FROM THE TIME my years on earth could be counted in single digits through college years, I enjoyed many carefree summer days and nights at my grandparents’ house in Roswell, GA, my home town. They lived at the end of a long road that abruptly halted near a cliff which was heavily wooded. I relished the daylight hours gazing far below at the beautiful Chattahoochee River. It was quiet up there. A man could think without distractions.
On that ridge, the breeze tossed the trees at will, but the birds and other creatures played with abandon in this majestic scene, just as many generations before. In the daytime there was much to spark an active imagination.
But at night the action slowed to an eerie still. To say the woods were ‘dark’ doesn’t begin to give that word justice. Standing near the edge of the forest, I could see nothing; but I heard creatures crunching through leaves and twigs breaking—though I couldn’t tell if they were near or far. And what kind of creatures were they? The daytime tunes became ghostly at night. I moved indoors.
One night a sudden thump outside my window awakened me—followed by total quiet and stillness. While I lay awake, startled, the leaves outside began swaying like in those old black and white horror movies. As shadows made random movements across the curtains, a storm moved closer, and flashes of lightning and faint rumbles of thunder actually brought some comfort until, again, in an instant, sudden stillness.
I became paralyzed with fear as I was sure something moved near the door in my room —blocking any hope of my exit! My vocal cords became as wet noodles. I slowly pulled the covers over my head, afraid to move, barely breathing, until morning’s light revealed it was my clothes hanging on the door knob, ready for the day. I felt so foolish. I was relieved. It wasn’t the bad thing I imagined. Only shadows and fear.
I don’t know anybody who is unfamiliar with the 23rd Psalm. Sometimes, familiarity isn’t our friend, though. As we drone through the verses, we can easily miss important messages waiting for us. They can hide in our darkness.
At one point, young David says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me [YOU] comfort me.” David doesn’t fear, because he has trained himself to realize that the Light is with him and for him; and anyway, it isn’t a valley of death. It’s death’s dark shadow hiding what was really there.
We are all afraid sometimes. But when it dawns upon us who is right next to us, our terror turns into confidence. We may be paralyzed right now looking at some apparition. It might seem like daybreak will never get here, and we languish; but the light will come. And with The Light, we will see it wasn’t that bad thing we feared after all.
© Copyright April, 2019 mypericopepe.com #fearnoevil, #christianwriting,
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