Five little kids call me, “Papa.” They’re my grandchildren. This summer the oldest will turn 11 and the youngest will turn 3. 
When Max, the oldest, joined a soccer team when he was very young…he was paralyzed with fear. That was 7 years ago. I talked about it at the time so I’m not going to relive it here. You can go check it out for yourself. 
I’ve seen displays of fear in each of these kids. What some are afraid of, others are not. Just yesterday one of them picked up a little snake without hesitation. The youngest probably is the most fearless, but he’s even afraid sometimes. 
Type the word “fear” into a Google search and within a second Google delivers about 592 million results. Type in “fearless” and you get about 90% fewer results. Fear is a big player in our lives. Every time I hear somebody preach how we shouldn’t be afraid or I see various motivational sayings about having no fear I think of that line uttered by Robert Duvall’s character in the 1969 classic True Grit. The line was delivered to John Wayne’s character, U.S. marshal “Rooster” Cogburn. “I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man.” 
Only fools are fearless. We’re all afraid sometimes. Of something. Listening to folks brag about having no fear is reminiscent of whistling in the dark. Something else we all do, in one form of another. 
This isn’t about me as much as it’s about us. Our collective humanity. The fact that no matter who we are…we’re afraid, too. Just like my grandkids sometimes are.
My tribe has heard me confess that I’m sometimes fearful. I’m not about to humiliate anybody – especially a small person I love – about their fear. Rather, I choose to acknowledge it. When Max was fearful of joining in on the 4-year-old soccer game we had no idea what he was afraid of. He didn’t appear to know either. He just was. And no about of coaxing him was going to change it at the moment. He had to process it. And he had to mature a little bit. Out on the field, filled with kids running around without a clue what to do, we pointed out how much fun it appeared to be. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to join them. Over time I’ve developed some theories on what scared him, but who can be sure? He’s a smart, confident kid (sometimes downright cocky), but we’ve learned he really wants to know what he’s doing. While others might dive in and give something a go…that’s not how he rolls. He needs to know about it first. Figure out as much as he can before jumping. When he was 4 I don’t think we fully knew that. 
Like my sign in The Yellow Studio says, “It is what it is.” But we didn’t know that at the time.
Peel back who we are and our fears likely make more sense. Even the fears that seem beyond understanding. I’m not trying to dissect your fears, but I am speaking up today to declare to my grandkids – and you – that it’s okay to be afraid. I’m afraid, too. 
Today is Monday, May 7th. It also happens to be my birthday. I’m not 4, or 11. Yep, I’m old enough to have grandkids that age. And I’m still afraid sometimes. Maybe more often than you. Maybe less. Doesn’t matter. It’s not a competition. I’m afraid plenty. 
Fears change. Max isn’t afraid of playing soccer anymore. Now he has different fears. 
I used to be afraid of the dark. I conquered that fear. Now I’m afraid of more serious things, but I can be afraid of stupid things, too. Just like you. 
I can be afraid of rejection, not making a sale,