Fear

When my blue-eyed boy learned to walk at ten months old I nearly had a heart attack every day.  That precious boy got himself in some humdingers!  He has rarely sat still since.  I spent most of last summer waiting for him to return from adventures in the "forest" or a bike race around the neighborhood.

Those sweet memories make this year's reality bitter.  Two years ago John got bit in the back of the leg by an over-excited dog.  For two years fear has been leaching onto John, slowly dragging him into a pit of fear.  His fear is one I understand well.  I was terrified of dogs as a girl.  There was a man-eating St. Bernard I had to encounter each walk to the park.  There was a vicious lab who terrorized the park.  Somehow I didn't let the fear keep me from adventures, although I do remember at least once my beautiful sister had to fetch Mom to rescue me from the vicious lab who had surrounded me while I was up on the slide. 

Fear has fenced John in.  Our neighborhood is teeming with dogs, all friendly.  Sometimes the furry friends get out of their spaces and run as wild as the children.  So John remains within sprinting distance of the house.   His fear convincing him that at any moment the licky-monsters are going to turn into "vicious man-eating dogs!"  His fear has convinced him that all dogs are to be feared, even dogs he layed in the grass with last summer.

It has broken my heart.  So we bring it to God.  Every night we pray together asking God to heal him from his fear.  When he goes outside we talk about being courageous and that God is bigger than his fear. 

And we, my blue-eyed boy and I, wait for God to answer....