Running Scared: Fear, Worry, & the God of Rest
Book Review • Edward T. Welch, Running Scared: Fear, Worry, and the God of Rest (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2007). Kindle Edition. 328 pp. $14.
Read time: 19 min
Like malware in a hard drive, sinful and irrational fears run with impunity through circuits of the human mind. This is not to say that every type of fear is sinful or even disadvantageous. That is, “the fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge” (Prov 1:7). God created humans with reverential awe of God’s infinite power, goodness and wisdom. But this godly fear, by sin, degenerated into carnal terror leading to concealing, running, and blaming as soon as our first parents broke faith with God. Ever since the Fall, sinful and irrational fears have plagued the human mind. In this review, I will interact with Running Scared, written by biblical counselor, Ed Welch. I will note how he both describes common presentations and root causes of fear and suggests a remedy in the knowledge of God.
What Fear Says When It Speaks
This first section considers the experience of fear. It will introduce the idea that since our fears, worries, and anxieties are not silent, we should use them as windows into the soul to reveal what errant beliefs, disordered desires, and sinful commitments lurk undetected.
Fear as a Universal Experience
The experience of fear is universal and not without cause. In Adam, we all partake of a fallen nature and its accompanying brokenness: “death was passed on to all men, because all sinned” (Rom 5:12). In chapter 1, Welch observes that in a fallen world “fear is natural to us. We don’t have to learn it. We experience fear and anxiety even before there is any logical reason for them” (19). Contrary to an alternative assumption that fear arises from outside of us, from unfavorable circumstance, Welch notes that both oppressive and luxurious circumstances can breed their own flavor of fear within us. It is as if regardless of our surroundings, many of us naturally relate to our world, in part, by fear. “With freedom come more choices, which mean more opportunities to get it wrong. Freedom or oppression—pick your poison. They both contribute to our fears and anxieties” (20–21). Whether a child or an adult, whether poor or affluent, and irrespective of sex or ethnicity, fear is a fruit of the Fall that befell us all.
Common Presentations of Fear
The more we love something, the more we fear its loss (28). Fear can take numerous shapes: specific phobias that may appear even in our dreams (e.g., the death of a loved one, public humiliation, etc.), or general anxieties betrayed physiologically by sweaty palms and a host of other autonomic, fight or flight responses. As fears and anxieties wear on us, we may experience stress, depression, anger, or overprotectiveness. To cope, we may display avoidant “flight” behaviors, or on the other end of the spectrum tend towards the “fight” of anger, busyness, or being driven to succeed (29–34).
What Fear, Anxiety, and Worry Tell Us
Fear is not silent. When fear whispers in our ears, Welch suggests, it reminds us that we are in danger, that we are vulnerable, that we have needs that may not get met, that we may lose something of great value to us (38–46). Rather than simply try to block out such messages, we should listen at a deeper level to what they reveal about our hearts: “Review some of your fears,” Welch advises, “and ask: What do these fears say I trust in? What do my fears say I love?” (48).
Worry not only speaks, it prophesies. Those given to “worry” (that is, expectation of future calamity that darkens the present) may be said to be
visionaries minus the optimism. . . . When they travel into the future, they see it in Technicolor and vivid detail. Before they go for a routine physical, they can hear the doctor pronouncing the dire diagnosis. They see the twisted metal of the imagined car accident. . . . They hear the pastor saying ‘dust to dust’ at a spouse’s graveside service. They see the house sold and watch the grieving children console themselves in drug abuse (50–51).
Nonetheless, the truth is that the sum of our fears rarely comes to pass as predicted. Such is the tragedy of worry: it spends the precious capital of the present on future stocks that nearly always plummet. We waste our moments preparing (if only mentally) for scenarios that seldom unfold and for which worry itself is not the appropriate preparation. Welch admits that “habitual worry or anxiety could suggest a genetic cause. It seems to fit the criteria: . . . it resists change, it happens even when we don’t want it to, reasonable counsel doesn’t help, and inveterate worriers can usually be found somewhere in the family tree. Some medications even take the edge off” (53). But even a genetic disposition must not cause us to dismiss spiritual factors. Psychological and physiological troubles may (and do) plague us on this side of the New Creation, but we can choose to respond in either faith or unbelief towards God’s promised grace. So, as always, we should take “a hard look at [ourselves] instead of [our] circumstances when worry is blaring,” that we may properly “face the reality that we have to go outside ourselves for an answer and seek the God who is in control” (53).
The Foundation for Overcoming Fear
In Section 2 of Running Scared, Welch anchors our plan for progress in the battle against fear to a true and intimate knowledge of God. He focuses on how God’s trustworthiness is central to victory over fear, how God promises us the grace sufficient to respond in faith to each trial, and how he precisely times his deliverances for our good.
Knowledge of God as Antidote to Fear
In chapter five, Welch proposes: “let fear point us to the knowledge of God, and let the Spirit of God, by way of Scripture, teach us the knowledge of God” (64). He calls attention to the fact that most often when we struggle with fear, we lay out action steps designed to displace fearful thoughts with platitudes or distracting activities. That is to say, we too easily turn to mental techniques instead of to God himself and what he has revealed about himself. I found this proposal refreshing. While I had previously read this idea put forward in Welch’s When People Are Big and God Is Small, I am guilty of doing what he describes as a common therapeutic technique in both Christian and secular circles. Reciting Scripture, or positive affirmations against fear, for example, rightly follow a true knowledge of God (64). They neither replace nor precede the pivotal role of coming to know God more deeply as Father, Shepherd, Almighty God, Prince of Peace, and the God of all comfort.
God Is Worthy of Trust in Times of Fear
Scripture reveals God as abundantly trustworthy. Many Christians know that God rules on high, that his purposes stand, and that he accomplishes all his pleasure (Isa 46:9–11). But do we associate his sovereign power with despotism? Scripture denies such a conception. What tyrant would, among the multitude of commands God issues in the Bible, mandate more than any other single command, “Do not fear”? No dictator labors to quell the fears of those living under his rule. In fact, tyrants maintain rule by fear. Yet God reveals himself as adamantly concerned that we are not a people given to fear, anxiety or worry. Even the fear of God, as briefly referenced above, has far more love than terror in it. As we mature in love, the apostle John affirms, “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18). To overcome unholy fear, one must know God as sovereign Lord of all and know him in such a way that to know him is to love him, trust him and live assured of his concern for our well-being.
Jesus assured us, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). Welch draws from this citation that in addition to reverent titles, such as, Lord of Hosts, Mighty God, King of kings and Lord of lords, Scripture presents God as our Father, who delights to give what is best for us. As Father and benevolent King, God delights to give us the kingdom, extending its blessings and benefits. By contrast, do even the best of human kings delight to share their authority, their family title? Yet God delights to reconcile rebels and make them kings and priests (Rev 1:6). The Apostle Paul, in Colossians 1:12–14 gave “thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” A more beloved, benevolent, and trustworthy King, indeed, cannot be imagined. So, Welch tells, “The more you read Scripture, the more you actually talk to God rather than think about fear” (70).
Daily Grace for Daily Need
In chapter six, Welch discusses the “Manna Principle.” He explains that God is fundamentally a God who hears. When his children call to him from a point of need, he cannot but hear and move to deliver them. God took Israel through a wilderness to teach them that they could not live without God. He did this primarily by the daily gift of manna in the barren desert, which proved both their constant need and God’s trustworthiness to provide. God teaches us the same lesson by sending trials of faith along the way. By trials I mean that God allows our circumstances to overwhelm us so that we either trust God to deliver us or turn in desperation to some other solution. Welch helpfully demystifies God’s motive in sending trials our way, as he writes, “God tests us because we are so oblivious to the mixed allegiances in our hearts. The purpose of the test is to help us see our hearts, and if they are found traitorous, we can turn back to God. God is not playing mind games with us; he is forging a relationship” (75–76). Plainly put, if God sent incessant provision in such a way that we never had reason to doubt that we may survive, we would have no need for a relationship with God. So long as we had his gifts, we would be content to go about our lives thinking that we exist for selfish pleasure, productivity, or personal fulfillment. However, when God brings us to an end of ourselves, as he often did to stubborn Israel after the Exodus account, he shakes us from self-focus and from the illusion of self-sufficiency. The Manna Principle gives direction to our fears and worries: they should push us deeper into the arms of our all-sufficient Father.
God Sometimes Delays Deliverance to Deepen Our Faith
In chapter seven, Welch writes of “The God of Suspense.” From our vantage point, it can seem as though God withholds his provision until the last possible moment. The truth is, however, that God is always working, even if he delays until the “eleventh hour” to allow us to see his deliverance (82). Scripture abounds with stories of seemingly last-minute rescues that put faith in God maximally to the test. From Israel backed against the Red Sea with Pharaoh’s armies bearing down to Naaman’s seventh dip into the Jordan River, God tests our faith most when we have exhausted all options, and final deliverance can only be attributed to God. Paul echoed this truth: “we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead” (2 Cor 1:8–9). Despair even of life, in Paul’s words, beckons us to hope in God, for this is one of God’s purposes in “delaying” deliverance.
The Only Thing to Fear is Fear Itself
In chapter eight, Welch focuses on the folly and danger of worry. Far from being benign, worry is generally a seductive and destructive force in our lives. Jesus included worry in a short list of suffocating “thorns” of the soul. Some “hear the word; but the worries of this life . . . come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful” (Mark 4:19). Worry darkens eyes and dulls ears to the Word of God. So, Welch confides, “At first, my interest in fear and worry was limited to quieting them for the sake of my own personal well-being. Now the stakes are much higher. My worry is a sign that I am in danger” (100). In that worry parasitically drains the life of its host, we have no option but to give earnest effort to overcome it in our lives.
Fear of People and Their Judgments
In the final section of this review, I will apply Welch’s thesis to a very common fear: the fear of human rejection. This fear may extend beyond actual social judgment to an industrious perception of judgment where there is none. Such is the fear of being scrutinized and found lacking.
The Comparison Trap
Too often, we compare ourselves by ourselves, a two-edged sword that serves us poorly. If we evaluate ourselves as superior to someone else, we are tempted to pride and a bloated sense of competency. This may result in arrogance towards those deemed “lesser.” If we evaluate ourselves as lesser by comparison to someone else, we are tempted to insecurity, envy, a spirit of competition, discouragement, or self-loathing. Paul castigated those, who “when they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another . . . are without understanding;” and he himself determined, “We do not dare to classify or compare ourselves with some who commend themselves” (2 Cor 10:12). Paul grounded his identity and sense of accomplishment, rather, in the “well done” he expected to hear from his Lord (2 Tim 4:8; cf. Matt 25:21). Knowing we all will “appear before the judgment seat of Christ . . . [to] receive what is due for what [we have] done in the body, whether good or evil,” Paul preoccupied himself intensely with pleasing God and not man (Gal 1:10; 1 Thes 2:4).
Fear of Man
Welch summarizes the root of such fear of man in this way: “Why are we afraid? Because people have something we want, and we are not sure we can get it” (177). Importantly, he qualifies that “there is nothing wrong with wanting to be loved or wanting a good reputation. We should want both. It would be inhuman not to [do so]. . . . The problem comes when we want these things too much, when we want them for our own glory rather than God’s” (178). Here is the crux of the matter for many of us. When we crave human acceptance, approval, or praise, we fixate on the goal of being glorified in the eyes of man. In those moments, we care little what people think of God. This breed of fear, then, loves neither God nor neighbor but only self. Such fear arises from overvaluing human approval and underappreciating the only opinion that ultimately matters.
Repenting of Fear of Man
Repentance begins by verbally confessing to God the disordered nature of our beliefs, desires, and actions leading to sinful fear of man. Confession gives way to declaring the truth that God alone deserves the weight of fear and awe too often ascribed to man (Isa 8:13). The approval of our Lord alone warrants our utmost fear, love, and hope. Welch ends chapter fifteen surmising, “There’s that question again that undergirds so much worry: Why am I so concerned about me?” (180). When overcome with fear because others are not confirming our own self-conceptions of being smart, attractive, or funny, we are consumed with self. So, Welch aptly recommends growth in humility. We must surrender shallow dreams enslaved to fickle human opinion and embrace anew the self-effacing call of New Covenant ministry in all our relationships. The passion of the New Covenant minister is that others see “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake” (2 Cor 4:4–5). Thus, in the intimate knowledge of God’s love and acceptance, we are freed from fearing what humans may think of us. ❖
