Fear | Amy Medina

Two Stones In My Pocket

On May 6, 2022

It’s practically a miracle that I got married.

As a young person, I was colder than Elsa to guys my age. I avoided talking to them at all costs, and when I was forced to, I used sarcasm. In high school, one guy told me that I made him cry and another rebuked me for being mean. These interactions have been embedded in my memory for 30 years because I remember how stunned I was to hear them. In my head, I was a nice person. I never set out to be a jerk.

My harshness was not for lack of attraction; I had as many crushes as the boy-crazy flirt. I was simply terrified of people. I was not timid; I loved being on stage and performing when I had a script telling me exactly what to say at exactly the right moment. Real life gave me no such script.

I gained confidence in college, though even Gil remembers that my first interaction with him was intentionally distant. So it is pretty miraculous that I figured out how to be friendly enough for him to fall in love with me.

I now recognize that my reticence was very much connected to insecurity. Around people my age, I was easily intimidated, and I felt young and insignificant. I was too proud to be nervous and groveling, so it was easier to be cold and sarcastic.

G.K. Chesterton wrote, “It is always the secure who are humble.” My insecurity made me unkind, anxious, unfriendly. As I’ve aged, I see in myself the link between growing more secure and how well I love others.

This American High

By Amy Medina

On March 7, 2022

In Eternity, Fear, Living Like a Missionary

When I was a girl, my most prized possession was my sticker collection. Around age 10, Mom took me to a craft boutique, and I clearly remember the moment I laid my eyes on the most perfect sticker book ever: A photo album with a pink hand-sewn cover, hearts embroidered on top.

My Gram snuck stickers into birthday cards. I peeled every sticker off A+ quizzes. “Trading stickers” was my favorite friend activity, and I relished carefully placing each sticker in that perfect album, gazing upon their colorful, sublime wonder over and over again.

I lay in bed, worrying about fires and thieves and tidal waves, and knew confidently what item I would save first: that sticker book.

A couple of weeks ago, my parents dug out my boxes of childhood treasures from the depths of their garage and brought them to my house. Lo and behold, there was my sticker book.

I look disdainfully at the object of my childhood adoration and see it for what it really is: a book of sticky paper, now browning around the edges. Thirty-five years offer a great deal of perspective.

Last week journalist Mindy Belz tweeted, “Pentecostal leader in Moldova writes of daughter and her family vacating their apartment and moving in with him so Ukrainian refugees can live in her place.”

Would I be willing to do that?

Read These Books

By Amy Medina

On January 21, 2022

In Book Recommendations

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

This book is part biography, part historical, part scientific, and part memoir. It weaves together medical ethics, race in America, the science behind cell lines, and the remarkable story of Henrietta Lacks. It’s an award winner and I wasn’t sure I would like it because I’m not really a science person, but I was entranced.

A Praying Life by Paul Miller

Deeply moving, and the most practical book on prayer I’ve come across. Months after reading it, still it has stuck with me.

I Could Never Do That

By Amy Medina

On May 10, 2021

In A Life Overseas, Fear, Thoughts on Missions

This was written for A Life Overseas, so my audience was missionaries. However, I think it applies to all kinds of hard things God may be asking us to do. It’s not just missionaries who are good at making excuses!

“I could never do that,” she exclaimed. “But that’s because I have kids.”

It was fifteen years ago; I was sitting behind a table at a missions conference, the church members perusing the displays of flags and brochures. She was a young mom, about my age, and was commenting on my husband’s and my decision to move back to Tanzania, long-term.

My internal response was to feel a bit snooty. I wanted to say, “Well, I plan on having kids there, and I’m still doing this.” But I bit my tongue.

I knew better than to judge her, because how many times had I said, “I could never do that” about all sorts of other things? Moving back to Tanzania and raising kids there didn’t feel like a big deal to me because I had been an MK in Africa. But I had told my friend in Mongolia, “I could never live there.” And what about my missionary friend who lived in a remote part of Tanzania, without running water or electricity? Hadn’t the same words slipped out of my mouth?

The Scariest Prayer

By Amy Medina

On April 8, 2021

In Fear

I pray for America.

I pray that this country would be a safe place, that a gunman won’t shoot up my grocery store or my kids’ school, that bad guys in here would be put behind bars and bad guys out there would keep their nuclear weapons to themselves. I pray that we would have leaders with integrity who love freedom and unborn babies and poor people. I pray that earthquakes and droughts and hurricanes will keep their distance, and that America will prosper and flourish.

And more importantly,

I pray that the gospel of Jesus Christ will take root in this land. I pray that millions will bow their knees and give praise to their Creator. I pray for revival, for regeneration, for transformation.

But what if, in order to answer the more important prayer, God must allow

gunmen

nuclear weapons

financial collapse

natural disasters

What if these are the means of answering the more important prayer?

So, even though it scares me, I must pray, Your will be done.

Tag: Fear Page 1 of 7

Two Stones In My Pocket

This American High

Read These Books

I Could Never Do That

The Scariest Prayer