If I asked you to name the first scary movie you ever watched, would you also say The Wizard of Oz?

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For most people when they think of The Wizard of Oz, they think of technicolor, and the Tin Man, and Toto. But me? I think of the absolutely-horrifyingly-stress-inducing-all-in-less-than-five-minutes tornado scene.

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You know, the part of the movie where the wind picks up, and we’re cutting from Dorothy trying to make it home to Toto struggling to keep up. And all of this was just way too much for five-year old me to take in.

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Not only did The Wizard of Oz make me always skip to when the movie begins in color, but it made me absolutely terrified of tornadoes. Luckily, my family and I were getting ready to move to a place where I was certain tornadoes would never happen.

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After moving from South Carolina to Georgia partway through Kindergarten, I learned within the first week that once a month, the whole school participated in this activity called “Duck and Cover,” which I assumed was just the Georgia version of Duck Duck Goose.

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From what I could gather, this activity would start with an announcement on the intercom, and then every class would go out into the hallway. You would kneel on the ground, face the wall, and then “duck and cover” your head until someone would come back on the intercom and tell you the activity was done.

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I had never in all of my almost-six-years of living played Duck Duck Goose this way, but who was I to judge?

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On the day of our “Duck and Cover” activity, the beep of the intercom came on and while a booming voice was walking us through procedures, I slowly realized we were not about to play a game. We were about to have a tornado drill.

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I didn’t know what a “drill” was, but it could only mean that a tornado would be barreling towards us at any moment.

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The feeling that came over me can only be described as pure panic. It was like time slowed down and the Wicked Witch Theme started playing over the intercom… or maybe that was just in my head.

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My fear of tornadoes only grew the longer we lived in Georgia, and anytime the Weather Channel made even the slightest mention of one, you’d find me glued to the window so I could see what the sky was doing. I’m incredibly thankful that we never actually experienced one, but the fear that was so deeply rooted inside of me came from a place of knowing what a tornado was capable of - destruction, death, grief, loss, etc.

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While tornadoes were my biggest fear growing up, there’s a whole list of things people are scared of. Maybe you’re scared of spiders or public-speaking, or maybe you’re like my husband who can barely climb to the top of our two-step step ladder because of his fear of heights. (I adore you, Pastor Cody.)

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Fear doesn’t only happen because we’re faced with danger or destruction, or even because we’re standing at a window waiting to see what’s going to happen. Fear can also come from a place of reverence, awe, or worship, but either side of that coin requires a response from us.

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So, what does your fear make you do?

When you think of God, do you think of Him like a tornado that you’re having to “duck and cover” from? Do you feel like He only causes destruction and loss, so it’s not even worth it to try and get to know Him more? I mean, it can be really hard to get to know someone you’re scared of.

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Or maybe when you think of God, you know that ever since the Garden of Eden, there is no “duck and cover” when it comes to Him. You know that your fear (or reverence) of God makes you run to Him, not away from Him, because He brings life, not destruction.  

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Our fear of God makes us better lovers of people, His Word, and is the reason we don’t have to be scared of what lies before, during, and after the storm.

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So, again, what does your fear make you do?

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My fear of tornadoes made me hide, but my fear of God makes me feel safe.

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May we be people who walk in holy fear of all God is calling us to today.