A Prayer for Courage
By Anonymous
Growing up by the Andes, the earth often shook beneath me. At times, the earthquakes were both a diversion and a fun conversation topic: “Where were you and what did you see falling down?” Other times, the conversation revolved around how we each handled our own panic. At school, our desks were made of metal and we had simulations in which we were taught to crawl under our desks and wait for a signal to come out. The desks kept us safe in case the earthquake was strong enough to tear down the building––the metal was strong enough to hold the debris above our heads and it created air pockets for oxygen. Even in the worst case scenario, we would most likely be fine. We were also taught (or trained) that if we were not in our classrooms at the time the earth started shaking, we must look for a corner and tuck our bodies in as tightly as possible. If the ceiling felt, the debris was less likely to fall in our heads and oxygen was more likely available. As much as no one liked earthquakes, we were all taught not to fear them by preparing ourselves for this scary and very unpredictable situation.
These survival lessons not only taught me how to handle an earthquake, they taught me the importance of preparing myself so I could face fear without panic. The physical aspect of having the earth beneath you move and kick you off your feet naturally causes fear, and the normal response is to go into freeze, flight, or fight mode. In simulations, they talk about resisting the urge to run outside or lie on the ground as your instinct pushes your body to hold onto stability. Having control over this reaction takes preparation.
On Christmas Eve 2019, everyone living near the Andes was reminded of the power of the mountains when a 6.2 magnitude earthquake struck. At the time I was abroad, but my family was still there. As I watched the news, I called them and texted them relentlessly but there was no response. As much as my childhood had prepared me on how to react to the worst case scenario created by an earthquake, nothing had prepared me for a situation in which my body was safe but my heart found itself in the epicenter. This time, I felt vulnerable and helpless; I did not have a place to hide and, without any response from my loved ones, it felt worse than the ceiling falling down on me.
For two days I was speechless. I did not tell many around me what was happening because I simply couldn’t mutter the words. Some friends had seen the news and asked how I was, knowing that my family was there. I would answer, “Just praying a lot.” because I could not say more. I told my roommates only because my sobbing was unstoppable. They fed me and prayed with me until I finally got a text from my dad saying. “Pardon the delay, the phone towers went down.” He followed with his distinguishable humor, “It looks like baby Jesus knocked too hard on this inn.” My sense of relief and gratefulness to God was overwhelming.
Situations like this one do not occur often (thank God!) but they do happen and opportunities for despair will accompany them. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived in the Andes and I am starting to forget the feeling of having the ground shake beneath me, but my world does get shaken up every now and then. Life leaves us quite vulnerable at times but, in many ways, that is how God wants us––bare of our earthly securities, clinging only to Him.
Plato defined courage as “knowing what not to fear.” His definition highlights the importance of not succumbing to panic or emotions. On the matter of earthquakes, those living near the Andes are taught to not fear them, not by ignoring the dangerous and unpredictable nature of earthquakes but by preparing ourselves to face them.
Saint John Paul the Great’s classic quote “Be not afraid” is an encouragement and reminder that God’s plan for us is not something to fear either. This saint’s call for courage holds the premise that God has a great plan, so that even in the midst of a tragedy we can have peace, as well as the courage to move forward.
I am sure Edith Stein was scared when the Nazis knocked on her door, and St. Maximiliam Kolbe was likely afraid when he willingly walked into the chamber where he faced death. St. Teresa of Calcutta often spoke about poverty, charity, and her love for Jesus in front of crowds she knew may not understand or would likely mock her.
Would we even know these saints had they not responded courageously to the situations God placed in their earthly lives? They were all scared, but they had the bravery and the peace that made them saints. Ultimately, they were prepared to answer God’s call for them.
God may ask something simpler from you, but I want to encourage you to prepare for it by praying for the courage to fulfill God’s plan for you. Like many other virtues, courage in the small things will prepare you for greater things. It will also help you sort what is worth panicking over and what is not. But, most importantly, courage will equip you with a sense of control over situations that are out of your control. It is the type of control that matters––control on your reaction and well being, without seeking control of the outcome. That belongs to God.
My point is not to tell you to suck it up and not cry, the takeaway of my experience with earthquakes is to prepare; not only by making a practical plan, but by praying for the courage required to face life’s unpredictability and your own vulnerability. As a child, I faced earthquakes courageously––doing what I ought to do and checking on those around me. But on that Christmas Eve, as I wept waiting for signs of life, I did not feel courageous at all. God allows those moments of fragility to practice true courage––doing what we can and trusting Him with the outcome, remembering that in the midst of despair there’s a comfort and peace only He can provide.
