If you know me, you know that one of my all-time favorite movies is the Pixar classic Finding Nemo. The main character, Marlin, is a clownfish who, ironically, is afraid of the ocean. After witnessing the death of his wife and all but one of his children, his trauma response to the unknown is understandable. When his son Nemo gets taken by a diver, Marlin embarks on a journey across the ocean in search of his son. He presses through his fear to accomplish a seemingly impossible task, which he did not achieve alone. Marlin’s friend Dory walked with him through the entire journey, reminding him to “just keep swimming” when he was feeling most defeated. Marlin’s fear was strong, but his love for his son was stronger than his fear.

In the climax of the movie, when Marlin and Dory are inside the whale, Marlin’s fears come rushing back full force. In an emotional scene, he confides in Dory that he fears he will never find his son. He believes he broke his promise Nemo, the promise he made to protect his son when he discovered Nemo was the only surviving egg.

Throughout the journey, we see how Marlin’s fears of the ocean manifest in an inability to trust and rely on other fish, believing he has to do everything on his own. Dory doesn’t fully know what will happen next, but she convinces Marlin to trust the whale, and physically let go of the whale’s tongue. Metaphorically, Marlin learns to let go of his fear of the unknown about the remainder of the journey, his relationship with his son, and the future.

This movie illustrates the relationship between fear and love in the context of a parent and child relationship. A loving parent wants to protect their child, prevent them from feeling pain, and give them every chance to succeed in life. This is a good desire, but when the desire to protect becomes overpowering, it can prevent the child from flourishing. Healthy children need protection from danger and harm, but they also need opportunities to make mistakes, suffer consequences, and learn boundaries.

An overwhelming desire to shelter and protect often stems from the parent’s fears, and fear is a strange animal. Our concept of fear changes throughout our lives, from childhood to adulthood. Some fears follow us for years or decades, eager to render us immobile through spiritual and emotional paralysis. When we experience hurt, pain, or trauma, the healing of those scars often involves fear, because we are scared to feel that pain again. In his book Boundaries, Henry Cloud writes, “We are ultimately responsible for what we do with our injured, immature souls,” (p. 180).

We have a choice in this situation – one option is to let those past experiences define us, allowing fear to have mastery over our lives. The alternative is acknowledging the pain of your past, but choosing to resist the fear that wants to keep you captive. You can acknowledge your fear and press through it, with the hope of finding greater strength and healing on the other side. One of the amazing stories in the Bible about fear and hope can be found in the gospel of Matthew, when the disciples went out on a boat in a storm:

“Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” “Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” (Matthew 14:22-36)

We don’t know what Peter was going through at this point in his life, or what prompted him to make this bold request. We don’t know if his tone was challenging or curious and inquisitive. He had to be shouting to be heard over the wind and the waves. Peter asks and Jesus works the miracle; he’s literally walking on water. But within seconds, he sees the raging water, feels the buffeting wind, and begins to sink. Peter calls out to Jesus right away and “immediately” Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him. Peter knew that if he relied on his own strength, he wasn’t going to survive. Jesus has the power not only to save Peter, but also to calm the raging wind and waves.

The image of Peter starting to sink is one that resonates with me deeply. When I experience fear, it feels like I am sinking in the ocean. As the relentless “What if?” questions, worries, and anxious thoughts swirl around me, I feel the heavy hand of fear pressing me down. Sometimes I have the strength to fight against fear and press through it, other times I feel like I don’t have the strength to fight back.

At my point of greatest weakness, it would be easy to succumb to fear and let the waves pull me under. When it would be easiest for me to give up, I see a hand reaching down to pull me up. I grasp the strong hand and discover that it is Jesus, the one who never left me. Jesus, the God who sees me. Jesus, whose strength is made perfect in my weakness.

In her book Love Lives Here, Maria Goff writes, “Fear delights in our attempts to avoid or ignore it. The antidote that gives us the buoyancy to rise above our fear is found in love and hope and the kind of peace we don’t try to manufacture but experience in courageous gratitude.” (p. 149)

The love of God is stronger than fear, which is one of the greatest weapons used by Satan to separate, isolate, and destroy. When we fill our lives with God’s love and truth, we gain strength to drown out the lies Satan whispers in our ear. We gain a new perspective, seeing ourselves in light of God’s truth, instead of by fears that fight to define us. 1 John 4:8 says “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” Perfect love comes from God, and we have the freedom to experience that love eternally, regardless of our circumstances. As children of God, we are no longer slaves to our fears. We have been set free to walk in the light of life.