Fear is a Compulsive Liar

Growing up, I was blessed to meet some of my best friends very early on. I met Jenna when she was the wee age of five. I, on the other hand, was a grown-up seven-year-old. I was very much (too much) aware of the vast amount of knowledge and experience I possessed, making me far superior to my younger companion. Therefore, I took it upon myself to impart all that I knew to Jenna, in the form of wisdom, advice, and support. Trust me, she would’ve been completely lost without my guidance through many splinters, scraped-knees, and scary Disney movies. But it was while I believed to be teaching Jenna, that she actually both taught and showed me how to be a true friend. And it is a lesson I am grateful for to this day.

It was during this time that Jenna and I learned a very important lesson together. We had a mutual friend whose predominant fault was being a liar. Granted, at that age, the lies mainly consisted in how much candy she’d eaten, whether she’d completed her homework, and which guy she actually had a crush on. But as we grew into adolescence, the lies grew with her. Jenna in particular, experienced buying into her words, and then being hurt and confused upon the realization that they were false. Before long, we came to the conclusion that she was, in fact, a liar. She was a compulsive liar, meaning it was second nature for her to lie, and she did so without any apparent reason. And as a liar, we could neither believe nor trust what she said. We discovered that once we started viewing her words this way, we started getting hurt less. We started switching our attention to those who spoke truthfully.

Fortunately, our friend out-grew this stage before long. But the impact of what we learned has stuck with me.

How often do we hear lies? I’m no longer referring to lies spoken by other people, but lies that come in the form of fears and doubts to haunt our innermost being. Fears that keep us up at night and cripple us from embracing the joys of our life. The fear of being a failure. The fear of being purposeless. The fear of being a mistake. The fear of being unforgiveable. The fear of being unlovable. And how often, sisters, do we give into these lies and start believing them? How often do we let these lies affect how we act? How often do these fears keep us from trusting and relying in God?

The Gospel of John tells us that the devil “was a murderer from the beginning, and has nothing to do with the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44). My friends, the devil is a compulsive liar. He lies constantly and completely. None of his words should be taken as true.

Whenever these fears arise, I’ve attempted to balance the fear versus the words of Our Lord in the Bible. When I am afraid of the future, I counter it with the fact that God has plans for me, and that He will be with me always (Jeremiah 29:11, Joshua 1:9). When I feel worthless or unlovable, He reminds me that I am wonderfully made and loved by my Heavenly Father (Psalm 139:13-14, 1 John 3:1). Upon examination, many of these fears and doubts are in direct contradiction to the truth of Scripture. Many of these fears are a direct distrust in our Lord and His goodness. The devil wants to lead us away from God. He orchestrates these fears in our hearts by spreading lies which cause us to lose our trust in God. If it results in a lack of trust in God, the fear is not of God. Rather, it is of the devil. He is a compulsive liar.

This is where I wish I could take a lesson from my seven-year-old self. In this area, I was far ahead of my current self when I was an elementary school student. It was crystal clear. If she’s a liar, don’t believe her. If they’re lies, don’t fall for them. If I believe them, I’ll only get hurt. The devil is a liar, so why would I listen?

As a kid, I had a fear of thunderstorms. Jenna hid with me during the worst of it. As a kid, I also had a fear of speaking in public, and getting up in front of people. That, however, was not a fear that Jenna also hid from. That fear was rooted in the fear of being a failure in the eyes of my peers. That fear was not from God. I think we all knew who first whispered that fear. Jenna walked with me and helped me acknowledge that I am worthy, even if I fell on my face in front of all my friends. Some fears are real, and some are not. And if it’s not real, it’s a lie.

Examine your fears. They may be lying to you.