Do Not Fear

I remember one night several months ago when Michael left soon after Asher went to bed. It was dark outside. I locked the front door and heard his truck pull out of the driveway, tires crunching over the gravel. He would be out late. I probably wouldn't be able to reach him if something unexpected happened. It wasn't an unusual night, but something that night tapped into something deeply hurt. There was a wave of fear, a wave of understanding, a wave of recognition as a feeling of abandonment came over and around me. I knew then there was no longer one person for whom I was the most important.

John and Stacy Eldridge write in their book Captivating about the fear of abandonment that women have, an innate, shared experience for most if not all women - the fear of being left helpless and unprotected. It's illogical. As adult women, we are not helpless and unprotected. I am not helpless and protected. Does the fear arise from something in our childhoods? From an unspoken message about women that we grow up with? Or something much more ancient?

When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves. Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden. But the LORD God called to the man, "Where are you?" He answered, "I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid." And he said, "Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" The man said, "The woman you put here with me—she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it." (Genesis 3:6-12)

The Eldridges point out in their book that Eve's husband was next to her in the beginning of this passage. He was not off in another part of the garden while Eve was speaking with the serpant. He was "with her." Adam, though no doubt under the serpent's influence, abandons Eve to the serpant's deception, watches Eve as she holds the fruit, brings it to her mouth, and bites. Eve eats and then, for a brief but terrible, terrible moment, she is the one and only fallen being in the entire world. Absolutely helpless and unprotected, unaccompanied and forsaken, separated by the utterly world changing choice from all other beings, forlorn and desolate. No doubt Eve felt relief when Adam also ate of the fruit, fear that he wouldn't, and she would be left alone forever. Finally, Eve is abandoned once more, given over by the one she no doubt craved, like an addict for her addiction, to be reunited with when Adam betrays Eve. "She gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it." Adam was with Eve, heard the serpant, and denied his responsibility in his bite. What a scene of abandonment!

Studies indicate that in times of stress and crisis, women tend to gather. In times past, this may have meant that women gathered physically in a group, perhaps surrounding children to keep them safe. In modern times, gathering has become not only physically gathering but phone calling and e-mailing, exchanging and extending support in words and "just being there." We are reflecting pools for one another. We are the replies to the echoes in each others' minds. We are reminders to each other, strong shelterwoods, that though we think and feel it, we are not helpless or unprotected.

The dictionary reminds me that the word "abondonment" has a flip side meaning. There is the negative - left helpless and unprotected - and then the possibility of something otherworldly and wonderful, "giving onself over without restraint." In the negative sense, when we are hurt by abondment, it is passive - something someone does to us. Children are abandoned. We feel abandoned by someone. But, actively, even once abandoned, perhaps especially once abandoned, when our fears have been realized, and we survive and climb out of the hole and find we can still dance and sing and play and gather in each others arms, we can live with abandon, we can dance with abandon, we can laugh and sing and praise and utterly be with abandon. "Do not fear" for God never abandons.