On Sunday morning, we had the most incredible praise and worship with the kids. We prayed for them – that they wouldn’t be afraid – of going to school – of what other people think. It was so awesome to see the kids respond in that way to what God wanted to do in our service.
I didn’t know the adults were at risk of feeling that fear too, but this week has just been nuts. Monday I was gone all day. I wasn’t home at all. I hated it. I had three different meetings, and a lot of wasted time – but I was okay. A little down, but okay.
That night, I went to sleep and had one of the worst dreams I’d ever had. Basically what it boiled down to was a very large man trying to hurt me and Sophia – and we were pretty much unable to stop him. He was huge and no one would help us – and it was a tiring, constant battle to keep him away.
Anyway, it was a scary dream. The kind you wake up from and thank God you were only dreaming. And I did just that. I looked at the clock. 6 a.m. Whenever I have those kinds of dreams, I always check on the kids. First Sophia, who is sprawled nicely on her bed and enjoying the last half hour of sleep before she had to wake up. Then, I move into Ethan’s room.
I open the door. There’s no one in there.
I don’t have my glasses on, but I’m certain he is not in his bed. 6 a.m. where could he be? I start to panic a little bit. He doesn’t go anywhere else. When he wakes up, he comes in our room and says "Mom, can I have some juice?" or "Mom, the sun is back." or something else in an extremely loud whisper. Our house was pitch black, where else would he be?
I went and woke Adam, just to be sure Ethan wasn’t in our bed. He wasn’t. I went back to Ethan’s room and looked everywhere. Nothing.
Then, I felt it. The fear. Like a gripping, suffocation, I felt it come upon me. My dream came rushing back to me. Someone trying to hurt my kids. I literally could not breathe.
I don’t know what you believe, but I believe in Good (God) and I believe in Bad (Satan). I believe both are spiritual forces at work in a mighty way – even in this day and age. I believe God hasn’t given us a spirit of fear… which means, it didn’t come from Him. Which means, it came from the other place. Which means, I was under attack. I’ve only had an anxiety attack one other time, and this was so much worse than that.
Isn’t it terrible how the battle can rage on, in your head? How your thoughts can convince you of things that are far from the truth?
I was scared. Hands-down SCARED.
I walked downstairs. And then I saw him. Sitting in the dark on the couch, sucking his pacifier and holding his stuffed monkey.
Me: Ethan! What are you doing?
Ethan: I’m sitting on the couch.
Me: You SCARED me!
Ethan: (exasperated and totally NOT getting it) YEAH…
Looking back on it, I do feel sort of silly I reacted that way, but instantly, I thought of Job. I thought of how people say that God allowed Job to suffer the way he did. But in that book, Job says "my worst fears have been realized." And so I have to wonder if maybe it was his fear that allowed those things in. Maybe when we are so afraid of something, we sort of make a pathway for it to happen to us? Maybe God was showing me what the fear felt like so I could pray like crazy for the protection of my kids and then turn it over to Him.
I can feel him, even now, prodding me to trust him. TRUST ME, he says. And I know I don’t fully do that. It’s easy with some things… but tough with others. But in this day, a day of natural disasters and school shootings, I have no choice BUT to trust Him. I am helpless to bring order to the world my kids will grow up in. I am unable to do anything but rest in Him, knowing that no matter what, he will never leave me or forsake me.
And you better believe I got rid of that gripping spirit of fear.
Fear doesn’t have any place. Not in my house. And especially not in my mind.
Sigh. Tomorrow I’m going to blog about television. I think something lighter is in order! 🙂
Have a good day!