Those who know your name trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you. (Ps 9:10)

My fear of clowns began in 1982 when I was five years old. For Halloween that year, my mom, who designed and sewed many of my clothes, made me a clown costume. I can still remember how thrilled I was. It was so cute – a little red costume with a frilly white collar, frilly white cuffs at the feet, and bright yellow buttons. I couldn’t wait to wear it trick-or-treating.

On Halloween, we made the rounds through town, and the neighbors filled our buckets with all sorts of candy. They oohed and awed over my costume, so I knew I looked fabulous. Our last stop was my grandparents’ house. It was fully dark by that time. My brother, who was just a toddler, crawled around the floor while my mom and grandma visited. I decided I needed to catch a glimpse of myself in this awesome costume for which I had received so many compliments.

There was a mirror in the dining room hanging above my grandma’s desk, so I ran over and ducked down so that I couldn’t see myself in the mirror. I wanted the full surprise of seeing what I looked like. I slowly lifted up on my tip toes…

And I quickly ducked again. Who was that in the mirror? That certainly wasn’t me – I had seen myself, and I didn’t have bright, curly red hair or a white, painted face with a red nose. I raised up again, but that stranger was still there! I turned away, determined not to look in the mirror again. If I didn’t look, then that meant the stranger in the mirror wasn’t there.

My mom could sense something was wrong, but there was no way I was going to tell her what I’d seen and scare her, too. I was too young to understand that really was me, just dressed in costume.

This may seem like a silly story from my childhood, but to me, it illustrates how easily we can let our imaginations run wild and let fear lead. If only I had said something to my mom, she would have wiped off my face paint and removed my wig so that I could see I was still me underneath, and the reflection in the mirror was just that – a reflection and nothing to fear.

Have you ever been afraid of something, only to find out later that what you were afraid of simply wasn’t true or even real? Perhaps, like me, you’ve faced situations in which you focused on the worst-case scenario, only to have nothing of the sort happen. In fact, the situation worked out in the best possible way.

I have let unrealistic fears and anxiety lead the way many times over the years. It comes down to trust – do I trust God with my life, my hopes, and my dreams? Trusting God doesn’t come naturally for me, even though I’ve seen evidence of his protection time after time. My human nature and my desire for control rear their heads and try to take over, convincing me to solve the problem on my own.

Sometimes things don’t turn out the way I want, and quite often they turn out in a way that I didn’t plan. I’m learning to take my fears to God sooner rather than later, but I’m far from perfect at this. Most of the time, I’m not even very good at it. It’s a daily – sometimes hourly – struggle. Even so, God continues to beckon me to give him all my fears, all my hopes, and all my dreams. I’m learning what it means to trust him completely.

Dear Jesus, thank you for taking my fears and anxiety. Help me learn to put my trust in you even when things don’t turn out the way I’d planned. Help me to remember all the ways you’ve protected me and shown me grace and mercy in the past. Amen.