a purchase as toothpaste. It became annoying when every doctor's visit included a query of had I fallen recently; as though it's common and they need to know when it starts for you. I felt a little like the Lucy episode where she’s working a conveyor belt of chocolate and couldn’t keep up no matter how many she ate, stuffed, or hid. I was succumbing to the avalanche of physical losses hidden under those trendy clothes and makeup tricks and it messed with me.

Also…what was I to do with my cognitive skips?

That particular loss seemed to have the upper hand, and I now felt as if fear had become an appendage. Nothing made me feel older and drier than being afraid.

When my brain glitched, I went straight to doom. I had lost the full throttle approach I thrived in most of my life. More and more I was pulling back; avoiding things I would normally find fun and exhilarating.

I endured mild hot flashes when I couldn’t pull up regular words. Who doesn’t play charades for words like patio? It dissolved me enough that I gave up being involved with prayer ministry at our church, concerned I would hurt someone’s heart by not calling them by name.

Memory holds our whole world; past, present and future and our words connect our memories to the present. Cognitive loss far outweighed wrinkles, hooded eyes and stability shoes and my spiritual outlook was starting to dissipate. I told myself I was trying to be wise, but my heart told me that fear was wringing the life out of me. I couldn’t control or cure aging but I did want a full life in my last quarter and to me that included having a breezy soul; not a soul in angst over loss of functions.

I’ve always been happiest when I was evolving, growing, changing, shedding, sharing and releasing. Now I had spiritual vertigo and couldn’t sort my world. How could I balance wisdom without letting it morph into fear? How could I feel purposeful without the sneaky suspicion of being put on the shelf? How could I draw closer to God in safety and peace instead of secretly white-knuckling it?

The outgrowth of this fear was paralyzing. I became consumed with the “shoulds.”
“Should we downsize to one floor living or enjoy our three story home?”, “Should we go visit Greece while we still could, or should we save that money for yard and cleaning services later?”. “Should I give family treasures to the grandchildren now, while I could think, or should I take time and label all the meaningful heirlooms with a sticker underneath?”, ”Should I purge everything to the basics before my brain flat-lines?”, and the biggest should…“Should I throw all my energy into shutting everything down for a quiet and peaceful slide over the finish line, or was God calling me to push through and gear up?”

I needed to modulate in life and the first person I had an “Aha!” moment with, which was the lady in Proverbs 31.

She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future. (Prov. 31:25)

She wasn’t depressed and consumed with any circumstances she found in her layered life, but instead flourished in productivity and peace with no fear of the future.

I wanted her gaze.  I needed her gaze.

Her gaze? Why was it fearless regarding her future?

Peace and happiness are potent energy sources and she seemed saturated with them; so much so she had no place for worry.

Verse 30 holds the key.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last, but a woman who fears the Lord will be greatly praised.

There it was. My first ray of refocus. I saw clearly how she laughed at the future.
 A robust fear of the Lord.

What we fear most monopolizes our attention. In my case I feared physical and mental losses more than I feared any distance between me and God.

Once you’ve been profiled by algorithms, you will probably have a peek at your biggest fears. Oddly enough I was getting every new study and breakthrough on medicine, supplements, studies, and findings on Alzheimer’s. The more I read, the more I short circuited my heart. What a sucker punch to realize I feared cognitive decline more than I feared an autopilot relationship with God.

What a lifeline when I relooked at my Proverbs 31 friend who cast such a long shadow over my shortcomings. Tucked neatly at the end of her description is her secret. She is strong and fearless because her number one fear is loss of connection with God; of seeing Him in everything.

She has her fears in order and her fear of God pilots her gaze.

Everything.

God is Emmanuel “God with us” and He is in every layer of our lives.

Ms. Proverbs 31 has her fears in order and her fear of God pilots her gaze.