When Fear Loosened Its Grip

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There are places so beautiful they almost don't seem real. Costa Rica is one such place.

One afternoon on our vacation, I found myself staring across a bay that looked more like a painting than a real place. I kept looking because my brain couldn't quite convince itself it wasn't looking at a canvas.

The day before, I found myself standing on the upper deck of a boat in one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen. I stood next to the captain with the breeze whipping around me, simply taking it all in. 

Not long into our forty-five minute journey to Tortuga Island, a pod of dolphins joined us, darting playfully all around the catamaran. As we sliced through the beautiful blue-green water, several raced just ahead of the two hulls, weaving in and out as if they were playing a game. Others leaped through the wake behind us. It was one of those moments I knew I'd never forget.


For a little while, I wasn't thinking about what might happen. I was simply taking in what was happening.

Boats have always made me anxious. Flying is worse, but boats are a close second. Before this trip, I packed Bonine for the boat and Xanax for the flight. I expected I'd spend the boat ride counting down the minutes until we reached shore.

Instead I stood on the upper deck beside the captain.

A few people even suggested I go downstairs where the ride would be smoother. They assumed I was trying to avoid getting sick. The truth was, I didn't want to leave.  

It felt as though the Holy Spirit had me by the hand, keeping fear from taking hold. The anxious feeling that usually settles into my chest—the one that so often makes me expect the worst—never came. My body felt unusually calm.

The peace wasn't all-encompassing. Family dynamics were still complicated. I still found myself praying for patience. But fear—the kind I know so well—didn't seem to have the same grip on me last week. 

Maybe this wasn't the end of my struggle with fear. Maybe it was the first time I noticed that fear wasn't holding on as tightly as it once had. 

Looking back, I don't think this peace began in Costa Rica. I think that's just where I finally noticed it.

Perhaps that's how God often changes us. Not all at once, but quietly enough that we don't notice until one day we find ourselves standing in the wind, watching dolphins, wondering when fear stopped calling all the shots.

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