I knew I might die in the next few minutes. 

Cramped in the dark, we could hear it. All four of us, sitting chest to knees in our small pantry. We could hear it coming closer. 

My feet pressed against my mom’s shoes across from me. My dad’s leg pressed against my right side. On my other side, through the flimsy wooden door, the noise advanced.

It sounded like a round of applause that never ended. A round of applause that could end a life. 

A freight train. A wailing siren. A tornado.

My little sister spoke in a small voice. “Will it hurt to die?”

My little sister spoke in a small voice. “Will it hurt to die?”

“We hope not.” Mom’s strained laugh coincided with my Dad tensing his muscles.

I don’t know why I remember the expressions on their faces. We lost power before then, so it must have been by the glow of phones. 

My phone and computer sat in their own dark places. I’d given up trying to finish my assignment. It didn’t really matter if I missed the due date. 

I’d already responded with upbeat messages to all the friends texting to ask if we were okay. If I died, I wanted to give them the gift of a lighter grief. I wanted faith or humor to be the last thing they heard from me. And then I turned my phone off to face the terror.

I’m ready to die

I braced myself for the terror, but it didn’t come. 

Everything turned to slow motion in my head. Thoughts were snails inching across my brain and I waited for them to come. I’m ready to die, I thought. I don’t have regrets, I’m right with Jesus…it’s okay. 

I almost laughed. I felt…joyful. I said something to lighten the mood for my family (it would’ve been a great time for a Wizard of Oz joke, but I really don’t remember what I said).

And then, like a tidal wave, my brain sped up and the noise crashed in. Louder than the sirens, louder than the tornado winds spinning at 165 mph, I heard it. Terror. 

I felt it too. And when I felt it, I prayed. God, I trust you, God, I trust you, God, I trust you. 

Over and over again I prayed “God, I trust you.” A mantra I really meant and prayer I’d said before. 

I’ve never experienced so much peace and so much terror as I did in that moment. 

I knew I trusted God even if I died. But I still felt the terror. And that’s the thing: trust and fear can co-exist. 

Trust and Fear Can Co-exist in Vulnerability

Do you have a secret or trust issues or turn into a sweat-factory when you try to be vulnerable? I can’t count the number of times fear choked me into silence yesterday. But fear didn’t choke out my trust during the tornado. Why?

Because fear and trust can co-exist. 

Fear and trust can co-exist. 

If you’re afraid when you try to confide in a friend, it doesn’t always mean you don’t trust them. Sometimes it does. Sometimes people are untrustworthy and I’m sorry if you’ve ever experienced that. 

But fear doesn’t negate the existence of trust. Fear doesn’t mean trust isn’t worth giving. 

I learned this in my relationship with God when I started reflecting on the tornado. Now I’m ready to learn it with friends and family. So here’s my question.

Fear and trust can co-exist; which one will you let drive you?

I talk about conquering fear a lot. Here’s the thing, conquering fear isn’t getting rid of it. In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus faced fear. He knew that tomorrow soldiers would hammer nails through his hands and flog him and hang him up on a tree. 

So how did Jesus conquer fear? He didn’t get rid of it because he still sweat blood, right? 

I turned to Luke 22 to find out. It was after Jesus prayed “let your will be done” and an angel came to strengthen him that He started sweating blood. He kept praying. Then he rose and went to the place he’d be arrested. 

Jesus didn’t overcome fear by getting rid of it. He conquered it by keeping pointed towards the goal. He never let it control him.

I’m so tired of fear swallowing up my trust, my friendships, even my ability to speak. I’m tired of fear pushing me to lie when someone asks how I’m doing. I’m tired of fear feeding me the lie that I don’t belong.

Our goal for belonging is good, deep friendships. So let’s take a page from Jesus’ book (the Bible) and keep going despite the fear.

When we’re terrified, let’s trust someone anyway. Let’s allow fear and trust to co-exist, even when death is on the line.