
The edge of the shadow creeps higher.
From the corner of my vision, I see it. It grows, curving and menacing as it climbs, encompassing my field of vision. It expands before my widening eyes.
I slouch, making myself smaller. Only my huge eyes can be seen now, staring at it, watching it grow.
Pop! It is gone! I sit up in wonder, turning round to see what has happened. You have flipped the light switch to “on”.
But fear, and the memory of it broods just under the surface as we speak. I am never very far away from it.
As a lake is half full of water, I am half full of fear, wherever I go. We speak of other things, above the water level of my fear, but the heavy lake of fear sways within.
It is just under the surface. Can you feel it?
Why no?
You flick on a flashlight, and shine it at my feet. The water level recedes to just below your light. I am walking on water now because your light has forced the fear, the water level, to recede from where it was just under my waist, to where it is now, just under my feet.
Wow! Thank you! I shout! I sing and dance, splash my feet in the puddle, the memory of my fear. I take your hands and ask you to dance with me, to splash with me. The lake of fear has become a puddle of fear that I now traipse in.
I need you with me, everywhere I go. And that light thing – that flashlight – can you bring that everywhere too?
You tell me you can’t stay with me and I throw myself prostrate, clinging to your feet, begging you not to leave me. I am horizontal in the puddle now, and fear surrounds me again, even with you here. Please don’t leave me!
I have to leave, you say, gazing with love into my eyes.
You turn around once, twice and are transformed into an eagle. You spring from the ground, eyes lifted, and soar. You circle me from the air, high up, watching me with the piercing vision of that majestic bird.
I can see you sometimes, though you are long way off. Your example encourages me to sit up, to wipe the tears from my eyes, and wait – what is this in my hand? Oh, you left me your flashlight!
I stand up, splashing the puddle with my boots, and switch the flashlight to “on” again. I whirl it round me. No monsters here- only the faint shadow of their movement at the edge of this beam of light.
I sit down to eat awhile, to refresh my spirit. I am on dry ground now, for the warmth of the light from my flashlight has evaporated any water. What was it that you told me again?
“I look up to the mountains; does my strength come from mountains? No, my strength comes from God, who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.” The Message
I lift my gaze. Light from the arm holding my flashlight naturally lifts to follow my gaze. The light shines higher and I feel lighter, lighter.
No fear to hold me down.
I spin, once, twice and now I am free too, free to soar. I too have found my wings. I too am an eagle.
It was only fear that was holding me captive.
I left my flashlight on the ground for them.
I hope that they (you) find it soon.
Wow. This was beautiful. ☺ Your words flow so seamlessly. I love how you told it like a story and your allusion to Jesus—our Protector. It truly piqued my interest. It’s hard to find such wonderful posts as this. Thank you for sharing. 🤗
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Thank you Breanna!
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Beautiful ❤
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