Be Not Afraid

Well it is another Friday and time to grab a cup of coffee and a warm Krispy Kreme and write.  (I wish....I am sitting at my desk at work with an extremely bitter cup of coffee....waiting for the sound of the kids entering my classroom.)

Got five minutes? Let’s write. Let’s finger paint with words –>{click to tweet}.
Let’s just write and not worry if it’s just right or not. Here’s how to play along:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in {you can grab the button code on Lisa-Jo's blog footer}
3. Click here and Go leave some comment props for the five minute artist who linked up before you {and if you love us, consider turning off word verification for the day to make it easier for folks to say howdy}  It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week.  OK, are you ready? Give your best five minutes for the prompt:

Afraid

Go:

(My brother Dougie, my father Doug and me....in the second grade)

Isaiah 41:10 tells us "Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."  My dad taught me this verse during the Cuban Missle Crisis.  I was a child in second grade when this monumental event ocurred.  Our school did drills where we were taken to fallout shelters.  The West Palm Beach airport became a military base and closed to the public.  I lived a the end of one of the runways and instead of watching the jets take off I now watched the big C-9 cargo planes fly over my head as we played in the street.  Do you know how frightening they look to a small child?  My safe world was now a scary place.  Every night the news would talk about Communisim and show Russian soldiers marching....and every night for the duration of this threat I dreamed the Communist soldiers marched down my street, came to my house, and took my father with them and I never saw him again.  I would wake up screaming in my bed in the middle of the night and my father would come and hold me in his big strong arms and read Isaiah 41:10 from the Bible to me....over and over again until I went to sleep.  Many nights he did this more that once.  I was afraid.  I was afraid of war.  I was afraid of losing my father.  I was afraid of being taken away from my parents.  I was afraid of Communism.  Throughout my life I have experience being afraid on many levels....hurricanes, tornados, hang gliding, flying, my children getting sick, death,  9/11, you know the typical fears.....but somewhere in the back of my mind I could always hear my father reading Isaiah to me.  Today, at 58 years old whenever I feel that evil demon fear creeping into my heart I turn to Isaiah and read God's word telling me that is here....and he will strengthen me....and I find peace.  Do I still experience moments of being afraid....you betcha....I am human.....but I don't dwell upon them.  I try not to fear because I know....God, my heavenly Father is holding me....that scared little girl in his arms and keeping me safe. 

STOP: