Yesterday, I told you about our dog Roxy and her unexplained, but very real fear of something in our backyard. And I shared with you my bear story and how one frightening thought implanted in my mind has continued to shape a fear so deeply inside of me that I refuse to visit relatives in bear-country Colorado unless it's hibernation season.
This is the nature of fear: Irrational. Rational. Logical. Illogical. Real. Imagined.
Brandon, my very young pastor who just recently preached and prayed down a man with a machete during the 9:30 service, believes that if we allow it, fear will stop us from fulfilling the assignment, the mission, the purpose, and the dream that God has put us on this planet for.
"For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7) As Christians, we quote this verse all day, but what good is it if we are facing down a bear or an invisible backyard thing or a crazed man ready to chop off our head? Recognize the source of the fear, Brandon says. Recognize the source.
Terrorism is evil. Murder is evil. Kidnapping is evil. Policy brutality is evil. Racism is evil. And behind all of this evil is something, right? I believe that the same source behind that which keeps us up at night, is the same source that makes us fearful. In my world, this source is known by many names, but recognized as a demonic force commonly known as "Satan". Not a little red man, in a little red suite, with a little red pitch fork (that would just be too easy to recognize), but a very real, very intelligent, manipulative, vicious and viable spiritual being.
You still here?
(I wonder why is it that more people believe in angels than they do in demons or the devil).
Fear is a form of worship and when we fear something, we are submitting ourselves to it and saying that we are powerless over it. Am I powerless over a giant, hungry bear? Probably... but maybe not.
There's a story of an old woman who lived alone. One evening when she got home from visiting friends she had the strangest feeling that someone was in her closet. As she walked by the closed door for a few times, she was unable to shake the feeling that, yes indeed, someone was in the closet.
The next morning the old woman's son called for his daily check in, and she told him what she thought. Alarmed, he said, "Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you call the police? What did you do?" The old woman replied, "I nailed the closet door shut and went to bed."
It's been said that courage is fear that has said its prayers.
Friends, this post is longer than I had planned and I still want to share a few more things, so I need to add another post. Please come back tomorrow for Fear-Pt. 3.
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(Day 3)
