How Should a Christian Fear the Lord?

This is from John Piper's book “The Pleasures of God”
and is too good not to share.

To summarize, the fear of the lord is not nervousness or anxiety or uncertainty, but confident awe and wonder and amazement from a place of safety, a place you want to stay.

Piper writes:
FEAR AND HOPE AT THE SAME TIME
Does it strike you as strange that we should be encouraged to fear and hope at the same time and in the same person? "The LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love." (Ps 147:11)

Do you hope in the one you fear and fear the one you hope in? It's usually the other way around: if we fear a person, we hope that someone else will come and help us. But here we are supposed to fear the one we hope in and hope in the one we fear. What does this mean?

I think it means that we should let the experience of hope penetrate and transform the experience of fear. In other words, the kind of fear that we should have toward God is whatever is left of fear when we have a sure hope in the midst of it.
GREENLAND GLACIER
Suppose you were exploring an unknown glacier in the north of Green-land in the dead of winter. Just as you reach a sheer cliff with a spectacu­lar view of miles and miles of jagged ice and mountains of snow, a terrible storm breaks in. The wind is so strong that the fear rises in your heart that it might blow you over the cliff. But in the midst of the storm you discover a cleft in the ice where you can hide. Here you feel secure. But, even though secure, the awesome might of the storm rages on, and you watch it with a kind of trembling pleasure as it surges out across the distant glaciers.

At first there was the fear that this terrible storm and awesome terrain might claim your life. But then you found a refuge and gained the hope that you would be safe. But not everything in the feeling called fear vanished from your heart. Only the life-threatening part. There remained the trembling, the awe, the wonder, the feeling that you would never want to tangle with such a storm or be the adversary of such a power.

And so it is with God. In the same Psalm we read, "He gives snow like wool; he scatters hoarfrost like ashes. He casts forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before his cold?" (vv. 16-17). The cold of God is a fearful thing—who can stand against it! And verses 4–5 point to the same power of God in nature: "He determines the number of the stars, he gives to all of them their names. Great is our LORD, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure."

In other words, God's greatness is greater than the universe of stars, and his power is behind the unendurable cold of arctic storms. Yet he cups his hand around us and says, "Take refuge in my love and let the terrors of my power become the awesome fireworks of your happy night-sky."

The fear of God is what is left of the storm when you have a safe place to watch right in the middle of it. And in that place of refuge we say, "This is amazing, this is terrible, this is incredible power; Oh, the thrill of being here in the center of the awful power of God, yet protected by God himself! Oh, what a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the liv­ing God without hope, without a Savior! Better to have a millstone tied around my neck and be thrown into the depths of the sea than to offend against this God! What a wonderful privilege to know the favor of this God in the midst of his power!"

And so we get an idea of how we feel both hope and fear at the same time. Hope turns fear into a trembling and peaceful wonder; and fear takes everything trivial out of hope and makes it earnest and profound. The ter­rors of God make the pleasures of his people intense. The fireside fellow-ship is all the sweeter when the storm is howling outside the cottage.

Now why does God delight in those who experience him in this way—in people who fear him and hope in his love? Surely it is because our fear reflects the greatness of his power and our hope reflects the bounty of his grace. God delights in those responses which mirror his magnificence.

This is just what we would have expected from a God who is all-sufficient in himself and has no need of us—a God who will never give up the glory of being the fountain of all joy, who will never surrender the honor of being the source of all safety, who will never abdicate the throne of sovereign grace. God has pleasure in those who hope in his love because that hope highlights the freedom of his grace. When I cry out, "God is my only hope, my rock, my refuge!" I am turning from myself and calling all attention to the boundless resources of God.