From Fear to Faith

I was a fearful child. My fearful state continued through my teen years until one evening when I was about 19, God began to free me from my prison of fear. 

My parents weren’t fearful people, and my two older brothers certainly weren’t—they seemed to run toward anything that was dangerous.

I don’t know why I was so fearful. I was afraid of storms, afraid of the dark and afraid of people.

A mile in the dark

We lived in the country in southeastern Oklahoma. Rarely was I left at home by myself, but I remember one time when I was about 10.

My mother had a doctor’s appointment about 60 miles from our home, and my father took her. They should have returned before I arrived home from school. My older brothers were playing baseball in another town—so I stepped off the school bus and entered an empty house.

I did my chores and kept watching the road for my parents. We did not have a telephone. As the light faded into darkness, I was home alone! We did not have electricity, but at least I had a kerosene lamp to light up the living room.

Tears flowed as I battled my fears. Around 8:30 p.m. my fear of being home alone got so intense that it became stronger than my fear of the dark. I took off into the darkness—walking and running down the country road to our closest neighbor, who lived a mile away. 

Not long after I got to our neighbor’s home, I saw the lights of my parents’ vehicle. Mom’s appointment had been delayed, and they had car trouble on the way home.

“Don’t let me go”

As I got older, my shyness and fear didn’t really get a lot better. My girlfriends would ask my mother if I could go home with them. I would whisper to my mother, “Don’t let me go.”

By the time I was in high school some of that extreme shyness and fear had lessened, but we lived out in the country and did not travel much beyond the 40 to 50 miles from where we lived. My world was very small.

Change was coming

My mother heard a voice over the radio at the end of World War II when I was about 2 years old—the voice of Herbert W. Armstrong. He spoke of things so different from anything my mother had heard before. She took on the challenge he gave us: “Don’t believe me, believe your Bible.” 

As she studied, she taught my brothers and me what she was learning. There were no local churches teaching what she was learning, so we studied at home on the farm. 

My mother’s dream was for her children to go to Ambassador College in Pasadena, California. If you could understand the financial and physical situation of my childhood, you would know that it really was an “impossible” dream.

“Andrea is going where?”

Strangely, the most fearful of mom’s three older children was the one who went first. Even today, as I think back, I don’t really know how such a thing ever happened to me! It had to be God’s hand. 

All who knew me were incredulous when they heard I was going to California. They would say, “Marie, how can you let her go?”

When my brother Bob found out that I was determined to go, he couldn’t bear to let his “little” sister go alone, so he went with me to Northern California. We stayed with relatives until I left for Pasadena. 

Great blessings

When I stepped onto campus in the fall of 1961, a new world began. I met people of like faith for the first time. I was able to go to church and Bible study for the first time. Classes started, and my personal journey of learning more about God began. Even more importantly, my personal relationship with God and Jesus Christ began.

Loosening the bands of fear

Much happened that first year, but I want to share an event that occurred about 18 months after I arrived at Ambassador College. 

It was Friday night, and in those days we walked about a mile to the Shakespeare Club for Friday night Bible study. All of the students went, but I was sick. 

I lived in an older, two-story dorm. I was very aware that I was alone on the campus when I heard a noise across the alleyway. I peeked out my second-floor window and saw a man trying to break into a classroom. Fear grabbed at me! 

Again, I was alone with no one to call. But this time, I knew how to pray. I knelt by my bed and in great fear cried out to God! As I prayed, the thought came into my mind that if my physical father were here in the room with me, I would not be afraid. 

Then, for the first time, I grasped that God the Father was also my Father. I realized that God was so much more powerful and able to protect me than my physical father. This comprehension filled my mind and brought with it peace and calm.

Fear faded as faith began

That night was a turning point in my life. I can’t say that I have never battled fear again, but now when fear rises up and tries to entangle me I know where to run (Psalm 91:1-4). 

It has been over 50 years since that night. Life is not always easy or worry-free; but no matter what we face, I know that we are safe “under His wings.”

Andrea West lives in Lewisville, Texas, with her husband, Roger. They attend the Fort Worth congregation of the Church of God, a Worldwide Association.