Living Terrified

Darkness smothered all hope.  Tom and Sarah knew God had called them here and He would protect them.  For years, they have walked the streets giving food to the hungry and shelter to the homeless.  It was not unusual for a call to come.  

 

Tom was needed.  There was a report of ship coming to port.  Often times these ships carried slave traders.  Mostly young children, stolen or runaways, who would be sold in the underground market.  Most were never seen again.  They existed in a hell on earth.

 

Tom and Sarah used every penny they earned to rescue these children.  When the alarm came, Tom rushed to investigate.  Hours later another call comes to Sarah asking her to bring more money. 

 

Sarah normally would never take their 12-year-old Suzanne in the streets without a male escort but tonight there was no choice.  They both knew the dangers and how to maneuver the narrow passageways.  God was with them.

 

Making their way among the merchants and street urchins was never easy but this evening the masses of people shrunk the already narrow passageways to what seemed only inches of walkway.  The yanking and pulling fought against the mother and daughter’s linked arms. 

 

A quick run through the alleyway to the right would bring them where they could find Tom.  Grasping Suzanne with all her strength they plunged ahead weaving through the graveyard of stored shipping crates. 

 

Neither spoke, their heartbeats communicated their fearful determination.  Just as they turned the final corner to see the light from the port, Suzanne was gone.

 

There wasn’t a cry.  There wasn’t a tug.  She just wasn’t there.  Sarah held her arm one second and the next she held only air. 

 

No one was in sight.  No movement in any direction. Nothing except the mountains of crates looming on both sides.

 

“Suzanne!  Suzanne!  Answer me.  Where are you?”  Panic nearly strangled the words from her lips.  Sarah began to pound on boxes, over turn baskets, and rip at barrels. 

 

There had to be a trap door.  People don’t just vanish.  “Oh my God, children vanish here.  This is how they do it.  They steal them right from their mother’s arms.”

 

“Oh God No!  NOOOOOOOO.  Suzanne!  Su-zannnnne!”

 

 Fingers dripping blood from the splintered crates and barrels, Sarah thought of her only hope. 

 

“Help, I need help.”  Her fingers trembled as she tried to pound out 911.  The three numbers were elusive.  Sarah crazed with fear, could only scream.

Here is where I woke up.  Yes, another vivid nightmare.  I dream terrified because I live terrified.  I never realized it before now.  This week and this dream, served as another warning.  I need to defeat the darkness of my mind.

I woke early Monday morning feeling fine.  I put the final touches on my morning Bible lesson.  An hour later, I started to get dressed, that’s when it hit.  At the time I had no idea it was an inner ear issue that caused severe motion sickness.

No, for the next few hours, I was just terrified.  I couldn’t stand, walk, or even move my head in the slightest degree for the room spun at terrifying speeds.  Nauseous waves tormented my already cold and clammy body. I truly thought I would die.  I cried out in prayer but nothing happened.  I panicked.  I called my 911, Mike.

I’m writing this in the wee hours of Thursday night, as I lay awake in prayer.  I held and prayed for little Eli the first hours of the night.  I begged the Lord to clear Eli’s lungs and heal the rattling congestion.  I fought the panic viewed illusions of him catching whopping cough and pneumonia from his daddy.  Fear kept me begging.

Why do I live so terrified?

Because I don’t Believe God.  He made it clear to me in the darkness of the night.  He spent hours reminding me of His Word. The centurion believed Jesus’ words and without any proof of the healing, left His presence and started home to find his son healed.

A poisonous snake bit Paul and everyone watching knew at that moment he was sure to die.  Paul simply shook off the snake and showed everyone watching that no illness will stop a saint from doing the will of God.

What good am I to the Lord if my only response to a crisis is to lose all my senses in fear, screaming “Oh God, NO!” and dialing 911?

There’s coming a day when those we think are called to protect us then become the harshest enemies to all Christians.

I don’t want to be a wimp for Jesus.  I want to believe He is who He says He is and He will do what He says He will do.  I want to live strong!  I want to dream different.

Sarah and Suzanne take the passageway through the storage graveyard.  Neither spoke, their heartbeats communicated their fearful determination.  Just as they turned the final corner to see the light from the port, Suzanne was gone.

 

There wasn’t a cry.  There wasn’t a tug.  She just wasn’t there.  Sarah held her arm one second and the next she held only air. 

 

No one was in sight.  No movement in any direction. Nothing except the mountains of crates looming on both sides.

 

Sarah knew instantly, her daughter was in the clutches of their worse enemies.  Child sex traders were merciless.  She started to scream, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!”

 

Louder and more confident with each breath.  “Jesus I know You are here.  Shine Your light in this darkness.  Show me Your glory!”

 

“Jesus, Jesus, Je-susssss!”  The ground trembles and shakes as the Light splits the darkness. 

 

Sarah shouts louder, “Jesus

 

Crates began to burst open.  And as quickly as she disappeared, Suzanne emerges from the darkness running into her mother’s outstretched arms.

 

“Praise You Jesus!  Come, child, we have other children to save.”

 

Yes, Lord I want to believe You for that kind of life.

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