Exhilaration in Times of War.

Often times, I find myself afraid.  Paralyzed by all-consuming worries of “what-if” scenarios.  And if we’re honest, I bet often times, you yourself find that being afraid is a common occurrence.

            In the years preceding World War II, the British government was bombarded by “what-if” fears. 

What if the German Air Force launches a major air offensive against London?

What if there is nothing we can do to stop an attack?

What if, in the event of war, London witnesses a quarter of a million civilian deaths and injuries just in the first week of a German attack?

What if the remaining three- to four-million survivors flee to the countryside as the mass experiences an overwhelming, uncontrollable panic?

As the British government mentally ran these “what-if” scenarios, they realized that, in the event of war, if London was attacked, not only would they be dealing with thousands of deaths and life-threatening injuries, they would also be dealing with mass panic.  Mass panic would result in people fleeing to the refuge of the countryside.  People would refuse to go to work.  Industrial production would halt indefinitely.  The British army would be so consumed with keeping the population calm that they would be useless against the Germans.  England would be destroyed, wiped-out, nothing more but another war story to be told by unreliable history books.

            Debating these “what-if” concerns, the British realized that, in the event of war, their greatest enemy was not the German Air Force, but fear.

Isn’t this too often the case with us as well?  Oh, how I can relate!  Too often, my fears revolve around being afraid.  I’m not worried about the event, I’m worried about how I will respond to the event. 

When I can’t sleep at night because of the pain that inevitably comes with multiple sclerosis, will I respond in tears and frustration or will I courageously raise my hands and praise the God who saw it good for me to be given this lot?

When I find myself on a strange college campus at a new school where I don’t know a soul, will I step out of my comfort zone and reach out to those around me or will I cower in a corner and isolate myself until I am miserably lonely?

When my boyfriend breaks up with me and I don’t know why, will I shake a fist at the sky and tell myself lies about my worth or will I fall into the arms of Jesus and quiet my soul to hear the loving whispers of my heavenly Groom?

When I am faced with a seemingly hopeless, unendingly painful, discouragingly frustrating circumstance, I am not so much scared of the circumstance in question, but rather, I am terrified of the fear that lurks like a shadow in every corner of my circumstances.

            In the fall of 1940, the long-anticipated German attack began.  Fifty-seven consecutive nights of thousands of thundering bombs exploded across London as the German Air Force stepped onto the stage.  Throughout the next eight months, forty thousand people were killed; forty-six thousand Londoners were injured; a million buildings were transformed into piles of rubble; entire neighborhoods were wiped out.  Overnight, London as the British knew it became unrecognizable.  But the long-anticipated mass panic never came.  To the British authorities’ astonishment, the same civilians who were expected to crowd into psychiatric hospitals as the terrors of war left them mentally unstable were the same civilians who were displaying an odd sort of courage.

            From the diary of a young woman in 1940::

“[While my house was shaken by a nearby explosion], I lay there feeling indescribably happy and triumphant.  ‘I’ve been bombed!’  I kept saying to myself, over and over again – trying the phrase on, like a new dress, to see how it fitted.  ‘I’ve been bombed! . . . I’ve been bombed – me!’

It seems a terrible thing to say, when many people were killed and injured last night; but never in my whole life have I ever experienced such pure and flawless happiness.”

            Why were these Londoners, who had every reason and every right to cower in fear, so unfazed by the catastrophic attacks?  J. T. MacCurdy, a Canadian psychiatrist, explains,

“We are all of us not merely liable to fear, we are also prone to be afraid of being afraid, and the conquering of fear produces exhilaration. . . .  When we have been afraid that we may panic in an air-raid, and, when it has happened, we have exhibited to others nothing but a calm exterior and we are now safe, the contrast between the previous apprehension and the present relief and feeling of security promotes a self-confidence that is the very father and mother of courage.”

            We are all of us . . . prone to be afraid of being afraid.  Because England had never been bombed before, they all assumed that the experience would be terrifying.  But what scared them the most was their prediction about how they would react to the fear.  Would they panic?  Would they flee?  Would they be so traumatized that they had to be admitted into psychiatric hospitals?  Then the skies opened up, releasing a hailstorm of German bombs, and one-by-one, Londoners came to realize that their fears had been overblown.  They hadn’t died; they had only been a little shaken by the blow.  They were fine.  And what happened then?  The conquering of fear produces exhilaration.

            Through the circumstance of war, the surviving Londoners were exhilarated as they realized that they were safe.  Their fears had been nothing more than overblown “what-ifs.”  They were fine.  And as night after night, the bombs continued to rain down on them, they realized they were safe, and their invincibility was exhilarating!

           

            We all experience trials.  We all have our own German Air Force flying around our heads, waiting for the perfect moment to release the catastrophic, terrifying bombs into our lives.  A lost job, a sick child, a heartbreaking divorce, the death of a loved one, a chronic illness, a failing grade, and the list goes on and on and on.  It’s the common thread of humanity – we are bound to experience war in our lives.

“In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Like the Londoners, when we anticipate tribulation, we become fearful of fear itself.  The “what ifs” run through our minds like a mini hailstorm of bombs, giving us a preview of the actual war that is promised to come.  But then the sky opens up, the bombs begin to fall, leveling the buildings around us, and we have a choice.  We can either turn and flee to our own devices of protection, or we can stay and find refuge in the God who has already won the war.

As we choose to find rest in our Savior, the bombs are quieted, and ground grows still, and the sky swallows up the remaining war planes.  We chance a peak outside.  Our homes are still standing; we are still alive; we are fine.

When the war inevitably comes and the bombs whirl all around us, we can choose to run to the countryside and hide until the war ends, or we can choose to be the lady who rested in her bed while the German attack sounded around her.  “I’ve been bombed – me!” she exclaimed.  She was exhilarated!  A little crazy…but she was better off for the war as her survival instilled in her a kind of courage that can only be found in peace through a storm. 

In the same way, when the war comes and we choose to find rest – and yes, even “pure and flawless happiness” – in the One who has already won the war, we are better off for the trial.  For we become courageous!

“Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you.  He will not leave you nor forsake you.”

Deuteronomy 31:6

When we have been through the war and have survived, we realize that with God as our shield and as our strength, we have nothing to fear and every reason to be joyful.  As our Lord conquers each and every one of our fears, may it thus produce in us a holy exhilaration!

“My heart is glad, and my glory rejoices;

My flesh also will rest in hope.

For You will not leave my soul in [the grave]. . .

You will show me the path of life;

In Your presence is fullness of joy.”

Psalm 16:9-11