Why Love and Fear Both Show Up in the Human Experience

One of the questions I’ve wrestled with for years is:

If God is love, where does all fear come from?

Not just great fear. We talk about various things in everyday life.

Fear of being misunderstood.

The fear of people waking up at 3 a.m. and repeating conversations that ended three days ago.

If you’ve ever stared at the ceiling and wondered why your brain suddenly decided to host a worst-case scenario festival, welcome. Pull up a chair.

I’ve spent most of my life exploring spirituality, faith, mindfulness, meditation, and the strange realms of being human. The longer I walk down this path, the less I am interested in certainty and more interested in curiosity.

Because life rarely unfolds in neat little boxes.

Instead, we often present what I call the “divine dichotomy.”

The divine dichotomy is the apparent contradiction between the unconditional love that many spiritual traditions describe and the fear-based emotions that many of us experience every day.

On the other hand, almost every wisdom tradition teaches some version of the same truth.

Love is our deepest nature.

Humans do get angry.

Sometimes we even convince ourselves that one awkward text message means the collapse of society. You may find the contrast difficult to understand.

If love is a deeper truth, why does fear seem to speak so loudly?

Over time, I have come to believe that fear is not a sign that we are failing spiritually.

It’s proof that we are human.

For years, I thought spiritual growth was about getting rid of fear.

I think there is too much emphasis on fear these days.

Fear sometimes follows mud on the carpet.

But fear does not own property.

When we stop treating fear as an enemy and start seeing it as a teacher, the divine dichotomy begins to make more sense.

I’m not always a fun teacher.

Rather, it’s like a substitute teacher who suddenly comes in and gives pop quizzes that no one has studied.

Still, there’s a lesson there.

Fear often points to where healing is needed.

Old beliefs that no longer serve us.

Love is not ashamed of those places.

Note that I didn’t say perfect.

I have yet to meet a person who responds to every challenge with saintly calm while birds sing Disney songs from nearby tree branches.

Most of us are just doing our best.

Some days I react out of love.

Some days I react out of fear.

Most days include a little bit of both.

The goal is not perfection.

The moment I realize I am acting out of fear, I have a choice.

You can continue to feed them.

Or you can quietly turn your attention to something bigger.

It’s not because the fear disappears quickly.

But because love also deserves a seat at the table.

Perhaps the dichotomy of God is not a problem to be solved at all.

Perhaps it is part of the human experience itself.

It is through fear that we learn courage.

It is because of suffering that we learn compassion.

It is because mistakes exist that we learn to forgive.

And we learn the depth of love because we know what it feels like to be separated from love.

The older I get, the more I am convinced that God doesn’t wait until we are perfect before extending His love to us.

God is already present in the midst of our confused humanity.

In a moment, we get it right.

And there are moments when it’s not.

Perhaps that is the greatest consolation of all.

Fear doesn’t go away.

Like sunlight shining through a stained glass window.

No matter how dark the room may seem.

Keep your feet on the ground, keep growing, and look at nonsense a little sideways.

In the dance of emotion, God waltzes through our fear-based experiences and turns shadows into shining lights of understanding.

In the arena of life, God acts as a benevolent director, transforming taught fears into powerful catalysts for growth.

Patience, a divine virtue, paints a mural of understanding on the walls of our restless hearts.

In the grand tapestry of existence, God weaves threads of love and fear into a masterpiece of self-discovery.