As a mother, I have stared down the throat of fear like never before.
It comes and goes, but when it comes, it's intense.
During our pregnancy, plenty of reasons to fear surfaced. What if something is wrong? We can't see the baby in utero, so what if his or her heart stops? We might not know for days. Or so-called mother's intuition - how do I know if something is just a worry or if something is actually awry? We were excited for the baby's birth if for no other reason than that we could see the rise and fall of that little chest for ourselves!
New fears took their place with N's birth: does her breathing sound normal? Do I dare let her sleep next to me? Should I worry about SIDS or not? Am I changing her diaper often enough?
Some fears come around daily; others, I've managed to release with time; some, though, come flying out of what seems like nowhere, and those are the hardest to prepare for.
I had an encounter with one of the third kind recently, and it had to do with vaccines.
P and I have been doing our research. We've read about each disease, its likelihood of occurrence, and its complications. We weighed that against each vaccine, the ingredients of each, and their side effects. We took into account our life situation and the circumstances surrounding N's likely childhood. Then, we made our decisions. I thought I was at peace with it all.
But then came the night before her first appointment.
Fear filled me as I watched our bright-eyed little girl laugh, chatter, and squirm. What if she was one of those rare cases who comes down with a horrendous side effect? What if our active, happy baby girl was irreparably changed - forever - within a matter of a few hours?
Thankfully, I had the good sense to talk to P about it before bed that evening.
"Are we doing the right thing? Did we make the right decisions?"
He looked at me levely and simply said, "We made the right decisions."
His confidence jolted me out of my tizzy of worry and gave me the reassurance I needed to fall asleep.
That's when the whole thing got strange.
I dreamed that he and I were trying to pray together when he suddenly started saying, "I'm just so afraid," over and over. A Bible verse flashed through my mind: "God has not given us a spirit of fear..." (2 Timothy 1:7). I realized that the unexplained fear couldn't be coming from God, which meant it had dark origins. I am not one to witch hunt, nor am I very comfortable talking about the presence of demonic forces, but, in my dream, that was the only thing to which I could contribute this oppressive fear.
Still, I hesitated to say anything. That's when we both began to be paralyzed. We couldn't move our limbs, breathing became difficult, and speaking was nearly impossible. I knew then that I couldn't stay silent and began gasping Jesus' name.
The paralysis began to wane, so I stopped speaking, only to have it then return, so I started calling on Jesus again. This time it receded for good.
That's when I woke up, or thought I did. I was back in my own bed, P sleeping beside me, and I could hear N softly babbling like she will at times. The thought occurred, what if the demonic oppression was there because it was trying to get at N?
I woke P and asked him to check, make sure she was okay.
She wasn't in her cradle; she was laying between us in the bed. She was fine.
But how did she get there? P said he hadn't put her there. "I must have walked in my sleep," was my conclusion, and we went back to sleep.
The next morning, I realized that none of the second part had actually happened. I had dreamt all of it, which P confirmed when I told him about it.
At first, I only shook my head over the weird things a brain can do while a body is at rest. I probably ate something that disagreed with me, right? Trust me, I do not get into interpreting my dreams - at all. I believe God can and does use dreams to minister to people, but the dream's message is always confirmed through Scripture. Besides, I really didn't see God using them in that way in my life. I figured that I'm too skeptical for Him to want to use them to speak to me.
Whether this was a divine message or not, as I ruminated upon it, I took comfort in a couple aspects of the dream. Firstly, that I knew where to turn to do spiritual battle. Secondly, that whatever it was that was going on, none of us were harmed in either section of the dream. Finally, that N not only was fine, but also that she showed up between us, in a place of protection.
P prayed with me before he left for work, and I made the trip to the clinic with far less trepidation than I had felt earlier.
After N's appointment, we made it in time for my Wednesday morning Bible study. We're studying Hebrews right now, and I am loving it! I had prepared by going through the material for the week, but two verses nearly leapt off the page as we read the passage that morning: "Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery" (Hebrews 2:14-15).
Fear, specifically the fear of death, means slavery. We walked in that fear before salvation - were doomed to it for life.
But Jesus.
Jesus saw our frail composition and took it upon Himself.
He destroyed death's power by defeating its king.
When I made the decision to make Jesus my King, I left death's dominion. In the face of my impotence, however, I tend to totally forget God's omnipotence. In my weakness, I go back for visits into slavery to fear when I forget that He has all things under His control.
God's omnipotence means that all things work together into His plan (Romans 8:28).
All things.
Vaccines, diseases, life decisions.
Politics, elections, the fates of nations.
He isn't up there trying to figure out how to clean up our messes; He ordains every situation and every outcome, using them for the good of His Church and for His glory.
With a King like that, how can I fear?
