I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.

I’m a mother to a school-aged child, a preschooler with a speech delay, and an infant lately army crawling. Fear, my longtime acquaintance, has now established permanent residency, and it shows up when the soccer ball bounces across the busy street. Or when my daughter returns from school with questions because friends talked of religious beliefs not our own. Fear’s an illusionist, too. What if I fail to fill up the emotional cup of my first grader? What if the speech development never progresses beyond this point? What if the baby finds a chokable toy I missed when cleaning? At night, the faintest cough from the nursery rattles my nerves. In the mornings, holding tight to my coffee cup, my face is not radiant.  

Fear covets attention, and it will do anything to keep mine. In return it offers anxiety and a haggard appearance. But sometimes, in the throes of sheer panic, a song of peace starts somewhere within my soul. It tells of a better way, and, with frayed nerves, I’m willing to try anything for a bit of calm. It’s an old hymn, and its wisdom gleams untarnished. “Turn your eyes upon Jesus/ Look full in his wonderful face/ And the things of earth will grow strangely dim/ In the light of his glory and grace” (Helen Howarth Lemmel). Through the chorus of a century-old song, the Holy Spirit shows up and puts Psalm 34:4-5 to another melody. Kindly, he whispers how to combat my deepest, tangled-up fears.

Jesus longs for our undivided attention, but rather than demanding it, he invites our weary souls to seek him like treasure. His treasure is peace, an invaluable possession in times like these. So how do we respond to this invitation and claim his peace? As Helen’s hymn suggests, we turn from fear and turn to Jesus. In the face of danger, we pray. In the storm of “what if,” we take captive thoughts of fear and worry and hold them up to Jesus (2 Corinthians 10:5). They crumble in his presence. We set our minds on what is true and lovely and worthy of thought, rejecting all else (Philippians 4:8). Because all else is a vain waste of time. And it’s not a one-time act of repentance, but rather a lifestyle lived moment by moment.

God’s way. It offers peace and radiance. “Those who look to him are radiant” (Psalm 34:4-5). Instead of daily wearing the shame born of losing battle after battle to fear, our faces will radiate God’s peace, glory, and grace when we turn to Jesus. This is not to say our fear won’t hang around, hoping to sneak in through the back door. But it will know it doesn’t stand a chance when our souls tune in to that Holy Spirit song gently suggesting we instead turn our eyes upon Jesus.

Lord, help me to turn my eyes to you instead of fear. May you shine so bright that all fear and anxiety fade away. Help me to set my mind on what is pure, lovely, and true. In your Son’s holy name I pray, amen.